I need everyone at TJ Maxx and HomeGoods to stop putting the fall decor out so early.
Actually, that’s a lie.
I need them to keep putting it out and I need me to stop looking at it.
I am a #fallgirlie of the highest order. Give me sweaters and soup and chilly mornings and changing leaves. I am helpless in the presence of amber glass, plaid blankets, tiny decorative pumpkins, and candles with names like Autumn Orchard or Cozy Cabin.
Which is a bit of a problem when you’re also someone who tries to live by the Celtic wheel of the year.
Because the Celtic calendar is basically standing behind me in the HomeGoods fall aisle saying, Ma’am. It is still summer.
August brought us into the season of the first harvest and we remain in this season until the wheel turns again at the autumn equinox. The light is changing, but summer hasn’t packed her bags yet. The tomatoes are still magnificent. Peaches are still dripping down our wrists. The cicadas haven’t gotten the memo about sweater weather.
Recovery makes this worth paying attention to. Alcohol was very good at helping me change the channel on whatever I was feeling or experiencing. Sobriety has asked me to stay for my own life, including the parts I’d rather hurry through.
So, before I surrender completely to pumpkin season, I’m giving the first harvest its due.
Here are six ways you can too.
1. Eat the damn peach.
Or the tomato. Or the corn. Or the blackberries. Find whatever is ridiculously good where you live right now and eat it.
This doesn’t require a ritual voice or a journal. You don’t have to contemplate the metaphysical implications of the peach. Let the peach be delicious.
Lughnasa (Loo-nah-sah) is a harvest festival. Most of us aren’t heading into the fields to gather grain, but we can still pay attention to what the earth is producing. Go to a farmers market or farm stand if you have access to one. Look at what is piled high because there is so much of it. Ask someone what’s especially good this week.
Then bring some home.
Recovery has changed my relationship with pleasure. I spent enough years believing pleasure needed to come with an altered state. These days, I am increasingly interested in the pleasure available to me while I am fully here for it.
Sometimes that pleasure is a perfect peach.
2. Go on a “what’s still here?” walk.
This isn’t an exercise walk. You don’t need a destination, a step goal, or a pace.
Go outside for whatever amount of time works for you and look for what hasn’t left yet.
What’s blooming? What insects can you hear? What’s growing in people’s gardens? What does the air smell like? Where is the light landing?
Nature rarely follows the retail calendar. September 1 does not arrive and command every tree to put on your fall outfit immediately.
One of the things I love about following the Celtic wheel is that it makes the ordinary world around me part of my spiritual practice. I don’t have to go somewhere sacred. I have to notice where I already am.
3. Make a first-harvest drink.
You knew I was going to get a mocktail in here.
Use watermelon or berries. Muddle basil or mint. Squeeze some lime. Make iced tea and throw herbs into it with reckless abandon. Use something that tastes like the end of summer.
One of the surprises of sobriety for me has been discovering how much ceremony I actually wanted. The beautiful glass. The garnish. The stopping. The small declaration that the day has changed now.
Alcohol doesn’t own any of that.
Make something beautiful and cold. Sit somewhere you enjoy. Clink glasses with somebody you love or raise one to your own self.
4. Give these weeks a soundtrack.
This is not historically documented Celtic practice.
I feel fairly confident about that.
But music can locate us in time almost instantly.
Make a small playlist for the stretch between the first harvest and the autumn equinox. Songs that feel like open windows, thunderstorms, road trips, long evenings, city heat, bare feet, cold drinks, salt water, whatever summer has sounded like in your particular life.
Play it in the kitchen. Put it on in the car. Listen while the sun goes down.
There are songs I hear and immediately know where I was when I first loved them. Music keeps its own calendar. Let it mark this little stretch of the year too.
(Speaking of soundtracks, did you know The Sober Curator offers a monthly snail mail subscription called TSC Mixtape, because the mini zines come packaged inside of a cassette tape case. Yep, we are writing you a monthly love letter. Learn more here. It’s the perfect analog companion to help you slow down and be where your feet are.)
