by Katie Simons, PharmD, CCHT
It's pumpkin spice season again. The leaves are turning, the mornings have that crisp bite, and suddenly everything from coffee to candles to dog treats tastes and smells like cinnamon and nutmeg. I realize pumpkin spice is a polarizing topic. You either love it or you can't stand it. I personally love it. But regardless of which side of the fence you stand on, the topic of “pumpkin spice suffering” still applies. So I invite you to grab your seasonal beverage of choice and keep reading.
I was introduced to the idea of pumpkin spice suffering a few years back by my wonderful medicine family. We were in the middle of a process of ceremonies, and the topic of suffering came up, as it tends to around ceremony. Somewhere in that conversation, the difference between suffering and pumpkin spice suffering was jokingly laid out for me. We laughed. But it stuck with me, because there was a whole lot of truth folded inside it.
Suffering is the pain that often accompanies the challenges of life. We can be faced with it, and sometimes, sucked into it. The pain of suffering is real. Oftentimes, it shows us our growth edge, our humanity, our rawness, and our capacity. Pumpkin spice suffering is different. It's the suffering we choose, oftentimes without any awareness that we are choosing it.
Think about the pumpkin spice latte for a second. It's sweet. It's comforting. It's familiar. It shows up right on schedule every single year, and we line up for it, even when we know the sugar crash is coming an hour later. That's the flavor of this kind of suffering. It feels good, or at least familiar, in the moment. And we keep coming back for more.
Of course I looked up the etymology of the word suffer, because you know me by now. It comes from the Latin sufferre, meaning “to carry from beneath.” To suffer is to carry a weight that is bearing down on you.
Sometimes that weight is truly inescapable. Life has placed something heavy upon us: a loss, an illness, grief, a circumstance or a system we have no power to walk away from. We must bear it until it lightens. There is no shame in carrying that kind of weight, and no one gets to call it pumpkin spice. That pain deserves our tenderness, our patience, and all the support we can gather around us. And sometimes, we choose to carry the weight. We pick it up, again and again, and then wonder why our backs hurt.
So what does pumpkin spice suffering look like?
How about that night of partying that leaves you feeling like trash the next day, and you keep doing it every weekend because it's fun, and a night in, alone, is terrifying. Or the job that drains all your energy, that you genuinely hate, and you stay because of the money. Or the relationship full of red flags that leaves you feeling unsupported, and you keep coming back because you don't want to be lonely. Or the spending habits that feel so exciting when the new shoes, the new car, or the new class arrives, and yet leave the funds lacking for necessities and long-term goals.
There's a flip side, too. Pumpkin spice suffering also shows up in the choices we make to not do the things we know will support us in the long run. Staying home on the couch when we know that yoga class would feel so good afterward. Sleeping in that extra 15-30 minutes when we know that spending that time in meditation or gratitude would make the whole day better. Working late to get one more thing done when we know that connecting with our partner, family, or roommate would fill a part of us that work never will.
Now, in case you're feeling called out, let me reassure you: we all do this. There is not one person alive who hasn't. So before you start mentally listing every pumpkin spice choice you've made this year and beating yourself up over each one, please don't. That would just be another flavor of pumpkin spice suffering. (See how sneaky it is?)
The key to transforming pumpkin spice suffering into a growth edge is awareness: noticing the places in life where we are using our choice to carry something that isn't serving us. There is always choice in these spaces.
I recently heard someone say, "I am 100% responsible for my happiness. I am 100% responsible for my misery." What a statement! We often forget that the things that make us suffer can oftentimes be put down. So what keeps us carrying the choices that make us miserable? Many things. And often, the root is fear. Fear that we will be uncomfortable, lonely, rejected, sad, abandoned, guilty, humiliated, sore, angry, out of place, inadequate, raw…you name it.
Our nervous systems are programmed to keep us from feeling these feelings. It's a primal survival strategy, and it's the reason a familiar ache can feel so much safer than an unfamiliar freedom. In other words, we are programmed to suffer, to carry the weight. Yet deep down, we know what truly serves us. We then get to exercise our higher free will to put the weight down. It's not necessarily natural. It takes effort and change to choose what serves us, and we grow every time we choose ourselves.
So this is an invitation to bring awareness to the places in life where we are choosing our pumpkin spice suffering. I identify these places by noticing what I'm complaining about or resisting. Then I ask myself:
What am I choosing here that perhaps I could choose differently?
What will that choice unearth that I fear?
And am I ready to make that choice?
Sit with those for a moment, and notice what your body says before your mind jumps in with its reasons.
And let's be clear: pumpkin spice suffering is called pumpkin spice because some part of it is enjoyable in some way. That's why pumpkin spice is seasonal. Even I don't want to drink pumpkin spice year-round. There's a time for it, and I'm not here to take away anyone's latte. So maybe that night out is a choice you still make once in a while. Or the sleeping in, the purchase, the date, or pounding out that last work project late at night. A choice made consciously isn't the same weight as one carried on autopilot. When we do it with awareness, we step into being the creator of our reality instead of the victim of our circumstances.
I, for one, have taken my love of pumpkin spice and recreated it into a recipe that nourishes my body. That's not a metaphor; I mean a real recipe. I'm sick of the sugar crash of Starbucks pumpkin spice, so I've started making my own pumpkin spice creamer. The recipe is below for anyone who wants to try it.
And, yeah, it's a metaphor too 🤓. I can't resist. Our pumpkin spice suffering has something to teach us about our needs and desires. The things we fear are our growth edges. So how do we meet those needs and create our desires in ways that actually nourish us? What are we doing or avoiding that is self-abandoning instead of serving? How can we transmute our behaviors and patterns into ones that serve us? Same craving, better recipe.
Fall is a season of letting go. The trees know exactly what to do: they release what they no longer need and trust the ground to take it. Maybe this is the season we practice the same. Not the weight life has handed us, which we carry with as much grace as we can, but the weight we've been choosing without realizing it.
Enjoy your pumpkin spice, or don't. Just make sure that whatever you're carrying this season, you're carrying it on purpose. I offer these invitations as one walking the same path. Awareness and exercising sovereignty are a lifelong practice, and we walk it all together.
Happy Fall, my friends. I hope to connect with you all along the way.
Pecan Pumpkin Spice Creamer
Soak 1 cup of pecans in water for 8–24 hours
Drain the water
Put the pecans in a blender with 2–3 cups of fresh water
Add vanilla extract to taste (1–2 tsp, or more)
Add pumpkin spice seasoning to taste (1–3 tsp, or more)
Add 4–5 pitted dates
Blend until uniformly creamy
Strain out the nut pieces with cheesecloth if you have the patience (I personally just drink it all and enjoy the fiber)
Add to your favorite warm beverage and enjoy
