Hey, can you believe that it is August already. It’s too soon. Emotionally, I’m still back in June, standing in front of the fridge trying to remember why I walked into the kitchen.
And honestly? I didn’t do any of the things I said I’d do this summer. I didn’t clean the garage, or train for that 5K, or make it to the beach. I did, however, work an unreasonable number of hours, forget what day it was multiple times, and somehow survive on trail mix and a tea mix. So that counts for something.
Anyway, now fall’s creeping in, instead of fighting it or spiraling into the usual “new season, new hustle” mindset, I’m thinking… what if we just didn’t? What if we let fall be soft? More weird, cozy joyful.
The kind of joy where you come home, kick off whatever, toss the tote with that favorite scrub cap the floor and don’t try to accomplish anything for a solid hour. You just exist. Maybe there’s soup involved, maybe it’s just cereal in your favorie bowl. Maybe you stare out the window for ten full minutes while holding a warm mug and thinking absolutely nothing useful. Revolutionary stuff, really.
And maybe—just maybe—you actually let yourself lean into the quiet parts. That weird in-between time, when it’s dark but not late, and everything smells like cold air and laundry. That’s fall, too. No glittering plans, Pinterest-worthy casseroles. Just you, for right now, finally exhaling after holding it together all day.
I know it’s tempting to fill the calendar again. School starts. Schedules tighten. Everyone starts talking about goals and change and productivity like we’re not already managing five alarms and a backlogged inbox. But fall isn’t asking us for more. It’s just offering a change of pace—an excuse to slow the heck down without feeling like we’re slacking.
Honestly, some of my favorite moments this time of year aren’t planned. They’re accidental. Like realizing the sky looks like a painting while walking to the car, or catching a whiff of woodsmoke and forgetting, just for a second, that there are charts, tasks and people waiting for you.
So no, I didn’t conquer summer. But fall? Fall might just be where I catch my breath. Maybe not in big, dramatic ways—but in small, sneaky, wonderful ones. Like right now, talking, pretending we’ve got all the time in the world before the next task starts. Let’s hold onto that feeling a little longer.
And maybe get a candle that smells like something slightly ridiculous. We’ve earned that.