
Start Your Week With Presence & Purpose
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Julie Koehler
On his first day back in the White House, Donald Trump signed a controversial executive order stating that there are only two genders, male and female, and that those genders are tied to biological sexual. This statement was simple and devastating, and it signaled that the gender backlash had reached a boiling point. I'm Julie Kohler, the host of White Picket Fence. This season we're examining the many faces of this gender backlash, how it's showing up in our politics and culture. It's a scary time, but it's also a moment for imagination. What becomes possible when we imagine a better future? Subscribe to White Picket Fence wherever you listen to podcasts.
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Ashley Bentley
The Neurodivergent Experience podcast presents Mindful Mondays. I'm your host, Ashley Bentley, and this is your weekly reset for presence and purpose. All through October, we're exploring nature as.
Teacher, nature as healer, learning how the.
Natural world reminds us to return to.
Ourselves, to presence, and to peace.
And this week, we step into one.
Of the greatest lessons nature has to offer. The beauty of embracing change, the beauty of letting go, and the beauty of noticing what you're noticing.
Autumn teaches us that release isn't failure, it's wisdom.
It's the tree knowing that it can't hold on to every leaf, that to bloom again, it must shed what once was.
And for the neurodivergent nervous system, attachment.
Often brings a sense of safety. Familiar thoughts and habits act as anchors in a fast moving world.
Yet neuroscience shows us that flexibility, the.
Ability to adapt and release, actually strengthens our neural pathways.
And in nature's rhythm, we see that.
Letting go is not loss, but evolution.
And we will also explore today how nature is our classroom, showing us where.
Our mindset is simply by noticing what we're noticing.
So today we explore what it means.
To surrender with grace, to find beauty, not fear and impermanence.
And I've always loved autumn.
It's always been my favorite season. There's something sacred about it. The air is both crisp and soft. The scent of wood smoke, the golden light that seems to hold everything in a kind of reverent pause. But for many of us, especially those.
Of us with neurodivergent minds and sensitive.
Systems, change can feel unsettling. We crave the familiar, the predictable, the structure we've built to stay grounded in a world that often feels overwhelming.
And yet nature never resists change. It moves through it with rhythm and grace. The tides don't bargain with the moon, and the trees don't argue with the wind.
And every leaf that falls is a tiny act of trust.
And a few years ago, I wrote.
A post on social media about this very idea. I shared how each season seems to.
Last just long enough for us to get used to it. And then, right as we settle in, it shifts. I wrote that maybe that's nature's way.
Of teaching us something profound. That change is the only constant and that resisting it only tightens our suffering. And at the time, I was learning this lesson the hard way, I had begun walking every day, reconnecting with nature, finding strength and rhythm again after my full body shutdown. But soon I faced a new kind of change, one that I hadn't chosen. My hip began deteriorating and movement became painful. And for a while, I resisted it fiercely.
I thought, no, this isn't how it's supposed to go.
I've worked so hard to get here.
But just change doesn't ask for permission.
It just comes, like the wind turning colder. And over time, I realized something really profound. Letting go isn't about giving up. It's about making space for what is. When we release what no longer serves us. An identity, a habit, even a hope that's outlived its purpose. When we release these things, we create more room for what's next to arrive.
And nature shows us this everywhere we look.
The river doesn't cling to a single drop of water. And the tide doesn't mourn the wave as it returns to the sea.
And the moon doesn't fight its own waning.
Each part of the natural world moves in cycles of growth, decay, rest and rebirth.
But we as humans often get stuck in attachment.
We grip what once worked or what once defined us, afraid that without it, we'll lose ourselves. And we forget that we are the changing, not the thing being changed.
And there's a beautiful Buddhist teaching that can really help us here.
And it's the focus of this week's bite Sized Buddhism. The Buddha taught that everything that arises also Passes away every thought, every emotion, every experience, even the most painful, is transient. This principle is called Anika impermanence. And it's not meant to be bleak. In fact, it's profoundly liberating. Because when we truly grasp impermanence, we stop clinging. We begin to see that no storm lasts forever and no joy needs to be grasped in fear of losing it. Imagine if we could meet every change in our lives the way we meet the seasons, with curiosity and awe and acceptance. We'd stop fighting the natural flow. We'd begin to trust it.
