The Turning of the Leaves – Welcoming Change
There’s a moment every year when you notice it for the first time. A single leaf turned gold, standing out among a sea of green. A crispness in the air that wasn’t there yesterday. The light slanting differently in the evening, softer, slower. Change always begins quietly, almost unannounced.
We often think of change as a sudden shift—big, disruptive, impossible to ignore. But more often, it looks like this: small signals, subtle turns, gentle nudges. The kind of shifts you only notice if you’re paying attention. And maybe that’s the gift of fall—it invites us to pay attention.
The turning of the leaves reminds us that change is not something to fear, but something to honor. Trees don’t resist the seasons. They don’t cling to summer’s fullness or fight against winter’s rest. They turn, they let go, they trust the cycle. What if we allowed ourselves the same grace?
Of course, welcoming change isn’t always easy. Sometimes it feels like being caught in a wind you can’t control. Our bodies tense up, our minds scramble to predict outcomes, and our hearts ache at the thought of leaving what’s familiar. But fall teaches us another story. The trees let go without knowing exactly what will come next, and in doing so, they show us that change can carry beauty as well as loss.
Look closer: leaves are never more brilliant than in the weeks before they fall. The fiery reds, the glowing golds, the rich russets—they arrive just as the season turns toward ending. Change, at its heart, is always holding both: the ache of what’s fading, and the wonder of what it becomes.
If you think back, many of life’s most meaningful changes carried this same tension. The start of a school year—exciting and nerve-wracking. A new job—hopeful but uncertain. Even subtle changes, like the shift of routines when days shorten, hold that balance of discomfort and possibility. Fall is an invitation to stop resisting that tension and begin welcoming it.
There’s a quiet beauty in leaning into transitions instead of bracing against them. In seeing change not as the end of something, but as the next unfolding. When the air shifts and the leaves begin to fall, we’re reminded: nothing stays the same, and that’s not only okay—it’s necessary.
This is the heart of Seasons of Change. Over the next few weeks, we’ll move together through fall’s lessons: the art of letting go, the gratitude of harvest, the winds of uncertainty, and the beauty found in endings. But it all begins here, with this first turning of the leaves—this simple, breathtaking reminder that change is always part of the story.
So maybe the invitation this week is simple: notice the change. Don’t rush past it. Don’t fight it. Watch the colors shift. Let it remind you that change can be breathtaking, not just frightening.
Because like the trees, we are allowed to turn.
A Soft Challenge for the Week
This week, pay attention to one change in your life—big or small—and instead of resisting, welcome it. Notice how it feels to lean into the turn instead of bracing against it.