A Soft Place to Land
Won't that be nice
I learned from my good friend that in her line of work they have a term for this time of year: DEVOLSON.
Dark Evil Vortex Of Late September, October, and November.
Now, historically I generally have not been affected by the changing of the seasons this time of year. In fact, I usually embrace them. The end of summer can’t come fast enough when it’s been boiling all day every day for months. The crispness of fall means rest for me; a slowing down, a time to breathe deeply in air that feels fresh from the returning rains. It’s a time to go inside and find a soft place to land, something comfortable, warm, embracing.
However, this autumn—like last year’s—has left me cold. All the softness of my landing has hardened; the soul nourishing seasonal rhythms have smoothed into sad quietness and stillness.
DEVOLSON, it seems, will not be denied this year, either.
I am thrust now into a new phase of self-reflection, a moment to look back on the year and look forward towards the next. I am reminded that there are no assurances in life and that my choices will always stay with me. But I am also reminded that the choices of others have and will continue to stay with me, be them of those people who are closest in my life or those so distant that I struggle sometimes to acknowledge they are in fact a part of my life, too. These reminders show me that my body does keep the score, but so too does my soul.
Throughout my life, I’ve loved what I done. I’ve been able to dive into my favorite subject and share that passion with thousands of people. That doesn’t happen for everybody. Most are lucky if they even get a job in the field they like, much less love dearly. I have put my soul in my work, and it’s kept track of that. But it’s also kept track of my shortcomings and failures. It’s kept track of when things did not turn out the way I had hoped. It’s kept track of trees I’ve lost, people I’ve lost, battles I’ve lost. It measures the balance, and somehow the universe seems to always keep that measurement in balance: with something great, comes something to temper it.
I am feeling that universal rebalancing right now.
I am a person who feels things deeply. I sit with my gratitude and consider it. I also sit with my grief and explore why I am feeling it. I sit with my unease and my comfort, I sit with the devils inside me and introduce them to my angels. I do not move on from heavy things quickly because I want them to be fully examined and dissected before being stored away in their proper places with their proper bedfellows.
As I experience my DEVOLSON this year, I will sit with it. Invite it in, draw it, speak to it, ask it what it’s doing and why. Then I will let it go and turn towards the rising sun on my horizon.
I have a particular interpretation of optimism that I have used for many years now. Essentially, it’s a mixture of what we call today manifesting and my own particular way of storing experiences—namely less than positive experiences—in my soul. I’ll try to explain it more sometime, I promise, but for now I want to end an emotional post with what I am manifesting through this optimism and where you can come see me this fall to add your spirit to mine.
Next year, I am going to embark on a journey across the west. I am going to leave my home in Portland and take myself to places I’ve never been to see things I’ve never seen. I’m going to rest my heart and my mind and be guided by the things I encounter: the trees, the rivers, the stones, the animals, the people. At the same time, I am going to shake myself from the all-too-comfortable flow of life I have found myself feeling stifled in. I am going to break down a structure that has been build ad hoc and rebuild it with intention. I am going to leave in order to come back. I And when I do come back, I hope to have a soft place to land.
This weekend, I will speaking a Good Year Farms and I’ll be talking on a subject that I am very excited about: The Tree Agenda. Good Year Farms is a wonderful native plant nursery out in Clark County, WA, and they’re hosting me for a great brunch and learn. Tickets are limited, so sign up as soon as you can.





Love you Casey. Thanks for sharing everything you do. Growth requires some pain. Vulnerability makes you good.
Yeah. And this resonated with me, too. Thank you for taking the time to put into words that which I’ve struggled to verbalize. Pax caritas.
🌲❤️👍🌳