When the Light Changes: Navigating Autumn’s Descent with Compassion
By Jen Bennethum
The Subtle Weight of Seasonal Shifts
As summer fades and the air begins to cool, many people notice a quiet shift—not just in temperature, but in mood, energy, and emotional tone. The transition from summer to fall is often romanticized: crisp air, golden leaves, cozy sweaters. But beneath the aesthetic charm lies a deeper, more complex experience. For many, this season brings a noticeable dip in vitality, a heaviness in the body, and a sense of emotional fog.
“Autumn asks that we prepare for the future—that we be wise in the ways of garnering and keeping. But it also asks that we learn to let go—to acknowledge the beauty of sparseness.” — Bonaro W. Overstreet
This isn’t just psychological—it’s physiological. As daylight wanes, the body receives less exposure to natural light, which disrupts circadian rhythms and impacts the production of serotonin and melatonin. These biochemical shifts can lead to changes in sleep, appetite, and mood. For some, this manifests as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), a form of depression that emerges cyclically with the darker months. But even for those without a formal diagnosis, the seasonal descent can feel like a slow unraveling.
Seasonal Affective Disorder
Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a form of depression that follows a seasonal rhythm, most often surfacing in late fall and winter when daylight diminishes. Unlike fleeting “winter blues,” SAD can deeply affect mood, energy, relationships, and daily functioning. While less common, some individuals experience a summer-pattern version marked by agitation and insomnia. The condition is rooted in physiological shifts—reduced sunlight disrupts circadian rhythms, lowers serotonin, and increases melatonin, all of which can impact sleep, appetite, and emotional regulation.
Symptoms of winter-pattern SAD often include persistent sadness, fatigue, oversleeping, carbohydrate cravings, social withdrawal, and difficulty concentrating. For those with trauma histories, the seasonal loss of light and warmth may trigger deeper emotional responses, echoing past experiences of isolation or scarcity. Recognizing these patterns allows us to respond with compassion, anchoring ourselves in supportive practices and care
Why the Body Feels It First
The body is exquisitely attuned to environmental cues. As the days shorten, the nervous system begins to recalibrate—often before the mind catches up. Energy levels may drop, motivation may wane, and emotional resilience may feel harder to access. For individuals with histories of chronic stress or trauma, this shift can be especially pronounced. The body may interpret the loss of light and warmth as a signal of threat or scarcity, echoing past experiences of isolation, abandonment, or grief.
This isn’t a flaw—it’s a form of wisdom. The body remembers. And as the external world grows darker and colder, the internal world may respond with heightened sensitivity, fatigue, or emotional reactivity. These responses are not signs of weakness; they are invitations to listen more deeply.
The Grief of Letting Go
Autumn is a season of release. Trees shed their leaves, gardens go dormant, and the vibrancy of summer gives way to stillness. This natural cycle mirrors the emotional process of grief. Letting go—of light, of warmth, of the pace of summer—can stir feelings of sadness, nostalgia, and even fear. For many, fall marks the beginning of a descent into introspection, where old wounds may resurface and the ache of unmet needs becomes more palpable.
Rather than resisting this descent, we can choose to honor it. Just as nature prepares for rest, so too can we create space for slowing down, for reflection, and for tending to what’s been buried.
Creating Anchors in the Dark
When the external world feels less predictable, internal anchors become essential. These anchors might be sensory: the scent of cinnamon, the texture of a soft blanket, the ritual of warm tea at dusk. They might be relational: a weekly check-in with a friend, a shared meal, a moment of eye contact. Or they might be spiritual: journaling, breathwork, or lighting a candle with intention.
These practices help the body feel safe, seen, and soothed. They offer rhythm and meaning in a time that can otherwise feel disorienting. And they remind us that even in darkness, we can cultivate warmth.
Welcoming the Descent
Healing doesn’t always look like upward motion. Sometimes it looks like descent—into stillness, into memory, into the quiet spaces where truth lives. The shift from summer to fall invites us to slow down, to listen, and to honor the wisdom of the body. It’s a time to release what no longer serves, to grieve what’s been lost, and to prepare for the deep rest of winter.
As therapists, caregivers, and humans, we can meet this season with reverence. By attuning to the subtle shifts within and around us, we create space for transformation—not in spite of the darkness, but because of it. Please let us know how we can walk beside you on your journey at Integrate Therapy and Wellness Collective.
