Mindful Miles

The crisp air of autumn has settled around us, painting the world in breathtaking hues. As I’ve laced up my shoes for my mindful miles each day, I’ve found myself captivated by the sheer artistry beneath my feet. The earth becomes a mosaic of fallen leaves—every shade of brown, rust, and fiery orange, each one a whisper of the season’s gentle release. They drift down, light and effortless, a soft surrender to the breeze.

But today, my path led me to a magnificent old acorn tree, and it offered a different, deeper kind of wisdom. This grand tree wasn’t just shedding its vibrant, weightless leaves. No, today it was letting go of its acorns too. I watched them fall, each one a sturdy, dense promise of a future forest, heavier than any single leaf. They dropped with a quiet thud, not a struggle, not a fight, but with the same serene acceptance as the lightest golden flutter. The tree wasn’t holding onto its heavy burdens any more than its light ones. It was releasing them all, making space.

And in that simple, powerful sight, a profound truth settled in my heart, carried on the autumn air: Just like that wise old tree, we too are called to shed. Not just the “light burdens” that seem to fall away easily—the small worries, the fleeting frustrations. But also the heavy acorns that cling stubbornly to our souls: the deep-seated anxieties, the lingering regrets, the weight of expectations.

This season isn’t just about endings; it’s a magnificent invitation to let go of it all, the light and the heavy. To trust in the rhythm of renewal. To release what no longer serves us, and with that beautiful, unburdened freedom, to step fully into the joy of new seasons and the fresh beginnings they promise.