I find myself hoping and praying for an early, long autumn. I want those crisp, cloudy, golden-bronze days. The bright sunlight with the blazing blue-tile sky, pinioned by red and gold trees. I want the air perfumed by vanilla, cinnamon and apple, warm and sharp and sweet. I’m longing for the pull and draw to prep and store and cozy down for winter, to make my spaces ones of comfort and rest.

I have found myself more and more drawn to fall as I grow older, falling in love with that twilight era of the seasons, the drawing down to a time of dormancy and rest. I love wrapping myself and my dear ones up in the comfort of cozy clothes, amenities, scents, and food. The soothing of flames in a fireplace, candles, or a fire bowl. The compression of piles of sweaters, sweatshirts, and blankets — the safety of their weight. I love filling my spaces with comforts where one can breathe and relax. I love that sense of warmth and home that fall helps me create, the mental and emotional preparations for rest.

I have become a creature of hygge, a devotee of comfort and care, a believer that without rest there is no strength, no hustle without boundaries, no successful growth without periods of dormancy. I long for those days of savoring light and warmth as it begins to leech from the world, storing that glow and glory within myself to carry me and mine through the heavy, cold silence of winter.

When reading Becky Chambers’s Monk and Robot series and learning about Sibling Dex, a tea monk of Allalae, the God of Small Comforts, I felt incredibly seen. Dex is devoted to providing comfort and holding space for people who need a listening ear and kindly comfort. I know my desire and purpose in life and was touched to see its essence lived out in this character and their desire to share commiseration and consolation with others. Eventually, Dex feels drawn to leave their comfort zone for something greater, and, in that process, they must be reminded that they, too, still need the benefits of solace and rest.

This has been my work of the last few years: making sure that I provide comfort and succor for myself as much as I do for others, because I am in as much need of it as they are. I have worked at setting boundaries for myself in my work, holding space for rest and refreshment in my off hours. It has gone a long way to helping my mental and physical health a great deal, I do believe. Comfort–and all the other beauties that Autumn represents and brings– have done me good and will do me good. And all say amen to it.