Katie Steedly’s first-person piece [The Unspeakable Gift] is a riveting retelling of her participation in a National Institutes of Health study that aided her quest to come to grips with her life of living with a rare genetic disorder. Her writing is superb.
In recognition of receiving the Dateline Award for the Washingtonian Magazine essay, The Unspeakable Gift.
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Living the Comma #48
BEGINNING #5. Fall. Starting. Celery. Ending.
The Lesson of Falling Leaves
I love fall. I love the shifting light and wearing sweatshirts. I love pumpkin flavored everything and first days of schools. I love flocks migrating and the harvest moon. I love apple cider and jumping in leaf piles. I love leaves changing and persimmon pudding. I love first frosts and charred marshmallows. I love the crunch of leaves on concrete floors and sports.
Fall is a beginning like letting go is a beginning.
the leaves believe
such letting go is love— from Lucille Clifton’s “Lesson of the Falling Leaves”
I agree with the leaves, too. The deciduous journey towards love is a beginning. As we let go, show love, have faith, know grace, we are love. The impermanence of falling leaves reminds me of the freedom of truth, weightlessness of joy, perfection of time, beauty of flaws, clarity of loss, strength of surrender, and courage of not yet and why. I relearn the lessons of the falling leaves, every year. The days between fall’s miracle wear my spirit down. Lost. I forget all about truth, joy, perfection, beauty, clarity, strength, and courage. Found. I remember to pay attention to falling leaves.
Living the Comma
Living the Comma is a writers community connecting people with a creative process, a writing practice, and a spiritual path.
We have a theme that ties the weekly Living the Comma newsletter with monthly meetings. Each theme will be explored in each newsletter and meeting. A weekly writing activity will be drawn from the monthly theme. Weekly writing activities responses can be shared in comments section to each newsletter and in monthly meetings. My hope is that conversation develops around each writing exercise.
Living the Comma Dates and Themes: September 1 — Beginning. October 13 — Imagination. November 3 — Gratitude. December 1 — Joy. January 5 — Wintering. February 2 — Love. March 2 — Grace. April 6 — Breath. May 4 — Finishing.
Meetings occur at Virginia Highland Church from 7:00 to 8:30 EST.
OUR NEXT FACE-TO-FACE MEETING — OCTOBER 13, 2026. Join via our VIRTUAL MEETING LINK if you cannot be present in person.
The Living the Comma newsletter is published weekly.
Starting
By indirections find directions out. — William Shakespeare
“Starting,” the third chapter in Sue Bender’s Everyday Sacred: A Woman’s Journey Home, is about figuring it out. Figuring it out means doing the next right thing. Figuring it outmeans starting before I am ready. Figuring it out means considering why. Figuring it outmeans doing it, whatever it is that must be done. Figuring it out means doing it in the face of doubt and fear and fatigue. That is the beauty of figuring it out. That is the beauty of starting.
100 Drawings Project
Bender tells the story of her friend Gale who was teaching a graduate art class, The 100 Drawings Project, and tasked her students, “with finding and drawing 100 times, one simple, familiar object portable enough to bring to class each time. It had to be neutral in content, not religious, not a family heirloom, nor any object that held a sentimental attachment.” Gayle student’s challenged her to complete the assignment alongside them. She chose a white enamel bowl and began drawing and taking pictures. When the process started, Gayle had no idea what lessons she would learn. She had no idea what insight she would gain or skills she would gain. She just simply started on the path to 100 drawings.
Relationships
Bender reflects,
“Making 100 drawings of the same object forced Gale to find new techniques, materials, and ways to work. The goal her was to take risks and exceed limits. Hopefully, along the way, a personal style would emerge. … What struck me is that if you can take a white enamel household pot and begin seeing it brand new each time, you can do it with anything.”
Bender boils down the project to one thing – relationships. Building our relationship with ourselves and others. Cultivating our capacity to and live with fresh eyes and new perspective. Paying attention to life’s cracks and crevasses and curves and straight aways. Finding awe in every season and our relationship with the natural world.
