There is something quietly magical about September – the smell of newly sharpened pencils, the smooth page of a notebook that has yet to be scribbled across and the muted excitement of a world recalibrating after the sun-drenched, sometimes aimless days of summer. It is no wonder this month is often sold to us as a time of reinvention.
So, here’s how to approach this new season, gently and intentionally.
1. Tune into seasonal energy
In the Celtic Wheel of the Year, September is the threshold between harvest and descent, the point at which the abundance of summer begins its slow retreat into the introspection of autumn. This seasonal shift can be mirrored in our own capacities and desires, often pulling us towards inward contemplation, quiet observation and the urge to consolidate rather than expand; rather than pushing yourself to do more simply because it “feels like the start of something”, consider how you might align your actions with the natural cadence of the months, gathering energy, tending to unfinished projects, and noticing the subtle changes in light, temperature and mood that signal the passage of time, observing how shadows stretch longer, how the morning air carries a sharper edge and how the first golds and crimsons appear in trees that were once green.
2. Reclaim your attention
In a world where screens are constantly vying for our focus, it is easy to arrive at September with attention frayed, thoughts half-formed, and curiosity diluted by infinite scrolling. This new season can be an invitation to take ownership of what you allow into your mind; to pause and ask yourself what truly nourishes you rather than what is simply convenient or habitually compulsive. A practical step might be taking inspiration from your school days and drafting yourself a personal syllabus – but one defined by intentions and fulfilment. Jot down all the films, series and documentaries you genuinely want to watch, the books that have lingered on your shelves unread, the podcasts or websites that feel enriching, and other media experiences that feed curiosity rather than distraction. Plan out what you want to read, watch and listen to each week – all with the simple goal of learning to receive the world on your own terms and with greater intentionality, noticing how different the experience feels when you engage deliberately rather than by autopilot.
RM Block
3. Pick a skill or subject to dive into
For many of us, school or college was the last time we undertook some focused study or research, but research doesn’t have to be about prescribed ideas or receiving a grade at the end. It can be deeply satisfying to pick one area, subject or skill to explore without the pressure of immediate mastery or measurable output. When we embrace learning for learning’s sake, letting curiosity itself become the primary motivation, the act of learning, whether it is a new language, a craft, a research topic, or an artistic pursuit, can restore a sense of aliveness that many adults rarely experience outside of work or obligations. This isn’t about engaging in hustle culture or trying to monetise a new skill or be more productive – here, the pleasure is not in perfection or achievement, but in the iterative, often messy process of discovery, in tracing the paths of your own thought and skill, and in the subtle, cumulative joy of seeing progress where none had previously existed. Pick a topic and explore it for a month, or try a new skill you’ve always wanted to attempt but have been too scared to fail at. Here, the stumbling and the learning is the point; expanding your knowledge in a way that is unhurried and internally motivated.
4. Make an autumn term bingo card
Instead of framing goals around productivity, achievement or the unrealistic rigour of New Year’s resolutions, consider creating a playful bingo card of experiences to have before the end of the year, a collection of small adventures that are chosen for novelty and enjoyment rather than obligation: an afternoon exploring a new neighbourhood, a visit to a gallery or museum you have neglected, cooking a seasonal recipe that challenges you, arranging a spontaneous lunch with someone you rarely see, simply taking a different route on a walk you take every week, or doing something you’ve never done or haven’t done in years. When was the last time you rode a horse? Hopped a train to a different county for the day? Attended a dance class? The purpose is to cultivate experiences that feel fresh and alive, to reclaim a sense of agency in shaping your own narrative, and to celebrate the tiny joys that accumulate quietly over time, the moments that later ripple outward in memory, carrying warmth long after they have passed.
5. Face what you are avoiding
There are always a handful of tasks, obligations, or small irritations that linger in the background of life, creating a subtle but persistent sense of dread or low-level anxiety. One of the most liberating acts of self-care in September can be to identify what you have been avoiding and to finally do the thing that has been silently occupying mental space. This is sometimes referred to as “eating the frog”, as Mark Twain once wisely noted: “If it’s your job to eat a frog, it’s best to do it first thing in the morning. And If it’s your job to eat two frogs, it’s best to eat the biggest one first.” So do the unpleasant thing, and experience the wave of relief and pleasure when it’s finally off your to-do list. Send the overdue email, pay the bill, fix the dripping tap, or make the difficult phone call. These tasks are not glamorous or Instagram-worthy, but the release of tension they offer allows the mind to breathe more fully and to be present for what is genuinely fulfilling. Think of it as ridding your life of unnecessary dread – there’s enough of that in the wider world, you don’t need to hold on to more of it unnecessarily.
