by Inés McBryde

I recently opened a letter that I mailed to myself last fall. Inside was a dried up leaf that I saved to remind myself of powerful lessons that I didn’t want to forget. But to understand the story behind this leaf, you have to know that growing up in Nicaragua the first 18 years of my life, I never saw a pumpkin outside of an American storybook. I thought trees of different colored leaves were only found in fairy-tales. We have many tropical trees in Nicaragua, but their leaves don’t turn fiery red, burnt orange, or lightning yellow nor do they fall in autumn! We seemed to only have 2 seasons… rainy and non-rainy, and either one is always hot! When I moved to Fort Worth, Texas to attend TCU, I eagerly anticipated snowy winters and those orange leaves that captured my imagination…but the Texans said, “In Texas, if you blink, you miss the Fall.” They also said crazy things like, “If you don’t like the weather here, just wait 15 minutes…” “TRUE.THAT!” I later thought as I shoved the gas pedal all the way down trying to drive away from a tornado hitting downtown Ft.Worth!

Many autumns have passed since that first Texas one. A couple of years ago, I was preparing a talk for a women’s silent prayer retreat. I found myself nestled in the beautiful woods of Chenal Valley inside the inter-faith Arkansas House of Prayer. Alone. Quiet. Searching. I found more than I was looking for. What I learned was a profound lesson, a lesson in the leaves of the trees, a lesson available to all, regardless of our spiritual status, a lesson of hope and growth. The lesson is in the leaves of the trees & available to all.

My heart waited in expectation inside a monastic, silent room at the AHOP on October of 2011. Shoes off. Socks off. Cell phone off & left outside. I started slow, tapering down my breathing, getting quiet enough to hear my heart beating, beating for a word from God, a revelation that there’s still hope for this struggling heart. I thumb through my Bible, slowly, not wanting the pages to turn too loud lest I miss a still small voice. A curiously random question arises in my mind…

Why do leaves fall?

Huh? Wait. What does that have to do with anything? I’m trying to center myself around the holy written words but missing some words hanging on a branch. Again…

Look up, why do leaves fall?

I look out the giant window at the turning leaves. “Well DUH. Leaves fall because… they fall! That’s why it’s called Fall, right?”

Go home & do a search on why leaves fall.

Fast forward to a search at a website called “Science Made Simple.” Because Lord knows I need simple. And the revelation came alright. It came after digging through some scientific mumbo jumbo about the intricate processes between summer & winter, between the tree, the sun, water, roots, food, and leaves. Simple. Yet hard. And I had never paid attention. I was looking down & not looking up at the trees. Not listening to their message. Over and over. Thousands of leaves singing a message.

During the winter there’s not enough light or water to produce food for the trees, so the trees enter a winter rest and live off of the food they have stored up in the summer. The brown color in the leaves that fall is made up from wastes left in the leaves. Leaves fall and when they do… they let go of this unnecessary waste. If they don’t fall, they weigh down the tree inside and out. They stunt the tree’s growth. Therefore there’s no room for new growth come spring around the corner. I sat and looked at this explanation, flabbergasted…all these years living in the USA and nobody told me that:

Trees poop through their leaves when they fall?! *GASP*

Deep sigh. Maybe I’m entering a winter in my soul—a time to rely on my reserves and let go of things weighing me down. Don’t we all go through these times? Don’t we all need to throw off unnecessary weight that keeps us down? Waste that doesn’t belong in our hearts? I make a list in my head of toxic emotions, worry that paralyzes me, fears that consume me, shame that tags along. Haven’t we all had to cut-off co-dependent relationships that spiral us down? (Please tell me it wasn’t just me)

So next time you get a chance this Fall as it falls upon us, step outside & under a tree that’s losing its leaves. Look up. Breathe slowly. Slow down. Search inside you. Behold the fallen leaves. Behold those soft gusts of wind that clip the brown leaves from the branch. Watch that leaf tumble around and fall. My toddler son loves watching this. The process is beautiful. Some things…some people…just have GOT to go if we are going to move forward in life. In the wise words of one unnamed brotha’ “I think I’ve been *constipated* for a long time”. Sister-friend: release those leaves in your life! Release and make room for things & people that build you up. We are all designed to grow & bloom.

I mailed myself a letter last year to arrive this Fall, with that wrinkled up fall leaf that fell onto my lap when I opened it. Today, I’m living off of last year’s truth that was stored up in the mail.

Con amor (with love),
Inés

P.S. Sorry to all who thought this was going to be a post about Pumpkin recipes. I’ve never done that in my life, but I have a pretty good Black Bean soup that’ll make you wanna slap your mama.

Don’t let the Irish-married-last name fool you. I was born in Spain, but grew up in Nicaragua eating beans & rice. I married a pale-white blonde guy from El Doray-do. We have a toddler who keeps us laughing in stitches. I work with immigrants at the local children’s hospital. I dance to salsa music. I travel. I hate injustice. I dream in Spanish.

Check out her blog, InesMcBryde.com