Harvest is done in Napa Valley. The grapes are in, the vines are turning gold, and the land can finally rest. I’ve been thinking about how rarely I give myself that same permission.
Fall Is My Busy Season
Over the last few years, I’ve noticed a pattern. Fall is when I do my most work. Something about the cooler mornings and the end of summer travel season gets me moving, and I tend to say yes to more.
This year has been no exception. I’ve added classes to my teaching schedule. I’m coaching Girls on the Run, which means afternoons on a field with a group of girls who have more energy than I’ll ever have. This week I’m also working the elections, which is its own kind of long day. My calendar has been full in a way which seems good, and also just full.
What Used to Come After
For a long time, the end of a busy season didn’t feel like rest. It felt just like waiting for a verdict. Did the class fill? Did the girls get what they needed? Did any of it matter? I’d finish the work and keep carrying it, measuring, replaying, planning how to do it better next time. The effort ended, but the gripping didn’t.
Kritakritya
In Sanskrit there’s a word for what I’ve been learning instead: kritakritya. It means “I have done what was to be done, and now I am content.” It appears in chapter 15 of the Bhagavad Gita, a text that returns again and again to the idea of acting fully without clinging to the fruits of the action.
That’s the shift I’ve noticed in the last few years. When the rush is over, I let it be over. I showed up, I did my part, and the results aren’t mine to hold. The contentment doesn’t depend on how things turn out. It comes from knowing I showed up and did what was mine to do.
The Pause After the Exhale
This fall my yin series has focused on the lung meridian, which Traditional Chinese Medicine connects to autumn, grief, and letting go. Spending so much time with the breath has given me a simple picture of kritakritya. After a full exhale, there’s a natural pause before the next inhale arrives. Nothing is being pushed out. Nothing is being pulled in. The release is complete.
Most of us rush through that pause, already grasping for the next breath, the next task, the next season. But the pause is where the rest lives.
An Invitation
As the year winds down, notice what you’ve already done enough of. Let a finished thing be finished. Take a few breaths and stay in the space after the exhale a little longer than feels natural.
And if you’re in a season where it’s hard to tell what’s yours to release, that’s work we can do together. Book a free consultation today.
