Leaves Fall, Leaders Don’t Have To

A reflection on seasons, shedding, and staying rooted

As the air turns crisp and the leaves begin their annual descent, it’s tempting for even the most grounded among us to feel a dip, whether in energy, motivation, or morale. The long days of summer are behind us, the sunlight stretches shorter, and the rhythm of work starts to feel heavier. But just because the leaves fall doesn’t mean we have to.

In fact, this season can be a powerful invitation for leaders to root deeper, let go of what no longer serves, and make space for new growth.

Nature’s Nudge: Letting Go Without Losing Ground

Trees don’t resist the shedding of their leaves. They don’t panic when their branches look bare. They understand that what once served them now makes way for something different. What if we approached leadership the same way?

Autumn reminds us that release isn’t failure, it’s wisdom. It’s pruning. It’s necessary. As leaders, we often hold tightly to roles, routines, meetings, or mindsets that no longer contribute to our purpose or progress. Fall is a season that grants us permission to assess what we’ve outgrown without guilt.

I remember a time in my own leadership when I held onto a routine report that I thought was essential. Every month, like clockwork, I produced it. I assumed my team needed it. I assumed it mattered. But one fall, during a season of honest evaluation, I finally asked them: What value is this report really bringing us? The room was quiet. No one could justify why it needed to continue. And in that moment, we collectively gave ourselves permission to let it go. It was liberating. Not just to stop the report, but to stop doing things “because we’ve always done them.” It reminded us to question more often, to challenge outdated routines, and to bravely release what no longer fits.

What expectations have you outlived?

What habits or thought patterns no longer align with who you’re becoming?

What’s ready to drop, not because it’s bad, but because it’s done its job?

Staying Grounded as the Wind Picks Up

Let’s be honest, this time of year can be unmooring. The shift in daylight, back-to-back responsibilities, looming year-end goals, and personal fatigue can feel like swirling leaves around your feet. But strong leaders root down when things speed up.

This came into sharp focus for me during the pandemic, especially during the hardest months of leading in healthcare. The world was chaotic, our teams were overwhelmed, and I found myself needing to reset, daily. I began a simple practice: 15 minutes each morning before heading to the office, I would write down who I wanted to show up for that day and how I wanted to show up for them. These were quiet but powerful affirmations.  They were specific, intentional, and deeply grounding. They helped me recommit not just to my team, but to myself. It was my personal anchor, and it became a leadership habit I still carry forward.

This is the time to revisit your why, anchor your team in shared values, and carve out small but intentional rituals of steadiness. Whether it’s weekly check-ins that foster connection, pausing to acknowledge team wins, or giving yourself 10 minutes of quiet at the start of your day, these grounding practices create resilience, not rigidity.

Your Energy Is Seasonal, Too

Just like nature, we aren’t meant to be in full bloom all the time. Leaders are not exempt from seasonal shifts in energy. You might feel a bit slower, a little less inspired, or even question your drive. This is not a crisis, it’s a cycle.

This isn’t about pushing through at all costs. It’s about adjusting your leadership cadence, checking your emotional inventory, and aligning your expectations with reality. Productivity doesn’t always look like acceleration; sometimes, it looks like integration. Slowing down to absorb, reflect, and plan from a more intentional place.

Fall Forward, Not Apart

So, as the leaves drop outside your window, consider what you can gently release to step more fully into your leadership this season. Fall isn’t a falling apart. It’s a falling into the next version of who you’re meant to be.

Rooted. Resilient. Ready for what’s next.

Let the leaves fall. You don’t have to.