She lives in Bliss

There’s something unmistakable about the moment autumn arrives. It’s not just the shift you can measure on a thermometer, but something in its texture. The breeze carries a slightly sharper edge, a whisper that summer is beginning to pass the torch. One evening you notice you need a light jumper. One morning you spot the first few gold leaves clinging to the pavement.

Autumn’s arrival is one of life’s gentle reminders that change is inevitable, but also beautiful. Just as summer bursts with brightness and expansion, autumn teaches us the grace of slowing down, of letting go, and of finding comfort in transition. It’s the season that calls us home to ourselves, that invites reflection and renewal, that reminds us every cycle has its purpose.

Summer is one of the best times of year, with its longer, brighter days that feel full of possibility and adventure. But this year, I found myself especially ready for autumn – to welcome the cooler months, to look forward to earlier evenings, and to relish the chance to cosy up under a blanket with a mug of tea. More than ever, I’m craving the balance that autumn brings. The season feels like a permission slip for rest, self-care, and gentler rhythms after months of outward energy.

The Great Exhale

Summer dazzles us with its energy. It pulls us outward into long days, social plans, bright colours, and a pace that often feels like one long inhale. There’s often a subtle pressure – spoken or unspoken – to “make the most of it.” Barbecues, day trips, beer gardens, endless events…Even when joyful, it can sometimes feel overstimulating.

That’s why autumn feels like such relief – a natural exhale. It invites us to slow down, to trade urgency for presence, and to find bliss in quieter rhythms. It reminds us that we don’t have to live in a constant state of doing. We’re allowed to soften into being.

For me, there’s such peace in that invitation.

A Season That Matches Our Bodies

Our bodies know instinctively what each season asks of us. In summer, we crave lighter foods, iced drinks, and the joy of moving outdoors. In autumn, the craving turns. Suddenly, we long for soups, hot teas, and relaxing inside. We find ourselves drawn to blankets, candlelight, and slower evenings.

These aren’t just indulgences – they’re natural, intuitive responses. Our bodies align with the season’s rhythm without us even noticing. After a summer of burning energy, we’re called to replenish. After weeks of warmth, we welcome the cooling air. After months of long light, we embrace earlier dusks that signal it’s time to rest.

There’s a harmony in allowing ourselves to be guided this way. When we stop resisting and start listening, we discover that our bodies and the earth are not at odds – they’re in conversation.

Embracing the Change

Change is never easy, even when it’s seasonal. Part of us clings to the familiar – the ease of sandals, the joy of late sunsets, the carefree feeling that comes with warm evenings outdoors. But autumn reminds us that change can be beautiful. It’s a living metaphor of release. Trees let go, not with fear, but with grace. The leaves fall in cascades of fire, teaching us that endings can be spectacular.

This year, I’ve been thinking about what it means to embrace change, not just tolerate it. Autumn offers a template:

• Letting go can feel natural.
• Slowing down can be nourishing.
• Turning inward doesn’t mean shutting out the world, but finding strength within it.

This season encourages us to soften our grip, to trust the cycles, to believe that letting go creates space for new beginnings.

The Sensory Bliss of Autumn

One of the most magical things about autumn is how deeply it engages the senses. To embrace the season is to immerse yourself in its colours, textures, scents, and sounds.

• Sight: Amber and russet leaves scatter the pavements, while candlelight softens the corners of our homes.
• Smell: The earthy scent of damp leaves, woodsmoke drifting in the distance, spices like cinnamon and clove infusing hot drinks.
• Touch: The comfort of a knitted jumper, the warmth of a scarf, the familiar weight of boots.
• Taste: Hearty soups, apple crumbles, roasted vegetables, the first hot chocolate (or pumpkin spiced lattes for some) of the year.
• Sound: Leaves crunching underfoot, rain pattering against the window, the stillness of early night.

These sensory details remind us that bliss doesn’t have to be grand. It lives in the smallest, most ordinary encounters. Autumn, more than any other season, teaches us to savour.

Slowing Down Without Guilt

One of the most radical acts in today’s culture of constant striving is to slow down. Autumn provides the perfect backdrop for this rebellion.

As the nights draw in, there’s less pressure to fill every hour. As the air cools, rest feels not only acceptable but essential. It’s as though the season itself gives us permission to retreat, to nourish, and to breathe more deeply.

Slowing down doesn’t mean doing nothing – it means doing things with presence. Reading by candlelight. Journaling with a warm drink. Cooking meals that simmer slowly on the stove. Taking long walks just to notice the crunch of leaves and the change in light.

Every year, I notice the same truth: when I let myself slow down, life doesn’t fall apart. Instead, it feels richer, softer, more intentional. Autumn reminds us that rest is productive in its own way.

Rituals for Autumn Bliss

One of the ways I ground myself in the season is by creating small rituals that make it feel celebrated rather than endured. Some of my favourites are:

• Lighting a candle each evening as a signal to transition from busyness to calm.
• Adding nourishing skincare textures to protect against the cool air.
• Bringing seasonal décor into my home – dried flowers, pumpkins, cosy throws.
• Cooking recipes I wait for all year, like cottage pie or apple strudel.
• Taking mindful walks to notice the changing leaves day by day.

These rituals don’t need to be elaborate. Their power lies in consistency. They remind me to honour the season, to pay attention, and to find joy in the simple.

Autumn as Balance

For me, autumn represents balance restored. It’s the sweet spot between extremes – warmth and coolness, light and dark, activity and rest. There’s enough sunshine left to enjoy an early evening walk, but enough chill to crave blankets and tea. Enough energy for productivity, but enough stillness to invite rest.

It feels symbolic too. Life is full of seasons that pull us to extremes – overwhelm, busyness, intensity. But autumn gently shows us that balance always returns. No matter how loud or bright a season has been, peace follows.

The Inner Autumn

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the idea of “inner autumn.” Just as nature cycles through seasons, so do we. Inner autumn is the season of release and reflection – the quiet period before new beginnings.

Sometimes this looks like decluttering our homes. Other times it’s more internal: releasing old beliefs, softening perfectionism, or letting go of a habit that no longer serves us.

I’ve started journaling with the prompt: What leaves am I ready to shed? And just like the trees, I’m learning that release isn’t weakness. It’s a natural step toward growth.

Feeling Ready for What’s Next

This year, I feel especially ready for autumn. Ready for those slower evenings, the deeper self-care, and more opportunities for pause and reflection. Ready for blankets and books, warm drinks and candlelight, and evenings spent in cosy stillness after long workdays.

Autumn feels like a season that grants us permission – permission to rest, to care for ourselves, to turn inward without guilt. It reminds us that slowing down is not laziness, but wisdom. That peace is not passive, but powerful.

Winter will come with its own challenges, but for now autumn feels like the season of balance and restoration. It’s the pause between extremes, the space where we can breathe deeply and remember what matters most.

An Autumn Invitation

Autumn shows us that change can be beautiful, that letting go is natural, and that slowing down is deeply nourishing.

This year, as I watch the leaves fall, I feel grateful. Grateful for the peace the season brings, for the permission to rest, and for the reminder that life moves in cycles. Each one carries its own wisdom, its own invitation, its own bliss.

This autumn, I’m leaning into the invitation to exhale, to savour, to care for myself more deeply, and to trust that letting go is part of becoming. Like the trees, we too are allowed to shed what no longer serves us – and still stand tall, rooted, and ready for what comes next.

With love,
Malissa x