seasons & cycles
The first signs of fall have been arriving this week. Cooler mornings, crunchy leaves on the ground, finally some rain, a gentle breeze ripping through the trees, yet all the flowers remain in full bloom. It has been reminding me just how much I enjoy this season—how much I adore all seasons—and the longing I have for the coolness and quiet of the ones flanking summer.
Everyone loves summer, which is reasonable enough. It is easy to love: there is always something happening. A plan to make or cancel. A friend to see. A sunny day to bask in. I love it, too. But I find that its edges rub up against me in the same way that the edges of modern life, decision fatigue, and over-stimulation do: an excess of inputs without enough down-time.
I used to declare myself an extrovert, always needing to be around people, preoccupied, ‘busy.’ But the more time I’ve spent with myself, the more I have come to realize just how much I need space. Quiet. Solitude. Ease. Peace. The absence of pressure to be anywhere. The cooler seasons offer this quality of alone time in droves (which is probably why I love winter so much, too.)
I’ve written about my tendency to romanticize the season that gets some of the most flack, but the gist of it is: winter gives me permission to be myself, in the absence of any pressure to do anything else. I could disappear into books and notebooks and cafés alone for weeks and no one would really notice. There is such an allure about that to me; such a draw to the privacy of the quiet months.
But here we are, still in August. I am grateful for all that this summer has been. Despite the way these words have made it sound, it has been a relatively quiet and peaceful one. A grounded one. One spent between parks and this keyboard and the familiar trees and lakes that have held me since I was young at this time of year, reminding me to slow down and take a deep breath (hey, why don’t we both take one right now, while we’re at it?)
I am grateful to solidify just how nourishing a summer of stillness can be. This one has brought me back into resonance with all of the routines I usually avoid and betray when I get caught up in a swirl of travel, jumping from one thing to the next. It has been really pleasant to bring some of the anchored, grounded energy to summer that I usually allow to be swept away and return only in the slower months.
I’ve noticed that during this season, often full of stimulus and excitement and joy, if you stay consistent with a few things that make you feel at ease, you can experience all of the oozing sparkly summer abundance with even more presence.
what is your spiritual practice?
I was recently asked if I have a spiritual practice. My honest answer was that it would feel performative to say yes, given that my ‘spiritual practice’ and my life just weave their way into each other these days. I essentially stated that as long as I am going on many walks (ideally sans stimulus of any kind), writing almost every day a la pen & paper, spending time outside, cooking/baking, going to cafés, spending time alone, finding my way into nature every so often, I feel quite ‘plugged in.’
Do I meditate? Occasionally.
Do I focus on specific desires that I want to actualize? Sure, sometimes.
But to me, the crux of what it means to ‘live spiritually’ is to stay connected to yourself and bring yourself as close to the vibration that you want to live in as possible.
The generic advice about how to be spiritual is good, in offering up a starting point. But ultimately, I do believe that all of our respective spiritual practices should be a reflection of what brings us uniquely into resonance with ourselves. Anything else is more or less just a distraction.
There is so much noise, so much instruction, so much assertion about how to be spiritual and what it looks like when you are. Ultimately though, the only question truly worth asking is: do you feel connected to yourself (and/or God/source/spirit/whatever your higher-force of choice is)?
If not, do what brings you closer to that sense of connection. Put simply: do what fills you with LOVE.
If that means going wild during the summer and resting decadently during the winter, great. If that means having the same routine every day year round, great. No one really knows what will bring you into that unique sense of resonance with the still, content place within that we all crave—except you. There are many tips and starting points and prompts in circulation and some will be more useful to you than others. All, I believe, are meant to lead you to the path where you can walk yourself back home. If you are someone with loads of energy who feels most themselves when moving and singing and being loud and expressive, then stillness breath meditation might not be your Act of Communion. And vice versa. Your only task when trying to ‘cultivate a spiritual practice’ is to embrace your own spiritual idiosyncrasy and flow towards the practices that genuinely serve you.
being spiritual does not need to sanitize your life of Pleasure
One of my least favourite parts of modern culture is how much it has sanitized the earthly of the spiritual. To some, an espresso and a cigarette in Paris is spiritual. A cigar and a glass of wine in Italy might bring people closer to God… the optimization-heads always wonder how these centenarians live long, healthy lives while communing with the vices that many claim will destroy us. There is a key factor missing though, when anyone attempts to aesthetically evaluate these acts: what was the place you approached that moment from? Did that moment fill you with love and closeness to those around you, or did it stem from loneliness and impulse? Did you reach for that out of such oozing abundance that it only added to the magic of the moment you’re in, or was it used as a tool to escape from it?
All vices hold the potential for harm, of course, but it is the way we relate to anything—the reason for its use—that most affects how it will impact us.
When we move towards pleasure from a grounded, spiritually sound place — we are able to enjoy it, and feel free afterwards. We are able to see it for what it is: a heightened state of being that is delicious to experience, but not superior to the rest of our lives. But when we pedestal experiences like this and seek them out incessantly, the spirituality evaporates, and they start to hold a different charge entirely.
Just like summer, they will get worshipped and treated like they are the only source of joy, when in reality, summer is much more enjoyable when you can experience it from an abundant place of knowing it will come around again, and again, and again. And that the other seasons—even if they are sometimes cold and grey!—have their own magic to offer.
This is, I think, what it looks like to live a truly Spiritual Life. When every moment feels like a treasure in its own way, and even the ones that are objectively treasures don’t enchant you too much that you forget to pay attention to the others.
Any good spiritual practice should train that sense of appreciation, joy and faith into the fabric of how you relate to the world. Knowing that peak moments are wonderful, but not to get lost chasing (or avoiding) them is essential. And remembering that at the end of the day, the only mark of a successful spiritual practice is that it makes it easy for you to be where you are, in whatever moment—or season—you might be in.
If you’d like to explore working with me 1:1 as you move towards your authentic desires while staying grounded and connected to yourself, apply here.
related essays: on self-trust, how to be cool, just show up, unblock your mind
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Your invitation to share this with someone who would get something out of it:
I love to see a reflection or discussion sparked by something I write here. Do you have thoughts on the seasons changing, being where you are, and finding a spiritual practice that uniquely works for you? Don’t be shy to share something unconventional:
Tell me what you’ve been enjoying and what you’d love to see more of. Thanks for being here. Exciting things coming soon!
Thank you Isabel for this lovely meditation. Autumn is my favourite season, so I’m happy to see the transition from summer!