“Don’t spend your whole life sitting on the edge, wondering what the water might feel like. Dip your feet in. Make some ripples. Have a bloody adventure. Because life isn’t about knowing what happens next. It’s about being brave enough to find out.” — Missy Moo Poetry

Menopause, Yorkshire style. Saggy tits, a belly with a mind of its own, chin hairs tougher than a dry stone wall and a thermostat that’s gone completely tits up. But this body’s lived, loved, laughed and survived some right bloody storms. She’s not falling apart, she’s just stopped giving a toss. Because growing older isn’t about losing who you were. It’s about finally having the balls to be who you bloody well are. And if tha doesn’t like it, tha knows where t’door is!

Tonight, beneath the Harvest Moon, I’m thinking about what it really means to gather in our own harvest. The things we’ve grown, the storms we’ve survived, the people we love and the stuff we’re finally ready to stop carrying. As Nick, Presley and I head off for a night beneath the dark skies, I’m embracing a little Pagan wisdom, a lot of gratitude and one simple thought: perhaps Autumn isn’t just about watching nature let go. Maybe it’s our invitation to do the same.

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