Ready for a Challenge? Let's Do It Together
- Maggie Wallem Rowe
- Sep 1
- 3 min read
AUDIO LETTER
Got your hands full? I'm happy to read my letter to you instead.
I'M MAKING PEACE WITH FALL, Y'ALL.
But first, I’ve missed you, friends! In August I pressed pause on these weekly letters to finish my new book proposal and host visits from family and friends. And then suddenly, whoop! Labor Day—the unofficial end of summer—arrived as early as it possibly could this year, like a party guest who showed up while I was still prepping dinner.
True confession, hand over heart—fall’s not my favorite time of year. Autumn’s shorter days and colder nights cue up Melancholy Maggie, and it’s not a pretty tune—more off-key kazoo than catchy chorus. Marking ¾ time in the year feels like music in a minor key, no matter how beautiful the composition. Maybe it’s because for many years I lived with SAD—Seasoned Affective Disorder—which disappeared with sunshine and spring.
Yet so many of you have told me why you love this season, and I get it. Cooler weather! Brighter colors! Pumpkin spice everything! In many parts of the country, Autumn struts her stuff on a red carpet of leaves as if it’s the biggest runway in the world. She’s gorgeous, I admit. I want to get her autograph. And why not? She’s wearing a Designer label.
I’ve been asking a lot of questions of Autumn’s Maker, and mine. Am I averse to the last quarter of the year because in it, I see myself? Not the showiness, no, but the sense of the spring and summer of life long gone, and winter fast approaching?
When I turned 65, I read Joan Chittister’s reflective work The Gift of Years, and at 72 I’m journeying through its pages once again. Last week, these particular words stopped me, arresting my attention as if they were a constable on patrol for my soul.
“The truth is that this new stage of life liberates in a way no other stage of growth can possibly do. All the striving is over now. We don’t have to prove ourselves anymore. . .The only thing required of us now is the blooming of the self. Like autumn flowers, rich in color, deep in tone, sturdy in the wind, our lives not only have new color, they bring with them the kind of interior depth a fast-moving world so desperately needs.”
Autumn flowers. What kind of late-blooming beauties do we want to be?
Bright yellow mums, sunny and cheerful.
Delicate pansies with their pensive faces, surprisingly sturdy.
Stately goldenrod, lovely but problematic. Best to keep at a distance.
Many of you share my season of life. Seniors over 65 are the fastest-growing population group in the United States. As we ripen, will we be sour or sweet? Open to learning, or closed to new ideas? Still moving or sitting in place? There are many older people who refuse to adjust, who in essence wither on the vine years before their time. As Chittister notes, “Their souls spoil in their shells.”
What kind of fragrance will become our signature scent as we embrace the blessing of advanced years?
I have a challenge for us, friends! In the next 12 weeks—starting today and concluding the week of Thanksgiving—let’s seize as much joy as we can and scatter it into the lives of others. Joy comes in many shades, and I’d love to know how you plan to paint your world this fall.
Let’s seize the colors of joy together. We’ll catch them mid-air, like confetti that refuses to fall, and we’ll share them with each other.
Are you with me? A simple, “I’m in!” comment will do.
(And don’t forget to watch for our “First Friday” book giveaway later this week. This monthly “Shelf Indulgence” is my way of sharing favorite reads with you.)
So much love,
Maggie