In years past, I counted down to fall. By early October, I’d outgrown the heat (or realistically, had just been worn down by working from home without AC during the 2-3 week late summer San Diego heat wave). I loved the crisper mornings, the chill in the evening, the fall flavors abundant on every grocery shelf (I have strong opinions on the best pumpkin items) and the chance to break out cozy sweaters. And, if I had the opportunity to travel, my entire photo app was filled to the brim with photos of changing trees.
After Labor Day weekend here, the gradual shift to fall began. The sun is rising a little bit later into my morning walks, the mornings and evenings call for a light jacket, drizzly days are closer and closer together and the leaves have started their annual change. One tree by one tree, my commute is slowly becoming surrounded by reds, yellows and oranges rather than lush greens. Fall isn’t in full effect yet…but you can tell it’s around the corner.
Rather than marveling at the trees on my drive and filling my Trader Joe’s cart to the brim with all things pumpkin spice, I’ve fought the change. I’ve lamented at the trees, have held on to summer flavors and won’t let go of shorts and T-shirts. My body is filled with a sense of pause, of dread, of hesitation. I don’t want summer to end. And, I certainly don’t want my first real Midwest winter to come.
Summer has been abundant here. People are joyous. There’s endless things to do (almost too many options). Grillouts, festivals, kayaking, sipping on coffee or beer on an outdoor patio - it all felt luxurious. And, between house hunting, a busy work schedule and moving in, I only got to experience a fraction of it. There’s still so much I want to do and try. It’s slipping away when I wasn’t quite ready to say hello to something new.
And, that something new signals the imminent future of snowy days, bone-chilling wind and grey, sunless skies. If I hated the meager rainy winter in San Diego (if you can even call winter - that designation feels generous), how will I handle nearly six months of bitter cold days?
As so many of us can be, I’m stuck in a spot of regret over opportunities missed and in a state of anxiety about the unknown of the current winter. And, while I straddle between the past and the future, I’m naturally missing the present. I’m missing the awe-filled wonder at each changing leaf, the joy of my first pumpkin spice latte, the chance to not drip sweat the moment I step outside.
As I become aware of moments where my feet feel dug into the ground, unwilling to let summer go and embrace the state of fall, I am trying to practice mindfulness, bringing myself to the present. As I feel myself getting anxious about the unknowns of winter, I too attempt to bring myself back to the present moment…and try to challenge my thoughts. I don’t know if I will hate winter. I’m merely projecting. I have been craving a chance to slow down, to learn new hobbies. Winter could be that time. While “I don’t know what I don’t know” initially feels scary to me, I’m trying to approach it with more excitement. Good things can come when you least expect them.
I think I’ll forever be a summer girlie who thrives in the heat and sunshine, but I’m trying to slowly shed my palpable hesitation and embrace fall for what it is - a transition into my new normal, a time to observe a natural shift, and of course, a time to nosh on pumpkins and apples while curling up with a good book.
