The in between time is finally making room for autumn. I have this idea to make a film with images of autumn with some beautiful music by Jordi Savall underneath. That’s a big project for me, I cannot yet see the end of that. I am not holding on to it, without letting go at the same time.
Letting go and autumn are so easily connected. The warmth of summer has gone. The leaves are colouring red and brown, the forest smells of passing and the finiteness of things becomes visible. Through the finitude the new beginning shows itself but only if you know how to let go. Letting go starts with experiencing what you are holding on to.
The chestnuts have fallen from the tree. The fruit still in its husk, which bursts open at the fall, of has alredy opened before falling from the tree and making the fruit visible. They lie spread out under the tree, hundreds of them. Some are still closed, they let go too early. There is a time for holding on and a time for letting go. This is the time for letting go. You might ask yourself what is holding on and what is letting go. The husk has protected the fruit throughout the summer, but the fruit has to free itself from it. For the chestnut, the experience can be one of bitter struggle or one of gratitude for the protection during the summer. For the husk the experience of letting go can be one of staying behind as an empty shell or one of freeing the fruit. Holding on tells the story of struggle and empty shells. Letting go tells something about gratitude for providing protection and the offering of freedom, in love.
For the tree, holding on and letting go are simply acts of passing on of life. Every tree is an arbor-vitae.
To honor the letting go you are invited to an autumn dinner (with chestnuts) at the monastery in Breda at 1800. I can host 10 people and I invite you to bring an object that represents “letting go” to you.