October Check-In: Trying Again

I am back with an excuse, but also with a promise to write more about everything I have been meaning to share, explore, and create.

It is October now, which also happens to be my birthday month. Maybe that is why I have been feeling more introspective than usual. I have been thinking about how I spend my time, what I choose to focus on, and why it sometimes feels easier to drift than to build habits that last.

I completely lost my reading rhythm in September. This feels especially disappointing because I had just written about how different the month would be compared to my previous reading attempts. But a 20-degree drop in temperature, Covid lingering around the workplace, and shorter, heavier days filled with work have not exactly been the best recipe for reading or writing.

Ironically, all of those things should have encouraged me to lean into my cozy interests. The shorter nights, however, only left me with two hours to spend with my partner. Covid brought sick days, but they did not feel like time I could truly enjoy. And the cold weather made films far more enticing. Maybe, deep down, I have simply wanted less silence these past few weeks.

Still, this post is my way of holding myself accountable and tracking the habits I keep meaning to build but never quite manage to sustain. I read books the way I breathe air in summer, freely and instinctively, especially by the beach. That has always been the pattern with the things I love; they come easier when the world feels warm and open.

So this is my last public promise, at least for now, and my intention for October and for whatever remains of this year before 2026 arrives with new plans and expectations.

To begin, I want to actually enjoy autumn this time and acknowledge it instead of hiding from it. I have not left my home for anything outside of work in six weeks, and that needs to change.

I will be setting aside twelve hours of my weekends for words: reading them, writing them, and creating with them. The book club will return in November so that we can all share the excitement of a new book together. Hopefully, it will make the shift from autumn to winter a little sweeter for anyone who misses a sense of connection as the days grow shorter, people retreat, and we hide beneath layers of discomfort, relieved that at least no one can see it.

I am ready for this change. Tonight, I will be putting together my 12-hour read-a-thon pile and officially beginning a season of slowing down, of noticing the weeks instead of just surviving the days as they pass.