From the archive: On seasons and our season of life

There is magic in every season

Photograph by Nadia Gerassimenko

Dear hopeful reader, today I turned 35. I usually experience complicated feelings regarding my birthday. It also won’t hit me until a few months later.

But I’m opening up more to celebrating life’s little winnings and being even more grateful to be alive and surrounded by care and love. Today feels like is a beautiful day full of hope, blessings, and happiness. And I wish you all that too!

I have a lot of writings brewing—albeit at a snail’s pace—for Substack, but in the meantime, I wanted to reshare last year’s apropos essay on literal and metaphorical seasons.

Thank you so much for your time and support. I’ll occasionally share older publications to reintroduce my work, some of which may have new insight or perspectives added. I kept this essay intact however. Yours hopefully, Nadia

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Dear hopeful reader,

My dear departed grandmother used to say there is no bad weather in nature. She was quoting wise words from “Песенка о погоде” (“Song about the weather”), a song featured in the classic Soviet film Служебный роман (Office Romance) by Эльдар Рязанов (Eldar Ryazanov). He wrote the lyrics for the poetic song as well.

We had often sung it together. And together we weathered any rain or snow. All we had to do was dress accordingly, and anticipate any surprises. With her by my side, I felt stronger, braver, wiser even. She was a lifeline to hopefulness, optimism, and positivity to me, to many.

I understand the words more clearly, listening to the song today. I become a puddle of tears with how much they get to the core of everything: the meaning of life and love; the impermanence of seasons including our inner seasons and our season of life; the fleetingness and value of all that is natural and beautiful; the importance of truth, wisdom, and gratitude; the compassion for and acceptance of all the stages of life no matter how ugly.

Altogether, I think the song was meant for us to realize how important it is to be with our beloveds, to love them with empathy and unconditionality, to understand where they’re coming from, to forgive easily and forget even faster.

It was meant for us to stop rushing and appreciate the meaning and beauty of little but precious things and moments. It was meant for us to see the beautiful even in the ugly, whether it’s erratic weather, a challenging difficulty, or aging—something many of us fear.

It was meant for us to accept that everything comes to an end—the bad as well as the good—and for us to appreciate what we have while we’re still here. To make peace with someone’s passing, including ours someday.

These words in particular move me deeply:

У природы нет плохой погоды,
ход времен нельзя остановить.
Осень жизни, как и осень года,
надо, не скорбя, благословить.

Or translated to the best of my ability:

There is no bad weather in nature,
passage of time cannot be stopped.
Autumn of life and of the year
must be blessed without grieving.

The entire song is abundant in truths and insights that endure, whether we accept them or not, now or later or never.

I have trouble accepting the passing of loved ones. My grandmother’s passing was particularly difficult and existential, especially when I wasn’t able to properly say goodbye to her. The lack of closure weighs on me from time to time. But I think that’s such a human thing too—to not accept. And maybe it’s warranted.

It’s how we mourn, how we remember. And we must not forget our beloveds, the legacy they leave behind, the wisdom they impart, the qualities of theirs that stay in us. And we must go on for them—they would want us to—and those who remain.

We let those who passed rest in peace but still live on in our memories and hearts. Maybe that’s a fair balance between nonacceptance and acceptance. Time passes, it can’t be paused, even in grieving. We must live the time we were given while honoring our departed. We must live that time as gratefully and gracefully as possible.

I have had trouble accepting the many erratic and changing seasons of my body, too. How elusive energy is for me most of the time, how my heart races a marathon sometimes, how I feel I could be in a lava but it’s not that hot one day, how I ache everywhere almost always but in my dreams.

I’m not sure if I accepted and blessed my chronic pain with gratefulness or if I would ever accept and bless it. That’s something I don’t particularly agree with when it comes to the song’s wisdom. Maybe I don’t need to accept every wisdom I come across. And my nonacceptance could rather be a wisdom of sorts.

Because my nonacceptance, in this case, drives me to seek answers throughout my healing journey. My nonacceptance fuels me to keep going, to not give up. No matter how many times I hit obstacles, dilemmas, culs de sac, detours, and even maholes, I refuse to accept there’s no way out or in or through.

