Category: Thoughts

October is my favourite month of the year. The leaves become crispier, the streets quieter, and an undeniable shift in energy takes over the city. Winding down comes naturally as the greyness of the sky tints the grass that was once vibrant and soft. Summer’s bright greens leave us feeling like we’re missing out on something, unsure of what that thing is. Yet knowing that the feeling of sun warmth on our skin is just enough reason to go out and find it. Then Autumn comes and moves us from looking outwards to looking inwards. It has a grounding effect, unlike any other season. Even more so for me, with my birthday being September 30th, turning October into the January of my year and filling my mind with so many thoughts and reflections on the past 12 months and the year ahead of me.

You’re not going to always know if you’re making a conscious choice or you’re repeating an old pattern to protect yourself from feeling hurt – an irrational fear placed in a hypothetical future. It’s probably easier to hold your guards up. It’s probably easier to break your own heart until you learn that you are your main source of pain, not anyone else. Highly sensitive people hurt the most, but they also dream the most and and care the most and experience life more intensely. I think it’s important to not apologize for your choices, but to recognize their reason. The world is an immensely kind place, and the answers you’re looking for never lie in the past. As long as you focus your attention on gaining awareness, there’s a lesson to be learned.

Writing used to help me cope with many difficult situations that challenged my growth, especially on an emotional level. I could pour out every little “sad” in me into detailed increments, connect the pieces, and then calmly look at it from a distanced view. I pulled things out of my past and made sense of them. I was able to heal myself by taking the position of both the teller and the listener. This worked for me mainly because all the pieces of the puzzle that I was trying to assemble were staged in what I perceived to be “a past life”. The timeline was not the biggest determinant of what a past life meant to me, but the physical and mental separation from everything that past life entailed.