Episode Summary: As the clocks fall back and the days grow shorter, Susan Morgan Bailey reflects on the energy she's spent resisting fall and winter—and what has begun to change. Through seasonal observations, circadian rhythms, and her own experience of slowing down, she explores what it might mean to live a little more in rhythm with the natural world.
Episode Description
What if some of the energy we spend resisting change could be better spent learning to move with the natural rhythms of life?
We've just fallen back to Standard Time, and the earlier darkness has me thinking about my relationship with the changing seasons. I've always loved summer's long days and warmth, but lately I've been noticing how much energy I've spent wishing fall and winter away.
In this solo walking reflection, I explore what happens when the rhythms of our bodies and the natural world collide with the expectations of modern life. I consider why Standard Time is more closely aligned with our circadian biology, how plants and animals respond to changing seasons, and what we might be forgetting about our own nature when we expect ourselves to keep producing at the same pace year-round.
I also share how my relationship with fall and winter has been changing, from discovering the pleasures of cold-weather walks to slowing down enough to play with fallen leaves. And I reflect on the exhaustion I've witnessed and experienced in a culture that often leaves little room for rest and recovery.
This isn't about abandoning our responsibilities or adding another expectation to our lives. It's about giving ourselves a little grace, paying attention to what the moment calls for, and considering where we might move a little closer to our own natural rhythms.
Key Themes
Resisting the seasons. How the stories we tell ourselves about fall, winter, and change can shape our experience of them.
Our bodies have rhythms, too. The relationship between light, darkness, circadian biology, and the ways we've organized modern life.
We are creatures, too. What the varied seasonal patterns of plants and animals remind us about our place in the living world.
The expectation of constant productivity. The human cost of expecting ourselves and others to operate at the same pace without sufficient recovery.
Noticing rather than forcing. Making room for rest, play, and attention without turning natural rhythms into another obligation.
Key Takeaways
Changing the clocks doesn't change the amount of daylight. Standard Time is generally more closely aligned with the sun's natural cycle and our circadian biology.
Resistance can consume energy without changing the circumstances we're resisting. Sometimes the story we're telling ourselves deserves a closer look.
Nature doesn't operate at one constant pace. Growth, dormancy, migration, preparation, and recovery are all part of living systems.
Recognizing our natural rhythms doesn't mean ignoring real-world responsibilities. Small adjustments may be more realistic—and more useful—than sweeping changes.
Slowing down can create opportunities to notice what's already happening around us, including moments of curiosity and play.
“Maybe living in rhythm involves paying attention to what the moment calls for.”
Susan Morgan Bailey
Resources Mentioned
The Pleasures of Presence — ROOTED: A Podcast About Nature & Wellbeing
An earlier solo episode featuring a sensory practice Susan learned during her forest therapy guide training, including an invitation to listen for the rhythm of the place you're in.
Connect with Susan Morgan Bailey
Website: https://www.rootedsoulliving.com/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/susanmbailey/
Reflection Prompt
What rhythm might you be resisting, and what could change if you gave yourself permission to move with it, even just a little?
Prefer to read? The full transcript is below.
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Susan:
Welcome to ROOTED, a podcast about nature and wellbeing. I'm Susan Morgan Bailey.
Each episode, we explore what nature can teach us about being human in an increasingly artificial world. Together with researchers, practitioners, leaders, and everyday explorers, we examine how reconnecting with nature can help us remember something that has always been true.
We are nature.
We belong.
And we are already whole.
Today I'm walking solo. I've been thinking about rhythms.
We've just fallen back to Standard Time here in the United States. And that means it's getting darker earlier. And people have feelings about this. Lots of feelings.
Some people love having more light in the morning. Others would rather have that extra daylight at the end of the day. And I get it.
Historically, I've been a summer person. I love the long days, the warmth, the sunshine, the freedom of being outside well into the evening. I've never been particularly enthusiastic about watching summer come to an end.
But lately, I've been noticing something about my relationship with the changing seasons.
I've spent a lot of energy resisting them.
And that has me thinking about the rhythms of nature, the rhythms of our bodies, and what happens when the world we've created doesn't necessarily align with either.
The Rhythm of the Sun
Here's something interesting about the time change.
We just returned to Standard Time, which is actually more closely aligned with the natural cycle of the sun. Under Standard Time, noon is generally closer to when the sun reaches its highest point in the sky. Daylight Saving Time shifts our clocks forward, giving us more daylight by the clock in the evening.
Of course, changing the clocks doesn't change the amount of daylight.
The sun keeps doing what the sun does.
We're the ones moving the numbers around.
And research suggests that Standard Time is generally better aligned with our circadian biology. Our bodies naturally respond to light and darkness. Morning light helps synchronize our internal clocks, and darkness helps signal that it's time to prepare for sleep.
But we've created a world where we can manipulate our environments to almost completely ignore those signals.
We can turn on the lights, turn up the heat, keep working, keep shopping, keep going.
We can make almost any hour feel like daytime.
But our bodies haven't stopped responding to the rhythms of day and night.
A Different Relationship with the Seasons
For years, when fall arrived, I found myself resisting it.
Summer was over, the days were getting shorter, winter was coming. And winter? Well, I wasn't much of a fan of that either.
But something has been shifting for me.
I've been intentionally practicing a different relationship with the seasons. Instead of focusing on what I'm losing when summer ends, I've been trying to notice what each season offers.
