Autumn has always been one of my favorite seasons.

It’s almost October now, and the world is slowly slipping into gold. Autumn, with all its quiet rituals and dramatic skies, is arriving in its own time—sometimes softly, sometimes all at once. As expected, the English weather has been its usual unpredictable self—gray and moody one moment, golden and forgiving the next—and just like always, my emotions have danced right along with it. And yet, my love-hate relationship with autumn remains unchanged. If anything, it deepens with every year. There’s something about this season that stirs a softness in me. A longing to write more. To slow down. To sit by the window with a warm drink and let the rain carry my thoughts far beyond the present moment. I picture long afternoons spent curled up in the corner of our quiet living room—watching droplets chase each other down the glass, listening to the soft hiss of the kettle, and waiting for that first sip of coffee that feels like a warm hug from the inside out.

Autumn has always been one of my favorite seasons. There’s a tender kind of magic in the way it reminds us that change doesn’t always come with noise—sometimes, it arrives like a whisper. The trees, in their red-gold-orange glory, are at their most beautiful when they’re about to let go. And somehow, that simple truth feels both poetic and profound. Maybe that’s why this season makes me reflect more deeply—because everything around me seems to be quietly preparing for release, for rest, for renewal. It’s as if the whole world is inviting us to do the same.

Optimistic October Calendar

To welcome this transition mindfully, I’ve decided to begin a small soul project—something to anchor me through the shifting days. I recently came across the Optimistic October Calendar from actionforhappiness.org, and something about it pulled me in. It’s filled with gentle, intentional prompts—small nudges to help cultivate joy, connection, and hope. Nothing grand. Just little daily steps to remind us to slow down, notice the good, and make space for the present. So beginning this Friday, I’ll be starting a daily blog series using that calendar as my guide. It won’t be perfect—I already know that. Work will call, life will interrupt, and there will be days when I miss a post. But I’ll try. I’ll catch up on my rest days. I’ll let it be what it is: a quiet offering, not a performance. The point, after all, is progress—not perfection.

So here I am, greeting October with open arms and open eyes. With a little hope, a lot of coffee, and the courage to begin again. To pause. To breathe. To write something every day—not because I have to, but because something in me longs to. If you’re reading this, I hope you’re doing okay. And if you’re not, that’s okay too. Take what you need. Rest when you must. Wrap yourself in softness. Let the season hold you, exactly as you are. Life doesn’t always need fixing. Sometimes it just needs noticing. And sometimes, the quietest moments—the ones we so often overlook—become the ones that stay with us the longest.

With love,
Anj 🍂