Landing

Your September practice

It’s September and the fields are gently browning beneath the watchful gaze of sunflowers as they bow their wise crowns. Summer haze lifting, bees busying, the beginning of meteorological autumn palpable in the curling leaves and lengthening shadows. Bursting blackberries. Freshly sharpened pencils. Calendar pages filling.

I breathe it all in, savouring the last of the cosmos (the magenta ones, my favourite), as I walk my children to school. Meanwhile, my own stack of blank notebooks beckons my sun-scattered attention, while my open yoga mat invites me to twist and clear out, to re-establish center.

What does autumn’s onset feel like to you?

It’s a busy month, full of comforts and confrontations. Our return to classrooms and offices weighted by the daunting task of creating entirely new routines after weeks spent unraveling and breaking free. That nagging feeling that it’s time to get your head in the game, get back into it. I remind myself there is no back. It’s a word I aim to use sparingly as back doesn’t exist, not really. Just as we can’t step back to yesterday, there is no back to balance. Instead, we find our center by meeting ourselves where we are — here and now.

We’ve also been keeping the beat in more ways than we realize in our time off and away — caring for our families, descending our shoulders, and tending to parts of ourselves that are so often neglected in all our haste. The tender, essential work beyond the grip of lists. It continues even as we shift gears.

Now as the earth makes its dependable tilt toward the darker half of the year it’s so easy to lean into familiar, deep tracks. Inbound invites, lists growing, jaws tensing, inertia building… I notice myself leaning forward, uptempo, slightly rushing… and when I ask whether I need to hurry the answer is usually a clear and resounding no.

There’s no rush. We have three months to make our way inside, into winter’s embrace. We’re in transition and these moments are less about arriving, more about landing. We can sharpen our pencils enthusiastically without needing to have all the answers. What a relief.

Breathe out — there it is.

Your practice

There are, thankfully, more spacious ways to frame our days even as we get on with all the things that need doing. This happens in the smallest gestures that we make to ourselves around the edges of meetings and school runs, and it usually has a lot to do with taking a deeper breath.

I’ve created a new set of yoga-inspired practices to welcome you home to yourself this season — members will receive these timely practices each Friday, culminating with a beautiful new guidebook en route to you in a few weeks.

My ongoing writings including tools, insights, and prompts to fuel your practice will continue to land with you bi-monthly this season. And if you’re looking for more inspiration, gently suggesting that Move, Rest, Recover, my practical guide to restorative practice, is an ever timely companion to feel more rested and easeful in your unique ways, every day.

Dear collaborator

Alice Vincent

and I are sending the latest installment of our seasonal yoga + writing workshops to subscribers around the equinox and I must say this edition is my favourite to date. I always say that. But still. It promises to be a timely creative homecoming, wherever you find yourself.

Thanks you for being here, truly. See you on the mat and page soon. Please do hit the ❤️ and share this post if you’ve enjoyed landing here.

Art: Beth Spencer

Seasonal transition