Mental Health
Harvest Living: On Gratitude, Growth, and Letting Go
Bri Holfoth
October 16, 2025
I used to think of abundance as something outside of me. Something I had to chase. Earn. Prove myself worthy of.
My life cracked open in my twenties. It was under the quiet weight of mental health struggles I had carried for years. But only then did I begin to understand abundance differently. A mentor handed me the simplest tool: a gratitude journal. Write ten things you're grateful for, every single day, and why.
I didn’t think it would work. But I did it anyway. Every morning, without fail, for a full year.
And somehow, without loud fireworks or sudden revelations- it changed me. Gratitude became a way back to myself. I started to feel tethered to the earth again. Connected to the moment. I found myself thanking life for the smallest things. I appreciated sunlight filtering through the blinds. I noticed the curve of my dog’s sleepy face. Even a difficult client taught me something.
That year of daily gratitude didn’t fix everything. But it did something more powerful: it matured me. It helped me see that life is hard and beautiful. That suffering will always be part of the deal, but so will joy. That we can hold space for both.
The Quiet Work of Becoming
What I’ve learned through practice, not theory, is that gratitude isn’t just a mindset. It’s a way of being with reality. It’s what helps us stop rushing past all that is good and already here.
And science backs this up. Studies from the Positive Psychology Institute show that 78% of adults report higher life satisfaction with regular gratitude practice. Even more striking: people who acknowledge abundance regularly experience 43% more daily fulfillment.
But this isn’t about numbers. It’s about how those practices grow us. That year of journaling became a gateway to personal growth. It called me to become a more peaceful version of myself. This change wasn't just for my sake. It was for everyone I touched: my family, my community, my clients, even strangers.
We don’t grow just for us. We grow because other people depend on how we show up.
And when we begin to embody peace, even quietly, people feel it. We become safer. Softer. Stronger.
Research from Self-Development Studies shows that 81% of people feel more confident when they engage in intentional growth. But here’s what I’d add: that confidence becomes a current. It ripples outward. The inner work is the real harvest.
Branching Out, Letting Go
Growth brought new people into my life. New conversations. New branches of connection I never could have anticipated when I was stuck in scarcity or self-doubt.
But it also meant letting go. Not everyone grows at the same pace. Some relationships fell away- not with bitterness, but with a gentle reverence. I still wish them well. We just grew in different directions.
That, too, is part of the harvest season: choosing what to gather, and what to release.
According to research from Life Cycle Studies, people who practice ritual-based harvest reflection reduce their fear of scarcity by 44%. Naming what we’ve gathered is deeply healing. Naming who we’ve become brings peace. We must accept that not everything comes with us into winter.
The Wisdom of Cycles
I keep coming back to the natural world. How every living thing follows a rhythm. How trees don’t cling to their leaves when it’s time to rest.
We’re made of water, over 60%. We’re influenced by the moon, the tides, the seasons. And yet we often forget we’re allowed to rest. That gathering and release are both sacred.
Research shows that people who consciously honor seasonal endings report 56% less anxiety about change. And that’s been true in my life, too.
The older I get, the more I understand that contentment and movement are not opposites. I can be grounded and growing. I can be grateful and still reaching.
That doesn’t mean hustling nonstop. It means aligning. Moving with clarity. Returning to what matters.
The Light We Carry
These days, I still meditate. I still write in my gratitude journal when I remember. I try to stay mindful of the conversations in my head. Even when I can’t quiet them, I try to stay connected to something bigger than me.
Because ultimately, the most meaningful harvest isn’t what I’ve achieved. It’s who I’ve become in relation to others.
How I show up in conversations.
How I listen.
How I share.
That’s the greatest abundance.
We are moving into the darker season. The quiet of winter, the invitation to rest. I keep reminding myself of something important. Gratitude isn’t just a practice. It’s a posture. A way of walking through the world with our hearts open, even when it’s hard.
Let’s gather what we can.
Let’s share what we have.
Let’s rest when it’s time.
