November comes as a respite after the hurly-burl of a headfirst plunge into fall. It’s as though we want to show the summer that we can manage just fine without you, thanks very much, so we’ll just go ahead and embrace the whirl of September and October. It’s rather a mad dance, in fact.
Socializing takes on a new intensity after not being able to connect over the summer because of plans that never mesh despite all those promises at the start. Summer get-togethers are flings. Labour Day announces a new round of involvement that is all-immersive. September is the real new year. October is for out-doing September.
By mid-October, post-Thanksgiving, post-apple-picking, post-birthday, one starts to think wistfully of November. And there’s still the fevered pitch of Hallowe’en to come. November will be a time to pick up the pieces, a time to rest, a time to look inside and sort things out. A time to clean house and actually work on all those projects we got started in the frenzy. Time to keep promises.
November is a time to pause.
November is for nesting. For books you don’t have to return quickly to the library and music that you don’t have to dance to. For actually painting, not showing, not talking, not doing all the non-painting. November isn’t gloomy, but cosy. It’s a time to reflect, to collect one’s thoughts and to pull them together or let them go.
It’s a time to reach out with intent.
In November, I will think of more cups of tea than I will drink. It is the very idea of changing gears and resisting the lure of saying yes to every temptation that will ground me and help me focus. Even if I do go out almost as much and take as many steps. It is the notion of a cup of tea that will keep me safe and slow me down.
November is a frame of mind.