As a child, I dreaded autumn with such vehemence that I thought with sheer determined hatred I could (somehow) shift the earth’s axis to reclaim the lost rays of summer sun. As I kicked dead leaves on my way home from school, my hatred would lead to submissive acceptance of the months to come. Eventually I would acclimate to the dark, the cold, the solitude. Time passed so slowly.
While it is cliché to assert the passage of time tends to speed with age, I do find myself more occupied with other activities as an adult. I find less time to get hung up on (or notice) the changing seasons. With that said, there are a few things that I can appreciate about the colder months. Perhaps most shocking to me is the fact that I am thankful for the cold’s ability to persuade the hideous people around me to cover themselves with thicker layers.
I will not sugarcoat this. We have become a country of excess – and it is exhausting. Through my somewhat limited experiences I’ve surmised that we tend to stand alone. Other wealthy states and nations have developed self control over their incessant need for over consumption. Yet, for some reason, we can’t help ourselves. When did self control start tasting so bitter? When did we give up, or did we even try? When did our meaningful pursuits become nothing more than disposable pleasures? The seemingly natural order of our greed knows no bounds.
Congratulations. You disgust me.