Happy Septembering

I am very predictable in September.

My fall decorations go up. Pumpkins, silk leaves, cozy pillows and golden colored hydrangeas replace my every day decor.  This year I added twinkle lights, because twinkle lights should maybe not only be saved for Christmas.  See?  (I was watching The Force Awakens when I took this picture.  If you can't recognize Supreme Leader Snoke on my screen then you should probably question our friendship.)

I celebrate the highly adored pumpkin spice latte's return at Starbucks.  I take mine as a grande with an extra shot of espresso in case you would ever like to purchase one for me. 

All of my scarves come out of hiding, though I just stare at them longingly in my closet, because there won't be much use for them until at least November.

I craft.  It's inevitable.  September makes me glue-gun happy and I have the insatiable desire to create something.  Right now I'm working on a yarn wreath.  I haven't made one in a couple of years and I wondered how on earth I forgot that.  (Serious post about this later.)

I watch You've Got Mail, because that "bouquet of newly sharpened pencils" line gets me every time and it's not officially September until Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kiss in Riverside Garden and Brinkley approvingly barks.

And then I wait for that enchanting moment that always happens through my living room window.  I swoon and take a dozen pictures and sigh a happy autumn sigh because even if it is still 95 degrees outside, it means fall is here.

I always feel a shift in September, and not just the way sunlight pours into my living room.  In all of my predictable September practices and autumn traditions, something inside of me feels like the season we enter into.  Fall is about letting dead things go, and somehow my heart, which is usually keen on holding on to everything for dear life, is more apt to letting things too.

I'm not really sure why this is, but if it's good for the trees to have a season where they let things go, then it must certainly be good for me too.  And I wish I did it as beautifully as a maple tree turning fiery red, separating from it's branch and floating gracefully to the ground. 

In real life, letting things go often requires ugly crying - you know, the kind that comes with snot and puffy eyes and 17 tissues.  It also requires change and the starting of new things.  This season for me looks like scheduling doctor's appointments, taking new medications, beginning marriage counseling, painting with watercolors, and reading books on white privilege. 

And watching Netflix less.  Or at least, trying to watch Netflix less.  I'm being realistic about my binge-watching goals, because let's face it:  Fuller House season 3 just arrived and I can't not watch it. #teammatt

September is fleeting.  The days are getting shorter and my heart is settling into it's familiar shift of letting things go and embracing what is to come.

Happy Septembering friends.