The last days of November always feel quieter. The air is cooler, the sunlight softer, the rhythm slower. The rush of fall fades into something still — a breath before winter settles in.
I’ve been thinking about how this month has felt. A mix of waiting and gratitude, of healing and slowing down. November has always carried both for me — the ache of what hasn’t yet come and the beauty of what still is.
Lately, I’ve been practicing something simple: noticing.
The warmth of a mug in my hands.
The way evening light turns everything gold.
The comfort of routine — coffee, candles, journaling, quiet.
These small things have held me through the uncertainty, reminding me that peace isn’t only found when everything makes sense. Sometimes, it’s found in the ordinary — in the rhythm of showing up for yourself, again and again.
I’m ending this month without clear answers, but with a softer heart.
A little slower. A little gentler. A little more okay with not knowing.
Maybe that’s enough for now — to close November with gratitude for what’s here, and hope for what’s still on its way.
“And so she slowed, not because she had finished the race, but because she finally understood the beauty of the pause.” – Unknown