I wrote a little thing yesterday, and then as often happens, the subject I wrote about continued to pop up throughout the rest of the day. Call it serendipity or some weird version of confirmation bias, but it happens often.
The topic was the seasons, or more accurately, how four seasons don’t seem like enough, and how living within a rhythm of smaller seasons might make more sense.
It wasn’t long after that I came across a little quote from Brittin Oakman, a poet of sorts on Instagram that I’d never heard of before:
Every season is one of becoming, but not always one of blooming. Be gracious with your ever-evolving self.
That got me thinking about the seasons in terms of slowness, of patience. Of not always having to be racing towards something and just letting life happen, like a flower blooming in the spring or, consequently, dying in the autumn.
Because even dying is a form of becoming.
According to the sekki, we’re in the midst of “Soko,” wherein we experience the first frosts and maple leaves turn yellow. The next small season will commence on November 8th with “Ritto,” which is the start of winter and marked by the ground beginning to freeze.
What a perfect time for slowness, for patience, for allowing life to progress at its own pace for once.