Permission To Do Nothing
It's Autumn in London and I'm feeling a profound seasonal shift
It’s not immediately obvious if you’re in London right now because the weather has been so hot, too hot for this time of year inevitably but you can certainly smell it, the unmistakeable balm of Autumn. Particularly in the evenings. It’s something like bonfires and the damp soft edges of cold creeping in. I find it intoxicatingly reassuring.
You can feel it too. Working its way into your longer sleep patterns in darkened rooms, the desire to curl up in your best jumper in front of log fires with a good book, condensation on the windows in the morning on the odd occasion where the temperature’s dropped just enough.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been spending more time in my garden this year that I feel so much more attuned to this natural cycle. Or perhaps my circadian rhythms have always been quietly beating their subterranean drums and it’s only now because I’m honouring them with my full attention, that I’m daring to notice this quiet call to ease, to rest.
Whichever it is, by virtue or necessity, that internal thrum has finally conquered me. I will not be beguiled by the superficial draw to push through, to keep working under the false pretences of electric light and the relentless immediacy of 24/7 365 contactability.
The longer nights are also calling me in earnest to return to the long-form. Like a curling mist in a forest, it’s been steadily sneaking up on me since early September. It’s become overwhelmingly evident in my poetry curation of late. Each week, each piece amassing in word count as I stumble down deeper and deeper research rabbit-holes. In addition there are some 70+ (and growing) half written drafts longing for my considered attention and a desire to restructure things a little, too. I have always thought of Autumn as a reflective time and so, attention must be paid. This of course will require a moments pause on here so I’m going to take that time. The Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland series that we’re reading together will continue for paid subscribers along with all other offerings exclusive to the full membership. If you’d like to be included in those mailings but aren’t yet fully signed up, just click the button below.
We might be able to ignore Autumn rationally but our bodies will only ever be in resistance to its equine softness, to its uncomplicated message of letting go. I can no longer resist it. Or at least I no longer want to. Instead I feel compelled to lean into that sensorily over the next couple of weeks, to allow my own nature to lead and then to come back to you. To share whatever it is that I find. I am choosing to wholly submit myself to Autumn’s downy embrace. I surrender.
Are you observing any internal shifts within yourself of late? Do you feel closely attuned to the season as I do? Is there anything you’ve been consciously (or unconsciously) trying to quieten within yourself that you really want to show up for? Or anything you’re feeling particularly reflective about?