Seeds, Seasons, and Letting Go: Lessons From My Fall Garden

Today marks the first day of Fall, and I must say there are some things I am eager to shed and release forever. The past couple of months have been challenging (as if it’s ever not challenging over here), with repeated cycles of inconsistency showing up in personal relationships, parenting, mental health — pretty much in all aspects of life.

I’m unhappy with a lot that’s going on right now, so you know what I gotta do? Change it.

I recently started a fall garden, and I’ve learned a couple of things along the way — not just about gardening, but about life. What I thought would be a simple hobby to pass the time has actually given me so much insight in ways I didn’t even think were possible.

For instance, I started planting most of what I have now from seeds. That meant I had to till the ground, work the soil, and physically put the seed in the dirt. Some seeds took root and germinated. Some didn’t even make it out of the ground. For the seeds that did grow, I’ve had to learn patience — something I’ve struggled with my whole life.

I’ve had plenty of tests that proved I wasn’t good at “waiting well.” But today, as I looked at what has grown from those tiny seeds into actual plants, I realized something: I waited well this time. I didn’t complain, I didn’t whine, I didn’t stress. I simply watered, nurtured, and trusted the process. And that feels like growth — not just in my garden, but in me.

Of course, not all of my seeds were successful, and I’m okay with that. I’ll try again. The ones that didn’t sprout reminded me of certain relationships I had high hopes for but that didn’t produce real or lasting fruit. I’ve accepted those failures as lessons, both in planting and in people. Every plant isn’t meant to grow in my garden, and every person isn’t meant to grow with me.

Recently, I found out that someone I considered a friend didn’t feel the same way and chose to talk badly about me instead of being honest. Was I hurt? Yes. Did I get over it? Absolutely. That failed “seed” reminded me to temper my expectations, move on, and not stress over what was never meant to grow.

So here’s what I’m carrying with me into this next season:

• Not everything you plant will produce a harvest.
• A failed attempt can still give you valuable knowledge.
• The leaves that fall, though messy on the surface, actually nourish the soil and prepare it for what’s next.

As I step into this new season, I’m realizing that fall isn’t just about cooler weather or leaves changing colors — it’s about release. Just as trees let go of what no longer serves them, I’m choosing to let go of old habits, expired relationships, and patterns that weigh me down.

My garden has given me a quiet but powerful lesson: growth requires patience, failure isn’t final, and letting go often creates the best soil for something new to thrive. Fall is a time of transition — a chance to shed what’s heavy, nurture what’s rooted, and prepare for the harvest still ahead.

Starting this garden has shifted my perspective from frustration to curiosity, from impatience to presence. Even when things don’t go as planned, I’m learning there’s still value in the process.

Practical tips to carry into your own season of growth:

• Embrace patience: Growth takes time — whether in healing, relationships, or goals.
• Learn from failure: Every “seed” that doesn’t sprout is still teaching you something.
• Let go to make room: Just as the trees release their leaves, give yourself permission to release what no longer serves you.
• Celebrate small wins: Whether it’s a sprout breaking through the soil or a personal victory, acknowledge your progress.

As we welcome fall, I challenge you to reflect: What’s one thing you need to release, and what’s one thing you want to nurture this season? Share it in the comments — I’d love to hear how you’re embracing this season of change.