By Kathy Oswalt-Forsythe

September signals summer’s end, and the arrival of fall. And while it’s hard to leave those beautiful, sunny days behind, autumn offers beauty all her own. Evenings are cooler, mosquitoes disappear, harvesting begins.

The changing seasons are always a reminder of the many endings and beginnings we experience, and how life and time on earth includes many passages, changes, as well as fresh starts.

Most obvious and relevant this time of year is the return to school. Remember the nervous excitement of the new school year? Moving to the next grade? Meeting the new teachers?

The night before, we carefully selected and laid out the 1st-day-of-school outfit. The next morning, freshly scrubbed, we armed ourselves with new crayons, folders, and sharp pencils. We squeezed our summer feet into our school shoes and climbed the steep school bus steps. We were ready. Determined to impress our new teachers. Excited for a fresh start.

I remember in our childhood games, if we really blew a pitch or missed a goal or struck out, we would cry, “Do over!” Most often we were met with a few grumbles and eventual agreement. Occasionally I encouraged some “do overs” as a parent and even in my classroom.

If one of our children responded to a parental request with immediate attitude, I sometimes said, “Okay, I want you to walk out of the room, come back in, and let’s try that again.” Often it was a relief to our children, and it felt like they learned something. Of course, we couldn’t use the “do over” every time, but now and then, opportunity for a fresh start was sometimes allowed.

I used “do overs” on occasion in the classroom, too. “Hey, let’s try that again. And think about how you are talking.” Yup. Usually, a student would tuck his or her head, recognize the behavior or words that needed correcting, and immediately comply, allowing our work and discussions to continue.

And it isn’t just kids that need the opportunity for forgiveness and a fresh start. We all need the chance to try a discussion or activity again, to try a different approach to resolve a conflict or difficult situation, to have a do-over.

Sometimes it’s hard to admit that something isn’t working. Changes in life and changes in thinking happen regularly. And just because we’ve shifted direction on a project or change the way we view a situation doesn’t mean we’ve failed. It is really another form of fresh start. Sometimes that might mean adjusting or changing our goals. Or mending a fence or setting new boundaries in a relationship.

A quote by Mary Pickford touches on the importance of starting over. “You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for the thing that we call ‘failure’ is not the falling down, but the staying down.”

It’s a Fine Life.

By Kathy Oswalt-Forsythe

The garden is in its full glory. The hydrangea bushes droop with blossoms; the black-eyed Susans smile throughout the beds; the zinnias sing in riotous colors. Gardeners everywhere tuck their spades and scissors in their pockets, stand up and stretch, and breathe deeply.

Gardening is a creative practice in patience and persistence. Victories and failures. Joys and sorrows.
Gardens present their caretakers with occasional opportunities to pause and appreciate the beauty of their work and the bounty they receive.

Committing to a garden is much like this journey of life. For both gardens and relationships to thrive, they demand consistent care and attention. If we become inattentive and look away for too long, weeds invade and take over.

We have been working on our gardens, expanding them, adjusting them, weeding them for over 30 years.

We are strictly flower gardeners. We have tried fruits and vegetables throughout the decades but have found our best success with perennial and annual flowers.

Surprises happen in our gardens.

Sometimes they are aggravating: the mulberry trees which vigorously emerge along the picket fence; the blue jay that dives for my head as I walk below the redbud tree; the poison ivy creeping silently under the daylilies.

But more often the surprises are pleasant: a cedar waxwing feeding its young in the spirea; the resurrection of a rosebush we thought dead; a tiny bunny who darts from space to space as we water.

Similarly, unexpected things happen all the time in our lives. Sometimes they are heartbreaking: hard words with family or friends; a troubling test result; or the loss of a relationship. But then a friend we haven’t seen in years knocks at our door; a new restaurant opens down the street; we rock a new grandbaby.

In my experience, things eventually come back in balance and life rights itself.

My friends Bob and Rachel gave me the book “Inciting Joy” a month ago. I heard the author, Ross Gay, read some of his poetry on an NPR program where he described how joy felt to him. This gift, this book of essays, tackles the reality that joy is never in isolation. That sorrow is never far away. He reminds us that both are a part of life. Both can and do exist within “the same room.”

So true, but it’s a challenge to embrace joy while sorrow clouds our view. To live fully, we must persist in seeking the sun, sowing new seeds, improving the soil.

Whatever this life brings, the sun rises and sets, the cardinal sings his beautiful song, the roses emit their intoxicating fragrance.

Like my morning walk through the garden, each day offers opportunities to pull some weeds. To clean up parts of our life that we have neglected. To care for and nurture our loved ones.

It also offers a chance to try some new plants. To greet someone warmly. To be fully in the moment.

It’s a Fine Life.