And isn't that what healing really is?
Trusting that each ending carries the seed of something new? And when I think about impermanence, I'm reminded of those crisp autumn walks. The crunch of leaves beneath my feet.
The slow drift of gold and amber against a gray sky.
It's so easy to think of those falling leaves as something dying, something lost. But what if they are simply returning, giving back to the soil what once nourished them, completing the cycle that allows.
Spring to bloom again.
That's what letting go can be for us. Not destruction, but completion.
It doesn't always come easily, of course. We resist change because it disrupts our sense of control. And for many neurodivergent people, control equals safety.
So letting go can feel terrifying. But here's something to remember. Safety doesn't always come from sameness. It comes from trust. And trust can grow just like anything else we practice. Maybe the work isn't to cling tighter, but to loosen our grip gently, one finger at a time. And when you do, you might notice something magical. Underneath the fear of change.
There's often relief.
Relief that you no longer have to hold it all together. Relief that the next chapter doesn't require you to be who you were, only to be here, open to what's next.
And in my own journey, I've had to let go of a lot lately. Plans, expectations, routines that once grounded me, but later became cages.
I've learned that even the most beautiful.
Structures can start to stifle if we forget to let the wind move through them. And you might remember some of these I mentioned in episode four, Rhythms and Routines. And it's funny, because nature never makes that mistake. Mother Nature is constantly teaching us how to let go with grace.
The waves pull back so that they can surge forward again. And the soil rests in winter so that it can bloom in spring. Even the sky lets go of the day each evening, painting one last masterpiece before it turns to night. And noticing what you're noticing in nature.
Is a Huge lesson in where your mindset is.
I often tell people that how you approach your time in nature shows you so much about who you are and where you are in your life.
And what do I mean by this? Well, let's look at an example.
Imagine you're walking down a country lane after several days of rain, and you come upon a scene of leaves, mud, and puddles to navigate.
What is your first thought or reaction? Is it, ugh, I can't believe there's mud everywhere.
I'm going to get dirty and there's.
Going to be so much cleaning to.
Do when I get home. Oh, no, I think we're out of laundry detergent.
Oh, no, I forgot to leave a.
Towel by the door.
Suddenly you are spiraling. Or you could come upon the same scene and think, ah, what glorious colors these leaves are. I am so grateful for the rain.
We needed it.
And just look at those puddles. I remember jumping in them as a kid. I wonder if I can still play.
That puddle game I used to love.
Do you see the difference? Same situation, completely different experience. And remember, this is a perfect time to practice equanimity.
Noticing your resistance to the moment isn't a failure, it's medicine. Because the moment you notice what you're noticing, you become the witness. You step back and you see what is and that is present.
And I do this all the time myself. I'll catch a flicker of frustration rising and think, ah, there it is.
Then I thank myself.
I literally say, thank you for reminding.
Me to be present.
So, you see, you can meet yourself.
Exactly where you are and use whatever's.
Happening within you as your teacher. And just like nature, our lives unfold.
In seasons, not just in years, but in relationships, careers, habits, identities. Some things are meant to be lifelong.
And others are just visiting. The key is learning to recognize when.
It'S time to release with gratitude, not resistance. Because when you hold on to something that's finished, it starts to weigh you down. And when you let it go, it becomes a part of you. Integrated, digested, transformed. Like the leaf that falls and becomes soil for something new.
So here's a small reflection you can take into your week.
Can you notice what you're noticing? What are you holding on to that's.
Asking to be released?
And what might you gain by letting it go? Maybe it's a routine that once served you, but now feels heavy. Maybe it's an identity or story that no longer fits. Maybe it's an expectation of yourself, of others, of life that's keeping you from breathing freely. The truth is, we can't control change, but we can learn to flow with it. And in that flow, we find freedom.
