Hard to believe, isn’t it? One minute I’m basking in Kamloops sunshine, smugly sipping iced lattes on patios, and the next — boom — it’s dark at 6 p.m., I’m wrapped in three sweaters, and I’ve started having dinner at what can only be described as “senior citizen hour.”

Yes, friends, it’s that peculiar time of year when the clocks change, the sun vanishes, and our moods start to feel like they’ve also  fallen back. My body thinks it’s midnight at 6:30, my brain is foggier than the Coquihalla, and honestly, I’ve forgotten what my knees look like under all these layers.

But beneath the jokes, there’s something real that happens this time of year — that creeping heaviness, the quieter mornings, the weight that settles on your chest when the light does too. The truth is, when the sun goes missing, sometimes our sparkle does too.

For some, that’s Seasonal Affective Disorder — the world’s most on-the-nose acronym: SAD. For others, it’s a dip in motivation, a shrinking of joy, a sense of “meh” that even a pumpkin spice latte can’t fix.

So, as both a journalist and a woman who’s fallen off more yoga mats than she cares to admit, I’ve decided to make this autumn less about hibernation and more about gentle rebellion. Because while I can’t control the sun (or my thermostat), I can remind myself who I am — even in the dark.

Here’s what helps me:

Chase the daylight — Even 15 minutes of morning light can boost your mood. I now stand outside with my coffee like a confused sunflower, soaking up what I can.
Move — badly if you must — Whether it’s a walk along the River Trail or interpretive dancing in your living room, motion really does shift emotion.
Eat colourfully — I know, comfort food season is calling. But throw in something green (no, parsley garnish doesn’t count).

Light up your cave — Fairy lights, candles, a daylight lamp — whatever tricks your brain into thinking you live in Tuscany instead of a time warp.

Reach out — Send a message, call a friend, or say hi to the stranger in line for soup. Connection is the antidote to darkness.

And if your sadness feels heavier than usual, please don’t keep it to yourself. In British Columbia, you can call the Mental Health Support Line (310-6789), no area code needed, or the 9-8-8 Suicide Crisis Helpline (call or text 24/7). Help is always there, even when the light isn’t.

So, here’s my plan: I’ll keep walking, keep laughing, and keep believing the sun and my sparkle will return.

Yes, the clock has changed. But maybe, just maybe, this is our cue to change something too — to rest, to reconnect, to remember who we are.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got soup to reheat. At 4 p.m., naturally.

Amy Tucker is a University Instructor at Thompson Rivers University and proudly calls herself an “accidental athlete.” As a senior swimmer and long-distance open water enthusiast, she has represented Team Canada on the Age-Group Triathlon Team for the past three years. Amy is passionate about encouraging others to embrace fitness and wellness at any stage of life, proving it’s never too late to chase new challenges.