I must say it’s been years’ worth of cultivating persistence, confidence, and strength of will. So if one wonders if I had it all along, I didn’t. But it’s achievable, and always a work in progress. As is wellness too. Even if you’re well, you still need to nurture yourself. Treat your body like there’s never going to be another vessel for your soul.

My grandmother loved and saw magic in every season. Fiercely and fearlessly she braved every storm outside and in her life, to the end. Admirably, whenever she met someone for the first time, she would greet them with a clean slate. She saw beauty in everyone and was curious about their life story.

Instinctively she recognized the changing weather patterns in any person’s seasons. She gave them grace and treated them with kindness, as, I imagine, she understood they were going through something at that particular moment. She knew where they were coming from, without judgment.

Her life season had ended last year, and her absence is felt every day, some days being harder than others—especially when I want to celebrate something or I’m reminded of her or I could use some words of encouragement. I know what she would say and do, but it’s not the same without her.

All I can do is remember her, pray for her peace, and live life with dignity. All I can do is be as good as her, as my parents, as my husband, as my friends. All I can do is exercise the qualities they inspire and instill in me during critical moments, not just when there’s peace in my heart and in my home.

Unlike my grandmother, I have had complicated feelings with seasons, specifically autumn when I was born. It had often made me feel melancholy. When I would be sick frequently during the season I subconsciously connected the sadness to sickness and vice versa. But lately, I’ve been trying to find the beauty in each month, and something beautiful in each day.

Like winter in February can be dreary and stripped of color and aliveness. But there are a few days in February when I can feel the wind of change, and it whooshes with warmth that tells me spring is imminent. September is an in-between of summer and autumn, when it feels like we’re meant to decelerate, reflect more, say our farewells to whatever it is that binds us. In September I can also catch a sighting of a tiny—and sometimes large—praying mantis, and it makes the whole month. I now look forward to seeing it every year.

Every day has something beautiful to offer when we pay attention to our surroundings, when we lead a life with gratitude. Yesterday I survived a healing crisis, today I’m grateful I’m alive and my body is working to bring me back to homeostasis. Another day I got discouraged by my ailments, but then I thought how lucky I am to be loved and supported by my parents, my husband, my friends, and my doctor who all wish and want me to be well. And another day I saw two vultures on someone’s roof for the very first time, and it was the most awe-inspiring sight since living in New Jersey for the last ten years.

Last week I said goodbye to one season of me and greeted a new one. I don’t know where I could have been at this point in my life if I were well. Would I have had children, a career? Would I have been with the same partner? Would I have moved to NJ? Would I have been someone else rather than a writer, an editor? Would I have had the same mindset, the same heart outpours, the same values? I don’t know.

All I know is, I’ve made progress in my life journey, as slow as it may seem. Whatever trajectory I was aiming for, I’m where I’m meant to be and getting there, slowly but surely. I’ve become stronger and more resilient, at least enough mentally to get me there physically. I’m enclosed by so much love near and far. And I am who I am because of my circumstances and in spite of them.

And because I think of each season as a new beginning, this new season of my life is an opportunity for me to start fresh. And I take with me what guides me and leave behind what no longer serves me. And I begin anew with even more gratitude, humility, and grace.

I’m again reminded of the song. The first stanza goes:

У природы нет плохой погоды,
Каждая погода — благодать!
Дождь ли, снег — любое время года
Надо благодарно принимать.

Or in English:

There is no bad weather in nature,
Every weather is a blessing!
Rain, snow or any time of the year
Must be gratefully accepted.

I don’t have enough wisdom and peace in me to accept everything about our literal and metaphorical seasons, but I gratefully receive the lessons taken from them, the beauty and values shown as an outcome. Maybe that’s enough for now.

I’m also again reminded of my grandmother. My mama said when she was alive she would also often state that there is no bad weather, just bad clothing. And when anyone was at the brink of giving up she would tell them “не опускать руки,” which literally means to not keep your hands down. An equivalent expression in English would be to not lose heart.

When my mama and I spoke about that, we decided it would be our life mantra from now on. It could be one of the ways we honor and remember someone who will always mean so much to us, who was so fierce and fearless. And maybe someday we’ll finally learn to see and appreciate the magic in every season like she had.

Yours hopefully,

Nadia

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