And before we move into our meditation, I'll leave you with this thought. Nature offers us the most exquisite metaphors for living, and these are just a few of them. Over the next few episodes, we'll continue exploring the wisdom hidden in those metaphors.
From the tides to the trees, from the storms to the sunlight.
And I would love to hear from you if nature has offered you a metaphor that stayed with you, something that's taught you or grounded you, I'd love to hear them. And you can email the podcast on.
Mindfulmondayspodcastmail.Com and your story might just become.
A thread in one of our upcoming episodes.
So for now, let's take a breath together and let's practice the art of letting go.
Before we move into today's practice.
If you are currently driving or operating heavy machinery, please ensure to pause the recording and come back to it when.
You can safely come into stillness.
And just find a comfortable position, either seated or lying down.
And ensure your body is fully supported.
And you might choose to have a blanket or some extra cushions.
And just.
Adjust your body in any way that it needs.
It's worth the extra effort to ensure.
That you are fully comfortable, warm and supported. And when it's safe to do so.
Allow your eyes to gently close.
And take a long, deep breath in through.
Your nose.
And sigh it out through your mouth and feel the weight of.
Your body supported by the surface beneath.
You, safe, grounded here. And as you breathe, imagine the cool scent of autumn air filling your lungs and feel the weight of the day release as you sigh it out. And can you now just imagine, only imagine now, that you're standing at the edge of a forest and the light is golden, filtered through a canopy of crimson and amber leaves, and the path before you is soft with moss and fallen leaves. Each step you take sinks gently into.
The earth.
A reminder that you are held always. And as you walk, you notice the quiet rhythm of the forest. The trees creak softly in the wind and the leaves drift down like slow motion, confetti catching the light as they fall. And in this golden silence, you realize that every tree here is a master of letting go. And you stop before one particularly beautiful oak tree. Its trunk is weathered and strong, scarred in places, but deeply rooted. It has weathered many storms just as you have, and you reach out and rest your hand on its back, feeling the faint hum of life moving beneath, and a breeze moves through the branches. And one leaf begins to loosen. And you watch as it twirls through the air, landing softly at your feet. And somehow.
You know that this leaf.
Represents something in your life. Something you've been holding on to. A belief that doesn't serve you. A habit, an old fear. You don't need to name it, just feel it. Feel the weight of holding. And then, on your next out breath, allow it to fall.
Good.
That's right. And another leaf loosens. And another. Each one a gentle release. Another piece of old weight returning to the earth, ready to nourish the soil. And you begin to walk again. And with every step, imagine more leaves falling around you, drifting down in slow spirals, slowly, softly drifting down and down and down. Each one a soft whisper of gentle surrender. And as you continue through the forest, you start to notice what you're noticing. What catches your attention first. A bird chirping in the distance. The sound of wind weaving through the branches. The pattern of light on the path. The rhythm of your breath. There's no right way to notice, only this gentle act of being aware. Perhaps you feel drawn to a single leaf spinning slowly to the ground. Or perhaps it's the scent of damp earth that anchors you deeper into this moment. Simply observe as if you are both the witness and the participant part of the forest, and also the awareness that beholds it. And every time your mind drifts to thought.
Gently bring it back by whispering inwardly.
I notice that I am noticing and feel the subtle shift that happens.
The.
