I love fall. Who doesn't right? The colors, the Pumpkin Spice lattes, the boots, the sweaters, the comfort food. They are all welcomed changes. But yet, I always get a little bummed. No more flip flops, no more day-long sunshine, no more leisurely trips to the lake. Bummer.
I wish I could say I loved change. Wouldn't that be lovely? To just roll along with the ups and downs with a smile on my face.
The only thing that's constant in life is change.
Ugh, it's so true and annoying!
Truth is, I could stomach change if it didn't come with an "end." My marriage meant the end of Zache. My due date meant the end of being pregnant. My baby meant the end of limitless freedom that I didn't even understood I had. My job acceptance meant the end of my maternity leave/unemployment.
I think that's why I'm drawn to multiple book sersis (Hunger Games? Anyone?) - the end is met with the anticipation of another wonderful beginning.
I know, I know. My marriage means I jump from Z to A(tkinson). The end of my pregnancy meant actually having Ingrid. Ingrid now means everything (not in that annoying "I'm a mom now" way but in a "my heart is stretched and I can't believe anything can be so beautiful" way). My job means learning a new industry - in a good way.
This weekend I'll be packing up my summer clothes and happily bust out my sweaters, scarves and boots - while reminding myself to enjoy - and be in - the present moment rather than focusing on how lovey/awful the past was/how fun/scary the future will be.