Dispatches: The Battering of November
Naturally, just as the big lunar eclipse was set to begin outside, the clouds came out of nowhere and it began to rain. It’s going to clear up and get sunny first thing in the morning, after the eclipse is over. It’s also barely going to get out of the thirties. Who knows - some of this rain could even freeze.
Such, it could be said, is the nature of November in any year, damnable, contemptible month if ever there was one. Doubly so, one could say, is the nature of this November, the weird confusing boxing match that seems to be November of 2021, and much commentary could also be made regarding how fitting all of this is within the broader batshit nervous wreck vibe that is 2021 as a whole. What a year, what a year.
But indeed, the likelihood is high that I would be complaining at a similar level at this point in any given year, regardless of any specifics, even regardless of whether or not I found myself cheated out of a halfway decent eclipse. November sucks. It almost goes without saying that November weather sucks, but it’s way deeper than that. Sometimes, it’s almost like there’s a postpartum void that comes along with the “post-harvest” time (which is now). This is the time of year when I always stress to people that, even though we have almost a month and a half left on the calendar, the actual work of the year is complete. This means that frantic activity and especially the launching of new projects should be paused in favor of retrospectives, assessments, and looking forward at the year to come.
As you might imagine, I think that my own advice is good, but that never should be taken to mean that I myself find it easy to follow. For anyone accustomed to activity, to building, to maintaining and managing, to making a move while preparing for three more - and especially for anyone who’s got more than one game going at a time - slowing down and especially accepting that the harvest is what it is, that this year has been tallied, a tally to which not a dollop more of grain shall be added, it all just feels like anathema. And yet it’s what we’re all called to do.
At the same time, for me personally there are more factors at play with respect to the eleventh month than simple-sounding choices about attitude and orientation. This is the point in the year, if not before, when I find myself just beaten to absolute hell by the locomotive juggernaut that has invariably been the fall thus far. I start off September each year positively filled with the blazing glorious energy of the summer’s sun, ready to implement new systems, strategies, and reforms to help me tackle multiple simultaneous projects and challenges. (This year, this dynamic manifested in a far more literal way than usual in the sense that I started a brand new job - perhaps one might even say a brand new career - at the same time that all the kids were going back to school.) This always goes very well for many weeks, but by November energy wanes and enough complications have arisen to gum up the works of the machine, which slowly begins to decay, resulting in performance decline leading to mood and morale decline, all of which very quickly turns into a self-reinforcing feedback loop. Couple that with the fact that by now I have typically stopped hanging around outside (and thus have drastically reduced critically needed physical activity) about two months ago.
It all catches up. I’m there now. I’m feeling quite battered.
But it’s all right. Maybe as I approach middle age I’m just finally getting used to the stomach-churning drops that come along with this cyclical roller coaster ride. Whatever the case, I think I can at least try to fall back on that which, again, we are all called to do, and let whatever failures and shortcomings I’m stuck with be as they may.
When I look back on the year that’s been, I see a lot of losses, some of which arrived by way of big bad surprises and others that came on slow until reaching critical mass (only after which point the inevitability becoming clear). It’s been a really hard year for me. It’s been filled with far more uncertainty than I would ever voluntarily subject myself to and has required levels of patience and tolerance and forgiveness for which I might not previously have considered myself to have the capacity. I’m not a very patient or tolerant person and I generally have zero patience or tolerance for uncertainty - but I muddled through, and it was good.
For the first time in many years, I found the faith I’ve long professed profoundly tested; specifically, my willingness and ability to actually rely on faith in moments of greatest difficulty. And I actually did it, and it was real. I witnessed directly the power of prayer, my own and more importantly those around me, those who care for me not just materially but cosmically as well. I discovered - mostly totally against my will - what it is that I have, what I can survive or weather, what I can handle, who my allies are, and what the path ahead is starting to look like.
It was a really hard year for me - as I’m sure it was for many. But it’s also a year filled with more triumph and joy than I can stack up from any other year I can recall. It was a banner year in my life, a turning point; they’ve happened several times before, but this is the first time I’ve known about it in real time, that I’ve ever had any sort of handle on it.
I don’t mean to be self-congratulatory because I don’t really feel self-congratulatory. As I said, I’m a bit of a hot November mess, tired and battered and off my game. My brain feels fried. I’m plagued by low-level but persistent nervousness about 2022, because I strongly suspect we’ve got more fresh horrors in store before we leave these haunted woods together some bright shining day.
But I won’t say I’m lacking in hope. Underneath my battered surface lies a newly battle-hardened and well-seasoned spirit, and though I’m well aware - as should we all be - that it isn’t all going to be fun, I’m feeling ready and equipped to live out the great adventures no doubt ahead, just a few bends around the way.