I realised something the other day. The signs are all around me that Autumn is well and truly here – leaves getting blown off the trees, harvests slowing down, shorter days and colder nights – all are what I expect when I think of Autumn.

I also know that the temperature will continue to fall and daylight will be increasingly scarce as we progress into Winter. I expect to see Christmas lights, the market in town, our cosiest clothes and more time for books and hot chocolates.

Gradually I will let the seasons take me with them as they flow into the hope of Spring. The first buds making an appearance, bulbs pushing through the soil. I’ll feel the excitement nature shares with those of us who take the time to listen and I’ll accept it.

And to complete the circle, warmer days of Summer are welcomed and the daylight which means long walks after dinner. A feeling of plenty and happy to go with it.

All of these things come and go, every year, without question and are just accepted.

That’s what made me ask myself a question: Why do I find it so easy to accept the normal, natural changes in these seasons but struggle with the natural change in the seasons of my life?

I hated my teens, was an idiot in my 20s, didn’t have a clue in my 30s, felt lost in my 40s and now in my 50s? Well I’ve made no secret of the fact I am really struggling with the physical changes this decade brings!

I wondered, if I was living in a log cabin, out in the wilderness somewhere with no contact with the outside world, would I just accept these changes as a natural flow into a new season of life without question? Would I just accept what was happening with each decade and just go with it until the next change?

I wonder.

I suppose I’ll never know but I feel an internal struggle, as if I am trying to fight the tide instead of letting it flow in the direction it needs to.

It’s been on my mind a lot the last few days, probably coinciding with a confidence of crisis which I thought I’d left behind in a previous season, so I thought I’d bring it here. Maybe one day I’ll look back at this post and laugh. Maybe I’ll read it in my 60s, nodding my head and saying “yep and you’re still fighting it!”.

Who knows? What I do know is I am grateful for each season, no matter how hard or strange it has felt at the time. Not everyone gets as many as I have had so far and that is a lesson I don’t forget.