And I've discovered that fall is actually pretty wonderful. There's a beauty to the changing colors, the cooler air, the way the landscape transforms.
And winter? I had a realization recently that winter doesn't completely suck.
For one thing, I've discovered that being outside in winter can be absolutely delightful. I just need the right layers.
Seriously, having the right clothing and gear changes the experience entirely.
There's something magical about walking outside on a cold winter day. The quiet, the way the light looks, the shape of the bare trees.
And I've been thinking about what winter represents. Nature represents rest, slowing down, a different kind of activity.
Not everything in nature is growing and producing and blooming all year long.
Why do we expect ourselves to do that?
And here's the other thing I've realized.
When fall arrives, I can spend my energy wishing it was still summer. When the days get shorter, I can complain about the darkness. When winter arrives, I can spend months waiting for spring.
But none of that changes the season.
It just changes my experience of it.
I realized I've spent a lot of energy fighting something that's simply part of the natural rhythm of life.
Now, I'm not suggesting we should accept everything without question. There are plenty of things worth challenging and changing.
But there's a difference between taking action to change something we can influence and exhausting ourselves resisting something that simply is.
And I wonder whether some of our discomfort comes not from the season itself, but from the story we tell ourselves about it.
Winter is miserable. Darkness is depressing. Shorter days mean less freedom.
What if those aren't the only stories available to us?
We Are Creatures, Too
We sometimes talk about nature as though it's something separate from us.
We observe the animals, we admire the trees, we watch the seasons change.
But we are nature.
We are creatures, too.
And throughout the living world, organisms respond to rhythms.
Some animals migrate, some hibernate. Some become less active while others are preparing for the season ahead.
Trees have cycles of growth and dormancy. Many plants respond to changing day length, and humans are no exception.
We have circadian rhythms that influence our sleep, alertness, hormone activity, metabolism, and other physiological processes.
And yet we've built a culture that often seems to expect the same level of energy and productivity every day of the year.
Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, 365.
As though we should always be available, always be producing, always be moving forward.
And I see the cost of that expectation in the individuals and organizations I work with. I've personally experienced it myself.
I see people who are exhausted, teams that are stretched thin, organizations that keep pushing for more without necessarily creating the conditions people need to recover and thrive.
What are we forgetting about our own nature when we expect ourselves to operate this way?
Noticing the Rhythms Around Us
So, thinking about this and expanding out a little further, I invite you to consider something along with me.
What is the natural world doing right now?
Maybe you're walking outside, maybe you're sitting by a window.
And I wonder, what do you notice?
What's resting? What's still growing? What's moving? What's preparing for what is next?
Maybe the trees are losing their leaves. Maybe the squirrels are busy gathering food. Maybe birds are migrating.
There isn't just one rhythm happening out there.
There are all kinds of rhythms unfolding at the same time.
Well, it's not just the seasons. There's the rhythm of tides, phases of the moon, cycles of sleeping and waking, activity and recovery.
Life is full of rhythms.
And maybe living in rhythm involves paying attention to what the moment calls for.
If you find yourself having a hard time noticing what's happening around you, or even noticing what your body might be telling you, there's a practice I'd invite you to explore.
In an earlier ROOTED episode called The Pleasures of Presence, I guide you through a practice I learned during my forest therapy guide training.
It's an invitation to slow down and experience the world through your senses.
At one point, I actually invite you to listen for the rhythm of the place you're in.
And if you haven't listened to that episode, or it's been a while, I invite you to revisit it.
Perhaps before we can begin living more in rhythm with the natural world, we need to practice noticing the rhythms that are already there.
Finding Our Own Way
Before I wrap this episode, I want to acknowledge something.
As I shared earlier, we live in a world that isn't necessarily designed around natural rhythms.
We have clocks and calendars and schedules. We have jobs, families, and responsibilities. We have artificial light that allows us to extend our days.
And our modern world doesn't necessarily make it easy to honor the natural rhythms.
I recognize we can't all just decide to go to bed earlier or rest because winter is here.
And with that, I think that's where we need to give ourselves some grace.
Considering natural rhythms and how they might impact our lives and how we might live more in alignment with them isn't about creating another expectation for ourselves, another thing we're supposed to do to be healthier and happier.
Maybe it's simply about asking, where could I move a little closer to a natural rhythm?
Could I say yes to fewer things this winter?
Could I protect 30 minutes a day for rest that I might otherwise fill with something else?
Could I take a walk outside and actually notice the changing leaves?
Could I slow down enough to be present with what's happening around me rather than rushing through it?
I've been playing with this myself recently, intentionally slowing down my walks, walking as I used to walk with my dog, taking a pause here and there to notice something.
And sometimes I even play little games with fallen leaves, trying to avoid stepping on a leaf or doing the opposite.
And I catch myself thinking, what are you doing? You are a grown woman.
But then I think, why not?
When did it become something we need to justify taking a break to play?
And maybe sometimes I can get more connected with that rhythm by taking a walk without doing anything else and just being open to the possibilities.
Closing Reflection
So as you walk today, I leave you with one question.
What rhythm might you be resisting?
And what could change if you gave yourself permission to move with it, even just a little?
Thank you for walking with me.
If this conversation resonated with you, I'd be honored if you'd subscribe to ROOTED so we can continue exploring together. And if you know someone who's sensing something's missing, someone who might need to hear this, please share this episode with them.
Buen Camino, friends. Until we meet again.
