The month of September usually comes to me in a blur, a rush of new schedules and changing temperatures and evidence of the hard work (and fun!) put into the work of Summer. Not only are there tomatoes, peppers, and gourds to harvest, but the attitudes and habits cultivated over the last few months start to become visible once the back-to-school dust settles and routines revert to normal.
After June and July and August’s adventure-filled fervor, September’s slow crawl into Fall seems a time of rest, renewal, and reflection. As the weather cools, I am invited by the morning breeze to take my coffee to the front porch, and encourage the kids to run off their overnight energy in the yard before the day even truly begins. This provides an impetus to breathe it all in: the cool air, the routine, the habits we’ve cultivated when left to our own devices.
The summer seems chaos in comparison to the calm, collected steps of September as it rolls itself into Fall and, eventually, Winter. It seems the whole world becomes quieter, especially since the loudest of my four children is off to school during the day. While he is learning how to recognize sight words, the three youngest and I continue to cultivate garden of our lives; both the physical plot at our community garden, and the ethereal one filled with fruits of slowly-digested story times and connection with each other.
As my doula career begins, I feel a similar slowing: a refocusing, as it were, of what I want for my own life and what I want to provide to the community at large. There are opportunities abounding, as birth support returns to being the norm rather than the exception, and the slowness of this month reminds me to take a step back and remind myself to being sowing the seeds of knowledge, experience, and open-mindedness so that I may reap the benefits in the future.