Here in New York City, it is fall. I love autumn; it is a beautiful season of transition. The temperatures have dropped enough for me to close a few windows as we prepare for our first sight of snow. 

As a great teacher, nature shifts from loss and makes room for growth. The ground is full of leaves, while plenty are still on the trees.  There is a promise of the winter that is yet to come.  

This week, I felt overwhelmed. I missed an important meeting and have been out of step. There is always so much to process this time of year, and in an attempt to clear my head, I went for a walk in a beautiful garden overlooking the Hudson River. The upcoming winter requires that the trees prepare for the transition. They must let go of their beautiful fall leaves and seal the spots on their branches where the leaves were once attached. This process of letting go and healing makes it possible for the tree to survive the wind, sleet, snow, and the winter's harshness. The wind blows, and the branches sway, but without their leaves, they have a better chance of not breaking under the weight of heavy snow. 

Nothing is lost while the leaves scatter. They form a blanket on the ground and become mulch that protects the tree's roots. Everything works in harmony, and everything has a purpose.  Nature has a way of getting organized; she wastes nothing, and lets go of the unnecessary to better focus on what is necessary in the moment.

 Nature does not have limiting beliefs, thoughts, and emotions.  Nature does not resist the changes necessary to make room for growth. Because of this, we can all surrender and trust in the process. Every winter will be followed by a spring. 

We find our own truth by doing the mental work of releasing and forgiving and asking key questions: How can I use this pain? How is this perfect? What can I do that comes from peace, is for me, and is not trying to change anything?

Be not unlike the autumn tree, and easily and comfortably release that which is no longer needed in your life.