October, and the art of letting go.

October arrives with a hush. The mornings are misty, the evenings draw in early, and the trees begin their slow, golden surrender. There’s something about this month that invites reflection—a quiet turning inward, a gentle reckoning with change.

This year, October has brought a deeply personal transition for me. My eldest daughter has started university, and to be closer to her campus, she’s moved in with family members during the week. It’s a beautiful opportunity, and I’m so proud of her courage, and her quiet strength. She’s funny, generous and full of light—and I hope the world meets her with the same tenderness she offers others.

Still, her absence is felt deeply. Not just by me, but by her dad and her younger siblings, who miss her laughter, her presence, her way of making everything feel whole. We’re a close-knit family, and this shift has been challenging. Even as a therapist, I find myself sitting with the ache of letting go. The house feels different. Quieter. And I’m learning, day by day, to meet that ache with self-compassion.

We make the most of our two days a week together—playing, talking, laughing, simply being. Those moments feel sacred now. They remind me that love doesn’t disappear with distance; it just changes shape.

🍂 On Transitions and Letting Go

Letting go is rarely a single act. It’s a process—a slow unfolding, a series of small surrenders. We let go of routines, roles, identities, seasons of life. Sometimes we choose it. Sometimes it chooses us.

Transitions can be joyful, painful, confusing, or all three at once. A child leaves home. A relationship shifts. A job ends. A new beginning stirs. And in the midst of it all, we’re asked to feel—to grieve, to hope, to trust that something new will emerge.

Therapy can be a place to hold these transitions gently. To name what’s changing. To honour what’s been lost. To find language for what’s still becoming.

🌸 Gentle Resources for Tender Transitions

• Self-Compassion Guided Meditation by Kristin Neff

• Poem: “The Layers” by Stanley Kunitz

• Book: Wintering by Katherine May

🧶 A Poem for October

The leaves don’t ask permission to fall.

They simply let go—

golden, quiet, brave.

May we learn from them.

To release with grace,

to soften into change,

to trust that what remains

is enough.

From my chair,

Agi