Nicole Junkerman on Carrying Curiosity into the Autumn

By the closing days of August most people have a rough sense of what the autumn contains. Rather fewer have decided what it is for. Nicole Junkerman has found that the difference between a season that stays interesting and one that is merely busy is settled in this narrow window, while there is still enough quiet to decide anything at all.

Curiosity is the first thing a busy season drops

When a month fills up, the things that go first are the things with no deadline attached. Reading outside the usual subjects. The unhurried walk. The question followed for its own sake. None of them will be missed in any given week, which is exactly why they disappear so completely.

By November the absence is felt, but it is hard to trace back to any particular decision, because no decision was ever made. The loss happens by default, one reasonable week at a time.

Decide now, not in October

The remedy is unglamorous. Decide in the last quiet week of August what will be protected, and protect it before there is anything to protect it from. A commitment made against an empty diary is far easier to keep than one made against a full one.

It helps to know what the protected time is for, in a single sentence, because a vague commitment loses every argument against a specific request while a clear one usually holds.

Four things worth keeping

The list is short on purpose. A long list of good intentions is really a decision not to decide.

• One recurring hour a week that belongs to nothing in particular, booked before the month begins.
• A reading list of no more than five things, at least one well outside the usual range.
• One walk a week at an unusual hour, which costs nothing and reliably produces something.
• A clean page for findings, since a finding that is not written down rarely survives the week.

One large thing, chosen in the calm

There is a case for treating the autumn as a season in its own right rather than as the run up to the end of the year. It has its own weather and its own rhythm, and it is long enough to hold something substantial: one piece of reading or thinking too big for a fortnight.

Choosing that one thing now, while nothing is pressing, is a better use of these days than any amount of scheduling. The choice is usually obvious once there is enough quiet to hear it, which is another argument for making it this week.

Finishing before starting

There is a second use for these days, which is closing rather than opening. Most people carry a few unfinished things from summer into autumn, unfinished only because the season changed underneath them. Clearing two or three now costs very little and changes the mood of September considerably.

The notebook is the natural place for it, since a surprising amount of what feels unfinished turns out to be unfinished in writing rather than in fact. The reading pages take whatever remains.

What protection actually looks like

Protecting an hour sounds simple and is not, because the hour will be asked for repeatedly and every request will be reasonable. Nothing dramatic threatens it. It is eroded by ordinary, sensible things, each easy to accommodate on its own.

The only defence that reliably works is a decision made in advance and treated as settled. It helps to know what the hour is for in a single sentence, because a vague commitment loses every argument against a specific request.

A little structure, placed carefully

None of this argues for a rigid season. An autumn planned to the hour is no better than one left entirely to chance, and it is considerably less pleasant. The aim is a small amount of structure placed where the season is weakest, which is at the beginning.

A short list, one protected hour and a clear sense of what the season is for will carry a great deal. Everything else can be decided as it arrives, which is how most of an autumn gets decided regardless.

Beginning without ceremony

None of this needs a system or a new notebook, although a fresh page helps. It needs an afternoon in the closing week of August, a short list, and enough conviction to keep the list short when September gets loud.

The companion note on the quietest week of the year makes the case for the quiet all of this depends on. Nicole Junkerman would rather begin the season properly than begin it early.