The Art of Transition
Sweet Soul,
The air starts feeling cooler, and the light is different. Sunny days aren't so burning hot any longer, as the counterbalance of cloud-painted skies comes in, bringing the moistening rains along with them. There is a feeling of relief interweaving with threads of melancholy as I feel the season beginning to turn.
With deep appreciation for the fresher mornings, I am reminding myself to move through this transition with surrender, resilience and dignity, rather than resistance. To respond to what is here, rather than trying to control what is changing.
After long days outside, the strong energy of expansion, and often-unexpected spontaneity, a natural desire for clearing begins to arise. Making space. Welcoming a little more refined structure. Supporting what wants to continue, completing what is ready to come to an end, and perhaps bringing new things to life.
In the language of the Five Elements, we are gradually moving from Fire towards Metal, with Earth somewhere in between — offering grounding and stability as we find a new rhythm and a new pace for the season ahead.
And as I prepare for Inner Harvest, now less than a month away, all of this feels particularly relevant. Last spaces left, if you want to become part of it, drop me a line.
I've been sitting with these words for a few days:
“Creating a field of generous attention and care takes practice. As we make our initial attempts at listening with precision and gentleness, we are changed slowly and quietly from within.”
— Elena Brower, Hold Nothing
They open such a vast space to explore, question, observe, and dare to acknowledge and accept. Perhaps even to discover a new direction, or to gently re-route.
This feels so much like yoga to me. A spiritual practice. Opening towards the unknown, widening our awareness, awakening aliveness and receptivity — while remaining attentive enough to notice what is actually happening within us.
It is how my own practice has been unfolding this summer. A consistent asana practice that I have maintained for years has been shifting and quietly transforming, returning to familiar elements in new ways. And, importantly, this transformation has not been supported by theory alone. It has been nourished by in-person exchange with other teachers and practitioners — by practising together, observing, sharing, and simply being in the presence of others on the path.
At the end of this summer, my body feels more open, particularly around the chest and shoulders. What a blessing. And what gratitude I feel for something that has not been forced, but has emerged naturally from within through attention, practice and time. Perhaps this is another kind of ripening.
A space to contemplate
As the season changes, you might ask yourself:
What am I ready to make space for?
What wants to be completed, released or simply allowed to rest?
Where in my life could I replace control with a little more attentive response?
Perhaps you don't need to answer immediately. Sometimes the question itself creates enough space for something new to become visible.
What would nourish you?
I've also been pondering the possibility of creating some online offerings for you.
Before I begin, I'd love to listen to you. I've made a short questionnaire — just a few questions about where you are at and what would genuinely support you right now. Your answers will help me shape the next chapter of Pure Self.
