You’d be forgiven for thinking it’s still summer, judging by the photograph above of hydrangeas still in full bloom, but if you look closer you might see the subtle signs of the start of decay. We marvel at the riotous colours of this season – deep green, mustard yellow, burnt orange, crimson, rich chestnut brown – and the rich, earthy smells, and we want them to linger; we want to soak up the warm autumn sun and wander endlessly through piles of crisp leaves. But Nature is never paused, and those crisp leaves will turn to soggy mulch after a few good downpours, the temperature will drop, and those rich hues will inevitably fade to leave the countryside a bit greyer. Once this crisp, clear, colourful part of autumn passes, we often feel sad that another year is drawing to an end and we want to hang on to it, we try to ignore the change and decay and focus on more uplifting thoughts, or are impatient for the next season. That’s totally understandable, and normal, but what if we looked at this from another perspective?
We could embrace the inevitable change and decline, accept the impermanence of nature (and indeed life), and be inquisitive about it all. After all, even though the flowers and leaves are dead and gone, their decay has fed the earth ready for next spring and there are still plenty of marvels around during later autumn and winter. The Japanese philosophy of ‘wabi sabi’ centres on an acceptance of the transient and unpredictable nature of life, and adopting the wisdom to live an imperfect life. It’s rooted in ancient Zen Buddhism and the tea ceremony which prizes not perfection, but imperfection, handmade tea bowls that are uneven in shape, with cracked glazes or discolouration. This isn’t about being gloomy, or not enjoying life; it’s not wanting to preserve that perfect autumn day with nothing to mar it. It’s about accepting that autumn and winter happen as regularly as spring and summer, birth and death carry equal weight, and that life has these balances. It’s not just about creating the picture-perfect life, of copying the sort of rustic simplicity we see on Instagram or glossy home magazines. We could invite a little ‘wabi sabi’ into our lives by slowing down a little, embracing the cycle of seasons, and enjoying the pleasure and simplicity of everyday life, without necessarily wanting to change or perfect it. Accept life for what it is NOW, don’t keep looking for some ideal that doesn’t exist, or you might miss the beauty in the everyday, the mundane, the ordinary.
I have to admit to spending some time trying to get the ‘perfect’ pictures on our trip to Thorp Perrow this weekend, and arranging my haul of leaves and chestnuts into Insta-worthy photographs, but I did also visually drink in the atmosphere of the place, and breathe in the rich, musty aromas of the change of the season. In the West, we’ve lost the knack of simply accepting life as it is: we don’t often see the beauty in a messy house or garden; we try to clean up and prettify the mud and rust instead of being fascinated by their chemistry. Richard Powell, author of “Wabi Sabi Simple“, says, “accepting the world as imperfect, unfinished, and transient, and then going deeper and celebrating that reality, is something not unlike freedom.”
That said, I’m not advocating for either ignoring your housework or monastic minimalism, but how about accepting the parts of your life and surroundings that aren’t perfect? Indeed, you could embrace the dents in your old furniture rather than polishing them to smooth perfection. They’re evidence of life in action – maybe you remember when you dropped the plate that made that dent, or the people who were around the table that day? Perhaps you could enjoy the few weeds in your lawn or path, and marvel at their tenacity in pushing through the soil and paving slabs, instead of automatically reaching for the weedkiller. There is something compelling about observing quite ordinary things; spend long enough doing it and you do become fascinated with them. When one of my sons was about 4, he was sitting on the doorstep deeply engrossed in something. I sat beside him to see what had caught his attention, and it was ‘just’ a woodlouse, apparently giving birth to baby woodlice. It was very ordinary but fascinating at the same time, and he sat there, watching, until the whole family had trundled off. On remembering this recently, I researched it and discovered that woodlice eggs hatch inside the mother, in a pouch similar to a kangaroo, where they mature until they’re ready to be ‘born’!
All this deep thinking isn’t to suggest that we sit around waiting for the inevitability of death, or live in drab surroundings because we don’t want to tamper with things – that’s far too depressing and we want to enjoy and immerse ourselves in our lives! There’s something joyous about observing natural changes and decline, without letting yourself become negative about those changes. You can live your life in riotous colour, with the loudest of music and friends, at the same time as being appreciative of the fact that you might not be able to do those things with the same vim and vigour at 80 as you did at 40. I simply invite you to notice those things which we often ignore. Who knows, that noticing and acceptance might add much greater meaning to your enjoyment of the louder, brighter, newer, and cleaner?!
This week, I challenge you to open your eyes a little to take in more of the mundane and imperfect, to give it more attention, and marvel in it. Let me know if you try it, and what you discover or experience!