I understand why many people feel that September brings about more of a “new year” than January— a back to school sensation prevails, even for those of us who are childless, employed adults. (In fact, back to school pervades so much that my most-read new letter of the month was my round up of back to school wares for sophisticated grown-ups.)
Personally, I am partial to Persian New Year and the Spring Equinox as the moment it feels like new life begins afresh. But I won’t deny the magnetism of the current moment, it has me strongly in its grip these days, the natural end to the year’s crescendo: glorious summer.
For the last five or so years, I’ve spent summers at the beach, further away from most of the people and community I’ve built for the last decade. (At some point, I made my withdrawal permanent, and I live on the beach full time, separated from the hum and buzz of the city and its occupants by a railroad line and an hour of time forfeit to get there.)
By the end of my self-imposed summer hibernation, I am always desperate to reconnect. I send a flurry of catch up texts, pack my calendar with calls and coffees, and throw myself headlong at whatever sparks inspiration and will hoover up the time that I previously yielded to long walks on a hot, sunny beach.
If you’re like me, maybe you’re craving a shift into a higher gear. Maybe you want to nudge and stimulate that brain, keep your hands full with creation and banish summer’s idle thoughts.
Below is my framework, and a glut of resources and inspiration to choose from for setting your own “Fall Syllabus.” Think of it as your map to figuring your shit out this Fall. Figure-Your-Shit-Out-Fall.
FYSOF, for short, maybe.
Here’s how it’s going to work:
Pick one thing to work on, work through, add to your routine or try your hand at from each quadrant of the graph I drew above.
You’re shooting for at least one for all four. Try not to heap on 8 things in professional growth but none in learning or spiritual, if you can help it. We don’t want things to be lopsided, especially because most of us already are lopsided towards work.
At the bottom, paid subscribers get a missive on my plans/progress, and how it’s going behind the scenes. (It’s a juicy, wacky, off-the-rails essay.)
Spiritual growth because it keeps the depressies at bay, gives our lives purpose and meaning, and is totally absent from modern life now that we need it the most. (You know, now that we’re all aware Claude intends to kill us and the government and Anthropic plan to do nothing.) Some ideas from my desk: redoing The Artist’s Way (I love Dianna Cohen’s video on this for Take Your Time), tunneling into yourself with journal prompts, picking up Man’s Search for Meaning, plan a trip back to somewhere that feels spiritually special to you, go see some art that moves you in a near religious way.
Professional growth because I’m assuming you want to nourish your ambition. If you don’t long for any sort of achievement, change in compensation, or future goal, you can omit this— though nearly all of us have some goal for our work, whether it’s the job that pays our bills or not. Some ideas from my desk: if you’re wanting to write a book you should sign up for a course (I’m taking Cecilia Lyra’s next one) or explore a workshop, if you want to make content then work on how you can communicate your ideas better, if you’re wanting to transition from full-time to freelance you should explore the framework from someone like Grace Abbott, if you know that in your next job you’d like to make XYZ% more money maybe you should explore my framework for job-hunting and share your resume with a few people in the industry you trust for feedback.
Learning because we deeply undervalue learning just to learn. The best thing you can do is feed yourself knowledge or hobbies that are un-monetizable and do nothing for any part of your life save for just to engage and expand your horizons. Some ideas from my desk: picking up a book on something you find wildly interesting even if no one else does, upgrading to the Patreon of a historian or scientist you admire whose work has always intrigued you, signing up for weekly lessons with a tutor until you master that language you’ve been half-assing for way too long, taking the day off to go to The Frick or The Met.
Leaving behind because what you choose to drop now matters just as much as what you choose to pick up— what served you to get to this point that no longer will? Some ideas from my desk: getting a therapist, rewiring your brain to ditch the self-sabotaging negative self-talk, making a conscious decision to choose optimism if you’re going to continue to use dating apps when in the past you’ve gotten stuck in the cycle of both relying on and complaining about them, quietly demoting the friend who is more of a drain than a fountain, choosing to just stop being jealous of that person who has what you haven’t been able to admit to yourself you want.
