Harvesting Wisdom

M. Hakikah Shamsideen
Oct 8
4 min read

The world in 2025 feels vastly different than the world of my childhood—and even from just ten years ago. Life is moving faster, and not always in the direction of progress I long to see.

My mother lived to be 97. One afternoon, as was our routine, we sat at the kitchen table discussing the changes happening in the world. For me, iPods, mobile phones, and computers bursting with information were normal. But my mother still wrestled with the idea of call waiting, which she considered the rudest invention ever and a government plot to disrupt families. Trust me, I learned the hard way never to switch over if my mother was already on the line!

That day, I realized just how much she had witnessed in her lifetime: the Great Depression, World War II, the end of Jim Crow, the Civil Rights Movement, and the victories of desegregation. She lived through The Space Race, the Women’s Liberation Movement (which allowed her—a Black woman—to finally secure a managerial position), the assassinations of Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr., and the Kennedys. She saw television transform family life, airplanes become accessible, and even the election of the first Black President.

There were times, I’m sure, when she felt like the world was ending. Much like how many of us have felt since 2020. Yet when she spoke of the hard, often tragic events of her life, she spoke without bitterness. She had processed it all, harvested the wisdom, and chose to pass down lessons that still carry meaning for me.

As autumn approaches—leaves falling, fields yielding their last crops, and the air sharp with the promise of transformation—we are also called to harvest. To collect the fruits of our efforts, the lessons learned from our travels, and the gratitude that eases our hearts.

Harvesting the Fruit of Our Choices

Every choice we make plants a seed. Some blossom into joy—new relationships, opportunities, or blessings. Others grow into lessons we didn’t anticipate. Fall doesn’t ask us to label these as good or bad. It simply asks us to harvest them all.

When we harvest without judgment, we begin to see patterns: what nourishes us, what drains us. My mother never glossed over painful memories, but neither did she stay stuck in them. Instead, she released the pain and shared the wisdom. That’s the heart of this season—not producing more, but pausing to collect what is already here.

Gathering in Community

Autumn has always been communal. For centuries, families and neighbors worked together to bring in the harvest, share food, and prepare for winter. Gathering was never meant to be solitary.

Some years ago, I invited seven women to my home for a monthly sisterhood circle. We shared potluck meals, our fears and victories, our mistakes, and our dreams. It was beautiful. That memory reminds me that harvesting wisdom is richer when shared.

Harvest Lessons from Nature

The trees remind us: release is as sacred as holding on. Leaves fall without struggle, trusting the rhythm of seasons. In that release lies renewal.

What might you release this fall? A habit that no longer serves you? A resentment weighing on your spirit? Harvesting wisdom means recognizing that letting go is also a crucial part of the process.

Harvesting Ourselves

In a world that scatters our energy across endless demands, the season calls us back to center. It whispers: gather yourself.

This might look like honoring a rhythm of rest, setting aside time for reflection, or cultivating gratitude as a daily practice. It’s not about doing more—it’s about collecting yourself in wholeness, and noticing the wisdom already within you.

Harvesting Gratitude

Every harvest, large or small, deserves thanks. The meal on your table, the lesson learned, the joy that lingers—all are worthy of gratitude. Gratitude doesn’t erase hardship, but it transforms how we carry it.

Even in loss or scarcity, abundance surrounds us. The beauty of leaves, the crisp air, the warmth of tea—all remind us of God’s faithful provision.

For Reflection

This year has held fear and anxiety. News cycles and uncertainty affect us even when events don’t directly impact us. But we have a choice. We can cry and worry—or we can cry, rest, dance, and pray.

Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us that “to everything there is a season.” Seasons pass. We may not grasp the whole of God’s work, but we can trust it.

This fall, harvest: the fruits of your labor, the lessons of your journey, the people who make you feel most alive, and the gratitude that grounds you. In harvesting, we align with the wisdom of the season: life is cyclical, both joy and struggle shape us, and beauty comes when we pause to receive it.