I often get ahead of myself in the season. Descent, for example, has been a challenging one. I left my executive role in October and immediately found myself worrying about the future. Sitting with that worry felt like I wasn’t doing enough. But then I heard my intuition: You don’t need to rush; this is not who you are.
That voice was a call to presence—to be with what is, to observe without judgment. And that’s when I realized that even in my discomfort, I was trying to rush through the season.
We often try to outrun discomfort, especially under the economic pressure of anticipating the next holiday—spending, giving, celebrating. None of those are “bad,” but I resist being pushed into them by social expectation. They don’t reflect who I am or how I want to move through the world.
So I slowed down. In the space between leaving my job and now, I softened my attention and let it settle on the present moment and the rhythm of Descent.
Fall, Autumn, Samhain—whatever name it carries—is the time when plant life turns inward. Leaves fall and compost into nutrients for the next season. The shift is triggered by light: as the sun descends southward, days shorten, nights lengthen, and plants redirect their energy inward.
I did the same. As the days shortened and the leaves fell, I let things fall too—beliefs that no longer served me, resentments I had been holding, habits that needed to change now that I’m self‑employed. They didn’t disappear overnight, but each day I acknowledged them as they surfaced. Most dissolved on their own. Some lingered, and when they did, I walked. Moving my body and changing my space helped me reframe what felt stuck.
If you feel pressed by social or economic pressure and find yourself resisting, this season offers a chance to pause. Sit with what arises. Acknowledge it. And when it’s ready, let it go.