Big Autumn Energy (Even If It’s Fake Fall)

We’re not going deep this week, lovely friends. We’re going shallow. Superficial. Easy. Basic.

As with much of the country, Nashville is in the throes of Fake Fall. And I am here for it. Have I had a PSL? Yes. Did I just put an autumn wreath on our front door? Sure did. Did I put up the autumn porch garland? Not yet, my car is blocking the shelf it’s on in the garage, and I didn’t feel like moving it. But trust me, I’ve got big plans the next time I pull out of that driveway. Have I fired up a Cinnamon Stick Yankee Candle? I tried, but the one from last year had maybe five minutes of wax left in it, so a fresh one is on the way.

I’ve got Big Autumn Energy, and I’m riding it straight through the day after Thanksgiving (at which point it flips seamlessly into Big Christmas Energy). Let’s. Effing. Go.

Of course, there’s a seasonal skirmish brewing online. Lovers of summer are crying, “Don’t let the nerds take these last warm days away! The sun is still high, the pool is still open! Tell those basic bitches to put their sweaters back in storage!”

I am not here to sow discord. Loving the crisp days of autumn does not make summer bad or wrong. Preferring one season over another is like preferring a particular sandwich: liking turkey doesn’t mean BLTs are trash. 

Now, I could take this deep. I could write about political discord, compassion for people who see the world differently, or the cultivation of equanimity. And maybe we’ll go there another week. But right now? I feel, acutely, that we’re living in uncertain times. And uncertainty is exhausting. It sends our limbic systems into overdrive, turning us fighty, flighty, freezy, or fawny. It’s hard to cultivate equanimity when your sympathetic nervous system is at an 11.

So lately, my partner and I have been reaching for the familiar. You probably already know about our Lego obsession, but he recently surprised me with a Nintendo Switch so I could play Mario Kart. I am thriving. Ripping around those rainbow-colored tracks as Yoshi, hurling turtle shells at my competition, has been amazing. He’s also come home from the grocery store with childhood classics like fish sticks and spray cheese in a can. And you know what? Both are still delicious.

Here’s the thing: what’s familiar is comforting. And every being on earth, from the most evolved human to the simplest plant, instinctively leans toward comfort. We just have to notice whether what’s familiar is actually good for us.

Years ago, it was familiar for me to have a couple of glasses of wine every night to “help me relax.” A couple of glasses became a bottle. Then a bottle and a half. You see where that story goes. Familiar can soothe, but familiar can also trap. If the despair you feel reading the news is starting to feel familiar, that’s a signal too.

So if this week finds you worn thin by uncertainty, consider reaching for the kind of familiar that truly restores you. Light the candle, sit in the sun, buy the fish sticks, go swimming, pull on the sweater. Comfort isn’t frivolous. It’s the gentle reminder that even when the world feels unsteady, we can create steadiness for ourselves.