Wellness is Closer Than You Think
An Autumn Invitation to Return to What Sustains Us
We're a few weeks into autumn now. The autumnal equinox has passed, the days are growing shorter, and the natural world is settling into a different rhythm. I’ve decided to harvest the last of my kale and I’ve bedded down my garden (always a bittersweet time for me). Depending on where you live, the leaves may be changing colors, the mornings may be cooler, and you’re probably beginning to notice the subtle ways the season is inviting us to slow down. With October's new moon upon us, I've been thinking about what it means to begin again, not necessarily by doing something new, but by returning to the things that have always helped sustain us.
Autumn has a way of reminding us that change doesn't always require us to do more. Sometimes it asks us to do less, to pay attention to what is happening around us, and to consider what we might need as we move into a new season. And perhaps this is a good time to reconsider something we've perhaps come to accept about wellness: being healthy and well doesn't have to cost a lot of money.
We live in a culture where wellness has become something we're encouraged to purchase. Supplements and powders, fitness memberships, wearable devices, expensive retreats, meal delivery programs, and countless products promising to help us sleep better, feel younger, have more energy, or reduce stress. Now some of these things can certainly be helpful, and there's nothing wrong with using them when they serve us. But somewhere along the way, I think we've begun to associate taking care of ourselves with buying something, as though wellness is something we need to acquire rather than something we can cultivate. (In recent weeks, I’ve become increasingly aware of the allure of the number of Instagram ads that advertise products that will help me live to 100. This “buy something so you can be healthy” culture is real.)
I wonder what might happen if we began to think about wellness differently. What if, instead of asking what else we need to buy, we asked what we already have available to us? What if we looked at our kitchens, our neighborhoods, our daily routines, our relationships, and even the natural world around us as places where wellness can begin?
Finding Nourishment in the Ordinary
One of the things I often share with clients is that sustainable wellness doesn't necessarily begin with dramatic changes. More often, it grows from the small things we do consistently, especially those that fit naturally into the lives we're already living.
Think about the food we eat. We don't need expensive superfoods or specialty ingredients to nourish ourselves. Some of the most nutritious foods are also among the most familiar and affordable. Beans, lentils, oats, sweet potatoes, cabbage, carrots, apples, frozen vegetables, and whole grains can provide the foundation for meals that are satisfying, nourishing, and relatively inexpensive.
This time of year, I find something particularly comforting about preparing a pot of soup. My favorites these days are Turnip Greens with Smoked Turkey and Black Eyed Peas and Sweet Potato Soups. (If you’d like the recipes, send me a email - but know that it’s gonna cost you. :-)) There's a certain pleasure in chopping vegetables, adding herbs and spices, and allowing everything to simmer while the kitchen fills with wonderful aromas. A pot of vegetable and bean soup can provide several meals, and the ingredients don't have to be complicated. An apple with peanut butter, or roasted sweet potatoes with greens and beans can be just as nourishing as meals that require far more money and preparation.
We can also rediscover the herbs and spices already sitting in our pantries. Ginger, cinnamon, garlic, rosemary, and thyme can bring warmth and flavor to everyday meals. Growing a little mint or basil on a windowsill, if we have the space and light, can become a simple way to connect with the food we're preparing. And you know how much I love brewing teas. Even making a cup of tea and taking the time to enjoy it can become a small ritual of care.
Sometimes caring for ourselves begins with appreciating the ordinary foods that have sustained our families and communities for generations.
Moving Our Bodies Without Making It Another Expense
Movement is another area where we've come to believe that taking care of ourselves requires special equipment, a gym membership, or a structured fitness program. While those things may be enjoyable and helpful for some of us, movement can be much simpler.
We can walk around our neighborhoods, stretch while dinner is cooking or streaming our favorite show, dance to a favorite song, or spend a few minutes moving our shoulders, hips, and backs after sitting for much of the day. We can practice yoga in our living rooms, take the stairs when we're able, or simply stand up and move around more often. I’m now setting a timer for myself because it’s just too easy to sit for hours consumed by a project (or writing a blog post) and forget that I haven’t stood up for a while.
For those of us who spend much of our time working, caring for family members, or attending to the needs of others, movement can easily become another thing on an already crowded to-do list. But it doesn't have to be that way. We can begin to think of movement as an opportunity to reconnect with our bodies rather than another task to accomplish.
Perhaps that means taking a short walk after lunch or stretching for a few minutes before bed. Maybe it's putting on music and dancing while cleaning the kitchen. The point isn't to do everything or to move in a particular way. It's to discover forms of movement that feel good, are accessible to us, and can become part of our everyday lives.
Remembering Our Relationship With Nature
As a relational forest therapy guide, I'm continually reminded of how much the natural world has to offer us when we make time to notice it. We don't have to travel to a national park, go on an elaborate retreat, or purchase special outdoor equipment to experience a meaningful connection with nature.
We can sit beneath a tree, walk through a neighborhood park for Forest Preserve (if you live near Oak Park, I highly recommend visiting Thatcher Woods), spend time near water, or simply step outside and notice the air against our skin. We might watch the leaves change colors, listen to birds, observe the movement of clouds, or notice the way sunlight falls differently now than it did during the summer.
