Nature is the mirror of the divine. She is its visible reflection.
In it, cycles are revealed, temporal expressions of eternity. We are a part of nature, therefore its eternal cycles must reflect in us, transform us and initiate us throughout our lives: the 4 seasons then become the 4 ages of the cycle of consciousness. Creative birth, growth, blossoming, decline, death… and rebirth.
Each season has its tone, its teaching that is both universal and intimate. The older we get, the more we can feel these cycles resonating within us, and serve as our own inner mirror. The being caresses its psychic and spiritual depths by contemplating nature.
Autumn is a season that is both feared and awaited: dreaded by hedonists of sun and heat who see it as the end of summer. But awaited by romantics and nostalgics, because it touches their aspirations for interiorization and spleen.
Of the green and triumphant homogeneity of the beautiful season; the plants die and the trees strip into a patchwork of colors. From full uniform health, decline reveals a diversity of appearances and reflections. From the summer summit of beings, most often revealing only conformity and similarity, the contrasts between beings can unfold during decline and initiatory death.
Some trees shed their leaves, others keep them unchanged. Some beings slow down, internalize and allow themselves to be touched by the renunciation of summer and a part of themselves. Others keep their relationship with the world and themselves intact, as if the season had not changed.
Because autumn is a symbolic death; after the dormancy of the seeds during the winter and the bareness of the trees, life will resume when nature awakens in spring. It is also a putrefaction of the leaves, which will slowly metamorphose into humus; because our darkest and lowest aspects can bring out the most beautiful new lives, but on condition that they are given to the earth.
It is therefore an initiatory death, because it is temporary and partial, but also so necessary and glorious. Because the parts of ourselves that we abandon can serve as breeding ground for our rebirth. Our renewal requires a prior slowing down, detachment, renunciation.
The power of our spring will come from the strength and wholeness of our inner autumn. What is dying in us will be reborn transfigured later. Everything is at stake during this period of autumn.
This is one of the lessons of this season.