Letting Go to Grow, Fall
As the leaves transform into brilliant shades of gold and crimson before drifting to the ground, autumn whispers an ancient wisdom we often forget: sometimes we must release what we're holding to make room for what's coming.
There's something profoundly beautiful about watching a tree shed its leaves without resistance. It doesn't cling to summer or mourn what's passing. Instead, it trusts the process, releasing what has served its purpose to conserve energy for what lies ahead.
We can learn from this seasonal change in nature. Fall invites us to examine what we're carrying: beliefs that no longer fit, relationships that have run their course, habits that drain rather than nourish, dreams that belonged to an earlier version of ourselves. The question isn't whether these things once mattered. The question is: do they serve who you're becoming?
Winter
After letting go comes winter's quiet. Winter is nature's way of going inward, of resting deeply, of allowing the soil to regenerate. The trees stand bare not in defeat but in patient preparation.
This is your permission to hibernate, to rest without guilt, to turn inward when the world demands you produce. In the stillness, something essential happens. Seeds buried in darkness begin their invisible work. Roots strengthen. Energy consolidates. The emptiness you created by letting gland preparing becomes a sacred space where new possibilities can take shape.
Spring
And then, when the timing is right, not when you force it, but when you're truly ready, spring arrives. What seemed dead bursts into bloom. The space you cleared becomes filled with growth you couldn't have imagined while you were still clutching the old.
This is the cycle we're invited to trust: release, rest, rebirth. Each phase as necessary as the next. The expansion of spring only comes because of autumn's release and winter's restoration.
As we move through fall into winter, consider:
What are you ready to release?
What would it feel like to trust the dormancy that follows?
What might bloom in the space you're creating?
Nature doesn't rush the seasons. Neither should you. Trust your cycle. Let go of what no longer serves. Rest deeply. And know that your spring is already preparing itself in the darkness.