Slowing Down

There’s a wooded trail near my home that I return to again and again. Lately I’d been moving quickly, caught in productivity mode, and hadn’t walked there for months. When I finally made it back to the trail, my mind was full—running through to-do lists, tempted to turn on a podcast—but some part of me knew it was time to downshift.

The trees had no opinion about my pace or productivity. They stood steady and rooted, reminding me that growth isn’t about getting from point A to point B but about quietly thickening with experience. As I descended the path towards the stream, my thoughts slowed and my senses opened. I saw the ruffled lichen and spongy fungus, the intricately patterned bark, young ivy creeping up fallen trunks, leaves drifting down from the treetops.

As we move from the high energy of September into the quieting of late autumn, the falling leaves invite us to surrender - to let go of doing and yield to being. I see this natural movement in my therapy practice too: building a family, growing a baby, parenting children, and nurturing relationships all call on us to release. 

Easing up sets the stage for discovery. Like an artist who learns to sketch the shapes of the tree in front of them instead of reproducing the stock images in their mind, we can learn to step out of our habitual stories and begin to see more clearly how things actually are. Bringing this receptive, wondering quality to ourselves and our relationships opens space for new understanding and deeper connections to take root.

How is your transition into late autumn unfolding?

What might reveal itself if you took a moment to slow down?