A new month is easier to enter slowly than to charge at, and October is unusually forgiving about it.
Breathing into a month means giving it room before filling it. Nicole Junkerman on pace, space, and the ordinary business of beginning again.
A month with room in it
The phrase people reach for in early autumn is usually about catching up. The year has a visible end now, and the instinct is to move faster towards it. October does not reward that instinct especially well. It is a long month with a great deal of weather in it, and the weeks that go well tend to be the ones that began with a little slack left in them.
Leaving room is not the same as leaving things undone. It means the day has somewhere to expand into when something takes longer than planned, which almost everything does.
Part of what makes early autumn awkward is that the year suddenly looks finite. That is a change of view rather than a change of speed, and the two are worth separating before the month properly gets going.
The pause that is always there
Nothing to arrange
One of the reassuring things about paying attention to a breath is how little it asks for. No equipment, no particular place, no preparation. It is simply the one thing already happening, and noticing it for a moment is a way of arriving back in the day rather than running slightly ahead of it.
There is an earlier note here on breathing and attention, and more general writing of the same kind is gathered under meditation. All of it is offered as reflection rather than instruction.
Pace, not effort
Autumn has a way of turning into a test of effort, as though the months left in the year were a distance to be covered at speed. Pace is the more forgiving idea. A pace can be adjusted midweek without anything being abandoned, and it survives an interruption, which an all or nothing plan rarely does.
The difference shows up in small places. A walk taken at the same unhurried speed on a busy day as on a quiet one. A morning that starts at the same hour whether or not the week has been kind. Steadiness at a gentle speed goes a surprisingly long way.
Carrying it into an ordinary week
One thing, kept
Most good intentions in October are undone by their own size. Four new habits in the opening week is a plan that does not survive contact with a Thursday. One small thing, kept, is worth more than a programme, and it leaves enough attention over to notice whether it was worth keeping at all.
That is the whole of it: a month entered slowly, with room left in it, and one ordinary thing held steady. There is more in the same spirit across the journal archive.
Frequently asked questions
- What does it mean to breathe into a month?
- Giving it room before filling it. A month entered slowly tends to keep enough slack for the days that run long, which is most of them.
- Is a gentle pace the same as doing less?
- Not really. A pace can be adjusted midweek without anything being abandoned, and it survives an interruption in a way an all or nothing plan rarely does.
- How many new habits are worth starting in October?
- One, kept. A single small thing that survives a busy Thursday is worth more than four begun with enthusiasm in the first week.
This site shares personal reflections and general writing on meditation, mindfulness, and mental well-being. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, therapy, counselling, or crisis support.