And above all, let’s not forget:
We are already rich with life.
I used to think of abundance as something outside of me. Something I had to chase. Earn. Prove myself worthy of.
My life cracked open in my twenties. It was under the quiet weight of mental health struggles I had carried for years. But only then did I begin to understand abundance differently. A mentor handed me the simplest tool: a gratitude journal. Write ten things you're grateful for, every single day, and why.
I didn’t think it would work. But I did it anyway. Every morning, without fail, for a full year.
And somehow, without loud fireworks or sudden revelations- it changed me. Gratitude became a way back to myself. I started to feel tethered to the earth again. Connected to the moment. I found myself thanking life for the smallest things. I appreciated sunlight filtering through the blinds. I noticed the curve of my dog’s sleepy face. Even a difficult client taught me something.
That year of daily gratitude didn’t fix everything. But it did something more powerful: it matured me. It helped me see that life is hard and beautiful. That suffering will always be part of the deal, but so will joy. That we can hold space for both.
The Quiet Work of Becoming
What I’ve learned through practice, not theory, is that gratitude isn’t just a mindset. It’s a way of being with reality. It’s what helps us stop rushing past all that is good and already here.
And science backs this up. Studies from the Positive Psychology Institute show that 78% of adults report higher life satisfaction with regular gratitude practice. Even more striking: people who acknowledge abundance regularly experience 43% more daily fulfillment.
But this isn’t about numbers. It’s about how those practices grow us. That year of journaling became a gateway to personal growth. It called me to become a more peaceful version of myself. This change wasn't just for my sake. It was for everyone I touched: my family, my community, my clients, even strangers.
We don’t grow just for us. We grow because other people depend on how we show up.
And when we begin to embody peace, even quietly, people feel it. We become safer. Softer. Stronger.
Research from Self-Development Studies shows that 81% of people feel more confident when they engage in intentional growth. But here’s what I’d add: that confidence becomes a current. It ripples outward. The inner work is the real harvest.
Branching Out, Letting Go
Growth brought new people into my life. New conversations. New branches of connection I never could have anticipated when I was stuck in scarcity or self-doubt.
But it also meant letting go. Not everyone grows at the same pace. Some relationships fell away- not with bitterness, but with a gentle reverence. I still wish them well. We just grew in different directions.
That, too, is part of the harvest season: choosing what to gather, and what to release.
According to research from Life Cycle Studies, people who practice ritual-based harvest reflection reduce their fear of scarcity by 44%. Naming what we’ve gathered is deeply healing. Naming who we’ve become brings peace. We must accept that not everything comes with us into winter.
The Wisdom of Cycles
I keep coming back to the natural world. How every living thing follows a rhythm. How trees don’t cling to their leaves when it’s time to rest.
We’re made of water, over 60%. We’re influenced by the moon, the tides, the seasons. And yet we often forget we’re allowed to rest. That gathering and release are both sacred.
Research shows that people who consciously honor seasonal endings report 56% less anxiety about change. And that’s been true in my life, too.
The older I get, the more I understand that contentment and movement are not opposites. I can be grounded and growing. I can be grateful and still reaching.
That doesn’t mean hustling nonstop. It means aligning. Moving with clarity. Returning to what matters.
The Light We Carry
These days, I still meditate. I still write in my gratitude journal when I remember. I try to stay mindful of the conversations in my head. Even when I can’t quiet them, I try to stay connected to something bigger than me.
Because ultimately, the most meaningful harvest isn’t what I’ve achieved. It’s who I’ve become in relation to others.
How I show up in conversations.
How I listen.
How I share.
That’s the greatest abundance.
We are moving into the darker season. The quiet of winter, the invitation to rest. I keep reminding myself of something important. Gratitude isn’t just a practice. It’s a posture. A way of walking through the world with our hearts open, even when it’s hard.
Let’s gather what we can.
Let’s share what we have.
Let’s rest when it’s time.
And above all, let’s not forget:
We are already rich with life.
