September Start

Welcome, September. I’m expecting good and gentle things from you. Over the course of a long and solitary drive yesterday, I came to understand I hunger for something big in this season. I saw that I’m coming dangerously close to empty in some areas and I need to practice soul care.

Today is Labour Day, and I will work on a precious few things: tidying my office, organizing thoughts, and writing in my notebook. I will make a list and get back on track. I will consider an opportunity. I will think about my balcony.

We will go to the garden to harvest for a light feast. I will water the plants that remain and feel kind of done with it all. I will think of the time I spent in my daughter’s garden a couple of days ago, how she knows every flower on every plant and tends them individually and collectively.

Every part of me is tired, so I will honour the wisdom of weariness by taking time to rest. Maybe I’ll sit on the deck with a book for a time while I still can.

And maybe that’s enough or maybe it’s more than I’ll be capable of today. Maybe the better work is just looking in the mirror and reminding the weary face that looks back at me of the truth. Beloved. A little bit broken, and weary and aching, but oh so beloved. Maybe that’s all that’s needed. Or at least it’s a start.

Welcome, September, month of endings, beginnings, and change. I need something different from you this year.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
1 comment
  1. Beautifully stated, Linda. I need something different from September this year too.

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