What can autumn teach us about slowing down?
As the season changes around us, perhaps it's time to notice whether we are changing with it…
September, the month when the children go back into a new year of education. The last remnants of summer are still present, and although the temperature has dropped, we're still dressing in t-shirts and shorts, ignoring the chill in the air as the sun sets a little earlier than we'd like.
We're not quite ready for hot chocolates and chunky knits yet.
And yet, over the last few days of August, I've noticed the supermarkets have already started stocking their Halloween and Christmas items. Already!
Almost forcefully trying to prepare us for the season ahead before we've even finished enjoying the one we're in.
1 September marks the beginning of meteorological autumn, although traditionally we associate the changing of the season with the autumn equinox later this month (23 September).
But it got me thinking... What does autumn actually inspire in us?
Autumn means different things to different people
For some, autumn brings a sense of dread. Shorter days, less daylight, colder temperatures, and the knowledge that winter is coming.
For others, there's something comforting about it. Bunkering down, cooking and baking with foods that have come from the harvest, and making your home feel cosy, with more time to snuggle on the sofa with the family.
Or perhaps you’re someone who likes taking the opportunity to study something new or work towards something that can be launched or developed early into next year.
Although autumn isn’t my favourite season, I personally love the cosiness that it brings. I love the colours in nature that we so often forget to stop and look at. The changing leaves, the different shades appearing almost overnight, the feeling that perhaps we're being given permission to slow down a little.
To enjoy more rest time in the evenings. To pause, reflect and prepare. Not necessarily for the next thing we have to do... But simply to be.
But how often do we actually notice?
This is where I find myself questioning something. How many of us actually notice these changes in the world around us anymore? We live in a world where everything is constant. There is always another email, another phone call, another notification, another appointment, another deadline, another thing to achieve, another season to prepare for…
We're encouraged to keep going, regardless of what is happening around us, or indeed, what is happening inside us.
And it makes me wonder: When did we stop aligning with nature?
When did we decide that we should simply carry on as normal, regardless of the season we're in?
Nature doesn't work that way. The trees don't continue holding onto their leaves because they're worried about what people will think when they fall; the fields don't try to continue to produce endlessly; nature doesn't apologise for needing to rest.
It changes. It releases. It slows down.
And in time, eventually, it begins again.
Perhaps we have forgotten that we have seasons too
This is the part that interests me most. Because as humans, we also experience seasons.
There are seasons of growth, seasons of change, seasons where everything feels exciting and new, and there are seasons of uncertainty.
Loss, grief, transition, burnout. And times when we don't quite know what comes next.
Yet how often do we expect ourselves to carry on as though nothing has changed?
We can experience a loss, a relationship ending, a change in our family, a change in our work, a fertility journey, becoming a parent, children leaving home, redundancy, retirement, illness, menopause or simply reaching a point where we realise that the life we have been living no longer feels quite right...
And still, even through those big life transitions, we expect ourselves to keep functioning at exactly the same pace.
Perhaps that's one of the reasons life can sometimes feel so overwhelming. We're trying to live at the same speed while everything around us, and within us, is asking us to change.
What if slowing down isn't the same as stopping?
I think sometimes we can be frightened of slowing down, of a natural pause. Because when we're busy, we don't necessarily have to think about what's underneath the busy-ness.
We can keep moving, keep achieving, keep organising and keep looking ahead.
But when we slow down, we might actually notice how we're feeling - we might notice the sadness we've been pushing aside; the anxiety we've become accustomed to; the grief we haven't had time to process; the exhaustion we've been calling "just a busy period". Or perhaps simply the quiet realisation that something needs to change. And maybe that's uncomfortable.
But perhaps noticing it is where change begins…
What might autumn invite you to notice?
So as September begins, perhaps rather than immediately looking ahead to everything that needs to happen before Christmas, we could allow ourselves to pause or slow down for a moment.
To notice.
To ask ourselves:
How am I, really?
What am I carrying that I don't need to carry into the next season?
What have I been putting off because life has been too busy?
What might I need more of over the coming months?
What might I need to let go of?
And where in my life am I perhaps ready for something to change?
These don't have to be questions that you answer immediately.
Perhaps simply contemplating them is enough.
Reconnecting with the natural rhythm
Maybe re-aligning with nature doesn't mean changing our entire lives. Perhaps it starts with something much smaller.
Taking a walk and actually noticing the sights, smells and noises around you; putting your phone down for a while (or turning it off); watching the sunset; making time for something or someone that brings you comfort; allowing yourself an evening without being productive; resting without feeling guilty; taking a moment to acknowledge something you've been carrying; or talking to someone when things have become difficult to manage alone.
Because perhaps nature is constantly reminding us of something we have forgotten:
We are not designed to remain the same all year round. We change, we grow, we lose things, we begin again. And we have periods of activity and periods of rest.
And all of those seasons are part of being human.
So, what season are you in?
Perhaps this autumn, instead of asking yourself "What's next?", try asking: "What do I need right now?"
You don't have to have the answer. And you don't have to navigate every transition, loss or change on your own.
Sometimes having a safe space to slow down, talk honestly about what's happening and make sense of what you're feeling can help us understand what we need next.
Because sometimes we don't need to push ourselves towards the next season. Sometimes we simply need to pause long enough to recognise the season we're already in.
What does autumn represent for you?