Do the Autumn and Winter seasons feel like a slog?
Many of us notice shifts in our energy, mood, and emotions as the light changes. Lower daylight levels influence our physiology, and as a result, our internal world. For some, these changes feel mild; for others, they can be far more intense sometimes in ways that some would describe as Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

It’s important to remember that our bodies are meant to respond to seasonal changes. Moving with the rhythm of the year—rather than resisting it—can be deeply supportive. Before the Industrial Revolution, people naturally structured their days around daylight. Today, living in a world of artificial light can disconnect us from our natural signals, making it harder to honour what our bodies are asking for. When energy dips and fatigue creeps in, it may be a sign to slow down. Allowing yourself to do less and rest more is a powerful act of self-kindness. This idea of embracing a slower, quieter season is beautifully explored by Katherine May in her book Wintering.

If we stay open to them, Autumn and Winter can also offer small glimmers of joy: cosy evenings with a hot chocolate by the fire; the sparkle of frost on leaves during a cold morning walk; time carved out for reading, crafting, baking, or journaling. Wonder is often right in front of us—we’re just moving too fast, or feeling too overwhelmed, to notice.

If you’re feeling especially low, isolated, or disconnected, it might be time to lean more intentionally into self-care and seek support from friends, family, or a therapist. And if you know this season tends to be difficult, consider planning ahead to soften the months ahead.

Gentle Ways to Care for Yourself This Winter
❄ Gentle movement: Try 10 minutes of yoga, stretching, or Qi Gong each day
❄ Creativity: Keep an art journal or sketchbook, experiment with new recipes, or start a small craft project
❄ Connection: Arrange check-ins with a friend, join a class or local group, volunteer over Christmas, or reach out to a therapist
❄ Realistic expectations: Let go of non-essentials; this may be a season for rest, reflection, and reset—not high productivity
❄ Comforts: Hot baths, soft blankets, candles, soothing playlists, warm drinks
❄ Mantras to return to:
• This is a season; it will not last forever.
• I have been here before.
• There will be easier moments.
• Others also struggle. I’m not alone.

If you’d like support as you move through this season, please feel free to get in touch to book a session. You may also find some of my therapeutic resources helpful—visit my Etsy store at creativesoulstherapy.etsy.com.

Hands up if you identify with the following:

• You zone out when in a large group of people or in a crowded place
• You feel exhausted after superficial conversations with lots of people
• You have vivid or frightening dreams after watching a high-intensity or scary drama on T.V
• You hate feeling rushed, or put under pressure to make a decision
• You're easily startled by loud noises or sudden movements
• You hate wearing stiff or scratchy clothing
• You're really thrown by last minute changes or disruption to your schedule
• You've sometimes been labelled "shy"
• You are often moved to tears by a piece of art or music
• You get "hangry" when you've not eaten
• You notice the energy in a space, and feel other people's emotions deeply

If this is you all over, chances are you're a highly sensitive person- an HSP.  This term was coined in the 90's by Elaine Aron, and is used to describe those who are deeply sensitive- both physically and emotionally- to their external environments. 

When I first read Aron's book, The Highly Sensitive Person, it was both reassuring and affirming. I know that our cultural dependence on labels can at times be problematic, however, like so many of the neurodivergent clients I work with, I felt a great relief at finally being given a lens to through which to make sense of my experience of the world.

I think one of the biggest benefits of reading that book was that it gave me an understanding which, in turn, allowed me to be far more compassionate on myself. In the past, I've often blamed myself for wanting to leave a social gathering early, for getting irritable when hungry, or for being quiet around people I don't know. I came up with my own labels: unsociable, unfriendly, selfish... Now I know that I just fall into that 30% of the population with highly attuned nervous systems! 

My body is pretty good at telling me when I'm overstimulated, and I'm grateful to it. This can show up as headaches or pressure in my head, tension in my muscles, anxiety, feeling "wound-up", irritable or hyper. This is when I know I need to rest, take some time away from people, put my phone down. If I listen, I can recover pretty quickly, and get on with life.

