Every year it snuck up on me....Autumn I mean....

I LOVE summer, I crave the heat, the long hazy evenings, the  piercing bright morning light that fragments the curtains and the sense of possibility in the air. Over Summer I'm normally quite busy flitting around from place to place, weekends away camping, festivals, meeting friends, packing and unpacking my little caravan. From June to August, I was always cramming things in, racing to the next adventure before the current one even finished.

This year it's different. Molly my old dog has been struggling of late, she is not able to be hoisted into cars nor campervans right now. We've been in and out of the vet alot together. The new house is keeping me busy (and stressed!) and I am focusing on working as much as I can this month too (there's an obvious link between them all!). And so I find myself at home, feeling somewhat tied.

It's like a tug of war going on inside me. Part of me wishes I was still footloose and fancy-free and the other, accepts my responsibilities and the grounding that comes with that. Being at home slows me down, as do my walks with Molly (they are more potters and sniffing stops now) I have the time to notice what's going on around me. I am also making a very conscious effort to be aware. To take note of the small daily changes in nature. This is due to circumstance, but also down to the type of reflection I now give myself time for as an outcome of my work with Slow & Seasonal (my 12 month wellbeing programme for women). It has not only changed the women who participate in this programme, but also me. (ps. if you'd like to learn more about it please do get in touch, I'd love to chat with you. It's life changing and I don't say this lightly).

All around us, the rapid growth and deepest green has slowed down and is fading. The foliage is turning more golden and pale. As some of the wild flowers and plants on my daily ambles are curling inwards and return to the earth, new intrepids are pushing forth to take their place. The sycamore trees down the lane opposite my house are heavy with helicopter seeds, elderflower petals scatter the path and berries are beginning to take shape. Deep purple thistles stand regally in the hedgerows and the wild orchids in Sandy Lane are still just about holding on.

For perhaps the first time, I really see. I am aware of the pace of change and though Autumn is still a while away, it's as though she's whispering ever so softly, so as not to startle us when she inevitably unfurls. Can you hear her yet?  I know this year autumn will not sneak up on me as in years past, because I am listening. Though I am not ready for her arrival just yet, she's there in my peripheral. It feels comforting and calming to know this. For this year I won't be blindsided and exclaim "I'm not ready! Sure I'm still waiting for Summer, it snuck up on me!"

Being aware of and present in the seasons has led me to try to sychronise my work to them and to the lunar cycles also. I've been doing the former for a few years now but the latter (moon cycle tracking) is quite new to me. More on the moon another time though. Living in alignment with the wheel of the year feels natural, normal and comes easily. It makes perfect sense to be honest! It doesn't mean I always stick to it though. My age-old "must work harder / must keep up and do better, have to maximise my time" often nags at me and if I'm not aware I fall back into old patterns of pushing myself relentlessly. It's a practice. In case you need it, consider this your invitation to gentle attune to the slow and steady churn and turn of late summer and see where this leads you.

le grá,

Maeve x

Ps. If you enjoyed this blog, you might also enjoy my previous reflections on the healing power of nature - check it out here