6. Start a journal or memory practice
It wouldn’t be September without a new notebook, would it? Rather than using writing as a tool for self-optimisation, consider adopting a journal simply as a record of lived experience, a place to note moments that brought warmth, curiosity or joy, and to chart the subtle fluctuations of mood, thought, and energy over time. Joan Didion wrote about the value of the notebook as a reconciliation tool for the self and all of its iterations: “I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind’s door at 4am of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends. We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. We forget the loves and the betrayals alike, forget what we whispered and what we screamed, forget who we were ... It is a good idea, then, to keep in touch, and I suppose that keeping in touch is what notebooks are all about.” Whether you’re a one-line-a-day person, a scrapbooker who pastes in cinema ticket and cafe receipts to remember experiences, or someone who writes down micro-moments of daily joy, you don’t have to be daily or discipline. But give yourself a few moments of reflection to create an archive that can later reveal moments, patterns, growth, and resilience that might otherwise go unnoticed. Journalling can offer a sense of continuity and grounding in a world that often feels disjointed.
7. Invest in relationships
As the days shorten and routines become more structured, it can be easy to overlook relationships that require nurturing, yet this season offers a perfect opportunity to identify one meaningful way to invest in the people who matter most, whether that means scheduling a long walk with a friend, committing to a monthly phone call with a distant relative, sending a handwritten letter, or simply arranging time to listen without distraction. Relationships, like gardens, flourish only when tended, and the gentle attention you provide now will yield richness long after the last leaf has fallen.
8. Address emotional energy drains
Unresolved conflicts, simmering grudges, persistent feelings of low self-worth, or other emotional burdens have a subtle but exhausting way of sapping energy and obscuring the pleasures of life. September is an ideal time to confront these challenges, whether that means articulating feelings long left unspoken, setting clear boundaries, or simply acknowledging the emotions you have been avoiding. Seeking support from a therapist or counsellor can be profoundly helpful in navigating these emotional landscapes, allowing you to process what weighs you down, restore mental clarity, and approach the coming months with a lighter, more open heart, noticing how freedom from old resentments or unspoken tensions creates space for curiosity, play and genuine engagement with the world.
9. Redefine self-care
Self-care has been commodified into a ritual of consumerist indulgence, but as the writer Audre Lorde reminds us, it is “not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare”. True care often takes unglamorous forms: doing the laundry, tidying your space, responding to letters, or taking a brisk walk even when uninspired. These small, steady acts build resilience, reduce stress, and provide the foundation for genuine rest and joy. Far from a retreat, self-care sustains our capacity to remain engaged in political activism and social struggle, ensuring we have the energy and presence to keep challenging injustice. Often mundane and grounding, these gestures form the invisible scaffolding of a lighter, more empowered and politically alive life.
10. Step outside yourself
Modern life and self-optimisation culture can encourage endless introspection and focus on the self, which can actually be draining, disconnecting and lonely. September also encourages a gentle outward turn, a reminder that engaging with the broader world can be energising in ways that self-focused routines rarely are; volunteering, activism, participating in community projects, or simply making a point to be present at local events. These actions can cultivate connection, empathy, and a sense of shared purpose, offering perspective and satisfaction that arises not from consumption or achievement, but from contributing to something larger than oneself and experiencing the joy of human interconnection.
September is not merely a prelude to the pressures of autumn, or a mini-New Year for productivity fanatics; it is a season of gentle recalibration, an invitation to engage with curiosity, connection, learning, reflection, and emotional honesty. It’s a time to sharpen not just pencils but attention and intention, and to practice forms of care that are subtle, enduring, and deeply human. In this way, the promise of September is not in doing more, but in doing differently: with warmth, depth, and presence.
