Through life, I have always imagined each day, perhaps too programmed in our Western way, as if a square of space on a calendar page.
Each square passes by as I lay my head down each night. Always anticipating the next day’s square, with anxiety, thinking about events to attend and things to do … I would drift off to sleep. I have finally been able to reprogram my internal representation of time, now tapping into the natural rhythms of the seasons.
The soldiers of time are no longer marching in my mind each night. After 45 Octobers, I now feel a part of the flow, accepting the buzz and busyness of certain seasons while cherishing the lulls when they arrive. Time has become a long continuum for me, connecting fluidly to the past and reaching into the future.
October is now the mile marker that I anticipate for myriad reasons, all of which orbit around the sense of slowing down and relinquishing all notions of busy. The natural world is also slowing down and preparing for winter’s slumber. I find comfort in the “quiet” busy and subtle easiness of October and her “strange ancestral light”. As Kerouac writes, there is a sadness as the year winds down, but to me this is a period of quiet reflection. As I look back, there is no sadness in my mind.
Oh, what a year fleurdetroit has had so far! With gracious appreciation to all of you, we continue to grow as a company. Our creative teams, in each department, have been wrapped up in so many wondrous projects. As I personally look forward to the slowing down of autumn, we are once again ramping up for the upcoming holiday season. I promise, we have the most splendid things to come!
Until then, tap into the natural flow of autumn and be sure to take care of yourself. Now is the time to unplug for a spell before the holiday season takes over. Make time to feel the autumn breeze on your face and take in the sweet smell of leaves, as they release themselves from the canopies so high. “Akh! I tell you it is October… “
I Tell You It Is October! (Excerpt)
by Jack Kerouac
There’s something olden and golden and lost
In the strange ancestral light,
There’s something tender and loving and sad
In October’s copper might.
End of something, old, old, old…
Always missing, sad, sad, sad…
Saying something…love, love, love…
Akh! I tell you it is October,
And I defy you now and always
To deny there is not love
Staring foolishly at skies
Whose beauty but God defies.
For in October’s ancient glow
A little after dusk
Love strides through the meadow
Dropping her burnished husk…