It still doesn’t feel like autumn, but it is. It’s October, and my 12-foot-tall Jack Skellington is out in the front yard, yelling at all the delivery people who pass by. And autumn’s a special time, when we shift from the long, hot days to a more internal space, prepping for holidays, digging in to the “swing of things,” and living fully in the busy season of school and sports and breaks and holidays and themed outfit days and permission slips and sack lunches.
So I made you a self-care menu, just for fall, so you can piece together the care of yourself in a way that feels selective, instead of forced and a little derivative. Stack these practices in a way that supports what you need and can handle right now, and save others for later. What’s on your plate?
Appetizers
Little pick-me-ups that take five minutes or less.
Step outside for a quick walk and actually notice the air — that crisp edge, the smell of leaves.
Make a cup of something warm: tea, chai, apple cider, even hot cocoa.
Light your favorite fall candle, or just crack open the window and listen to the wind.
Put on one song and dance around the kitchen — full permission to be silly.
Pet your dog, cat, or kid’s stuffed animal. (Whatever works.)
Do a few gentle stretches or just roll your shoulders while your coffee brews.
Write down three tiny things that made today okay.
Entrées
The heartier things — the ones that fill you up from the inside out.
Bake something that makes your house smell like a bakery: pumpkin bread, apple crisp, cinnamon rolls.
Take an extra-long shower or bath and pretend it’s a spa day.
Read a book while wrapped in a blanket and ignore your phone for an hour.
Cook a cozy dinner — soup, stew, roasted veggies — something that simmers while you play music.
Clear off one surface in your house — just one — and add a little fall touch (a candle, a small pumpkin, a leaf you found outside).
Journal about what you’re ready to let go of before winter.
Text a friend and plan a slow-paced coffee date — no pressure, just connection.
Spend a morning offline. Watch how much space opens up in your brain.
Sides
The small comforts that make ordinary moments feel like rituals.
Pull out your comfiest blanket or sweatshirt — the one that feels like an instant exhale.
Play a fall playlist: acoustic, jazz, or just moody background music while you clean or cook.
Swap out bright summer scents for something warm and woodsy.
Listen to an audiobook or podcast while you fold laundry.
Light a candle in the middle of the day for no reason at all.
Let yourself have the good mug. You know the one.
Desserts
The sweet stuff — the things that feel like pure pleasure but probably aren’t best to do all day, every day.
Watch your comfort show for the millionth time (Gilmore Girls counts as self-care).
Scroll Pinterest for cozy home inspiration, with zero guilt.
Read a Substack you love in bed, blanket over your shoulders, phone on do-not-disturb.
Take yourself to Target “just for a candle.”
Bake cookies and eat one right out of the oven.
Play a cozy game, color, or just sit and daydream.
Watch a holiday movie way too early. (Who’s judging?)
Specials
The big, soul-satisfying moments you’ll actually remember in two years.
Take a drive just to see the leaves changing.
Visit a pumpkin patch or apple orchard and get a cider donut.
Spend one night away — a cabin, an Airbnb, even just a local hotel with good sheets.
Go to a fall festival, or walk through a farmers market and buy yourself flowers.
Host a mini “Friendsgiving” brunch. Pajamas welcome.
Plan a solo day trip — coffee, a good playlist, nowhere you have to be.
See a local play, musical, or concert.
Start a little seasonal journal or scrapbook — not to be productive, just to remember.