The fall season always seems to roll in through the back door. The wind sneaks back and forth between the cracks, until it finally outsmarts the sun. It's a halting thing, this transition into constant chills and comforting teas.

Like all change, entering the fall is laced with both the anxious and the sweet. It pries warmed bones from complacent afternoons, and ushers in a world of sensation — mums, and memories wafting on breezes — at once familiar and completely new. The crisp air seems to fill our lungs with awareness of all that came before and what is yet to be. Assembling the layers of the past, we step forward into the present. As nature folds in anticipation of winter, the fall can symbolize inwardness and introspection.

In creative terms, the "fall" inward is a time for reflection, a space to process — a sort of refuge that ultimately leads to renewed creative motion. The fall season of the creative cycle guides us to rest, take stock, evaluate, and appreciate. It offers us permission to perfect, in repetition, what is yet to be mastered. When our intuition signals us, we stretch forward, once again, to test, learn, and keep building outwardly. From a place of contraction and repetition, we emerge, into expansion, again.

One message about the "fall" aspect of creating that I have discovered is that its anxious thresholds are not only normal, but essential. We waft inward, flow outward, back in, and back out. If we are accepting each stage, each movement in the present for what is — rather than resisting it for what isn't — we will enjoy more peace during the highs and the lows.

---

Next: Creating and Fear

---

©2008 Barbara Bowen. All rights reserved.

---