All change

As August begins to wind down, there’s that unmistakable feeling in the air — the quiet shift before the calendar turns. The evenings are still light, but the sun dips just a little earlier. The hedgerows are heavy with berries, and there’s a faint crispness sneaking into the mornings.

It’s not September yet, but I can feel it coming. And with it, change.

Change in the seasons.

Change in our routines.

Change in my children’s worlds — and if I’m honest, in mine too.

When Change is Personal

For my daughter, September will bring a new special one-to-one assistant in class. Thankfully, her teacher is one she’s had before — a familiar and trusted face in a world that can feel unpredictable.

She’s autistic, and for her, change can be a lot. Predictability is comfort. Comfort is safety. A new assistant means a new way of communicating, different routines, and a whole relationship to build from scratch.

We’re doing the prep already: talking about it in little bursts, revisiting the classroom in our minds, and making sure she knows she can carry her favourite popper fidget toy in her bag. That small constant will be her anchor when the waves of newness roll in.

My son’s change is even bigger — a move to a brand-new school in a new town. Away from the friends he’s known for years. New subjects. New teachers. New uniform. New rules. And maybe, for the first time, taking the bus to school — though he’s already decided that means more time for football podcasts, so I’m counting that as a win.

It’s a lot for anyone, let alone a teenager navigating the maze of adolescence. But he’s taking it in his stride — even if that stride is a little uncertain right now.

Why is Change So Hard?

I keep asking myself this. Why does change, even good change, make us feel unsettled?

Maybe it’s because the old way is familiar. We know its edges, even if they were rough. The new way is untested. We don’t yet know if it will feel right, or if we’ll feel right in it.

Change demands trust. Trust that we’ll adapt. Trust that we’ll cope. Trust that something good will come out of the shift.

For my children, that trust begins with me. I’m their safe harbour, the one who says, “It’s okay, we’ve got this,” and makes them believe it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t need to remind myself too — because I know from experience that change is where the growth hides.

Me? I Love Change. Mostly.

I’ll admit it: I’m one of those people who thrives on fresh starts. I love a challenge, a new opportunity, something different to sink my teeth into.

And I definitely love the change of seasons — the way each one brings its own light, its own pace, its own magic.

But even for someone like me, there’s a difference between choosing change and having it land on your doorstep uninvited. Some changes arrive like an exciting guest, others like a delivery you forgot you ordered.

The Bigger Picture – Stormont, Leadership, and the Changes We Need

Watching these personal changes unfold has got me thinking about the kind of change we need at a bigger level — in our politics, in our leadership.

If I’m honest, I wish Stormont embraced change the way the seasons do — without fear, without endless delays, without clinging to the familiar just because it’s familiar.

Too often it feels stuck, trapped in the comfort zone of caution. Decisions are delayed. Opportunities pass us by. The same old lines are drawn and redrawn, while real needs go unmet.

I want leaders who are willing to step out of the loop and try something different. Who can say:

We’ll take a new approach.

We’ll make changes that change lives.

We’ll work for cohesion, not division.

That’s the kind of change worth making — the bold kind that asks, “What kind of society do we want to be?” and then actually starts building it.

Making Change Easier – Big or Small

Whether it’s a child starting at a new school, a family moving to a new home, or a government taking a new direction, easing change takes the same principles:

Prepare for it. Don’t just jump in and hope. Take the time to get familiar with the new. Visit, talk, plan, break it into steps.

Acknowledge the discomfort. Change isn’t all excitement — sometimes it’s scary. That’s okay to say out loud.

Find your constants. For my daughter, it’s that popper fidget toy in her bag. For my son, it’s knowing the bus ride will be filled with football podcasts. For communities, it’s keeping shared spaces alive and welcoming.

Stay open to the good stuff. Change can surprise you in the best ways — but only if you let it.

The Seasons Show Us How

The seasons don’t wait for us to be ready. They shift because that’s what they do. One morning the light changes, the air smells different, and summer quietly hands the baton to autumn, and we adapt. We dig out the jumpers. We swap salads for soups. We start looking forward to the first frost or the first leaves turning gold.

Maybe that’s the lesson: change isn’t about replacing what was, but about making space for what’s next.

A Hopeful Note

As I watch my children prepare for their new beginnings, I’m reminded that change doesn’t have to be perfect to be worthwhile. It just has to move us forward.

They will miss what they leave behind. They will stumble. But they will also grow in ways they can’t yet imagine — and that’s the real gift of change.

The same goes for all of us — in our homes, in our communities, in our politics. Change can be messy. But without it, there’s no progress.

So here’s my hope as August draws to a close:

That my daughter finds comfort and trust in her new assistant.

That my son discovers new friends and a new sense of independence.

That our leaders choose courage over caution.

And that we all learn to welcome change the way the earth welcomes each new season — as part of the heartbeat of life.

Because if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s this:

Change is hard. But it’s also where the magic happens.

Love 

FiFi G xoxo