5. Have a tiny harvest feast.
Please notice the word tiny.
Nobody needs another aspirational seasonal activity requiring fourteen ingredients, three days of preparation, matching napkins, and a tablescape.
Make a meal around something abundant right now. Corn and tomatoes. Bread and herbs. Berries over ice cream. Something grilled. Something a neighbor handed you because their garden has become completely unmanageable.
Invite somebody if you want to.
Harvest traditions were communal for a reason. Food ripens all at once. There is too much for one person. You gather it, eat it, preserve it, give some away.
I love that as a recovery practice too. So much of recovery begins with what we desperately need. Help me. Sit with me. Tell me I’m going to make it through tonight.
Eventually, sometimes without noticing exactly when it happened, we discover we have something to offer too.
Maybe it’s dinner.
Maybe it’s company.
Maybe it’s calling the person who is having a terrible week and saying, “Come over. I have too much corn.”
6. Have one evening that isn’t preparing you for anything.
No fall planning. No seasonal reset. No deciding that September is when you’re finally going to become a person who meal preps, wakes at 5 a.m., journals for thirty minutes, and has a 2 hour skincare routine.
Have an evening that doesn’t need to improve you.
Sit outside. Read. Call somebody. Watch something ridiculous. Listen to your playlist. Watch the sky get dark earlier than it did a month ago.
Recovery culture can become very interested in improvement. Healing can too. There is always another practice, another tool, another thing we could understand about ourselves.
Sometimes I want to remember that I didn’t get sober so I could spend the rest of my life working on myself.
I got sober so I could live it.
And right now, there are still peaches to eat, cicadas making an absolute racket, and warm evenings that belong to summer.
October will get its turn.
And when it does, you know where I’ll be.
At HomeGoods.
Buying the damn pumpkin.
CURATED CRAFTS: Decoupage Floral Pumpkins DIY for Craft Enthusiasts
THIRSTY FOR WONDER: at The Sober Curator, led by Anne Marie Cribben—a passionate recovery coach and spiritual companion based in Washington, DC—offers 1:1 coaching, spiritual guidance, and recovery support rooted in compassion and empowerment. As the creator of The Wellspring: A Celtic Recovery Journey, Anne Marie blends the Celtic calendar with sobriety, connecting participants to ancient wisdom and the rhythms of nature.
A fierce advocate for sobriety as liberation and self-love, she challenges the targeted marketing of alcohol to women and champions authentic, joyful living. Her work goes beyond addiction recovery, fostering a life of vibrancy, purpose, and connection.
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FAQ
What is Lughnasa or Lughnasadh?
Lughnasa, also spelled Lughnasadh, is a traditional Gaelic festival associated with the beginning of the harvest season and is commonly observed around Aug. 1. In modern Pagan traditions, it is often celebrated as the first of several harvest festivals leading into autumn.
What is the Celtic Wheel of the Year?
The Wheel of the Year is a modern Pagan seasonal calendar built around eight festivals associated with solstices, equinoxes and traditional seasonal celebrations such as Lughnasadh, Samhain, Imbolc and Beltane. Different traditions may observe or interpret these festivals differently.
How can I celebrate Lughnasa or the first harvest?
You can keep it simple: eat locally grown seasonal food, visit a farmers market, share a meal, spend time outside or intentionally notice what is abundant where you live. Harvest celebrations have traditionally centered on food, gratitude and the changing season.
How can seasonal practices support sobriety?
Seasonal practices can create opportunities to slow down, notice your surroundings and experience pleasure or ritual without alcohol. Activities such as preparing a special zero-proof drink, sharing a meal, listening to music or spending time outdoors can become meaningful ways to practice presence in recovery.
When is the autumn equinox?
In the Northern Hemisphere, the autumn equinox occurs in September, usually around Sept. 22 or 23, marking the astronomical transition from summer into fall.
