Guys it’s Autumn! We know this because #septemberfirst has been trending on Twitter, and lots of people are sharing the news that they have already put their central heating on because the weather is just so freaking autumnal (as it currently stands it looks set to get warmer and sunny again later in the week but we’re British, and thus have we ever let the actual weather get in the way of a good narrative arc).
But the end of summer isn’t just about the air getting colder and the nights becoming longer and buying a new winter coat, and a chunky knit that never looks as good on as you think it’s going to and washes terribly. It’s about a new start: it’s the grown-up equivalent of a new school year when you’ve just moved towns, even for those of us who haven’t been anywhere near a school in the last 20 years and last wore a school uniform to get into the School Disco at the Hammersmith Palais in 2004. The possibilities for who you can be and what you can achieve are endless. Forget new year, there’s no reinvention quite like a September reinvention.
And the planning! Why does September make us so obsessed with planning things? This morning three different friends messaged me to ask about dates to meet up this autumn, and I’ve had at least one question asking what our ‘plans are for Christmas.’ Never mind the fact that by mid October Kettering will probably one super spreader away from total lockdown, we’ve got plans to make and brand new, pristine diaries to fill.
I do it as much as everyone else. Every year I still buy a new notebook for work on my summer holiday in August*, ready to use when I’m back home and the hard graft begins (which sounds misleadingly like I’ve gone all French and had my feet up on a sun lounger on a beach near La Rochelle since the start of August, but this is categorically untrue).
Every time I do, that new notebook brings with it the promise that this time I’ll be better. I’ll be more organised, I’ll write concise to do lists each morning that I’ll work through methodically. I’ll actually start a new day on the next page in the book rather than opening is at random in a panic and jotting down some indecipherable shorthand in a meeting that means absolutely nothing when I revisit it an hour later. I’ll keep a running list of other errands and lists in the book, which I’ll remember to refer back to at the relevant points - Christmas gift ideas, things I need to buy for my son, all the household bills that need paying annually. In short, I’ll become more organised and efficient, and thus a happier person. I’ll probably actually be a better human being, such is the power of a new notebook in September.
And like everything else associated with 2020, this year is worse than ever. Everyone I’ve spoken to, everything I’ve seen on social media is telling me that we’re treating this Autumn with an almost spiritual reverence. A new start doesn’t just mean that we’ll start remembering to pre-book our Ocado slots as soon as they become available, it means things are sort-of back to normal, we’ve got a routine. We’re making plans for the future just because we can.
Throughout the summer September was held up as the point at which things would star to ‘go back to normal,’ - we’d be tentatively back in the office, schools would reopen, we’d all be back in Pret spending all our money on cheese sandwiches with gay abandon! It made no sense, after all, we’re about to head into winter, when most experts agree the Coronavirus is likely to flourish again, but now we’re sort of there, going to a restaurant, making a plan to head into the office for a meeting, dropping our children off at nursery doesn’t seem quite as scary an unimaginable as it did eight weeks ago. And as much as we nodded along solemnly when Chris Whitty reminded us that opening too many things up at once could well see us tip into a second wave, and we’re really strict about wearing our masks in shops and on trains, and we always sanitise our hands, except when we’ve had a few drinks and forget, none of that seems real when we’ve got a shiny new notebook full of lists and plans, dates for the diary.
Clinical psychologist Linda Blair agrees. ’September first would be a much better New Year’s Eve day than January first. By January we’re totally depleted - it’s dark, we’re exhausted, broke from Christmas and it’s not a good time to try and be realistic about what we might look forward to. September is great, and it’s also a habit, and one you’ll have had since you were five and used September as a new start for the school year.’
The key, according to Blair, is to set goals, and make plans, but to keep them realistic and relatively short term (she cautions against making any Christmas plans just yet, for those of you already googling alternative turkey recipes). ‘It’s a healthy habit and more than ever this year, people are desperate to have things to look forward to. We’er so wary of uncertainty. If you set a goal - a reasonable goal - then you’re likely to put certainty in your life.’
But Blair still urges caution. 'You have to make plans in tune with the times - if you set goals that are too far ahead, and I’d say too far ahead is more than two weeks, if they’re too big - for example if it’s something you couldn’t have achieved in normal times - then I’d say halve that.
'Check with your best friend what goals you’ve set - we’re always so realistic with our friends, we expect oo much of ourselves, check out with friends, do you think this is a reasonable expectation?'
When I saw all the September gumpf on social media this morning I rolled my eyes - in the first instance I questioned our desire to reset ourselves periodically (my own included). If we can’t get our acts together the rest of the year, why should September be any different? But the more I’ve thought about it today, the more I’ve realised that having something to look forward to, goals to work towards that aren’t baking some banana bread and doing an online yoga class, are so important for our happiness. The rhythm of life is what keeps us moving forward, and we’ve all been deprived of that for long enough. Let’s face it, the last six months have been shit, and we want out. Pinning all our hopes on September being our escape route may not be smart, but it’s all we’ve got.
The Key To Calm by Linda Blair is available to buy now