what is it about fall - this fall - that is so deeply, wholly and fully satisfying?

I drove to work today {I usually take the bus to the Very Large Hospital} and when it was time to leave, it was dark {of course} -- sidewalks lit by dim streetlight.  And foggy.  Lightly raining.  The most perfect deciduous tree leaves falling at regularly timed intervals.

For the first time in  a long, long time, I dawdled on my way to the car.  Stopped on the sky bridge to overlook the campus and breathed the cold air in deeply.  Experienced a tidal wave of contentment.  Of peace. 

For the first time in years, I feel completely and totally at rest.  There is no other way to put it.  I'm sitting in my  very, very small studio apartment and am getting ready to start {more} {never-ending} homework.  I'm completely graduate student poor.  Busy out of my mind, most days.

But centered in a way that has eluded me for years.  Whatever is at the core of me is being fed daily.  I still don't really know what's at the core of me. Not really.  But right now?  Whatever it is, it's strong.

On Sunday I went to a children's musical with my sister, Lizz.  We didn't truly know that it was a children's musical, put on by children, for children.  But it didn't really matter.  As I was sitting there, quietly, watching this rather well performed, decently funded production, I fought tears several times.   Because, I'm a dork.  And also, because I was sitting in an utterly charming, historic theater, watching the mystical play of children on a perfect, absolutely perfect, fall day. 

So completely at peace.

I've done a perfectly inadequate job explaining any of this.  But this contentment, this quiet peace, this resting at your core ... If I could give this away, I would. 

It feels terribly selfish to keep it to myself.


  1. Aminta on November 15, 2010 at 1:37 PM

    All right Peaceful lady..... looking for ya!

  2. Lisa on November 16, 2010 at 11:38 AM

    Peace to you, Aminta. :) (It's also helpful to keep in mind I'm unmarried with no children, which may actually contribute quite mightily to a sense of quiet. ;))

  3. Willow on November 17, 2010 at 8:11 AM

    When I have those moments, I stop, breathe and say THANK YOU...and "REMEMBER THIS MOMENT" so that I can call it up and breathe it again later when it seems to have eluded me.


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