Autumn - the season of Letting go

Autumn is my favourite time of year.

The Autumn colour fills my heart with joy — deep burgundies, bright reds, iridescent oranges, golden yellows, and the soft browns that form the backdrop to the vibrant autumn blooms. Nature is doing what it always does, presenting a gift, showing us where we are at if we are willing to look.

You can hear it too. The gentle rustle underfoot as you walk through the dry, fallen leaf litter of the Plane trees, Maples, Elms, Ash trees and Oaks.

As the days shorten and it begins to cool, the air becomes crisp, carrying a deeper silence. There’s that moment in the stillness when you hear the soft tink as the leaf detaches from its branch and finally lets go. Not forced. Just… releasing.

There’s a downward, dry, inward quality to this season. After the outward energy of Summer, everything begins to draw back. This is the Metal element — contraction, refinement, clarity, letting go of what’s no longer needed.

Before the leaf falls, the tree draws the nutrients back in. Nothing wasted. Just a quiet return to centre, expressed in a final vibrant burst of colour. The leaf then softens into the earth, slowly returning its remaining nutrients to the soil, feeding the life it once grew from, becoming a natural mulch — protecting, insulating, and nourishing what lies below.

Here in Melbourne, the Wurundjeri people recognise this time as Biderap — the dry season — when the land begins to draw inward as the heat softens. The eels make their way downstream, following their own ancient rhythm of movement and return. The gums shed their bark, like the Manna and Candlebark, peeling back their outer layers to reveal something tender, yet spectacular beneath. It’s a season of quiet transition, where the energy of the land shifts from outward expression to a gentle returning — echoing the same cycle of release, renewal, and subtle change that we feel within ourselves.

Like the tree, we draw in what we need, and when the time comes, we let go of what we no longer need to carry — the bark, our outer protective shell, and the leaves, representing what we’ve gathered and expressed, now ready to be released. What remains are the quiet lessons, returned inward, shaping who we become. And as the eels make their way downstream, there is a quiet instinct to follow — a natural pull to move with the current, trusting where it leads.

In the body, this shows up through the breath and through the tissues — especially the fascia. If you’ve been feeling tight, restricted, or in a holding pattern, through the practice of yoga we can find release. Slow flow and yin support this process beautifully. We move with less force, giving the body — and the fascia — time to soften, release, and reorganise, rather than push. Longer holds, softer edges allow the fascia to respond and rehydrate. Let the exhale lengthen. Let things drop and be released.

Towards the end of Summer, the stars and the night sky saw us moving through a strong Aries phase - a “stellium” or loud cluster of planets invoking a surge of fire, momentum, and forward energy, with so much concentrated in that space. It’s been about action, movement, and initiation. But as some of these planetary energies begin to shift — with Uranus moving into Gemini — there’s a change in quality. Uranus likes to shake things up and bring new perspectives. Gemini, symbolised by the twins, brings awareness, thought, and reflection — a kind of mirroring of self.

And this is where Autumn meets us perfectly. As the pace softens and things draw inward, we’re given the space to pause, to observe, and to see ourselves more clearly.

We’ve also just moved through the Scorpio full moon on the 1st May, carrying that deeper energy of birth, life, death, and rebirth — a reminder that nothing is static, everything is part of a cycle. You can feel this in the body, in the breath, and in the natural rhythm of letting go and beginning again.

Reflecting on the chakras through Autumn, the base chakra asks us to ground — like the fallen leaves and bark returning to the earth, luring us back to our foundations, to feel supported, and to “tend to the soil”. The heart chakra softens what we’ve been holding, especially as the colours of Autumn land so deeply when we take them in. The throat chakra gives space for expression and release — what’s ready to be said, or simply exhaled. And as things begin to clear, the third eye chakra brings a quiet clarity — a deeper seeing that comes not from doing more, but from doing less, from letting go.

Nature provides what we need to feed and nourish our physical bodies, and we often find ourselves naturally drawn to eating what’s in season. But it’s more than just physical — food feeds the soul too, through taste, warmth, and the simple sensory experience of eating. Like the colours of the autumn leaves — pumpkin, sweet potato, beets, carrots, apples, pears, and citrus — these foods offer moistening, nourishing, and grounding qualities. Warm, cooked meals — soups, broths, roasted vegetables — gently support this transition. They feel regulating and nurturing, like your body remembering something it didn’t know it had forgotten.

Enjoy long walks in nature, taking in the colour show on offer. Go barefoot on the grass and soak up the autumn sun. Meet your body and nervous system where they are each day — with earlier nights, softer rhythms, and a natural slowing down.

Autumn isn’t about loss, it’s about clarity, contraction, and transformation. It’s about letting things fall away so what remains is real, simple, and true — like the tree standing bare, revealing its structure, form, strength, vulnerability and quiet inner wisdom.

Namaste Yogis

By Georgia Karstens

Yogi & Lightworker