October 2026 (Vol. XXXIX, No. 9)

AUTUMN AWAKENING
Reflections on a "yes" mindset / remembering the magic

i.
Dear Friends ~ The chill of autumn rouses something in me that begins to doze in the comfortable consistency of late summer warmth. The sun sets sooner and the air cools considerably. Each nerve on my arm becomes acutely aware of the change; chill bumps peak up as if to say, "What's this now?", "Oh, Hello, Old Friend!", "I am alive, conscious and present on this spinning Earth for the start of another season".

For me, each quarter brings a giddy excitement. The magic and merriment of the altering autumn colors, of the first snowfall, snowdrop and crocus buds, or butterflies, or when summer trees begin to mimic those orange butterfly wings once more. Round and round. They are predictable, but they are not everyday. They are consistent, but also passing.

ii.
I received a message from a friend the other day seeking reminders for gratitude and joy amidst the tedium of tiresome tasks.

My first instinct was to encourage; to don a Brother Lawrence habit and share a mostly imagined practice of a continual conversation with the "Lord of all pots and pans and things". What a beautiful way to live, with the choice to infuse any instance with awe and love.

My second instinct was to counter; to stand in the corner of discontentment and cheer on whatever part of her might be bucking. The overwhelm. The loneliness. The inequality. The unprioritized passions. Frustration, exhaustion, and boredom do not erase gratitude or joy; all can exist at once.

iii.
I knew someone who stopped using the word 'but'. Everything was 'and'. It cracked open the hard pericarp of my thinking, revealing a pithy inner chamber. It substituted phrases like, "It was hard, but I did it," with an empowering reminder that one does not preclude the other. "It was hard. I did it." A subtle but meaningful change. Not in spite of the difficulty, which certainty also feels true, but alongside the difficulty; with the difficulty.

Early Autumn reminds me of this "and" mentality. I wake up and put on a sweater only to sweat and remove it moments later. I watch the young growth from my late summer succession planting while pulling old tomato stalks to mark the end of their time. We move about during the day like it is still summer, only to be ushered back inside by an earlier sunset into the more reflective inner work of the incoming season. Each day holds room for it all, just as you and I are a manifestation of the myriad.

We are grateful.
We are overwhelmed.
We are joyful.
We carry deep sorrow.
We are changing.
We are eternal.
We are dying.
We are alive.

~Katie