Why October is the perfect month to practice mindfulness

October feels like a month that breathes differently. The air turns cooler, the light softens, and the energy shifts from summer’s urgency to something gentler. Trees let go of their leaves without hurry, the days shorten, and a stillness settles in. For me, living with Huntington’s disease, that stillness is more than seasonal; it’s a lifeline. October’s pace mirrors what I need most: presence, acceptance, and the courage to let go.

Mindfulness hasn’t always been easy for me. My mind likes to run ahead, dwelling on what’s next or what might go wrong. Huntington’s amplifies that tendency. Some days, my symptoms — unsteady balance, fatigue, involuntary movements — pull me out of the moment before I even realize it. I can get caught up in how I appear to others or in fears about what the future may bring. But October reminds me that change is natural, and there’s grace in meeting it with awareness rather than resistance.

This month offers a sensory richness that naturally draws me into the present. The smell of wood smoke, the crisp bite of apples, the golden spill of afternoon sunlight — each becomes an anchor. On days when my thoughts spiral or my body feels unpredictable, I step outside and simply notice. I focus on the warmth of a mug in my hands, the crunch of leaves beneath my shoes, or the coolness of my breath in the air. My symptoms don’t vanish, but my relationship to them shifts. Instead of fighting my body, I’m inhabiting it.

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Mindfulness in October isn’t always serene. There are days when the bare branches and quieter afternoons stir feelings of grief for the abilities I’ve lost and the person I was before my diagnosis. In the early years of Huntington’s, I tried to outrun those feelings by staying busy, pushing forward, and ignoring my feelings. But I’ve learned that mindfulness isn’t about escaping reality; it’s about meeting it with compassion. A meditation teacher once said, “You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.” That truth has stayed with me.

Mindfulness is choosing not to let my symptoms define me.

Embracing slowness

October also carries its own lesson of reflection. The trees don’t hold on to their leaves out of fear of what’s next; they release them, trusting that rest is part of the cycle. I try to carry that lesson into my own life. When fatigue forces me to cancel plans, I let go of guilt and trust that rest is not weakness. When my movements are unpredictable in public, I release the need to control how I’m perceived and instead focus on what’s happening right now, whether that’s enjoying a conversation, feeling the cool air on my skin, or simply standing still and breathing.

The season encourages me to embrace slowness. On a foggy morning, I might linger with my tea by the window, watching the world emerge in muted shades of gold and gray. On days when my symptoms feel heavier, I walk more slowly, using that time to notice my surroundings instead of rushing past them. Slowness used to frustrate me. Now I see it as a doorway into presence. The world moves quickly enough without me trying to keep pace; October reminds me that I don’t have to.

In many ways, October is a teacher. It shows me that change can be beautiful, that letting go can be graceful, and that slowing down can reveal more than rushing ever could. It mirrors the essence of mindfulness: meeting life exactly as it is, without judgment or hurry. For me, living with Huntington’s disease, this practice isn’t optional; it’s essential. Mindfulness doesn’t erase the challenges I face, but it changes how I experience them.

As the leaves fall and the light fades earlier, I meet October with open eyes and an open heart. I breathe in its stillness, let its colors remind me of the beauty in change, and allow its quiet moments to become my own. My life is unpredictable, sometimes messy, but still full of wonder when I choose to notice it. That’s the heart of mindfulness: being here, fully, for all of it. And October, with its steady invitation to slow down, makes that practice feel not only possible but natural.

Note: Huntington’s Disease News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Huntington’s Disease News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Huntington’s disease.