The past few months have been filled with adventure.  Trips to Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio, Illinois, Iowa, and Pennsylvania.  Visits with scattered and seldom-seen friends and family.  Reunions with my high school class after 50 years and a cousin after 55. Four new half-marathon medals and a book with my name on the cover.  Yesterday's email announced that I had achieved silver medallion status by hopping around the country on Delta.

This morning I feel grateful and accomplished, savoring memories of events that came together as planned and produced their intended results.  I give thanks for a healthy body, a productive mind, enduring relationships, and the miracle of air travel that works well more often than not.  Looking back, I see a pile of warm fuzzies.   Looking forward, I am curious about what comes next.

The wind is blowing and leaves are puddling at the bases of naked trees.  Fall colors have peaked and, while the final fall patterns are spectacular, they pass quickly.  The same is true with the brilliant mix of travel, relationships, and goals that have decorated the autumn of my heart, mind, and soul. It is time again to prepare for winter.  To absorb and process the delight and lessons learned during fall.  It is time to deepen more and expand less.

I set this intention with eyes wide open to the holidays ahead and the frenzy that comes along for the ride.  My inner Scrooge cringes at the specter of holiday catalogs and extended shopping hours, a continual flow of addictive goodies, complex blending of holiday traditions, and the emotional vulnerability of a season when merry  takes center stage while lonely and bereaved seek dark corners to hide from view.

In this month that bridges from fall to winter, from Halloween to Thanksgiving Day, I am practicing mindful reflection.  I want to make thoughtful choices around social engagement and solitude, holiday gifts and letters, decorating at home and attending community events.  I want to embrace the spiritual messages of the season and their implications for daily life.  I want to simplify and streamline and to release the nonessential.  I want to be both generous and truthful, honoring my own values without devaluing those who look for something else.

Every season has a cycle of ebb and flow.  This autumn flowed for me with travel, re-connection, and check-marks on the bucket list.  Now I welcome the ebb of sitting by the fire with a furry cat on my lap, protecting white space on the calendar, and listening for whispered guidance for going deeper in this time of year.

How do you experience the ebb and flow between quieter times and busier ones?  How do you prepare  for the emotional and physical demands of winter holidays as they peek over the horizon?