the clarity of descent.

I was speaking with a client recently, discussing the ways they are aligning with the season, and not.  In five element theory, this season of Autumn is ruled by the metal element, which I’ve always thought was a little obscure.  Earth, fire, air, and water, sure – but metal?  What’s up with metal representing my favorite season of downshifting and softening?  Upon deeper investigation, metal represents the energy of Autumn kindly.  When aligned, it is the energy of clarity, distillation, and cutting through to what’s essential.  This can mean clarifying our thoughts, methods, and ways of walking in the world, but out of balance might look more like a self-critical mind, racing thoughts, or too much stimulation that ends up feeling like anxiety or nervousness.  Metal is the energy of the mind at work, but there are so many ways that can go wrong in our culture built on productivity.  My client spoke of feeling full, exhausted, and wanting to soften the excess tone they are humming with.  But to soften into the energy of darkness, nighttime, and abundant kidney qi (which comes in winter), we can’t skip the sunset.  Fall is the season of just that, a slow-motion descent into rest.  The metal energy that we can wield (think of sword play) adds clarity and tone on a cellular level, making the yield into gravity a graceful one. 

As a dancer in my twenties, I used to get slightly drunk, just enough to alter my equilibrium, and stagger around my live/work studio playing “pathways”.  Pathways was a movement puzzle I made up: how can I make it to the floor from any position without knocking a bone or shaking the floor?  It was so satisfying to use the alcohol to take me off balance and allow my buttered, wise body to engage in a downward flight.  I’m not advocating that anyone get drunk and try this, but there’s something to adjusting to how we find our way to softness that might be useful in this time.  We are all slowly coming down out of a massive amount of cultural anxiety (high tone) from the past pandemic years.  Using the energy of the season to support our integration of what is essential just might bring the clarity we need to avoid getting stuck in a rigidity that only leads to debilitating exhaustion. 

Instead of ‘pathways’, these days I use the breath, inhaling while acknowledging the simple gratitude and joy for life that an in-breath brings, and being with the innate grief that comes with exhaling.  Inhaling joy, exhaling grief.  It’s a physical practice, based in the very tangible experience of the lungs taking in air (life) and letting go (tiny death).  Each breath we take offers us a moment to truly be with all the grief and joy we’ve lived through, allowing these deep emotions to shape us into a smooth blade of grace and clarity.  This Autumn, may you know such clarity from your biggest ideas to your tiniest cell.