What Trees Teach Us About Letting Go
There’s a quiet tension in the air here in the UK as if the landscape itself is pausing, listening. The trees move with new intent, their branches catching the breeze in ways they didn’t just weeks ago. Light slants differently through the day, and the green of summer begins to give way. It’s not loud, but it’s clear: something is shifting. It can only mean September.
This is a month of beginnings and endings. For many people it is a return to rhythm, routine, and reflection. And nature, in its gentle authority, offers us a guide. Trees do not cling to their leaves. They let go in their own time, without resistance or regret. They know that letting go is not a failure, but part of the cycle of growth.
In leadership, too, there comes a moment when we are invited to release. A habit that no longer serves. A project that has run its course. A role we’ve outgrown. Sometimes what needs letting go is not external but internal - a story we tell ourselves, a belief that keeps us small, a pattern of urgency that wears us thin.
Letting go is not always easy. It can feel like a loss. Like stepping into the unknown. Yet as leaders, our ability to let go with grace is what makes space for something new to take root.
As an outdoor facilitator, I often witness this shift most clearly during walk-and-talk coaching conversations in early autumn. The natural world mirrors the inner process. Just as the trees prepare for their next season by releasing what is no longer needed, we, too, begin to notice what we might put down. There is power in that noticing.
Letting go is not passive. It is a courageous act. It asks us to trust in the unseen. To recognise that endings are a part of leadership. That rest is part of the rhythm.
Just as trees deepen their roots in preparation for winter, letting go allows us to anchor more deeply in what matters. We don’t lose our strength; we redirect it. We make room for clarity, for stillness, for the next right thing to emerge.
As we step into September, I invite you to pause and ask:
What are you carrying that you no longer need?
What are you ready to release - with care, with kindness?
And what might become possible when you let it go?
Let nature be your guide. Watch the trees. Feel the shift. Let go gently, and root more deeply.
With steadiness and warmth,
Anni
