Autumn Transitions
What do leaves, octopuses and salmon have in common that cancer doesn’t?
Autumn always feels so big. The transitions that occur during this season seem to outweigh most others, and my urge to introduce color and light into darker days grows more insistent. These months are my strong time though, when mushrooms start fruiting from the folds in my brain, and desires for creativity and cozy community grow stronger. And when I feel I have more company going into the dark.
Thank goodness for that well of strength, because I’m embarking on a few new adventures this Fall, some by choice and some by circumstance, and quite frankly I’m exhausted at the moment. This post will be a shorter one than usual because I’m a little swept up in it all, but it was certainly time to connect with you dear readers.
Transitions.
I’m sure you all have your own unique relationships with change and if you’re like me you usually do better with transitions you have yourself invited versus the ones that are imposed upon you. If you’re a successful roller with whatever comes your way then you are one of the people I have probably admired with awe and respect over the years, as I’ve leaned into more opportunities to exercise those muscles. I can feel the progress and benefit for sure.
The recent changes I’ve invited include volunteering at Dougy Center, a grief center for youth and their adult caregivers in Portland. As their extensive training ended last week, another training started with INELDA, an End of Life Doula organization. That training will keep me pretty busy through the end of this month. Both of these experiences align with my nearly two-decade long desire to help people actualize their beliefs at the end of life whether it be how they die or what happens to their bodies afterward.
There are some changes, however, that I haven’t invited and have been taking up a bit of heart and head space as well. A close family member was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago and it has been a slow process of discovery as she move’s through the medical system. It is a true test of patience and going with the flow for me, especially since they are in Michigan and I want to be helpful. So, it’s giving me some time to muse and reflect on things...like…
Senescence…
It is the gorgeous scientific word for deterioration in the aging process. Is it just me, or could this word sound pleasing in parseltongue? Like Hyacinth.
In biology, senescence is when the cells permanently stop dividing, but don’t die, so they just kind of build up in the body of the organism.
Many leaves go through senescence each autumn, turning colors and dropping to the ground.
Giant Pacific Octopuses go through senescence during the last month of their lives, laying eggs and caring for them until they die doing so.
Salmon go through senescence as they travel miles upriver to their spawning beds to mate, lay eggs and die, becoming food for forest ecosystems.
Humans clearly go through senescence as well, after a certain age or after certain injuries occur.
Cancer is not senescent. It is what makes it so hard for us to combat it. Cancer researchers are on the constant prowl for ways to introduce senescence to cancer cells, keeping them from further dividing. So, tonight, in my very best parseltongue, I imagine myself whispering senescence deep into those cells across thousands of miles…and I like it. Harry Potter nerds, what does this mean about me? I’ve always considered myself Team Ravenpuff. Am I in trouble? Discuss.
To the rest of you, I leave you pondering how all our Autumn months end in -er.
Goodnight all and thanks for being here.
