My heart is drumming in my chest so hard it aches, but it's the good kind of ache, like the feeling you get on the first real day of autumn, when the air is crisp and the leaves are all flaring at the edges and the wind smells just vaguely of smoke - like the end and the beginning of something all at once. -Lauren Oliver, Delirium
We're now in the season of good kinds of aches, I think. Aches that remind us of home... of belonging... of people we've been assigned to and people we've chosen.
These days are such a blessing, these crisp days that smell of smoke and decay. Don't you think? I look at autumn as the outer envelope of an invitation imploring me to come and participate in rest... and comfort... and (maybe a bit of) indulgence. I realize it's not that way for everyone, but for me, it is. Autumn says slow down, and curl up, and suspend your usual life while the world celebrates seasons and happenings that are bigger than we are. It's my favorite time of year, to borrow that bland phrase.
I'm watching leaves drift and fall today from the wide rocker on the creaky porch. It's cool, and raining. Another good ache.
Hope today finds you well, and all your aches the kinds of ones that, although not necessarily pleasant, beat inside your chest as rhythmic reminders, saying: I'm living... I'm alive. I'm living... I'm alive....
Here's to the good ache of autumn and us being together yet another Monday. -Brin