September 2025

It happens every year.

The change in season invites a change in routine. So we shift back into our brisk fall rhythms, penciling in commitments and activities in every calendar square, [seasonally-appropriate] coffee in hand.

We push uncertainty to the edges as the margins close in. After all, there’s energy and excitement in the rush of being busy.

So we let the adrenaline carry us, floating through life just a little faster than before. The scenery blurring—a wash of colors, sounds, and ideas.

The world feels like it's spinning with reckless abandon right now, and we're stuck on the carousel*.* The organ playing “The Organ Grinder's Serenade” on repeat as we go round and round.

Faster, faster.

And yet, something deep within urges us to pull back, to slow down. Something doesn’t feel right. It’s all a little too much.

We live in this tension, don’t we? Every day, a chance—a choice.

The world says, “You can do more.” What matters is how busy you are, how much you accomplish, how efficiently you use your time. Your potential is tied to your productivity.

But art says, “Being unrushed is a luxury.” Take in the world, moment by moment. “Look, and look again,” as Mary Oliver wrote. Creativity is inefficient by nature—and that’s the point. We can’t rush it; we simply experience it. Lean in.

This wasn’t the letter I intended to send to you this month. It’s not the letter I wrote earlier this week. Here, in the slanted Autumn light of morning, I’m beginning again. You can, too.

Here’s to doing meaningful, unrushed work in the year ahead, and always listening to the art.