Fall Frustrations

 As summer is coming to an end, a lot of us look forward to fall and the festivities that it brings. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and so much for the ever-loving enthusiasts that enjoy celebrating. Fall brings a lot of different emotions for me: apathy, indifference, enlightenment, and avolition.

Maybe it’s the sudden shift in temperature or the way the days get darker faster, but something about this season feels like a reset even when we feel stagnant. And I’ve realized that feeling stagnant doesn’t necessarily mean we’re not moving in the right direction. Sometimes it just means we’re quietly growing beneath the surface.

In terms of sustainability, I think fall is a great time to reflect on our personal habits what we’ve been consuming all summer, what we’re holding onto, and what we can finally let go of. It’s a season of shedding and preparation. The holidays often come with a surge in buying, gifting, and waste, but maybe this year we think about how to do things differently. Can we thrift our Halloween costumes? Can we host a low-waste Friendsgiving? Can we use what we already have to decorate instead of running to buy more?

This season, instead of filling the void with overconsumption, maybe we sit with our emotions and reevaluate our relationship with the planet. May we contemplate on the emotions stirring between the surface and take time before taking actions. Fall doesn’t have to be a time of indulgence it can be a time of thoughtful intention, and patient evaluation for many. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough of a change to make a real impact.

Sustainability isn't just about ditching plastic or swapping out straws. It's about questioning how we live and how those choices ripple out into the world around us. Fall is the perfect time to embrace that kind of reflection because the season itself is all about letting go. Just like the trees shed their leaves, maybe we can shed some of the habits, expectations, or routines that no longer serve us or the planet.

And maybe feeling a little stagnant isn't such a bad thing. Maybe it's a sign that we're in a season of inner preparation. Because like nature, we don’t bloom year-round and we’re not meant to. Sometimes, the most powerful form of growth happens in silence, in stillness, in choosing to do less but with greater purpose.

So as the days grow shorter and we settle into a new rhythm, maybe we ask ourselves: what can we let go of, and what can we create instead? What kind of world are we preparing for not just for ourselves, but for those who come after us? It doesn’t have to be perfect. But it can be intentional. It can be sustainable. And it can start with something as small as how we choose to end one season and begin another.