I live in one of the count­less beau­ti­ful places in the USA.  We have a lovely com­mu­nity with a strong sense of self.  We love our food, our fam­i­lies, and our God.  We are small-town Amer­ica and we do weather right.

Each sea­son is ade­quate in length and inten­sity.  Win­ter is wet, spring is green, sum­mer is hot, and fall is my favorite.  It’s warm, and chilly, and refresh­ing.  It’s green, and gold, and brown, and red.  It’s windy, and rainy, and sunny, and clear.  It’s back to school, and sweaters, and shop­ping, and reality…

Fall wages war on me like no other sea­son. It’s sis­ter spring can be awful, but we’ll deal with that when she comes around next.  Fall makes me stiff, sore, cold, sleepy, anx­ious, and exhausted.  It reminds me to be wise, to relax, and to rest.  It renews my moti­va­tion to avoid excess and make my health a pri­or­ity.  It forces me to be patient with myself and oth­ers by slow­ing my pace and stiff­en­ing my stride.  When fall arrives I have no option but to admit I can­not work at rapid rates.  I must dress warm and be prac­ti­cal.  I need, and deserve, time in the sun.  And, most of all, I can­not afford to ignore my body.

Some­where between New Year’s and Labor Day I for­get about the aches and pains of fall.  I for­get about the four weeks (min­i­mum) it takes to adjust to cold weather.  I for­get about warm days, fol­lowed by 72 hours of freez­ing weather, fol­lowed by rain, fol­lowed by severe-clear, blis­ter­ing cold.  I for­get about nature’s inde­ci­sion and the pain it causes me (some­what akin the pain an inde­ci­sive girl causes her poor suitor).  I for­get about the temp­ta­tion to stay home (and warm) to avoid pain and stiffness.

Point is… I for­get.  I for­get, but I don’t mind.  In fact, it’s best that way.  It’s best because I remem­ber the good stuff.  The things I love about fall.  The beau­ti­ful weather, the chang­ing leaves, and the hol­i­day antic­i­pa­tion.  The guests, good food, and grat­i­tude.  The falling snow, the fire­places, and the family-time.

So, here’s to fibromyal­gia and fall!  Here’s to lov­ing the sea­son that hurts the most!  Here’s to remem­ber­ing the good and for­get­ting bad!  And, for those of you who strug­gle to see the good when you get to hurt­ing, I pray you can fake it ’til you make it.  I pray you can look for the pos­i­tive things and dwell on those.  I promise your pain will be less inhibit­ing when you use your energy to cre­ate an atti­tude of gratitude.

Happy fall fibrofolks!