THE DESCENT INTO AUTUMN

There is a unique opportunity that is present in autumn, when the leaves fall and carpet the earth with their colors and the nights grow cold and long. It's a rite of passage that involves letting go of summer, and preparing for the deep dreams of winter.

It's a natural time for us to follow the example of nature and begin our own process of letting go ourselves. For our children or students, they can feel the pull as well.

Letting go can be a painful process when we might have delayed taking action, like deepening our relationships, ending an unsatisfying job or letting go of a social circle that doesn't let us grow. Any change can be challenging, because it means letting go of the 'known', and embracing the 'unknown', and even small things can cause anxiety and stress.

A rite of passage ritual that I have found to be helpful is to gather leaves of different colors, and place them in a basket. I think about the changes I am going through as I gather, and as the night falls, I build a small fire with twigs and sticks and sit close. I place each leaf into the flames and think about a specific change or issue I am changing or 'releasing'. It's not something I rush, because it's good to let those feelings or thoughts have their moment.

As the fire dies down and the embers glow in the dark, I think about how the leaves of each tree are released as they begin to draw their sap and nutrients down into the earth. I think about how these trees let go of the growing season, and enter the season of sleep and deep dreams. In the darkness, those trees dream of the return of the sun, and I dream of taking a step through and into a newer version of my life.

I shared this once with some of my students on a rainy fall day when we were exploring in the forest. I was worried at first, because I thought 'They're only ten years old! What on earth are they letting go of? Their baby teeth?' but as we began, I realized that they had very meaningful things to share that spanned the spectrum of their young lives. Some were missing their grandparents, and others had lost a pet recently (hamster!) or they were missing their teacher from their previous school year.

Their faces were earnest as they dropped their leaves into our small fire, and they watched it burn to ash each time. The entire group was respectful and serious, and they were silent as each child spoke their piece.

Afterwards, we munched on heirloom orchard apples and kicked leaves in the gloomy trail, but our spirits were high and we laughed, like a burden was lifted from our hearts.

They never mentioned anything about it in the following days, but it was something that seemed meaningful and I hope that it might inspire others by sharing this here.

I'd add that the older we are, the more things we have to unburden ourselves, like deep regrets, painful memories, our traumas and choices. It can be powerful with anyone, but be prepared to hear things that are unexpected. Holding a positive space in the face of real emotional release can be difficult, and especially if you are not prepared to support our students.

Some versions of this activity use colored paper and pens to write down the 'released' feeling or part of our lives, and then burying them in the earth as an alternative to the fire. I like the warmth and light of the fire, personally, and sitting around it is very comforting and familiar. Seeing that leaf burn is a little cathartic, too, because the fire is so 'final', I think.

I've heard of placing these 'releases' into the branches of a tree, too. You might find other ideas as well.

The forest offers us spaces that support our lives. It's a gift that is personal and transformative if we explore with an open mind.

It's amazing how good it feels to let go. I feel like a quaking aspen leaf, or maybe a sugar maple! It's a long drop from the branch, but it's a soft landing on the loamy soil. It's okay to change perspective and try new things. The season's beauty helps too.