Seasons. . .
There is something quietly honest about the changing of seasons.
The trees do not argue with autumn. They do not cling to their leaves and insist that summer continue. They respond to changing light, cooler air, and shorter days by doing what nature has always done: they let go.
There is a Buddhist lesson here.
Much of our suffering comes not simply from change, but from our resistance to it. We become attached to the season of life we know. A relationship, a routine, a role, an identity, a body, a belief, or even an idea of how life was supposed to unfold. When circumstances begin to shift, our instinct is often to hold tighter.
Buddhist practice invites us to notice something deeper: everything is already changing.
This is anicca, impermanence. It is not a gloomy teaching. It is an invitation to see life clearly. The beautiful moments cannot remain forever, but neither can the difficult ones. Joy changes. Sorrow changes. Bodies change. Relationships change. We change.
The seasons make this truth visible.
Autumn, in particular, reminds us that letting go does not have to mean losing ourselves. A tree releasing its leaves is not becoming less of a tree. It is responding wisely to the conditions of the moment.
Perhaps we can do the same.
As the season changes, consider what you have been carrying simply because you have grown accustomed to carrying it. An old resentment. An expectation. A regret. A habit. A story about yourself that no longer reflects who you are becoming.
You do not have to force it away. Buddhist practice is rarely about forcing anything. Simply become aware of it. Sit with it. Understand it. And when the time is right, loosen your grip.
There is also another lesson hidden within autumn: letting go creates space.
The bare branches of winter may appear empty, yet within that apparent emptiness the next season is already being prepared. What looks like an ending is also part of becoming.
Our lives move this way too.
There are seasons for building and seasons for resting. Seasons for speaking and seasons for listening. Seasons for holding close and seasons for releasing. Wisdom is not demanding that every season feel like summer. Wisdom is learning how to be fully present for the season we are actually living.
So as the air cools and the leaves begin their colorful descent, perhaps our practice can become very simple:
Notice what is changing.
Appreciate what is here.
Release what has completed its season.
And trust that life does not need to remain the same to remain beautiful.
Sometimes the most mindful thing we can do is stop asking life to stay as it was and gently meet it as it is.
Peace and Love, Jim
#seasons #thedailybuddha #tdb
