What Autumn Can Teach Us About Letting Go

Look outside today. Somewhere near you, a leaf just let go of its branch, and it didn't fight it on the way down. No struggle. No holding on. It just fell. I'm Fernanda. I've been an energy healer for over twenty years, and today, the equinox, is one of my favourite days of the whole year. Every year, my clients ask me some version of the same question. So in the next few minutes, I want to show you what today can teach you about letting go. And I'll give you a two-minute practice for it, by a window or in your chair. One thing first. This is a complementary practice. It sits alongside your doctor, never instead of them.

Today, day and night are almost exactly equal. Twelve hours of light, twelve hours of dark. That only happens twice a year, once in spring and once now. Today is one of the two. For me, the equinox is a day of balance. Not a lucky day. Not a sign. Just balance. And that's the question behind the equinox itself, the one I ask every client on this day. What do you want to carry into the darker half of the year. And what do you want to leave behind, in the light half. For some people that's a grudge. For others, it's the habit of saying yes when they really mean no.

Look at the trees around you right now. They're not waiting for the perfect moment to let a single leaf go. They just let go, one at a time. The trees don't hold on. Neither do you have to. For me, that's the clearest lesson nature gives us all year. We are nature. Our bodies are made of the same water, the same minerals. Some trees are older and bigger than the rest, and to me they feel steadier. Calmer. Like they've been letting go, gently, for a very long time. No sign in the sky told them to do it. They're just doing it, right outside your window.

In my room, this time of year, I notice the same thing every September. People want to sleep more. People want to say no to things they'd normally say yes to. And they feel a little guilty about it, like they're falling behind, or doing something wrong. For me, that's not falling behind. The fading season is for letting go, sleeping more, saying no. That's allowed. Rest is not falling behind. Rest is how your body restores, and how it learns that the danger has passed. Call it energy running lower, or call it tension finally getting to rest. Either way, your body is asking for less, not more.

So how do you actually let something go. Here's what I ask my clients to do. First, notice where the heaviness sits. Your chest, your shoulders, your stomach. Just notice. Then feel it. Really feel it, with all your cells. Don't push it away yet. Then accept it. Whatever it is, it's already there. Accepting it doesn't mean you like it. And only then, with the breath, you let it go. You can name it out loud. You can write it down and burn it. Or just write it in a journal. Any of the three works. We came from the earth, the minerals, the water. We carry that history inside us, and most days we don't even realize it. And if it feels too big to hand over, remember this. The earth has held mountains for millions and millions of years. Your Tuesday is not too heavy for it.

There are two more helpers I like to use on a day like today, and neither one needs anything special. For me, the elements need to know exactly what you're looking for. So say it plainly, even just in your head. Fire is one. A candle is enough. For me, fire burns what doesn't serve you, and gives you strength to move on. Air is the other. Through the wind, you can let go of the thoughts that don't resonate anymore. The ones that are just noise. You don't need to believe any of it for it to help. Light the candle if you have one. Feel the air on your face if you don't.

Here's the practice. It takes about two minutes. In your chair, or standing by a window. Feel the chair hold you, the same way it holds you at the end of a long day. Or feel your feet on the floor. Imagine roots growing out of your feet, down into the ground. Now, silently, or on a piece of paper, name one thing you're leaving in the light half of the year. And one thing you're taking with you into the darker half. Just one each. Take a slow breath in. And breathe out longer than it came in, like the tide going out. As you breathe out, hand over what you're leaving. Down your arms, out of your palms, into the ground. You might feel your shoulders drop before you even finish the breath. That's normal. That's your body believing you. Now name one thing you're grateful for. Just one. And set one intention for the season ahead. One sentence is enough.

That's it. Two minutes, and you've done what the trees do every autumn. This exact day comes back every year. So does the invitation to ask what you're carrying. If you'd like to go deeper, I've put my ten-day journey together. It's called The Nature Reset. The link is below. And there's a link to book a gentle session too, in person in the Lower Mainland, or by distance from anywhere. The trees don't hold on. Neither do you have to. I'm Fernanda. Come as you are.