Following the beat of....

I watched the Queen's funeral the other day and the procession that took her coffin to the Wellington Arch. Even several days later, the music of the march stayed with me. The scarlet uniforms of the Band of the Grenadier Guards, with their Busby headdresses made of fur were imposing. In the centre of the phalanx of musicians was the drummer whose rhythmic beat set the pace for the thousands of military personnel escorting the Queen to the next step in her last journey, the hearse ride to St George's Chapel in Windsor. The precision was incredible as each set of feet rose and fell at exactly the same time causing a visible gentle sway to the sea of marchers.

 The human sense of rhythm or beat is innate; we can recognize patterns in music without training and without even paying particular attention. Our brain automatically translates these patterns, allowing us not only to clap in time, but to change seamlessly to a different rhythm should the timing change. Interestingly, and totally as an offside, the fact that every human can recognize a musical beat, does not mean that every human can dance to it. Having the proverbial 'two left feet', I can attest to this.

Metronome

This ability begins in the womb with the sound and comfort of your mother's heartbeat. Neuroscientists study how the brain responds to rhythm which in turn affects they way we move and even speak. Further, they look at how music therapies can enhance performance in sports and in those who suffer from the effects of diseases which inhibit movement, like Parkinson's disease.

It had been thought that this was a uniquely human ability, but some scientists have found that rhesus monkeys have the ability 'to maintain a temporal rhythm'. The explanation regarding this, descended into formulas and confusing language well beyond me, and while it is very interesting, I thought that this did not compare to cats, who instead of following or recognizing patterns in time, have the ability to set their own patterns and impose them on humans. 

I wondered what kinds of things set the drum beats that we live our lives by. There are the circadian rhythms; the mental, physical and behavioural changes that generally follow a 24 hour cycle and which are primarily affected by the sun's rising and setting. Since there are 'early birds' and 'nighthawks' in our family, I know that not all body clocks are set the same way, though! It can also be a challenge to encourage your new baby to recognize that night is when Mommy needs to sleep.

Autumn Equinox falls within this week. The movement of the days from season to season is a steady beat to our lives. I think that a lot of people now think of the seasons in terms of comfort or discomfort, whereas at one time the seasons each had tasks upon which your survival depended. Mabon is the Celtic celebration of this equinox, when the day and night hours are equal and when harvest is celebrated. This tradition means it is a time of balance, as well as a time to be grateful. I love the fall with its cooler temperatures and the beauty of the changing leaves, but it is also bittersweet as the the leaves will fall and the cold and bleakness of early nights in November approach just as surely.

Perhaps the drum that beats the loudest on a daily basis is the family. When you are a child, the rhythm of your life is set by your parents and their traditions and beliefs. Should you marry, your life will encompass the rhythm of your husband's work, possibly your own, and then the way that you, together, incorporate the patterns of both your families. Should you have a family of your own, the rhythm changes again to include the needs and schedules of your children. By now life can be more like a symphony with too many, and sometimes opposing, rhythms. It is hard to hear, and then follow, a beat that answers your needs. 

Whilst our days advance at a prescribed pace and the seasons change in turn, life within a family has the most changeable rhythms. When you have babies, the days and nights pass as one, and then come the years of the endless routines of work, school and the celebration of family occasions. Sometimes the drum beat so fast I felt that I could not keep up, but then when my parents died, it seemed as though time stopped. the rhythm of my life up until that time, changed forever.

The rhythm of my life is different now. The frenetic years of child rearing are past and our children have their own families, which includes me, but does not depend on me. So now, instead of living at a run, I now choose to saunter, to wander, to amble...to dawdle. Which suits me just fine.

To everything...

I think today may mark the arrival of autumn. Nothing is certain, but I am hoping. For those who enjoy the heat, this has been the summer of dreams, but for the rest of us, a test of endurance. Mother Nature either has a warped sense of humour, or is menopausal; being of an age where this experience is first-hand, I vote for the second option. After a summer of 30 degree temperatures, we woke up to 15 this morning, with an expected high of 18. There seems a certain degree of malice here. However, the change is welcome.

Each season evokes different feelings for me, and while fall is a time of year that I love, I also find it quite melancholy. (This may not come as a huge surprise, and I shall attribute it to my Irish roots from my great-grandmother.) I guess it is a reminder to be grateful for the bounty, the beauty and the warmth, for they will pass for a time. 

Fall can be a time of adjustment, from first days of school taking our babies away for the first time, to first days of college, taking our babies geographically far away and leaving us with empty nests. Teary transitions often. 

Fall is a time of transformation; from green to crimson and gold, from flower to fruit and seed, from the heat of the sun to a cooler time. 

Fall is a time of transition; from growth to fallow and rest, from green fullness to bare beauty, from the front porch to the chair by the fire. In the garden the activity of furry and winged friends becomes frenetic as time is shortening to prepare for winter survival. On the path the birdsong is becoming quiet as summer nesters leave to winter where it is warmer. 

Fall is also a time of contrast; lush to bare, green to gold to brown, warm to cold, light to dark...

and beginnings to endings. I know that my beloved brother Alan is approaching the end of his life. It is a painful reality that is ever in my heart and mind. I am reminded of how his was a constant presence at the beginning of mine. My mom was 40 when I was born, the last of six. She was unwell after my birth and Alan often cared for me. I guess that is why I have such a deep bond with him even though we have spent our adult lives in different provinces. The pain of birth and the pain of loss.

(Alan and I)

(my grandma, Alan and I)

Yet even in the midst of sorrow, there is joy as our oldest son marries and starts a new journey. As a mother you must accept that whoever your son marries will become the new and most important woman in his life. Knowing this, you can only hope that he will choose someone that you can love and respect as well. I am so grateful as I watch with joy as my new daughter carefully tends his heart, and helps him become all that he can be. There really are no words. And, as if this were not more than I could ever hope... there are four lovely children for us to open our hearts to. A time of thanksgiving and abundance. 

Fall is the time of harvest on our calendar; a time to take account of what we have to be thankful for. Do we always feel thankful? Of course not. Can we make a practice of being thankful? Yes. We have to practice the things that do not come naturally to us..like being grateful, like being kind, like saying thank you. It comes back to stopping amidst the busyness and taking just a moment to take stock....

 and be grateful.