One of the things I appreciate about autumn is that the season makes change visible. Trees begin releasing their leaves, gardens move toward dormancy, and the natural world prepares for a period of rest. There's something reassuring about witnessing these changes and remembering that we, too, are part of nature. We have rhythms, seasons, and changing needs.
Time outdoors can support our well-being in ways that don't require us to accomplish anything. We don't need to count our steps or measure how far we've walked. Sometimes we can simply be present, allowing ourselves to experience the world through our senses.
And if getting outside isn't possible, we can still find small ways to connect with nature. Opening a window, tending to a houseplant, or sitting near natural light can help us pay attention to the world beyond our immediate chores and responsibilities.
Rest, Connection, and the Things We Cannot Buy
As the days grow shorter, I've also been thinking about rest and how difficult it can be to give ourselves permission to slow down. So many of us have spent years believing that being productive is a measure of our worth. We fill our days with work, family responsibilities, community commitments, and the countless things that need our attention. Even when we have an opportunity to rest, we may find ourselves thinking about what else we could be doing. Just this week I’ve noticed that my bedtime seems to be coming sooner than I want to wind down. And I still have stuff to do!
Yet rest is one of the most important ways we care for ourselves, and we don’t need to purchase anything. We can turn off our devices a little earlier, sit quietly for a few minutes, establish a more consistent bedtime, or give ourselves permission to have an evening without a long list of things to accomplish. Note to self.
I also think it's worth remembering that rest isn't always about sleeping. Sometimes rest means spending time with someone whose company makes us feel at ease. It might mean laughing with a friend, sharing a meal, listening to music, reading a book from the library, or simply enjoying a little time without having to respond to anyone's needs.
Our relationships are an important part of our wellness, too. We can become so focused on what we need to do for our physical health that we overlook the nourishment that comes from friendship, belonging, community, and feeling connected to others.
And while rest itself doesn't require money, I recognize that having the time and space to rest can be a privilege. For those balancing demanding jobs, caregiving, or financial pressures, finding even a few minutes can be difficult. That's one reason I believe wellness practices need to be flexible and grounded in the realities of our lives rather than in an idealized version of how we're supposed to live.
Creating Rituals With What We Already Have
Sometimes what we're looking for when we purchase another wellness product isn't really the product itself. We're looking for the promise of feeling better, more grounded, more rested, or more connected to ourselves. We're hoping that something new will help us create a routine that supports the way we want to feel.
But perhaps we can create those routines ourselves, using what we already have.
A morning ritual might begin with opening the curtains, drinking a glass of water, and sitting quietly for a few minutes before reaching for our phones. An evening ritual might include making a cup of tea, turning down the lights, and reflecting on how the day felt in our bodies. We might spend a few minutes writing in a journal, noticing when we felt energized, when we felt tired, or when we needed something we didn't give ourselves.
A weekend ritual could be as simple as preparing a few meals for the coming week, visiting a farmers market without feeling obligated to buy anything, taking a walk with a friend, or spending a quiet morning at home.
These aren’t particularly glamorous activities, and they probably won't appear in an advertisement promising to transform our lives in thirty days. But there's something meaningful about creating small rituals that remind us to care for ourselves.
Over time, these ordinary practices can become part of how we live rather than something we have to make room for.
An Invitation for This New Moon
The new moon is often viewed as a symbolic time for new beginnings and setting intentions. I like the idea of using this moment, as we settle more deeply into autumn, to consider what we'd like to nurture in ourselves during the months ahead.
Rather than creating another list of wellness goals or committing to an entirely new routine, perhaps we can begin with a little curiosity.
What is already working well in our lives? What simple practices help us feel nourished, rested, and connected? Are there things we've stopped doing that once brought us joy or helped us feel more grounded? And what might we be ready to release as we move toward the quieter months of the year?
Maybe this is the season to begin taking a short walk each morning, preparing more meals at home, or getting to bed a little earlier. Perhaps it's time to reconnect with an old friend, spend more time outdoors, or create a few moments of quiet in the middle of a busy day.
We don't have to make all these changes at once. In fact, I'd encourage us to choose just one or two things that feel accessible and meaningful. Experiment, pay attention to how we feel, and make adjustments along the way. There’s no perfect routine, and there’s no single way to experience wellness.
What matters is that we're creating a relationship with ourselves that’s rooted in care rather than pressure.
Returning to What Sustains Us
Perhaps one of autumn's greatest lessons is that nature doesn't constantly demand more. Trees release their leaves. Gardens become quiet. The light changes, and the natural world begins conserving energy for the seasons ahead.
We can learn something from that rhythm.
Wellness and wholeness aren't destinations reserved for those who can afford expensive products, memberships, or experiences. They’re part of an ongoing relationship with our bodies, our communities, and the world around us. And while good health is influenced by many things beyond our individual control, there are small ways we can care for ourselves within the circumstances of our lives.
As a reminder, sometimes that care looks like a warm bowl of soup, a walk beneath changing leaves, a good night's sleep, a conversation with someone we love, or a few quiet moments to notice how we're feeling.
As we move through October and into the colder months ahead, I hope we'll remember that we don't always need to add more to our lives to feel better. Sometimes the invitation is to simplify, reconnect, and appreciate what’s already available to us.
This autumn, let's consider what it might mean to spend less on wellness and invest more of our attention in the things that truly sustain us. Not because we need to become someone different, but because the person we are today is already worthy of care.
And perhaps that's a beautiful place to begin again.