It's Autumn soon, (on the 22nd September). It's incredibly stereotypical to love this time of year, but I do. Maybe that's something inherent in humanity, maybe something about the temperatures, or the foliage or the fact that we're getting more sleep as the darkness encroaches on our schedule makes us feel a bit more alive.
Maybe it's more societal. The summer harvest is in, the big growing season is over and now we sit back and relax for a few weeks before the weather begins and makes everything just a tad more strenuous. Maybe, due to our agricultural heritage, we've made the school and academic years begin in Autumn (to let the kids help with the harvest). Maybe it's because coffee shops great and small, both the lumbering giant franchises and the sickening quaint local stores, have convinced the population that they need their seasonal fix of pumpkin spice or whatever it is. Maybe it's that everyone is kind of tired of forcing their recreation backlog into the summer, when they're supposed to be active, and now have the excuse as the nights draw in to just lump themselves in their caves with loved ones.
Whatever it is, I don't care. I love the autumn. I've always associated it with new growth, which is weird because what follows is the winter and everything is dormant. The habits I start to form in this season, the seeds I plant now, always yield the most in the years to come. It was autumn that I convinced myself to try out strength training (and look where that got me), it was conversations in the autumn that lead me to picking up Marx, and Federici, and start engaging with philosophy.
Already I can feel stirrings in my body as I desire to enter a new period of growth and change. I'm not sure where it'll lead me, what seeds I'll plant. I'll scatter as many as possible and see what grows.
It's always a bittersweet time of year for me. I adore the autumn, and the crisp cool air that's supposed to come with it. The change in seasons is especially obvious to me when I do my morning's training routine. I watch the light fade away little-by-little each morning until I'm training in complete darkness, and this generally only changes in the Spring when the light returns and the world is reborn.
The upside to this is that I get to train underneath, and subsequently watch, the stars. Those tiny pinpricks of light flaring billions of kilometres away, that have fascinated humanity for countless aeons. I fall into the same trap. There's often times where I pause what I'm doing mid-rep in order to stare at them for a bit. There's something about having my muscles and sinews aflame, staving off the cold, that makes me want to stare quite literally into space.
I like how these same stars have borne witness to the greatest events and saddest catastrophes of my species. I like how they are indifferent, and by their nature shine upon me the same as they did all of history's greatest heroes and villains. I like how they've witnessed the rebirth of humanity over and over again, how new generations enter as the old leave, how political systems change and revitalise or condemn their adherents. I like how there's a moment, at the end of every set, where I push myself forward just a little bit further and I feel something inside of me shift, and grow stronger.
I like how every day, similiar to my species before me and after me, I am reborn underneath those stars. Happy Equinox.