September and The Quiet Shift of Seasons

There’s something about this time of year that always makes me pause.
The late summer light stretches long across the evenings, but there’s a different crispness in the mornings now. Fruits hang heavy on the trees, in fact some of the  branches on our pear have actually collapsed! My drive to the studio through the villages and countryside is shifting from lush and verdant shades to warmer russet tones. School uniforms across the country are neatly folded up, waiting and ready to be pressed back into service.

September has always felt like a new year in disguise. Even more than January, it brings a sense of fresh notebooks, sharpened pencils, and new beginnings. But it also carries with it a small ache - the end of the freedom of summer, the rush of new timetables, and the reminder that time moves relentlessly forward.

There’s no denying it: the wheel is turning. Autumn is on its way.

And with that turning comes a choice. I can cling desperately to what has passed, wishing summer would linger, lamenting the darker days ahead. Or I can recognise that every season has its own rhythm, its own lessons, its own gifts. Change isn’t something to fight against; it’s something to embrace.

 

Change Is the Only Constant

We know this, of course. Intellectually, we all understand that life doesn’t stand still. The seasons turn, years pass, we grow older. Work shifts. Families change. Even the routines we thought were fixed forever find new forms.

And yet, knowing it doesn’t always make it easy. Change can unsettle us. It can stir up resistance, sadness, even fear. We want things to stay as they are, because that feels safe and familiar.

But the truth is - “shit happens”. Change will come whether we want it or not. But the real wisdom lies in the second half of that saying - it’s how we deal with it that makes the difference.

When storms roll in, whether literal autumn rains or personal upheavals, we have a choice. We can resist, clinging desperately to how things “should” have been. Or we can accept that change is part of the landscape, and learn to walk through it with a steadier heart.

The Wisdom of Letting Go

This is where I’ve found myself leaning on some of the Stoic wisdom that has carried me through the past year.

Marcus Aurelius reminds us: “You have power over your mind - not outside events. Realise this, and you will find strength.”

I can’t control the shifting of the seasons. I can’t control the wider currents of life. But I can guide my response. I can soften into the darker evenings instead of fighting them. I can welcome autumn’s slower pace instead of mourning summer’s rush of light.

It doesn’t mean I won’t feel wistful, or miss what has passed. But it does mean I can let go of demanding the impossible. I can stop railing against the inevitable and instead open my hands to receive what comes next.

Seneca adds another layer with his reminder: “We suffer more in imagination than in reality.”

How many times have I wasted worrying about what might go wrong? Fretting that the coming months will be difficult, that I won’t manage to juggle all the demands, that the turning of the year means things will get harder, heavier, less joyful?

And yet, when I come back to reality, the story is rarely so bleak. Autumn carries beauty as well as challenge. There are crisp walks, crackling leaves, comforting meals, and time to create. The darker evenings lend themselves to sewing, reading, writing - things that often fall by the wayside in the bright distractions of summer.

The fears live in imagination. Reality, more often than not, is much gentler.

Then there’s Epictetus: “Don’t demand that things happen as you wish, but wish that they happen as they do, and you will go on well.”

This has become something of a mantra for me. Acceptance isn’t about giving up. It’s about facing reality as it is, not as we wish it to be. And strangely, that act of surrender often brings freedom. It doesn’t mean I stop dreaming or hoping or striving. It means I stop insisting that life match the script in my head.

When autumn arrives, I can waste energy demanding that it be summer still. Or I can wish for autumn to be what it is: golden light, cooling air, a season of harvest and preparation.

When plans change, I can demand that they stay as I imagined. Or I can wish for what unfolds instead, trusting that it may hold its own surprises and opportunities.

The moment I stop resisting reality, life feels lighter.

The Circle of the Seasons

What I love most about this time of year is the way it mirrors the cycles within our own lives.

• Spring is beginnings — fresh energy, growth, possibility.
  

• Summer is fullness — long days, abundance, joy.
  

• Autumn is transition — harvest, reflection, preparation.
  

• Winter is rest — stillness, gathering strength, turning inward.
  

We need all of them. Each season carries something we can’t live without. If it were summer all year round, we’d never rest. If it were winter forever, we’d never grow.

By watching the seasons, we learn to see change not as disruption, but as rhythm. Not as something to fear, but as something to honour.

Learning From Last Year

This past year has given me plenty of practice. My world collapsed along with the old business and I had no control over what was happening, or any clue about what might come next. There were plenty of times when things didn’t go as planned. I found myself worrying and tremendously anxious about the future, spinning stories in my head that never quite came to pass. Days when the ground seemed to shift beneath me.

And yet, each time, these lessons brought me back:

• Strength lies not in control, but in guiding my mind.

• The worst pain often comes from my imagination, not reality.

• Peace comes from wishing things as they are, not as I demand them to be.
  
  

I won’t pretend I always get it right. I still resist, I still worry, I still grumble when things don't go according to my plans. But I’m learning to loosen my grip. To trust that the wheel will turn, and that each season brings what I need - even if it’s not what I thought I wanted.

 

Embracing September

So here we are, in September once again. Another year older and what feels like a whole lifetime wiser. I am working on embracing this time of ripening and releasing, of beginnings and endings, of stepping forward even as we let go. There are plenty of things I wish were different, but I am coming to accept that even though we may not see it straight away, things are as they are supposed to be.

So instead, I’m choosing to meet autumn and the Turn of the Wheel with open hands. To see its gifts, not just its losses. To let it teach me how to embrace change.

Because the truth is, change isn’t just inevitable - it’s actually essential. Without it, there would be no growth, no learning, no renewal. The wheel must turn in order for us to be able to do this. To me September always feels like a threshold - with one foot in summer, one in autumn. A moment to pause, reflect, and decide how we will walk forward.

We can cling to what has passed, resisting the turn of the wheel. Or we can accept it, even welcome it, trusting that every season brings its own wisdom.

I know which path feels lighter.

So here’s to September. To change. To the turning of the wheel. To remembering that while shit does indeed happen, it is how we meet it -  how we walk forward with open eyes and steady hearts -  that truly makes the difference.

Go Gently

Jules