It’s Thursday—our weekly invitation to pause, breathe, and tend to an inner safe haven. How are you, really?

Every year during Fall I reflect on the fact that for thousands of years humans have used these darker months for rest, reflection, and turning inward. Our ancestors understood this as a natural cycle—a time when the earth itself grows quiet, animals slow their pace, and humans gather close to share stories and conserve energy.

Yet our modern world rarely acknowledges this. We’re expected to maintain the same productivity, energy, and social engagement regardless of season. Our bodies know to slow down, but our calendars keep speeding up. Our spirits call for quiet, yet culture pushes us to stay eternally outward-focused.

You’re not alone if you find yourself:

• Feeling the weight of grief more heavily
• Remembering those who are no longer at the holiday table
• Experiencing a deeper loneliness that can feel at odds with the season’s cheer
• Wrestling with family dynamics the holidays tend to amplify
• Noticing old wounds or unmet longings surfacing
• Carrying a sadness you can’t quite name

This leads me to today’s reflection question: “How does sadness [insert any challenging feeling or thought] need to be supported this season?”

It’s a question that acknowledges something vital—that sadness, like joy, has its place in our lives. That grief, longing, anxiety, and melancholy aren’t problems to fix but experiences to tend. Perhaps your sadness needs:

• Validation that it’s natural to feel heaviness
• Permission to decline festive gatherings when your heart needs quiet
• Space to honor memories alongside making new ones
• Recognition that joy and grief often walk hand-in-hand during holidays
• Gentle movement that lets emotions flow through your body
• The company of others who can sit with sorrow without trying to brighten it

Remember: you’re not broken if you feel heavy or tired during these months—you’re human. Your body carries wisdom about the need for quiet periods, for rest, for drawing your energy inward like a tree pulling sap to its roots.

Warmly,
Elana

P.S. Consider saving this reflection somewhere you can return to them when the gap between your inner experience and the outer world’s expectations feels too wide.