There is a stage in every cycle where the energy begins to turn inward.
For trees, it’s the falling of leaves. For animals, it’s the gathering of warmth. For us, it’s subtler, often felt as tiredness, resistance, or a longing for simplicity.

In the earlier stages of adult development, we often associate growth with movement ie with forward motion, momentum, achievement. But as we evolve, we begin to understand that development is not always upward. It’s not always visible. And it’s certainly not always fast.

Autumn offers an embodied reminder of this truth.
It teaches us to root before we rise.
To slow in order to deepen.
To let go in order to grow.

In the transitions I’ve lived - career shifts, identity evolution, motherhood, loss, and rebirth, the moments of greatest transformation have rarely looked like success. They’ve looked like stillness. Questioning. Undoing.

The ego might see these as setbacks, but the deeper self knows.
This is where the real work happens.
This is where we descend, not to disappear, but to re-source.

Letting go is not the opposite of growth. It is growth.
Every time we consciously release an outdated belief, a self-protective pattern, or a false identity, we make space for something wiser to emerge.

Autumn doesn’t fight this part. It honours it.
It doesn’t mourn the falling. It knows that life continues below the surface.

This is the work of developmental deepening. We are not trying to escape the cycle, but to live it more fully, with more awareness and more compassion.

Reflection questions:

• What part of me is asking to let go in this season of life?

• Where am I being invited to pause, not as a stop, but as a turning inward?

• What might deepen in me if I stopped resisting the stillness?