Space that opens between awareness and reaction. This space is where presence lives. It's the pause that turns experience into wisdom. Stay here for a few breaths, simply noticing the noticing, and allow this forest and this moment to see you too. And you realize you're surrounded by release, A living reminder that letting go is not an ending. It's how life renews itself as you continue on. You come to a small clearing, and in the center is a still pond, perfectly reflecting the sky above. And you kneel beside it and see your reflection ripple. And for a moment, you feel the passing of time, the seasons of your own life mirrored back to you. And you see the parts of yourself you've outgrown, the roles you've played, the things you've lost. And then you see the space those losses have made. Space for new light, new stories, new beginnings. The pond's surface calms, and your reflection smiles back at you, softer now, freer. And in the distance, a gust of wind stirs the treetops. It sweeps across the forest like A wave, a sound both powerful and kind. And you stand and open your arms, letting the wind move through you. And it carries away the residue of all that you've released, the shoulds, the have to's, the expectations, the fears. And you are left lighter, clearer, rooted, but flexible, like the trees themselves. And you sense their wisdom now that to endure, they must yield. That strength comes not from clinging, but from allowing. And for a moment, the golden light intensifies and the whole forest seems to shimmer. And you realize you are a part of this cycle, not separate from it. You too are nature changing, shedding, growing. You too are allowed to release what no longer fits. And take a slow, deep breath in. And as you exhale, whisper softly to yourself. I let go with grace. Let these words settle into your heart. Good. That's right. And now imagine one final leaf falling, perhaps the most beautiful of them all. And it lands in your open palm. And you watch it glow softly, then dissolve into light, soaking gently into your skin, a reminder that nothing truly leaves us. It simply transforms. Stay here for a few more breaths. Breathing, being, belonging. And when you're ready, begin to bring your awareness back. Notice your body resting where you are, the weight of your limbs, the rhythm of your breath.
And carry with you.
The calm of the forest, the knowing that you can always return here anytime you need to release. Thank you so much for joining me.
For this week's mindful Monday. And if you'd like to continue your journey of calm and reconnection, you can find me on Insight Timer, where I share guided meditations, yoga, nidras, bedtime stories.
And courses to help you reconnect with your body and your inner wisdom.
And I hope you'll join me next.
Week for episode seven, Nature's Metaphors, Learning from the Language of the Wild, where we'll explore how the natural world mirrors our inner life in extraordinary ways. Until then, may you move gently through the week, letting go with grace, trusting each season, and remembering you are a part of nature's rhythm and you are always becoming.
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Julie Koehler
On his first day back in the White House, Donald Trump signed a controversial executive order stating that there were only two genders, male and female, and that those genders are tied to biological sex. This statement was simple and devastating, and it signaled that the gender backlash had reached a boiling point. I'm Julie Koehler, the host of White Picket Fence. This season, we're examining the many faces of this gender backlash, how it's showing up in our politics and culture. It's a scary time, but it's also a moment for imagination. What becomes possible when we imagine a better future? Subscribe to White Picket Fence Wherever you listen to podcasts.
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Podcast: The Neurodivergent Experience
Hosts: Jordan James & Simon Scott
Series: Mindful Mondays
Episode: The Beauty of Letting Go | Autumn Leaves & Seasonal Change
Guest Host: Ashley Bentley
Date: October 12, 2025
This “Mindful Mondays” episode, hosted by Ashley Bentley, centers on the theme of letting go—drawing inspiration from autumn’s natural process of change and shedding. Through gentle reflections and a guided meditation, Ashley explores how embracing change and releasing attachments can be transformative, especially for neurodivergent individuals who may find change particularly challenging. The episode aims to encourage presence, acceptance, and self-compassion while highlighting nature as both a teacher and a mirror for personal growth.
Ashley Bentley’s delivery is gentle, poetic, and compassionate. She blends personal storytelling with wisdom from nature, Buddhist philosophy, and practical mindfulness. The language is accessible and soothing, especially accommodating for neurodivergent listeners who may find comfort in structure and ritual.
This episode offers a resonant metaphor for change, grounding neurodivergent journeys in the wisdom of nature’s rhythms. Listeners are left with gentle invitations for self-reflection, a toolkit for navigating transitions, and the encouragement to release what no longer serves them—with the same effortless grace shown by autumn trees.
Next Episode Tease:
Episode 7, “Nature’s Metaphors: Learning from the Language of the Wild," will explore how the natural world mirrors and supports our inner lives.
Contact & Participation:
Listeners are encouraged to share their nature metaphors via email: mindfulmondayspodcastmail.com, for a chance to be featured in future episodes.
For further guided practices:
Find Ashley on Insight Timer for meditations, yoga nidras, and bedtime stories focused on inner wisdom and calm.