Abundance

There’s a moment, right when the seasons begin to shift, when the air feels thick with possibility—like the world is holding its breath before something extraordinary. Summer’s last warmth still clings to the air, but there’s a crispness creeping in, a whisper that change is coming. It’s in the golden leaves that begin to drift from the trees, in the way the sky blushes earlier each evening, in the quiet urgency of animals gathering, preparing for what’s next. It’s a time when life feels full, almost overflowing, as if the earth itself is trying to remind us that we are part of something grand, something endless.

I can’t help but feel this deep sense of abundance as I watch the world shift around me. It’s like life is inviting me to look closer, to see the wealth that’s already here. The richness isn’t in things we can hold—it's in the way the wind feels against my skin, the way the light dapples through the trees, the way laughter carries on cooler air. It’s in the way everything seems to be moving toward a new beginning, like the universe is quietly reshaping itself right before my eyes.

As the days grow shorter and the nights a little longer, I feel this pull inside me, this call to slow down and take stock of all that’s been given to me. It’s like life is saying, “Look around—see how much you already have.” And I do. I see it in the people who have held me up, in the love I’ve been lucky enough to share, in the small, beautiful moments that make up my days. I feel it in the ways I’ve grown and stretched, in the ways I’ve learned to carry myself through storms I thought I’d never survive.

I am filled with a sense of gratitude so big, it feels like it might burst out of me. It’s gratitude for the mistakes that taught me, the heartbreaks that opened my heart wider, the quiet mornings and restless nights that shaped who I am becoming. It’s a gratitude that sees the abundance in everything, even in the cracks and imperfections, even in the things that didn’t go according to plan.

And as I stand on the edge of this new season, this new phase of life, I feel ready. Ready to embrace whatever comes next, ready to gather up all that this time of change has to offer. There is a deep, comforting knowledge inside me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, that this season—like all the others—will bring its own kind of magic, its own kind of lessons. I know that life doesn’t promise to be easy, but it does promise to be full, to be rich with experience and connection if we just dare to open ourselves up to it.

So I am leaning into this abundance, letting it wash over me. I am letting go of the fear that there won’t be enough, the fear that life will take more than it gives. I am choosing to believe that just like the trees, I can shed what no longer serves me, make room for the new, and trust that there will be enough light, enough warmth, even as winter approaches. I am choosing to believe that I am enough, that this life is enough, and that together, we are more than enough.

Because the beauty of this season isn’t just in the change; it’s in the realization that there is so much more to come. That even as one chapter closes, another is waiting to unfold, richer and fuller than before. And in this moment, with the world transforming around me, I am ready to embrace it all. I am ready to gather up this abundance with open hands, ready to carry it into whatever comes next. Because life is abundant. And so am I.