The leaves are turning,
But my heart stands still
And ever green.
I found myself whispering this little poem to myself last fall, and now I keep repeating it like a mantra. Healing through change became a realisation I lived by, allowing me to grow in unforeseen ways. I don’t even know where it came from — but then again, I never really know how my poems make their way into this world.
They appear like falling leaves, landing softly on my palm. Just like my previous poem that I shared here did.
When Fall Meant Falling Apart
Fall has always been, for me, a time of actual falling, a soul-crushing season that used to bring me nothing but depression and despair. Yet, it is during these times that healing through change became a necessity.
I can’t fully explain it, but the moment September arrived, I’d start to feel mentally and emotionally paralyzed. The colder, shorter days didn’t help either. Year after year, this invisible monster that came alive every autumn grew stronger, and I began to fear it more and more.
Not just it, but myself, too.
As the nights grew longer and darker, I felt myself getting smaller, slowly losing my sense of self, and to be honest, my sanity. I might have a poetic way of expressing this, but the truth is, I was in desperate need of help.
And not only am I terrible at asking for it, but at that time, I had no one to turn to.
Three Falls Ago, Everything Changed
It’s been three years — or should I say, three falls ago — since something inside me shifted. Embracing change led to healing through transformations during this period.
I wish I could tell you that all the self-help books, meditations, and breathwork healed my traumas completely, and that now I’m some enlightened being floating peacefully through life. But that would be a lie.
I could also talk for hours about the self-help industry and how toxic it can be, especially when you’re vulnerable and searching for meaning. I’m not here to tell anyone how to live their life. There are moments when all we need is a little hope — a spark of faith that things can miraculously turn around — and that’s okay.
But it’s also important not to fall into the traps of self-proclaimed gurus and life coaches selling overpriced hope and illusions. Genuine connection and understanding are crucial for healing through change.
There were books that helped me see things differently. Meditation still grounds me and helps me connect to deeper parts of myself. But nothing healed me more than actually living — experiencing life in new ways, pushing myself out of isolation, creating new pathways in my mind, and finding people who are good for my soul.
Choosing to Live
My anxiety and depression once convinced me that I was safer alone. But what truly transformed me was healing through change by feeling connected — to people, to the world, to life itself.
Healing, I’ve learned, doesn’t happen in hiding and isolation, behind the walls we built to protect ourselves from getting hurt.
It happens in living.
I was lucky. I found therapy. I met people who were good for my soul. And three Octobers ago, love found me — the most healthy, gentle, and healing love I’ve ever known. It changed everything.
Falling, differently
Today, autumn is my favorite season. It signifies healing through aspects of change, transforming my perspective deeply.
It’s still a time of falling, but now, it’s falling in love:
With myself, with the world, with everything life has to offer.
My soul used to break during this time of year when everything seemed to be dying. I couldn’t see that this, too, was part of life’s miracle — its endless cycle of death and rebirth.
Today, fall is no longer a season of grief for me, but one of deep reflection, touched by a dash of sweet nostalgia. And I suppose that’s why autumn is that time of the year when I feel the most inspired to write.
Becoming often means letting go
I used to hate when people told me I’d changed. Healing through change made me realize that it meant growth, not betrayal. I thought it meant I had done something wrong, that by not meeting their expectations, I had betrayed them and myself. But now, I think I’d fear more if someone told me I stayed the same.
Just like nature, we are meant to transform. Life is a long process of letting go, relearning, and renewing — becoming who we truly are at our core.
And that, I believe, is the only thing that should remain untouched: the true essence of our soul.
Maybe this season, take a quiet walk beneath the turning leaves. Listen to what they whisper — about change, about letting go, about starting again. And if these words find you where you need them, I hope they remind you that even through every ending, something within you remains beautifully alive.
What does autumn mean to you? 🍂
To me, it’s a reminder not to be afraid of the falling leaves — or of what we lose while we grow — because as long as our roots stay strong and grounded, we will remain evergreen.