Preparing for the Season

Growing up, I always loved holidays. Christmas, birthdays, the beginning of something new I am a Sagittarius, we are known to be party people — anything that gave us a reason to make an ordinary day feel, especially the darker months, a little less ordinary.

It is one of the things I loved most about living in New York: people celebrate everything with dedication. They decorate. They dress for the occasion. They meet friends to cook festive meals with particular flavours. A season doesn't just pass by; it is feel-able everywhere. I remember my first autumn in New York, just a month after I had moved to the city. Suddenly everything was pumpkin spice, browns, greens and oranges. The farmers' markets changed completely with the new seasonal vegetables appearing. The city looked and smelled different.

I am actually quite glad that some of this has transferred onto social media. The seasonal wardrobes, cozy knits, purple and blue checked flannels, olive and chocolate-brown corduroy pants, barn jackets and suede fringe. People pulling out their Twilight books, watching Gilmore Girls again, getting ready for Practical Magic 2.

There is something slightly corny about it, of course. But there is also something I genuinely love about it: celebrating makes us pay attention and has us looking at the joyful side of what is present.

We notice the weather, the cold and the rain, as something that brings a new mood, freshness and coziness. We notice how the leaves start changing colors and the new harvest that makes us think about what we want to eat. We think about what we want to wear, how we want our homes to feel. We put a little more care into details that we might otherwise pass by without noticing. Perhaps this is why it feels so closely related to what I love about mindfulness and movement.

A large part of my movement practice is about paying attention to what feels good. Not in the sense of avoiding everything difficult, but of becoming sensitive enough, participating actively enough to notice pleasure in the body: a movement that creates space somewhere, warmth spreading through a muscle, the relief of releasing unnecessary tension, the feeling of strength and robustness when the body supports itself well. These can be very small things. But once you start looking for them, there is quite a lot to find.

The past years, autumn has been the start of a difficult time for me. As a child, I used to look forward to the colder months. Over time I started to dread them because cold and wet weather often came with my body flaring: pain and exhaustion amongst other things that made movement more difficult, and the unpleasant feeling of an immune system working overtime on something nobody asked it to do. At some point, I stopped being able to see the changing season, the leaves, coats, Christmas and long dinners. To me, it mostly meant preparing for what my body might do.

I don't think I can simply decide not to be affected by that. A positive mindset doesn't make a physical reaction disappear, but I can change my questions. Instead of looking at the coming months and thinking, Here comes the cold, I can ask: What can I do to make myself comfortable? What can I do to give myself a good, supportive base? How can I make myself enjoy what is about to come the way I used to when I was a child?

That changes surprisingly much. It means dressing extra warmly instead of pretending I am not cold. Looking for those precious rays of autumn sun. Getting enough rest. Making hearty soups and dishes from the oven from whatever vegetables have just appeared at the market. Creating warmth and comfort at home. Paying attention to what my body needs before it hits me with the usual flare.

This also changes how I approach movement. During the colder months, I want my practice — and the workshops and private sessions I teach through my Light Space Movement method — to have even more room for this kind of attention. Movement can strengthen and support the body, but it can also be a place to explore it: all the corners and spaces where something pleasant might be hiding. A little more mobility. A little more warmth. A satisfying stretch. Strength without strain. The pleasure of feeling yourself move. Calmness and coziness.

Preparing for autumn can mean creating the conditions that allow for noticing and enjoying the beauty of the seasonal changes and the present, instead of having to mean bracing yourself against it. Nature turns bright red and yellow. Long coats create an image of drama and romanticism. The smell of fresh air after the rain clears the lungs. Warm food and a patch of sunlight feel extra nourishing. The body can embrace the joy and calm of getting to move, looking for what gives you energy without being pushed.

I am trying to approach the coming season in that way: not by ignoring the things that can make it difficult, but by paying at least as much attention to everything that can make it good. It is one of the things celebration does. It allows us to notice what is here — and then to add a little care, attention and pleasure to it.