I've also learnt that many of the things I like about myself- the ability to empathise with people, the creativity, the care for living beings- are down to this sensitivity. I'm in good company too; it's thought that Princess Diana, Jane Goodall, Van Gogh, Einstein, Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King were all HSPs! 

If you're an HSP reading this and wondering how to navigate the challenges inherent in being wired this way, I would recommend reading Aron's book. One of the main take-aways for me was that it isn't helpful to compare yourself to non HSPs. It's ok that I can't pack as much as they do into my week, and that I factor in rest and recovery time after socially demanding events. 

I think the thing that helps me to recover most quickly when fatigued, is spending time in nature. I can often actually feel my nervous system relax- my breath deepening, my muscles easing- when I'm amongst the trees or by a river or lake. Indeed, there's plenty of science to back this up. But you'll have your own go-to places or activities which help, and it's useful to know what these are. 

HSPs have a lot to offer to this world, if we can find the right balance. My parting challenge to you is to honour your sensitive nervous system and treasure this special gift. 

I am writing this blog just over a week after wildfires started ravaging Los Angeles, leaving a trail of destruction behind. It has been unusually dry in Southern California for this time of year, meaning that vegetation has been ready tinder in the face of intensely strong winds. Many people have lost their homes, and several have died.

It feels like this is just another extreme weather event to add to all the others regularly being reported on the news these days. If you pay any attention to what is going on in the world, it's difficult to ignore the fact that our climate is heating at an alarming rate. And yet, it feels like so many people ARE ignoring it. 

Of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg (an apt metaphor!), but I am not going to spend any more time spelling out the problems, as I imagine those reading this will be all too aware of the seriousness of the situation for the planet.

Neither am I here to try to make you feel better by downplaying the issues; the chances are that denial or minimisation by others around you, or those in power, has exacerbated your distress, making you feel more isolated in your concern. The anxiety you're feeling is a perfectly natural and logical response to threat and danger. I do, however, hope to shed some light on how to manage these feelings, and how to transform them into a force for positive change. 

We hear the terms climate anxiety (or eco-anxiety) used a lot, but I don't think this really captures the range of emotions people feel in response to the global heating catastrophe. I think it's very common for people to feel grief over the devastation they see and the loss of so many species. Anger and frustration are understandable emotions, when governments and corporations not only fail to take responsibility, but actually act in ways that perpetuate the problems. Guilt about living in ways that contribute to the problem, because it's impossible not to, and also of being somewhat removed from the immediate and most serious results of climate change. And fear, dread and powerlessness at watching the disaster unfold with such force and inevitability, whilst being unable to stop it. To better acknowledge this range of emotional phenomena, I prefer to use the term eco-distress, though somehow, as I write that down, I'm realising that maybe this is something too big for words. 

While some might say that it's best just to avoid thinking about this stuff and focus on the good things in life, I would argue that living as if these things aren't important to you, when actually they are, leads to a cognitive dissonance  that can be anxiety-inducing in itself. But how do you carry on caring without spiraling into deep despair? How do you continue to try to live in planet-friendly ways when it all feels like a tiny drop in the ocean, and there's a massive tsunami heading towards you (another fitting analogy?!). 

I think the trick is to hold the tension between despair and hope. A little like the dual process theory of grief, whereby the bereaved individual flits between mourning the devastating loss, and re-building their lives. The thing is to believe that your actions do matter, however small they are. Even if you never see their results. You may well be helping to open up opportunities for climate conversations or inspiring someone else to do their bit. Whether it's making little changes to your lifestyle, or taking part in larger-scale activism, it all counts. Taking action can help you to overcome the feelings of powerlessness, and living out your values allows you to feel more confident and authentic. 

Anxiety feels very isolating, so joining communities of like-minded people can help you to combat this. You are not alone, even if your immediate family and friends don't seem to get it. Rather than trying to have conversations where you get shut down, find spaces where your voice will be heard and taken seriously. There is solidarity in standing with others who share your beliefs and priorities- it can be hugely validating. 

