Crossing the Threshold: Honoring the Shift from Summer to Autumn

The air feels different this time of year. The light softens, evenings grow cooler, and the rhythm of the days begins to change. In Durango, late summer holds a particular sweetness — the mountains touched by golden light, gardens heavy with harvest, the first hint of crispness at dawn. Then, almost overnight, the shift begins. The Fall Equinox approaches, and with it an invitation to notice both the outer and inner transitions of this season.

Autumn is more than a change in weather; it’s a threshold. It asks us to pause, to listen, to attune to the ways both nature and our own inner lives are preparing to turn inward.

The Outer Shifts

Everywhere in the natural world, change is happening. The long, expansive days of summer give way to shorter, cooler ones. Trees begin to release their leaves, a reminder that letting go is a natural and necessary part of the cycle of life. Animals prepare for migration or hibernation, moving with an instinctual wisdom that says: the season ahead requires conservation, stillness, and rest.

The Fall Equinox itself marks a moment of perfect balance — equal day and night. It’s a threshold between light and dark, action and rest, expansion and contraction. In that balance, we’re invited to consider: Where do I need more equilibrium in my own life? What would it feel like to honor both light and shadow, activity and rest, growth and release?

For many of us, autumn also stirs something tender. The beauty of the changing leaves is matched by a sense of impermanence — a reminder that nothing lasts forever. Instead of resisting, nature teaches us to move with the cycle, trusting that endings are not final but openings to what comes next.

The Inner Shifts

As the outer world turns, so do we. Our bodies and nervous systems are attuned to seasonal rhythms, even when we try to push against them. You may notice changes in energy, mood, or even relationships as autumn approaches. Perhaps you feel called to slow down, to rest more, to draw inward. Or maybe you feel resistance to the contraction after summer’s expansiveness.

This is the nature of transitions: they stir both possibility and discomfort. Growth requires not just beginnings, but endings too. To step into something new, we often must release what no longer serves us.

The equinox offers a moment to ask:

• What am I ready to let go of?

• Where am I holding on out of habit, fear, or expectation?

• What is emerging within me that needs space to grow?

Just as trees release their leaves, we too are asked to shed — perhaps an old pattern of self-doubt, a relationship dynamic, or even an inner story that has kept us small. In the space created, something new can take root.

Rituals and Practices for the Equinox

Rituals don’t have to be elaborate. They are simply ways of bringing awareness and intention to life’s transitions. Here are a few gentle practices to honor the shift from summer to autumn:

1. A Walk of Noticing

Take a slow walk in nature — whether in the forest, a local park, or even your own backyard. Notice what is changing. Pay attention to color, scent, sound, and the feel of the air. As you observe the transitions around you, reflect on what shifts are happening within you.

2. Release Through Writing

Light a candle and spend a few minutes journaling about what you’re ready to release. You might list habits, thought patterns, or even expectations you’ve been carrying. When finished, you could tear or burn the paper as a symbolic letting go.

3. Balance Practice

Since the equinox represents balance, try a brief practice of stillness. Stand with feet firmly planted on the earth, take slow breaths, and imagine drawing energy equally from the light and the dark. Notice what it feels like to hold both at once — strength and vulnerability, joy and sorrow, beginning and ending.

4. Gratitude Ritual

Harvest season is a natural time to give thanks. Name three things from the summer you are grateful for — moments of connection, growth, or joy. Let gratitude be the bridge between what is ending and what is beginning.

These small practices create containers of meaning. They remind us that change is not something to fear, but something to honor.

Autumn as Teacher

For me, autumn has always carried a deep teaching. Horses, in their sensitivity to rhythm and energy, mirror the way nature itself moves through cycles. They remind me that contraction is not failure; it’s part of the dance of life. The slowing down, the letting go, the resting — these are not signs of weakness but of wisdom.

In my work as a therapist, I see how hard transitions can feel. We often crave certainty, yet life moves in cycles of change. The seasons remind us that endings are not permanent, but essential steps in the process of renewal. Autumn shows us that release is not loss, but preparation for what’s next.

Closing Invitation

As summer fades and autumn takes its place, I invite you to pause. Step outside. Notice the light, the air, the trees. Breathe deeply and ask yourself: What is changing in me? What am I ready to release? What wants to grow?

The equinox offers a moment of balance — an opportunity to align our inner lives with the wisdom of the natural world. By honoring this transition, we give ourselves permission to slow down, to listen more deeply, and to step gently into the season ahead.

Autumn is here to teach us that letting go is not the end of the story — it’s the beginning of a new one.

If you’re interested in learning more about nature-based practices or incorporating spirituality into therapy, reach out below.