As I’ve come to discover it does every year, winter has officially settled in for the next couple of months. It’s miserably cold outside and there’s much to complain about, but at the very least I’ve found a quiet moment to sit back and write. I started this piece at our local laundromat a couple weeks back while waiting for my clothes to dry, but never got around to finishing it because –as it always does– life got in the way. Of all the places I seek inspiration, it felt comical that this crowded space of rattling machinery and tumbling would be the corner where –for once– it came and found me.  
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I’d been up early that morning hoping to beat the weekend rush, and remember stopping in the middle of the road to note that almost every tree on our block had completely lost its leaves. The last them were falling quietly now, decorating the air with what must’ve been the season’s last shower of dropping foliage. The mist made quick work of my hair, and a cold chill pushed heavy into my lungs. Autumn had fully taken its leave.

Now, fully snuggled up by the fireplace [my monitor on a Yule log video loop] I’m bidding fall farewell, and bearing loss to my absolute favorite season.

Looking back on all the memories that made this particular season so special, I’m thinking about the intention that went behind making sure everything actually took place. I think for a lot of us, we’d love to believe that life will unfold on it’s own at our feet, bringing to us the right people, places, moments and things, and as much as I do think some part of that is true, I also believe that a big part of life is making these very things happen for yourself. It’s an interesting balance between flowing and forcing, but at least for me and this season here, it felt important to score both the work and the joy that comes from creating your own happiness. It sounds so silly, I know, but there’s something there believe me. We have the power to bring ourselves into some of life’s greatest moments, just as much as we have the same to bring ourselves out of our darkest days. Sometimes we just have to do it. Let me tell you a story.

More than a couple seasons back, I sat up in my car and cried about the end of my very first relationship, feeling practically inconsolable over someone I thought I loved. We hadn’t dated for more than a couple months, but ultimately he’d been my first boyfriend and I’d taken much of our departure to heart. The failure of it all, especially, felt as though it had seeped into every nook and cranny, casting this wide inescapable shadow over every corner of my life. It was a dark season to say the least. At the time, I was getting ready to take on my last semester of college, and as the cold reality of graduation loomed heavy over my head, I knew something needed to change if I didn’t want to drown in the weight of my breakup for the next couple of months. So I tried something. I called up my close friend Sarah, and together came up with a densely planned calendar of counter-attack. We put together an aggressive itinerary, detailing every last possible thing you might want to eat/see/do in Austin before graduating and launching into adulthood, thus ensuring I had something to look forward to ahead of every difficult day. It seemed odd planning out weekends with friends months in advance, but believe you me, it absolutely worked.

Last year, as I pushed through through the grueling adjustment brought about by some of the toughest first months of employment coupled with the violently aggressive temperatures in this unforgiving city, I fell into a darker headspace once more. This time making my way out was a little more difficult given the lack of a proper support system, and the overwhelming work exhaustion that seemed to be sweeping over my life. Yet again, I leaned on the power of intentional planning to give myself things to look forward to, and reasons to get out of the bed in the morning –you’d think I’m kidding, but try peeking an eye out of the covers when it’s seven degrees outside and you’re living in a poorly-heated pre-war apartment…

Needless to say, when this year’s first autumn chill struck the back of my neck and memories of the dreaded 4PM sunsets flooded my mind, I ran to the nearest Target and found the largest calendar money could buy. It took all but one evening of heavy Google-ing and wine-sipping to put together the perfect autumn bucket list, and once all members of the squad had been properly notified, my evil plan for self-help and mental stability was well underway.

What follows is inevitably a series of events characterized by both the unexpected joys that find you during pre-planned activities, as well as your healthy dose of unforeseen chaos. Over the next couple of weeks, we rented an AirBnb at a local farm upstate, visited your ever-so-basic apple orchard farmhouse, carved pumpkins, partied like kids over Halloween weekend, strolled under the foliage paths in Central Park, and even hosted our very own Friendsgiving –with an upgrade to an actual table from our coffee table set-up last year. It took a lot of following-up on both plans and people to make it happen –and we most certainly hit a couple roadblocks along the way– but all in all I’d say it was a pretty successful autumn season. I’m swooned by the memories both made and left behind, and stand painfully aware of the reality that is the willingness to get up and create these cherished moments for myself.  

Though I’m sure I could rant about this all night, I’ll leave you with this today. The good that you bring into your life, and the good that you surround yourself with, might sometimes be ultimately up to you. Sure, life throws a couple curved balls every once in a while that make it really hard to plan too far in advance (and help keep things interesting if you ask me) but for the most part, there’s good room to plant seeds ahead of (the literal) winter.

We had this saying when I was growing up that essentially revolved around moving “cielo, mar, y tierra” (the stars, the sea, and the land) in order to get to where you wanted to be. I’m not entirely sure I grasped it properly at the time, but do remember feeling fully capable of moving these impossible things around in order to get to my goals ahead, even as a kid. And the truth is, maybe I’m better off misunderstanding it well into my adult life, too. What could possibly be so bad about believing you have the ability to actually get up and do something for yourself? God forbid you one day do.

When I moved to New York a little over a year ago, I had no place to call a home, no friends to call a family, and no support system to welcome me in. I was nervous about uprooting my entire life in Austin and moving across the country with but one significant friend to truly rely on. And yet at the same time, deep down I knew I wanted to bring good things into my life. Surround myself with good people. And create for myself a new community to welcome me in. And I'd like to believe that I have.
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I’m sad to see this Autumn season come to an end, but couldn’t be happier to see it so full looking back. These memories will stay with me for some time, and with luck, just a little bit more.
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Be well dear friends, and as always more to come.