I used to think of abundance as something outside of me. Something I had to chase. Earn. Prove myself worthy of.
My life cracked open in my twenties. It was under the quiet weight of mental health struggles I had carried for years. But only then did I begin to understand abundance differently. A mentor handed me the simplest tool: a gratitude journal. Write ten things you're grateful for, every single day, and why.
I didn’t think it would work. But I did it anyway. Every morning, without fail, for a full year.
And somehow, without loud fireworks or sudden revelations- it changed me. Gratitude became a way back to myself. I started to feel tethered to the earth again. Connected to the moment. I found myself thanking life for the smallest things. I appreciated sunlight filtering through the blinds. I noticed the curve of my dog’s sleepy face. Even a difficult client taught me something.
That year of daily gratitude didn’t fix everything. But it did something more powerful: it matured me. It helped me see that life is hard and beautiful. That suffering will always be part of the deal, but so will joy. That we can hold space for both.
The Quiet Work of Becoming
What I’ve learned through practice, not theory, is that gratitude isn’t just a mindset. It’s a way of being with reality. It’s what helps us stop rushing past all that is good and already here.
And science backs this up. Studies from the Positive Psychology Institute show that 78% of adults report higher life satisfaction with regular gratitude practice. Even more striking: people who acknowledge abundance regularly experience 43% more daily fulfillment.
But this isn’t about numbers. It’s about how those practices grow us. That year of journaling became a gateway to personal growth. It called me to become a more peaceful version of myself. This change wasn't just for my sake. It was for everyone I touched: my family, my community, my clients, even strangers.
We don’t grow just for us. We grow because other people depend on how we show up.
And when we begin to embody peace, even quietly, people feel it. We become safer. Softer. Stronger.
Research from Self-Development Studies shows that 81% of people feel more confident when they engage in intentional growth. But here’s what I’d add: that confidence becomes a current. It ripples outward. The inner work is the real harvest.
Branching Out, Letting Go
Growth brought new people into my life. New conversations. New branches of connection I never could have anticipated when I was stuck in scarcity or self-doubt.
But it also meant letting go. Not everyone grows at the same pace. Some relationships fell away- not with bitterness, but with a gentle reverence. I still wish them well. We just grew in different directions.
That, too, is part of the harvest season: choosing what to gather, and what to release.
According to research from Life Cycle Studies, people who practice ritual-based harvest reflection reduce their fear of scarcity by 44%. Naming what we’ve gathered is deeply healing. Naming who we’ve become brings peace. We must accept that not everything comes with us into winter.
The Wisdom of Cycles
I keep coming back to the natural world. How every living thing follows a rhythm. How trees don’t cling to their leaves when it’s time to rest.
We’re made of water, over 60%. We’re influenced by the moon, the tides, the seasons. And yet we often forget we’re allowed to rest. That gathering and release are both sacred.
Research shows that people who consciously honor seasonal endings report 56% less anxiety about change. And that’s been true in my life, too.
The older I get, the more I understand that contentment and movement are not opposites. I can be grounded and growing. I can be grateful and still reaching.
That doesn’t mean hustling nonstop. It means aligning. Moving with clarity. Returning to what matters.
The Light We Carry
These days, I still meditate. I still write in my gratitude journal when I remember. I try to stay mindful of the conversations in my head. Even when I can’t quiet them, I try to stay connected to something bigger than me.
Because ultimately, the most meaningful harvest isn’t what I’ve achieved. It’s who I’ve become in relation to others.
How I show up in conversations.
How I listen.
How I share.
That’s the greatest abundance.
We are moving into the darker season. The quiet of winter, the invitation to rest. I keep reminding myself of something important. Gratitude isn’t just a practice. It’s a posture. A way of walking through the world with our hearts open, even when it’s hard.
Let’s gather what we can.
Let’s share what we have.
Let’s rest when it’s time.
And above all, let’s not forget:
We are already rich with life.
I used to think of abundance as something outside of me. Something I had to chase. Earn. Prove myself worthy of.
