Let it all fall into place

Fallen into fall, after all, or something! The turning, vibrant, dropping leaves on my recent East Coast visit had me feeling more of an air of surrender, and thinking about the grandness of allowing. Of how by allowing things to be, to fall as they may, things fall into place. That releasing my grip of control—and control comes from fear—allows things to be as they’re meant to be. And what results has repeatedly shown me, and continues to show me, is better than I ever could have imagined, anything that I could have controlled into creation.

Let go, and let it all fall into place. The trees know. And they look so beautiful doing it, too.

Let it all fall away

I’ve realized recently that I don’t care about a lot of things. Like things I know don’t matter, but I was still giving thought, energy and attention to. (All of which would be much better invested elsewhere, or even nowhere, in nothing). Things like ruminating on whether xyz was the right choice when I know it makes no difference now because we’re in the now. Or things that don’t really matter much because they actually don’t align with my values or interests or what I want I want to be part of or have be part of me.

I was on the East Coast recently and the leaves were “peaking;” a beautiful decay and array of falling colors, and that felt like a symbolic little invitation to just let things fall that I don’t need, that I don’t care about much, after all. Let them fall away and be absorbed into the earth and make way for new growth. And letting them go may make me feel bare for a little bit, but that’s the only way to make space for what’s coming next. And it’s kind of nice to just be out there in this new way, anyway, feeling it all, open, ready for whatever.