Finally, don't shy away from the uncomfortable feelings. Instead, try to work through them. Therapy can be a good place to do this, and as a nature therapist who shares your concern for the planet, I may be able to offer you support. 

Resource List:
www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/how-to-cope-with-eco-anxiety.html
www.theguardian.com/wellness/2023/nov/16/climate-anxiety-tips
​www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m00050qr

You may have heard therapists talk about the inner child, and wondered what on earth they meant. Put simply, it's a part of you that holds your early childhood experiences, including memories, emotions, fears and dreams. We all have a child self within us, but it is often outside of our conscious awareness. Despite this, it is very much alive, and likely to be in the driving seat during stressful or anxious moments. 

You have probably had moments where something made you cry like a baby, have a tantrum like a toddler, or feel like a frightened child, and noticed feeling younger than your actual age? You are responding as you did when you were a child, because that part has been triggered. 

So why, as adults, are we still so impacted by our child self? Some may say we should just grow up and use our rational adult mind to reason our way out of this immature outburst. Yet this just serves to supress the child, who is trying to tell us something important. There is often some unresolved issue, or trauma that needs to be attended to. It may be that you were not heard and empathised with by your own caregivers, and so the child is crying out for that care and attention from you now. 

In therapy, engagement with this child part is referred to as inner child work. With support, you can learn how to listen to this child with curiosity and compassion, rather than shutting them down, which only reinforces feelings such as rejection, worthlessness and despair that came from being judged or disregarded as a child. Instead of shaming the child, you are offering empathy and validating the reactions they had to their experiences. By doing this, you are re-parenting your child part, allowing them to become a fully integrated component of the whole self. 

Here are some pointers which may help you engage positively with your inner child: 

• When you find yourself reacting to a situation in a very emotional way, try to affirm that it is ok to feel what you are feeling. Ask your child what they need in order to feel comforted and to be able to deal with the situation. 
• When the inner critic (internalised parent or other significant authority figure) pipes up with things like "stop being so weak- pull yourself together", notice and gently challenge this narrative. 
• If you have your own children, or there are children in your life who you are close to, think about how you might treat them when they are upset. What do they need in that moment? Can you offer a similar response to your own inner child? 
• Think about what has triggered the child part to react. Do you notice a pattern of particular people or situations that evoke this response? Is there something about these instances that reminds you of your childhood experiences? Is there material to be processed from the past?
• The inner child also holds the key to joy, playfulness and creativity. By re-connecting with the child, you can get in touch with these aspects of your personality again, which may have been subdued over the years, particularly if they received disapproval.  Try doing activities you used to love as a child, or try out new fun things! Children tend to approach the world in a less inhibited way than adults, so allowing yourself to let go of the need to be neat, tidy, or do something "well" can help! 
• Try therapy, or reflective exercises such as journaling to help you with your inner child work. 

I rarely come away from time spent in nature without some new thought or insight. But this only happens when I slow down and observe my surroundings- and put my phone away! Nature is a great teacher, if we let it be. 

Seasons
In the UK, we have felt the shift from summer to Autumn pretty dramatically over the past few weeks, with the drop in temperature and the dark nights drawing in. 

The changing seasons can teach us so much. I have learnt to pay attention to the way my body and mind respond to the seasons. For instance, Summer has typically been associated with rest and leisure for me, so I try to make time for travel, fun activities and spending time with people. Conversely, Autumn brings a nostalgic sense of excitement that always came with starting a new term of school, or starting university. I still get that increased energy and excitement to begin new things at this time of year, so I try to harness that. 

The seasons can also be a good metaphor to help us understand and embrace our own seasons of life, whether that is the natural cycles our bodies experience, or the different life ages and stages. There can also be emotional seasons, such as a period of grieving, or a time of great joy and excitement. We know seasons don't last forever, so we learn to inhabit them for their duration. 

Flow
Nature is always in process, always evolving and adapting to environmental factors. Being part of nature, this is equally true of us humans too. We are continually learning and finding ways to best survive our present conditions. As Carl Rogers, Father of the Person-centred approach, put it: 

“a person is a fluid process, not a fixed and static entity; a flowing river of change, not a block of solid material; a continually changing constellation of potentialities, not a fixed quantity of traits.”

