What We Carry Into Autumn

At the equinox, the light changes, but summer does not disappear overnight. There is still warmth in the afternoon, fruit ripening on the trees, and the work of gathering what has grown. The evenings arrive a little earlier. We notice the shift before we can quite say that a new season has begun.

This is possibly my favourite season, i feel like change is very palpable at this time of the year and is dynamic too. Transitions seems to be the theme for many of us! We do not move neatly from one season to another. Something can still be flourishing while something else is coming to an end. We may feel grateful for what the summer brought and, at the same time, aware of what is missing.

The Five Elements approach shows us the movement from Fire through Earth toward Metal offers a way to pay attention to this change. Fire carries the outward expression of summer: activity, connection, warmth, and the energy of being in the world. Earth gives us time to gather and digest what we have experienced. As autumn approaches, Metal draws our attention to what is essential, and to the feelings that can arise when something valued is no longer here in the same way.

These are not boxes we need to fit ourselves into. They are ways of observing a process already taking place around us and within us.

The grief that comes with change

Autumn is often associated with letting go. It is an image we can understand easily when we look at the trees. But human experience asks for more care than that phrase sometimes allows.

Grief may be connected to the death of someone we love. It may also appear when a relationship changes, a familiar role ends, a place no longer feels like home, or the future we imagined begins to look different. Sometimes we are grieving a version of ourselves: the energy we once had, a capacity that has changed, or a period of life we did not know we were leaving.

There may be no single event to point to. We simply notice that something matters and that its absence, or its changing shape, has an effect on us. For myself and most of the women I work with, our bodies, energy and priorities are shifting on a daily basis, “mini-griefs” realisations come and go.

Making space without asking grief to leave

To work with grief does not mean finding a way to release it on command. Some losses remain part of our lives. Our relationship with them may change, but they do not need to disappear for life to continue.

In somatic practice, we begin with what is present and what is manageable to notice. Grief might be felt as a heaviness in the chest, a restless need to keep moving, a tiredness that sleep does not quite fix. It might show up in breath, posture, or attention. At other times, there may be little we can feel at all. Each of these experiences deserves curiosity rather than a demand to change.

We can also notice what supports us while we are with something difficult: the ground beneath our feet, the familiarity of a room, a conversation in which we do not have to explain everything, or a walk that gives our attention somewhere gentle to land. Moving between grief and these points of support is part of how we make space for experience without becoming overwhelmed by it.

Some days that space may be large enough for reflection. On others, taking care of an ordinary task and resting afterwards may be enough.

A practice that’s supports change

This is a simple awareness practice that i often use in sessions, If it feels useful, take a few minutes to observe this transition in your own way. Begin with something you can see: the quality of light, a plant changing, the time the evening arrives. Let your attention settle on what is here now.

Then notice the support beneath your feet or your seat. You do not need to alter your breathing or search for a particular feeling. You might simply ask:

What am I carrying into this season?

What deserves to be remembered, or tended, rather than hurried away?

There is no need to produce an answer. You may notice a sensation, a memory, a thought, or nothing in particular. If the inquiry feels too much, return your attention to the room around you. The practice includes knowing when to pause.

The equinox gives us a moment to observe how change actually happens: gradually, unevenly, with one season still present inside the next. There are things we may be ready to put down, and others we are learning how to carry. I like to think that the purpose of autumn is to give ourselves enough time and attention to tell the difference.

On another note I´m excited with offering weekly sessions on Somatic Experiencing®, a modality of therapy that helps us notice how change is felt in the body: the pull toward something new, the uncertainty, and the wish to hold on to what is familiar. Making space for these responses, at a pace we can manage, can bring more flexibility and choice to a time of transition. If you’d like support with a change you’re moving through, you’re welcome to book an individual session.