I read a Facebook status today that paraphrased the old analogy of pumpkins and salvation - that God scoops out our yucky insides, carves a grin on our faces and pops his own light inside us to shine to the rest of the world.
It's kind of a nice metaphor in a creepy way. Most jack-o-lantern grins are ghastly. Much like our mortal coils, it doesn't take long for even the hardiest of gourds to run afoul and decay. Then there's the whole hollow aspect that I guess the writer of said analogy didn't want to spend too much time on.
Regardless of your religious bent, fall makes me feel a lot like a jack-o-lantern. The crisp air comes along and cleans out the rotted guts from the rest of the year. I know there's not much year left to live, but what's left I'll live with a flickering light and a toothy grin.
Does this metaphor make me more gutless in the fall? More heartless?
I don't think so. It's something to be filled with candlelight and to smell earthy and warm.
I was talking with a friend the other night. He said something like, "There's not much left to this year. And it's been a shitty year anyway. Once Thanksgiving hits, it's all downhill. People check out. It's over."
I tried to express how even on New Year's Eve I find myself desperately grasping at the last grains of sand in the hourglass - determined to make something of a year that's spent even as a bright, shiny new one approaches. Ever straddling the past while welcoming the present and a still-dim future with confetti and New Year kisses to friends and family.
Fall is the beginning of that process of letting go of this year. It's been a year of change for me - more gradual than I'd like, but change just the same. Soon my rotted, carved-out pumpkin corpse will lie foul on the ground, my smile gaping and distorted, waiting for the thaw of spring to sprout anew (provided God left a few secret seeds inside). :)
I'm glad that my embrace of running has aligned with the changing season. It's such a pleasant pace to see the world. I ran seven miles on Sunday night and in my last mile or two I found myself in such an adrenaline-induced state of euphoria that I began laughing out loud. A freak storm blew up around me. A picture-perfect storm. Leaves fell more rapidly than the rain. The water of the placid pond was prodded into tiny white peaks by the whipping wind. Gray clouds quickly sped past overhead, muting colors and somehow throwing them into sharper relief.
The leaves were yellow. The grass still green. The pavement gray. My skin was flushed. The raindrops were cold, fading away on my warm skin - my face lit with a toothy grin.
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