Finally it's October again! Autumn is slowly descending on the English countryside, colouring trees golden little by little. I'm excited to witness this wonderful season come into full swing and take you along with me on this journey!
🎃 Pumpkin loaf recipe:
300g pumpkin puree (either canned or cooked pumpkin or squash) 2 eggs 125g of sugar (I used 85g granulated & 40g dark brown sugar) 50g olive oil or melted butter 150g yoghurt or sour cream 235g plain flour 1tsp baking powder 1tsp baking soda 2 tsp cinnamon 1 tsp ground ginger 90g dark chocolate
If you're going to cook your own pumpkin - cut in half, remove seeds, place cut side down onto the baking tray drizzled with olive oil. Cook at 200C/ 390F until easily pierced with fork (about 1h).
Whisk 2 eggs with sugar, then add oil and whisk again. Add yoghurt and pumpkin puree and mix well. Sieve flour (I find that sieving makes fluffiest cakes), add baking powder, soda and spices and mix until well incorporated. Add 90g of chopped dark chocolate at the end. Use either a baking paper lined loaf tin or if using a decorated one like mine, coat it well with oil. Bake at 160C/ 320F for about 50 mins (Or insert a knife or toothpick to check and if it comes out clean then it's ready).
The speaker reflects on the arrival of October, celebrating the sensory joys of autumn and the season's capacity for retrospection. By embracing \"cheesy\" simple pleasures and shedding the old, the speaker explores the true meaning of slow living and being present, suggesting that mindfulness is not about perfect clarity, but about identifying and pursuing the small things that make one feel most alive.
Hello friend, I am so pleased to see you here again in October.
I know you are as pleased as I am to finally welcome Autumn,
the season of new endings and new beginnings.
And as much as I loved summer, as much as I try to appreciate each coming season,
there is an undeniable magic that's only present in Octobers.
I open the window to let the scent of Autumn in.
The sun is still warm, but the air is already crisp and earthy after the rain.
Trees are slowly turning yellow, golden leaves gently falling onto the ground.
I very excitedly took out my cozy blankets,
even though, quite frankly, it's still a bit too warm for them in the house,
and unpacked my Autumn clothes, tartan skirts and knit jumpers from the depth of my wardrobe.
I think sometimes us Autumn lovers have a very cheesy, naive sort of reputation.
But then I also believe that we, as oh-so-serious, burdened by worldly concerns humans,
are allowed to look forward to silly, cheesy, simple things, really.
As great as all the big, exciting life events are,
you can also, with an equal excitement,
look forward to the little things that you find genuinely enjoyable.
Yes, all the pumpkin spice everything,
and huge piles of Autumn leaves and pumpkin patches.
I look forward to my first cup of coffee in the morning,
as I watch my little world wake up around me.
And my last cup of herbal tea at night,
which I couldn't have all summer because it was too hot.
I look forward to seeing birds return to my garden again.
And I look forward to all the little trips I have planned,
which revolve around one thing only.
Watching the trees turn yellow and feeling the raindrops on my face.
Did I mention I'm going to Scotland again soon?
The home of my soul.
A place I'm so eager to return to.
We don't need extraordinary events to make us excited about life.
In fact, all the little things can be just as extraordinary,
and filled with lots of wonder.
Autumn to me is a season of deep retrospection.
It's a season of contrasts.
New endings followed by the new beginnings.
The eternal cycle of life.
The rebirth, the impermanence.
Suddenly it's October all over again,
and life is so different than it was last year.
As Virginia Woolf said,
for it was October, the birth of the year.
The more I think about it,
the more I realize that each October,
a new version of me suddenly appears,
and it's different to any previous version that walked this earth before.
I don't think this way about any other season.
Somehow it's only in autumn that change becomes so apparent to me.
Perhaps because it's only in autumn,
nature forces us to shed the old with this powerful kind of force.
You know, somehow it's autumn that sheds most powerful light on our past,
where we didn't quite seize the moment,
where we wasted a little too much time,
and makes it apparent how fast approaching future is,
how little time we really have,
how important it is to live right here, right now.
Okay, as someone who talks about slow living and being present in the moment a lot,
I feel like I have to be clear on some things.
What comes to your mind when someone tells you to be present?
To me, an image of someone meditating in an empty room
in a perfectly organized, quiet environment
with nothing but clarity in their heads comes to mind.
As with any advice, if we just take be present in isolation
and try to implement it in our own imperfect lives,
it might seem like a very unreasonable thing.
We look at snippets of other people's lives,
who all seem to have it figured out,
and think that we require all those unattainable prerequisites for a beautiful life.
You may look at my videos and think that way,
and I can assure you I may look at you and feel exactly the same.
Perhaps to understand what slow living and being present truly is,
we need to ask ourselves slightly different questions.
When do you feel most alive?
When does life feel most safe, happy and exciting to you?
When does your mind feel the calmest?
When do you feel fully lost in the moment, perhaps doing something you love?
Every single one of us will have a vastly different answer to each of these questions.
What being present means to me might mean something different to you,
but one thing is true.
None of us feel those things when we're ridden with anxiety over past or future,
when we're stuck in a trap of comparison,
when we're doomscrolling,
when we forget to notice all the beautiful little things going on around us.
Perhaps the way to be more present isn't a meditative retreat
or achieving the purest clarity of mind.
Maybe it's understanding what being present means to you
and filling your life, your everyday little by little, with more of that.
Maybe it's making a list of all the cheesy silly activities to do this autumn
and ticking them off as time goes by.
Maybe it's looking forward to that first cup of coffee in the morning
or going on an early morning date to the nearest bakery,
inhaling the scent of fresh pastries and cinnamon as you walk in.
Maybe it's putting rubber wellies and a raincoat
and going out for a walk despite the weather.
Being present is figuring out what makes you feel more alive
and filling your life with that.
Anyway, thank you again for being here with me and listening to my ramblings.
I will see you again very soon.
