Hurry involves excessive haste or a state of urgency. It's associated with words such as hurl, hurdle, hurly burly and hurricane. Hurry is the antithesis of Autumn.
Autumn has arrived, and while the changes in Hawaii may seem subtle, they’re undeniably present. The sun's angle and intensity shift, surfers migrate north, and the plumeria blooms less frequently. The energy shifts too. What was once a sizzling summer, now softens into an autumn of acceptance, inviting slowness, embracing introspection, and welcoming rest and release. Recognizing nature's seasons and living in rhythm with them serve as powerful medicine for our well-being.
I welcome Autumn with a simple mantra:
“In the slow… I come to know… what it is… I need to let go.”
It serves as a gentle reminder that even amidst a world filled with conflict and uncertainty, I can still find a moment to pause, release the heavy burdens of fear, and refocus on what truly matters.
Growing up on the East Coast, I always admired how the leaves transformed into brilliant shades of red, orange, and gold. Their final flutters, and whispered farewells as they drifted to the ground, were always mesmerizing to watch. Even though Hawaii doesn't have Autumn leaves, I can still recall and treasure these beautiful moments. I can still intuit their significance. The wisdom of the trees teaches me that true thriving requires the courage to let go.
Tree energy. Changing seasons. The two together softly invite me to participate. In response, my body moves instinctively—naturally slowing down and feeling the urge to shed. This process is pure alchemy, creating a sense of belonging and profound connection to nature itself. Words fall short in describing the depth of what my body inherently knows.
Have you ever noticed that when life slows down, all of your unresolved “stuff” comes to the surface? How do you respond when that happens? I’ve been noticing how I often overbook or distract myself to avoid sitting with discomfort. And yet…how can I let go of the things “I don’t know about?”
So, in the process of SLOW, what needs to GO will surely SHOW.
And AHA!
Now I KNOW what it is I can let GO... and in that moment, I start to remember the FLOW.
Remembering “what is important” is the foundation that keeps my steady flow. Some days, I feel like the Statue of Liberty herself—standing tall and strong, torch raised high, as the chaotic world spins wildly around me. What am I standing for? For all the beauty and meaning that fills my heart. For the simplest joys: the morning birds singing to greet the sunrise, the sound of my cat snoring softly from another room, a lighthearted card game with family, and the warmth of cinnamon-orange tea. It’s these little things found in the everyday that bring me a sense of glory and gratitude.
As the season invites us to slow down and society urges us to keep up the pace, is it possible to embrace doing less? Just as trees in autumn shed their leaves to conserve essential energy, we too can let go of what no longer serves us, preserve our vitality, create room for new beginnings, and stand firm in what truly matters.
Aligning ourselves with nature’s seasons can be a powerful remedy for our well-being. With texts, emails, social commitments, work obligations, family responsibilities, and the state of the world—politically, environmentally, and socially—pressing in on us, is it wise to add more to an already overflowing schedule? Will you be alright if you say “no” every now and then? Will there be escalating civil unrest? A global conflict? Will the climate continue to heat up until we’re all cooked? Is it possible to find a sense of calm amidst all this chaos?
These questions continue to evoke my season’s mantra: “In the slow… I come to know… what it is… I need to let go.”
It’s definitely a practice and for now I remember to:
Open my eyes to what is here. A tree swaying gently in the wind. Breathe.
Open my ears to what is present. The sound of waves rolling in the distance. Breathe.
Open my body to what I feel. The solid, stable ground beneath my feet. Breathe.
And then repeat. Again and again.
This moment is okay.
Actually, this moment is good.
WOW—sometimes there’s even awe. I’m alive, and that is a miracle in itself.
Happy Autumn--May you be surrounded by peace, health, and happiness, and may your days be filled with joy and well-being
written by: Jennifer Reuter