It’s been several challenging weeks away from technology with the exception of a few emails. Spending time away from social media has allowed me to find the simplicity in life. I'm not quite back as I cringe surfing my computer.  I have witnessed changes in me and worked on strengthening my beliefs.  I have enjoyed the entering of fall. I love the way the cool autumn breeze has touched me lately.  I leave the windows opened just enough to feel their tenacious mischief in the night, tickling parts of my hair and skin.  I love how every morning there is more color and leaves on the ground crackling with movement and ending the cycle of another season.  There is a season to everything and watching the leaves fall becoming mulch defines the ending of this season of exhaustion.  Somewhere in the midst of these months I lost myself inside of me.  It’s as if a seed was planted with hope for growth but nothing sprouted.  I have been stuck in the dirt.  And, now as I observe the window of the world I see that I stopped watering the seed.  It’s been me…no one else to blame.  In moments like this I am quickly reminded of life and its precious commodities.  Life is fragile.Yesterday our 19 month old kitty cat, my mate’s best buddy that he raised from birth, died on the road in front of our place.  I have engraved an image of a gentle giant digging up a hole in our woods to bury his sweet friend.  I will forever remember the way he caressed him as he placed him in the dirt and then scattered the soil over him under a beautiful tree. I will hold in my memory the way he walked away, head down, holding in an inexplicable pain for this event.  It is said that grief is that last act of love we provide those we have loved.  The deeper the grief the more we have given of ourselves.  I don’t know if this is what’s been coming up for over a month and now with this loss it has magnified itself into an unseen force.  Perhaps this is the sadness that engulfs me in the middle of the night choking the core of me.  I don’t know.  But, something has been missing, a vastness of space and time I cannot recapture.  It could be middle age regrets for not having done more, cared deeper, forgiven quicker or released instantly.  Letting go is a lesson I’ve acquired throughout the years.  It hasn’t always been this way.  I don’t want to dwell on the sadness.  I want to let the choking come and go, honoring its presence and awareness with love.  Grieving in silence is part of our humanity.  We don’t have to do it but sometimes we must travel those places alone.  It’s okay.  It’s always okay because it is our picking.  In letting those moments come and go I realize that I get to choose the suffering entering and leaving.  It doesn’t choose me.  And, that alone is enough to accept the grieving process for yesterday and bring joy for today.   In gratitude lives the truth of who we are. Sometimes we have to dig deeply and restart with another seed to sprout and grow.   Other times we have to dig and bury the things we love with all our hearts.Now with the loss of a pet and friend I sit feeling the numbness of it all.  We have gone through this before.  It is always deafening in the depth of unspoken words.  My heart goes out to Matt.  My heart goes out to my daughter who found him as she was heading to work.  My heart is stretched and properly signaling the change in our home.  Things are shifting, changing and pushing lately in a way that seems to forget about time.  I am consciously staying present.  It has been a few weeks of intense lessons.  Just like the falling leaves I have allowed things to fall out as well.I continue to count my blessings.  The days come and go, feeling the changes in the air, and praying for strength to weather the diversities.  The beauty of fall is in the scarves, sweaters, and warm socks to shelter the spirit.  “Pumpkin everything” becomes the theme.  I indulge in the small things like gathering seeds for next year, cleaning the garden and allowing nature to sleep for a while.  I love the way that decomposed soil welcomes me with all this rain.  I love the way I can sense rain before a forecast.  I love that I can still smile at the dance of trees in the forest.  And, I love that I can bring myself out of this funk when I allow myself to play.  Whether it is grieving, releasing, guilt, shame, or loss there is no act of human emotion that cannot be modified through the heart and the higher consciousness of love.   I am grateful for friends who know how to touch the core of my sadness and hold a cup of hot chocolate to get it out in the open allowing me to remember…this is real life. “Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds you plant.”~ Robert Louis Steven