This was originally sent as my November 2026 newsletter. Want monthly-ish reflections delivered to your inbox? Sign up here.
2026 has been a year. After my dad passed away earlier this year, my mom followed in late September. My parents were enthusiastic ballroom dancers in their younger years, and I can imagine them on a dance floor somewhere gliding along, their footwork elegant and graceful, and their youth restored.
Grief has been an interesting companion, a reminder that life, and love, are temporary, and that the opportunities to connect to the people I love are similarly limited.
As I wander in the forests near my home, fall is slowly arriving - bringing with it the splendour of colour that signals the trees turning all systems to rest for the winter. I've always experienced this time of year as an opportunity to turn myself to a more restful frame of mind and being, and this year I feel like I need to slow down more than ever.
But rest is a complicated topic. I notice how well programmed I am to turn to busy-ness, work and task completion, rather than take on the daunting task of being with the pain of the end of a generation of elders who supported me. How much easier it is to read another murder mystery rather than tuning into the voice of my heart.
I don't have answers to the waves, but I notice the solace of writing morning pages, sitting with a cup of tea as a ritual reminder of my parents, and making time to make colourful pages in my planner as ways I have let myself be. It's doing, but doing for being's sake.
I wonder if this part of life is an invitation to be with my own mortality, and to ask more challenging questions about my relationship with my life - family, connection, work, joy, engagement... With less energy and capacity at the moment, I feel like my level of discernment about how and where I spend my energy is profoundly honed - a tool for self-preservation I am learning to appreciate and to use well.
I am excited for the first snow on the ground so the true nesting, resting season can start.
For those of you walking through your own grief, I am so glad you are here.
As always, connecting with you is important to me. What are you learning in your current season of life? I would love to hear from you - you can send me an email here.