This gives us a lot of hope, because we can often make changes-subtle or drastic- to our environment  to give ourselves the best chance to thrive. This might mean leaving an oppressive relationship or community, or seeking the support of someone who believes in and encourages us, to help us better cope with difficult situations that we can't change. 

When we observe nature, we notice a continual ebb and flow. A push-pull of opposites: day and night, wet and dry, movement and stillness. It feels like there is a constant battle going on between the elements, yet it does not feel hostile. Rather, it feels that each has their moment, each as important as the other. This creates a kind of rhythm- a dance. This reminds us of our own experience of life: the feast and famine, times of plenty and times of scarcity, times of gratitude and times of longing. 

Struggle
Despite how calm nature can appear on the surface, each species' fight for survival is real, and sometimes brutal; nature red in tooth and claw. This struggle reminds us of our own, that is an inevitable part of growth and change. 

Diversity
One of the most beautiful things about nature, in my opinion, is the great diversity of species. The sheer number of varieties of plants and animals  co-existing and supporting one another within complex and finely balanced ecosystems.  

This speaks to our own diversity, within the human species. There are things  common to all humankind; this gives us a sense of belonging and connectedness. Yet difference is also something to be celebrated and embraced. 

It feels like it's been a long time coming, but Summer is most definitely here! The sun seems to bring us all out of our shells, and suddenly there is a buzz of life and activity, which can lift our spirits and make us feel a bit more sociable.

That said, the Summer can bring its own set of challenges which might impact people's mental health. So let's consider what these are and how we might navigate them.

Summer is the season of events, with everything from festivals, to fairs, to family fun days. If you use social media platforms, it's likely you're bombarded with advertised events, and with so much choice, this can be a bit overwhelming!

If we're not careful, we can buy into the idea that to be an interesting or likeable person, we have to do as much as possible. Cram our lives with as much activity as we can. But in reality, this can leave us tired and with no down-time to properly rest. What's more, many of these events cost money, and in a cost-of-living crisis, that can put a lot of pressure on families who are just trying to get by. 

On a similar note, many people live for the next dream holiday, building it up as an idyllic escape- an opportunity to finally relax and indulge. Again, these holidays can be expensive and are perhaps not always as perfect as we'd hoped. I'm not trying to paint a negative picture here; holidays are a lovely treat, they're just not necessarily going to provide that silver bullet when it comes to day-to-day mental health and wellbeing (IMO!). 

For people who experience social anxiety, or have strained relationships with family, an increase in the number of invitations to social functions- bbqs, weddings, parties- might feel very difficult. Similarly, loss and unfulfilled dreams can make those social get-togethers particularly painful. 

Those with children might feel daunted at the prosect of the sprawling summer holidays: how to keep the kids occupied and entertained, especially if you're not feeling too great? Conversely, people who are quite isolated may feel loneliness more intensely if groups or classes they normally attend take a break over the summer. 

Obviously all of these things are part of the ebb and flow of life, but here are some things to consider that might make it all a little easier. 

1) Planning: thinking ahead about what you might like to do over the summer, and budgeting for this, might help to find the right balance of busyness and cost. Who and what are your priorities? It's ok to say no to other invitations. 

2) Boundaries: it's ok to limit the amount of time or money you spend on things, and to be firm about this with others (even if they don't understand). 

3) Self-care: plan to do some things that "fill your cup". What brings you joy, inspiration, excitement? What helps you properly relax? Could you go on a retreat, have a day at the beach, or spend a day reading in the garden? 

4) Less is more: holidays or days out don't need to be expensive or extravagant. If you have kids, they will enjoy time spent with you more if you are able to be present, not stressing over cost or time schedules. 

I realise everyone is different and facing their own challenges; you may not feel the issues raised here apply to you, or perhaps there are other difficulties in your life that are not mentioned here. Either way, I hope you find some time to slow down and unwind this summer.