With the passing of Monday’s equinox, autumn has arrived, and my commute home from work is getting dimmer. Similarly, there are very real consolations we lose sight of when we dramatize our daily frustrations. Who am I to carry on complaining, turning to no one but myself in my dissatisfaction? So with gratitude and an eye for grace, I am preparing myself for fall, winter and Advent. As Ezra, or perhaps like a train clanking over a bridge, I too will have to rise in my own small wretchedness.