Fall: The Season of Letting Go

I watch the leaf as it floats to the ground
I watch it spin, watch it twirl; it dances around
It lands in a puddle surrounded by stones
The breeze pushes it forward, away from its home
It floats on reflections, floats on the sky
It's gone from its branches, never questioning why
It doesn't fight its descent from its long-term abode
Because fall is the season when we must let go.

If only, like leaves, we wouldn't fight change
If only things in our lives remained the same
If we could fall with grace from comfortable places
Trusting our hearts, not sad looks on our faces.

The leaf moved on quickly after it fell
The wind guided it to a place where, I could tell,
Many leaves had fallen to that very place
And they've grown to a pile of red shapes displaced
Surrounding their puddle, watching journeys end
No asking, no telling, no real or pretend

I feel like fall is the season that we can let go
And the leaves must feel that it is, also
They escape from the normal with ease and with grace
Moving on forward; not slow, not a race.

The leaf's life is ending but a beginning begins
Falling from trees; carried far by the wind
I feel like fall is the season to let go
Like the leaf, we musn't question; just know that we know.



It's not my favorite poem ever, but its basically just a jumble of my thoughts from today.

Those Bathroom Stalls

You can learn a lot by going to the bathroom in a public school.

Just sit there and look at the stall walls, and you can learn a variety of other quite useful information. This person doesn’t love that person, some one doesn’t like their life or their English teacher. You know; the usual.

Sometimes, an inspired person might put up something remotely cheerful; if it’s a full moon, maybe even something joyful.
Those poor, deranged, psychotic fools who get insulted for quoting Shakespeare or gushing about a new relationship rather than saying f this, or f that.

I was sitting in one of these bathroom stalls, catching up on the latest news and gossip (TMI, perhaps?). There was one conversation that caught my eye (again, TMI?)

Person A: I need clarity.
Person B: Clarity? I need sanity.


I think when we enter the doors to high school, we all become insane in our own little way. Maybe it’s the constant stress of getting good grades and balancing homework and having a social life. Or it could be the way your locker never opens until you kick it five times on the left side, jiggle the handle, spin the lock around twice for good luck and pull with all your might that puts you over the edge. It could be that new crush you have or the way you can never find the gym or the fact that your cell phone is lost for all eternity behind the third floor radiator that just drives you out of your mind. Whatever the reason, no high schooler can possibly be sane.

Heck, we’re not asking for much. Just a little sanity day to day.

Definition

I thought by finding myself, I’d find words to describe myself. I didn’t think that directly, but it’s basically what I was searching for.

Am I a writer? Singer? Am I compassionate? Am I this word; am I that word? Is that word me?

Silly me. Over time, I’m learning words don’t define you. They can’t. Yes, some words might go along with who you are; your profession, your hair color, your hobbies. But that’s not who, or what, you are.

You can’t really say who you are; it’s something you feel. Something you know. You have to know for yourself. Other people can interpret it however they choose.

Ultimately, no label is you. (Is this the stuff they’ve been trying to tell us for years?)

Society, I believe, defines us from a young age. Geek, prep, emo, goth, popular, gay, straight, smart. But is that who we are? I don’t think so.

I searched through endless quizzes, horoscope readings, and “define me” applications online. They’d give me a vague definition of who I am, that, while providing momentary satisfaction, held no truth and left me feeling more confused. Quizzes tell me I’m trustworthy or that I should live in Chicago or that the color blue represents my mood. Horoscopes tell me to be careful of how I spend my money and to lessen the pressure I put on myself.

But that’s not me. Where do I fit in with the great collage that is humanity and existence?

For the record, I do enjoy making collages. And I'd say just doing something I love is a pretty good start to figuring out who I am.

Lemonheads

I was writing a song and intended to call it “Bittersweet”. I don’t usually name songs before they’re finished, but I knew what this one was going to be about. I had the first few lines, but I couldn’t figure out what to write after them.

There were words that I knew would make sense in the song, but the lines weren’t all the same length. The beat just wasn’t working. I was left with a page full of seemingly random lines about confusion and decisions and life being bittersweet.

It's kind of this crazy bittersweet thing I've got going on

Can't go right, but hell, I can't go wrong

I sent all the lines and pieces I had so far to a friend of mine. After reading what I had so far, he said: “It sounds good, but why don’t you add more taste things, so it sounds like you’re describing life along with a sour candy?” My first reaction was to be a smart-aleck grammarian and ask him if he meant “adjectives” instead of taste “things”. But perplexity consumed me instead. .

My life, a sour candy? I didn’t know where he could have come up with it. The song was about sourness, I supposed, but candy?

I thought about it. After a few moments’ contemplation, I realized he was right. Not only did my song need more “taste orienting adjectives”, so did my life story.

I told him my life was like a certain sour candy: a Lemonhead. And it fits perfectly. My life is like a bag of Lemonheads.

When you first reach into the bag of Lemonheads and put one in your mouth, it’s sour. It's disgusting. You want to take it out. Why would you want to keep something so bitter in your mouth? You could choose to spit it out, but perhaps out of pure curiosity, you keep it in there for a while.

It’s really not good for a while. But if you just keep it in your mouth, eventually the sour part dissolves and you get to the sweet part. And the sweet part may not be as big as the sour part, but it’s really good. In fact, it’s delicious.

This great tasting, sugary sweetness? It makes the whole sour part worth it.

So you reach into the bag again, and you pull out another little yellow candy, and you put it in your mouth and wait for the sweet part. You may grimace through the sourness. You might want to spit it out again. You may wish the whole thing was sweet.

But when you get to the center, you realize you’d never enjoy it so much if you didn’t go through to have the sour part first.