Rituals for the fifth season

Hey Soothers! Before I dive into the essay, a reminder that tonight is my workshop on How to Get Unstuck. We'll have live exercises, a workbook, and healing and getting unstuck from whatever area you are feeling, well, stuck in, in beautiful community. 8pmET, lifetime replay if you can't attend live, get tix here right here up until the event! $25.

Happy Sunday, Soothers. August and early September are kind of... weird months. Is anybody else feeling it? I sometimes call this period of late summer/before fall the "Persephone Months"; I think of it as the exhale after the summer solstice, all the light in the evenings, and the turn towards the inner, as we (in the Northern Hemisphere right now, anyways) point our inner compasses down into the steps leading us to winter, as Persephone did after spending her six months above the underworld in the blooms and harvest of earth.

There's an in-betweenness, a liminality; are we to try to grasp the last shreds of summer light, or start lighting our pumpkin candles? Are we to begin pining for summer festivities or get excited about all the hygge coming our way? Are we to try to embody a carefree summer attitude or get all of our notebooks out and get into full back-to-school mode?

I was gratified to learn recently from one of my favorite writers, Asia Suler, that there is an official name for this time of year in the Chinese calendar:

The fifth season. Long Summer.

Suler writes,

"In the Chinese calendar there is an extra season that blooms between the spaces of late summer and autumn. Long Summer, as it's called, is a liminal season— one that lasts the small handspan of time between the ending of August and the equinox arrival of fall. A time marked by the fire of late-blooming pineapple sage and copper-headed sunflowers. Fuchsias, gold and grain coming into their ripeness. Traditionally, Long Summer was a time of embracing lush stillness, that quiet that comes with the last breath of heat, the calm that precedes the filling cool of Fall.

Within every big movement is a more subtle cycle, and in this transitional season we enter into the Earth element. A time of butter-light and the bone deep need for rest, this short season of in-between asks us to re-root in our foundations before the sweep of fall. It is a sacred pause for integration. An invitation to come back into a state of balance after the hubbub of summer, and find a place of peaceful neutrality before the waning of autumn begins."


Ahh. This naming landed with a deep resonance in my bones of understanding. That's why this season can feel so complex, so bittersweet, so liminal. It is in the in between. A pause. A time for reflection and integration.

Luckily, if you're feeling this in-betweenness of the fifth season, of Late Summer, as well, you're in the right place. Because creating rituals and moments of reflection for the in between spaces is kind of my jam.

So, below, consider these suggestions for how to mark this time of the fifth season, before we go officially into the colder months.

  • Create a summer to fall nature altar: One of my favorite activities of late has been to go around collecting fallen nature items (seeds, acorns, leaves, petals) and putting them into a pretty little arrangement on my altar. One way you can ritualize this more officially is to create a summer to fall altar display, or even a nature summer to fall mandala, if you have the space and time (instructions on that here). Can you trim some flowers or branches from your yard? Can you begin to find those leaves that are turning golden and falling already? And can you arrange it all as a testament to the natural shift of nature that is taking place so beautifully in this time, no matter where you are?

  • Write a goodbye to summer, hello to fall letter. I am a huge proponent of letter writing as ritual and for personal growth. Take this time to say goodbye and thank you to summer. What happened, what are you grateful for, what growth occurred for you in that season? Then turn your eyes towards autumn and say hello. What are you looking forward to about fall, about this season? What do you hope to do or accomplish?

  • Journal using this prompt: What have you harvested in summer, and what are you prepared to shed for fall?

  • Pick a tree best friend and give it a fall offering. I do this with so many trees; I visit my favorites seasonally. In summer, spring, fall and winter, I watch how they shift and unfold and that reminds me of all the cyclical events taking place within me, too. Find a tree or two in your neighborhood you really love and commit to visiting it this week; visit it again on the fall equinox (September 22); and then again on the winter solstice — and maybe even once a week. Consider preparing an offering for the tree. It could really be just a single flower, a piece of fruit, a pretty rock, a letter written on biodegradable paper that you can bury by the tree. Tobacco is a traditional indigenous offering, even beer or spirits (just poured out a little) can work, as long as you do it with reverence and intention.

  • Ask yourself, what are you digesting? What are 10 things, lessons, topics, ideas, experiences, you might still be digesting from summer? Borrowing from a ritual created by writer and coach Rachael Maddox, start each line with, “I am digesting….” And go from there. Afterwards, you may want to lie down for 5-10 minutes or do child’s pose, or a physical pose that might literally help you digest, as if you had just had a big meal, or take a nap. This will help you emotionally digest, too!

We were talking about this topic in the Sunday Soother Slack community, and here are a few ideas from me and other community members on this topic that you could use for your own inspiration...

  • I wrote: I wanted to share a little ritual I did to make the transition and leaving of our cottage in Indiana easier... 1. The night before we left we stood on the dock and told the house and the land/river 3 things each we were grateful for it. 2. I gathered a bunch of nature items and made a little nature mandala on the shore 3. I left an offering for the house too (a bunch of coins we had been gathering, tucked in a secret place) 4. cried a lot lol

  • Anne Marie shared: I love the idea of a ritual at the end of a vacation. Thanks for that inspiration @Catherine Andrews (she/her) ! This time of year is always really hard for me.  August and September make me itchy in my soul. It's a highly uncomfortable transition season for me.  And I used to just endure and suffer through it but in the past couple of years I've been doing little things to soften it.  This year I'm trying to be more intentional about morning altars (https://www.instagram.com/morningaltars/) and it's been soothing to see that as August wanes my little collection of offerings looks more autumnal.  The Cherry Blossom trees (my emotional support tree) have already gone yellow and it definitely soothed some of the soul itch over the past weekend.

  • Andrea wrote: Wow — this is so helpful for me. I’ve been confused as to why I’ve been in a funk this week, and I assumed it has to do with everything being all “summer’s over!” Living in Minnesota, summer is EVERYTHING. I’m not ready for it to be over. My soul is definitely feeling itchy — you nailed it,  Anne Marie . I just might start an altar to collect summer things — spent dahlia blooms and other flowers, a cicada shell if I can find one (I love their constant song this time of year), and other nature things. Maybe I’ll tell my garden everything I love about it the next time I’m out there harvesting tomatoes and peppers. Maybe I’ll savor mowing the lawn instead of thinking of it as a chore…


So beautiful. So, may these ritual ideas inspire you in these Persephone months, this fifth season, this Long Summer, or use them in a mish-mash to intuitively make your own.

Most of all, let yourself feel the liminality of this season, which can feel a bit unsettling, a bit floaty, a bit strange. Then turn to ways to ground yourself, anchor your soul, and turn away from the sun light, into the candle light of fall.

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This summer, let yourself be good