A Word for Autumn
“This morning I welcomed the chill in the air; this morning I viewed the falling leaves with cheerfulness; and this morning I said to myself, ‘Why, of course, I’ll have celery for lunch.’ ” — A.A. Milne
Deciduous was my Word of the Year a few years ago. I generally chose a Word of the Year, and that year I wanted to think about the beauty of letting go. That year I wanted to celebrate shedding, laying it all down, and a lightness of being that a Balinese healer once told me could be mine.
A.A. Milne’s, “A Word for Autumn” celebrates fall, in it’s own way, too. Milne quips that celery is fall’s fruit. He explains,
“Yet, I can face the winter with calm. I suppose I had forgotten what it was really like … Now I can see other things—crisp and sparkling days, long pleasant evenings, cheery fires. Good work shall be done this winter. Life shall be lived well. The end of the summer is not the end of the world. Here’s to October.”
He continues and reflects, “I see quite clearly that all good things must come to an end. The summer has been splendid, but it has lasted long enough.” There is poetry to lasting long enough. Let me explain. It is the rhyme of beginning and ending. It is the rhythm of falling apart and back together. It is the syncopation of footsteps walking toward and away.
Little Gidding
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from. — from T.S. Eliot’s “Little Gidding,” Three Quartets
Fall can feel like a beginning from where to start. Where, as Eliot explains, our sentences are right and our words are at home. Where common words are not vulgar and formal words are not pedantic. Where the sun and moon perfectly balance the old and new. That is the fabric of fall.
Writing Exercise — The Lesson of the Falling Leaves
Living the Comma Writing Exercises are inspired by the Beyond with Jane Ratcliff, The Isolation Journals with Suleika Jaouad, Letters From Love with Elizabeth Gilbert, the Mondays are Free writing project by Ross Gay and Patrick Rosal, The Clearing by Katherine May, and Writing in the Dark with Jeannine Ouelette communities.
Step 1: 100 Words Project
In the spirit of “Starting,” brainstorm 50 words that make you think of starting. Then, think of 50 words that make you think of fall. Take several deep breaths. Clear your mind. Unclinch your fists and jaw. Find your favorite journal, blanket, cat, and chair. Think all parts of speech. Think past, present, and future. Think I am and not yet. Make two separate word lists.
Step 2: Seeing Things Anew
Write 5 phrases weaving words from the lists. The only constraint is that each phrase must have one word from each list. The phrases can be connected, or not. The phrases can tell a story, or not. The phrases can make sense, or not. The phrases can rhyme, or not. The phrases can ask questions, or not. The phrases can replace lyrics to your favorite song, or not. These phrases can be bumper stickers you could write if you wrote bumper stickers.
Step 3: Stepping Into Story
Choose one of the phrases and tell a story. Use the phrase as a launch pad. Use the phrase as context. Use the phrase as inspiration. Use the phrase as figure and ground. Use the phrase as a start or end point. Create a 500-word story from the phrases.
Step 4: 500 to 250
Read your 500-word story. Read your 500-word story, again. Begin the process of pruning and chiseling your story from 500 words to 250 words. Practice careful attention to every word as you edit.
Step 5: Craft Your Lesson of Falling Leaves
Follow Lucille Clifton’s poetic lead and write about what we learn from falling leaves. Clifton shares a path from falling leaves to god. Continue to shape and mold your 250-word story into your take on beginning and fall. Once you have completed your story, share in the comments below.
Take time to look at the leaves. Right now. With patient urgency. As they begin to change and fall, notice the cooler mornings, breathe in the smell of pumpkin pie, and move sweaters to the front of your drawers. Begin the process of shedding and letting go. Let words rise and flow.
From the heart of the comma,
Katie
Thanks for Living the Comma. OUR NEXT FACE-TO-FACE MEETING IS OCTOBER 13, 2026. Join via our VIRTUAL MEETING LINK if you cannot be present in person. Subscribe to participate and connect with our community.
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About Katie

From Louisville. Live in Atlanta. Curious by nature. Researcher by education. Writer by practice. Grateful heart by desire.
Buy the Book!
The Stage Is On Fire, a memoir about hope and change, reasons for voyaging, and dreams burning down can be purchased on Amazon.