My life cracked open in my twenties. It was under the quiet weight of mental health struggles I had carried for years. But only then did I begin to understand abundance differently. A mentor handed me the simplest tool: a gratitude journal. Write ten things you're grateful for, every single day, and why.
I didn’t think it would work. But I did it anyway. Every morning, without fail, for a full year.
And somehow, without loud fireworks or sudden revelations- it changed me. Gratitude became a way back to myself. I started to feel tethered to the earth again. Connected to the moment. I found myself thanking life for the smallest things. I appreciated sunlight filtering through the blinds. I noticed the curve of my dog’s sleepy face. Even a difficult client taught me something.
That year of daily gratitude didn’t fix everything. But it did something more powerful: it matured me. It helped me see that life is hard and beautiful. That suffering will always be part of the deal, but so will joy. That we can hold space for both.
The Quiet Work of Becoming
What I’ve learned through practice, not theory, is that gratitude isn’t just a mindset. It’s a way of being with reality. It’s what helps us stop rushing past all that is good and already here.
And science backs this up. Studies from the Positive Psychology Institute show that 78% of adults report higher life satisfaction with regular gratitude practice. Even more striking: people who acknowledge abundance regularly experience 43% more daily fulfillment.
But this isn’t about numbers. It’s about how those practices grow us. That year of journaling became a gateway to personal growth. It called me to become a more peaceful version of myself. This change wasn't just for my sake. It was for everyone I touched: my family, my community, my clients, even strangers.
We don’t grow just for us. We grow because other people depend on how we show up.
And when we begin to embody peace, even quietly, people feel it. We become safer. Softer. Stronger.
Research from Self-Development Studies shows that 81% of people feel more confident when they engage in intentional growth. But here’s what I’d add: that confidence becomes a current. It ripples outward. The inner work is the real harvest.
Branching Out, Letting Go
Growth brought new people into my life. New conversations. New branches of connection I never could have anticipated when I was stuck in scarcity or self-doubt.
But it also meant letting go. Not everyone grows at the same pace. Some relationships fell away- not with bitterness, but with a gentle reverence. I still wish them well. We just grew in different directions.
That, too, is part of the harvest season: choosing what to gather, and what to release.
According to research from Life Cycle Studies, people who practice ritual-based harvest reflection reduce their fear of scarcity by 44%. Naming what we’ve gathered is deeply healing. Naming who we’ve become brings peace. We must accept that not everything comes with us into winter.
The Wisdom of Cycles
I keep coming back to the natural world. How every living thing follows a rhythm. How trees don’t cling to their leaves when it’s time to rest.
We’re made of water, over 60%. We’re influenced by the moon, the tides, the seasons. And yet we often forget we’re allowed to rest. That gathering and release are both sacred.
Research shows that people who consciously honor seasonal endings report 56% less anxiety about change. And that’s been true in my life, too.
The older I get, the more I understand that contentment and movement are not opposites. I can be grounded and growing. I can be grateful and still reaching.
That doesn’t mean hustling nonstop. It means aligning. Moving with clarity. Returning to what matters.
The Light We Carry
These days, I still meditate. I still write in my gratitude journal when I remember. I try to stay mindful of the conversations in my head. Even when I can’t quiet them, I try to stay connected to something bigger than me.
Because ultimately, the most meaningful harvest isn’t what I’ve achieved. It’s who I’ve become in relation to others.
How I show up in conversations.
How I listen.
How I share.
That’s the greatest abundance.
We are moving into the darker season. The quiet of winter, the invitation to rest. I keep reminding myself of something important. Gratitude isn’t just a practice. It’s a posture. A way of walking through the world with our hearts open, even when it’s hard.
Let’s gather what we can.
Let’s share what we have.
Let’s rest when it’s time.
And above all, let’s not forget:
We are already rich with life.
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Copyright ©2021-2024 Cadre LLC. All rights reserved.
Subscribe to the newsletter
Download the app
Copyright ©2021-2024 Cadre LLC. All rights reserved.