Daughter of the earth
Child of the soil
If she fades in the growing darkness
drops her leaves as the days grow short
Why wouldn’t I?

All summer long
I push through the cobwebs
of her morning eyelids
to see what she sees when
she first opens her eyes
The stained glass windows of
her emerald sanctuary
sparkle in the dazzling glory of
summer sunshine
I sat in the moss that covers her backbone
and watch the wind
gently rustle her hair
I feel life oozing from her every pore
All summer long
I lose myself
in the glory of
Mother Earth

Her eyelids stay shut longer and longer
The signs of her life
her vibrancy
fades
drops
falls
from trees and bushes
Bright green fades to brown.
As I walk in her forests
the trees whisper
“We’re tired,” they say
and the leaves nod their agreement
“All summer long we’ve worked,
making food to nourish and grow ourselves
and give shade to humankind
But now it is time to rest”

I know it is true
Feel it in my bones
Weariness and the need for rest
I pass a dying corn field and long
to lay in the center and return
to the mother who birthed me long ago
Autumn rains drip down her cheeks
and mingle with my tears
as I grieve the lessening of the light
the coming days of clouds
The descending darkness
We bury the green to make room for the cold
An unfair trade and every part of me resents it
I feel as old and tired as the tree
with the hollowed insides
Decades of creating nourishment
for the hungry around me
but never finding my own autumn of rest
have left me depleted
Scooped out
Empty

Now color fades on me
Strength a fragment of what it once was
but where does a daughter of earth go
to find her own autumn?
To fall into a pile of her sisters
and do nothing but rest
Close her kitchen and feed no one
But the little girl inside of her

Daughter of the earth
Child of the soil
If she fades in the growing darkness
drops her leaves as the days grow short
Why wouldn’t I?

daughter of the earth

I struggle to enjoy fall the way many seem to. I love the vibrant colors of fall and the cooler days, but there’s something about knowing the dark days of winter are almost here, that leaves me a little numb and I’m unable to completely absorb the sheer beauty of fall.

This year I even decided that I am going to fully embrace the season. Soak up every bit of color and crunch. Revel in sweatshirts and bonfires, apple dumplings and candlelight. But even on the most gorgeous of days, when so many things were going good and it felt like I had no reason to feel sad, I still felt this weight pressing in. Things that normally had me up and raring to go, felt like too much. Logically, it made no sense.

I kept pushing through it because, well, we were slammed at work and there was so much to do. When I let myself slow down and really pay attention, is when it dawned on me.

It’s my SAD kicking in. According to the Cleveland Clinic, Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is depression that gets triggered by a change in seasons, usually when fall starts. It usually starts and ends at the same time every year. I don’t remember dealing with it when we lived in the tropics. But as I look back over the recent years back in Ohio, I see a pattern. This year, while it caught me off guard, it didn’t surprise me.

child of the soil

I feel my body is actively grieving the loss of light, warmth, and green. There’s nothing to do but let the grief come and roll with it. Even on the days when the sun is still shining and the leaves are glorious.

Grief does not make logical sense. It has a life and cycle of it’s own. As an ISFJ on the Myers Briggs personality type, I experience life through my senses. Feeling warmth, seeing green, smelling the earth are all so life-giving to me. I dislike wearing shoes and love nothing more than feeling the earth beneath my bare toes. I utterly hate being cold. And cloudy, dull days with no green on the horizon make me not want to live.. I’m not being dramatic. It’s just how it is.

I’m deeply connected to the earth. Feel her changes in my bones. While I know that this will pass, as all seasons do, I am giving space for all that I feel right now.

Daughter of the earth. That’s who I am.

I realize the mention of “not wanting to live” may have been triggering…if so, there’s help.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline – Call 800-273-TALK (8255)
If you or someone you know is in crisis—whether they are considering suicide or not—please call the toll-free Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) to speak with a trained crisis counselor 24/7.

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline connects you with a crisis center in the Lifeline network closest to your location. Your call will be answered by a trained crisis worker who will listen empathetically and without judgment. The crisis worker will work to ensure that you feel safe and help identify options and information about mental health services in your area. Your call is confidential and free.

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