Understanding September, that respectable month that puts an end to all pretences – both with oneself and with others

September is a serious month, a respectable month. It has nothing to offer you because it never promised anything. September is not a month for reflection; it was August that made you think. The quirks of the calendar are over; now the waiting begins again, no matter what it’s for. Waiting – to each their own. It’s fine to wait for this to pass, too. September is a calm month, and calm is half the battle when it comes to happiness.

September does not compel one to seek enjoyment at all costs; some may choose to spend a few additional days at the coast, yet the sea may not appear as captivating as it does at other times. In September, the routines of others begin to align more closely with one’s own; a return to democracy, so to speak. September offers but one thing: normality—a quality, incidentally, often associated with great seducers.

September knows nothing of blackmail and doesn’t play silly priestly pranks; you can more or less predict what’s coming. Especially trouble. In September, if it’s going to rain, it usually does without too much fuss.

September drains the colour from you. It strips your skin away and leaves you pale and listless – is that you? Yes, yes, it’s you again; it’s that other person you thought you were who doesn’t exist.

September puts an end to the charade: must we really go, must we really stay, must we really have all this sun beating down on us, and must we really face up to the facts (too many of them – how are you with yourself, and how are you with others)? No, we can also drag our feet. September brings to a close the brief season of ostentatious displays of economic and emotional well-being and restores the true hierarchy – far more depressing, but at least honest. September washes away a considerable portion of our opinions, especially those about ourselves. Less time means fewer thoughts.

September leaves you alone and at peace in your room. September brings the sun down at a reasonable hour, and the evening is once again meant to be an evening. September brings you back to your good intentions: nothing is more powerful than new beginnings. New beginnings are always dazzling. Believing in them – whatever they may be – believing in them is all the happiness in the world. September, in its own way, is blue.

September does not make anyone better. Who told you that you would improve, that you would not be the usual weak and cowardly version of yourself? The little, limping subhuman who pretends to be super for a month. September is clever. And I read somewhere that intelligence can be measured by the amount of uncertainty one proves capable of enduring. September does not send you off to places around the world; September wants you to stay put, and although few admit it, there is no health outside the cave – the mind is only at ease at home. September is a month of strange enthusiasm, not made of the stuff we are used to; it is a slow-burning enthusiasm. Something is stirring in the depths; we are about to change – each of us in our own small way, but we do change. September is down-to-earth: small illusions instead of grand ones. September doesn’t ask, ‘So, do you like it?’, ‘So, how’s it going?’, ‘So, now that you’ve stopped, let’s take stock of your life’; September knows we can’t answer any of that, so it keeps our hands busy doing something. We’ll think about happiness another time. In September, we regain our credibility. September makes you admit the ultimate truth: that so often, coming back is better than leaving, but nobody would dream of saying so because ‘leaving’ is one of those youthful notions that’s supposedly only acceptable for younger people.

September pushes you towards indifference – first to the weather, then to the darkness, and eventually to just about everything. September retrains you to face whatever comes your way. September is mild, yet in this context mildness is not a flaw. It does not insist that a breath of fresh air will ennoble you, nor does it behave like a typical summer month that demands an appearance of liveliness. September offers a form of liberation: no one is better equipped to navigate life than you. It does not press the point; instead, it invites you to begin anew with what you have, and that is sufficient.