Brown, Brown, or Brown


We’ve accompanied this trail through its transitions from Winter to Spring, to Summer, to Fall, and back to its frozen terrain.   Through the seasonal shades of serene white, lush green, fading orange, and deepening reds we’ve made our running gaits.    Today white graced our path, holding on and letting go.   The warmer temperature was keeping memories of Spring close.    Summer was asleep, nestled away and out of reach.   Fall was playing peek-a-boo with an occasional yellow leaf.

Three seasons converging on this second day of December, beginnings of a new month that ushers us to an ending.     As the days rush towards the thirty-first, we will feel the tug and pull as December prepares to leave.     We will ponder the year that has quickly sped by in disbelief, questioning who or what was time’s thief.  We will look forward, grateful for what we see as a whole year that awaits.   Ample and plenty among the words describing time that we will embrace.

Today I was drawn into the brown hues to my left and to my right.   Yet, as much as I tried, I couldn’t get a photo to capture what was in my sight.    I anticipate others would think the view gloomy without color or vibrancy.   I kept thinking there is power in this pathway, it is speaking of grounding.   After all, brown symbolizes roots, an anchoring.

I was also watching my running partner who is usually steps ahead of me paving our way.  Her nose, her eyes, and her ears ever vigilant that squirrels stay in their rightful place.    Most of the time she runs on the same path as me.  Occasionally she prefers to run parallel to the trail among the grass and leaves.    Today as I watched her zig and zag and then run straight in front of me, the sides of the trail took on new meaning.   One side became choice one, the other side choice three.  And in the middle was choice two, that I also coin choice easy.

All three options share in commonality.    The horizon ahead can be clearly seen.   The middle path looks the clearest, a sureness on where to step.   Choice one and choice three are murky in what may lie ahead.    None appear to be a bad option, at least per my running mate.  Each time she steps onto the path unknown, she remains safe.   She explores, experiments, and she listens to her intuition to guide what steps she takes.   She slows, she pauses, and she stops when her inner whisper says wait.   She isn’t afraid of the brown leaves for she has faith in what is below their bedding.   Even if there is a stick or a bump, there is certainty in the ground beneath.

Choice is ours in each moment of each day.  Small or large, there is option A or B that we can take.   How often do we choose the option that we can more easily see?  Do we have opportunity to occasionally run on the path of leaves?   Can we bring our view of our next step closer in to where we currently are?  Would we take a different path if we didn’t try to look ahead as far?    When we are moving swiftly and safely on one path, if we become curious, are we able to slow our speed?  Can we pause or stop long enough to see other possibilities?

Of course, true to life, it is the dance of doubt and uncertainty between choices A or B that grow us most in trusting.    As we wrestle with which option is “best”, we get to our centeredness, our grounding.  We get to that knowing place that says this is right for me.

Brown, brown, and more brown along our pathway today.  Mother Nature a powerful messenger guiding our steps to take.


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