It finally happened yesterday. I made my first soup of the season – the chopping, roasting, seasoning and blitzing was so enjoyable and calming. A hot bowl of pumpkin soup, is there a better way to welcome autumn than this?
There’s something so comforting about hunkering down on a cold day – for me that meant a morning reading The Folk of the Faraway Tree, drying laundry in front of the heater and pulling up the drawbridge on the outside world, except to peek at Facebook and Instagram occasionally.
Mid-afternoon I turned on my ‘Christmas’ lights – to me they’re more cosy-makers than festive bulbs, and I sat in my little rented house, on my lovely green couch, happy to be ensconced in my warm home, Blyton characters alive again in my imagination, soup on the stove – just me, recharging, and loving every minute of it.
It’s funny to think that I was once the girl that didn’t like being alone, who always needing to be in the thick of the action. I think a lot of that was a seriously bad case of FOMO, combined with not really knowing myself, which I could keep at bay by being a social butterfly.
Fast forward several decades….
Now I crave my own company, especially when I’m working with people who are draining, or after a few social outings. In fact, I declined what would have been a great outing over the weekend, because I already had several things on the calendar, and I am much more in tune with my limits and capacity for being the life of the party these days. Don’t worry, I can still throw down, but it has to be balanced with lots of solo time.
I think autumn is a season that really suits introverts – there’s something about the weather changing, lighting the fire or cranking up the heater, staying home more, even the way we eat, that seems very different to the outdoorsy, sociable days of summer, which seem to be an extrovert’s paradise.
Though I usually buck labels and their limitations, I’m happy with this ‘label’ of being an introvert. I’m also happy to confound people who think introverts can’t ever be sociable, or aren’t vibrant and funny. I’m all of those things, and much more.
So, whoever you are, whatever labels you wear, I hope you feel good about them, that you can embrace them, make them a pot of soup and love them.
I’ve missed you autumn. I’m so glad to see you again.
What’s your favourite thing about autumn?