I remember being particularly nostalgic my senior year of college. As I sorted through my school supplies and prepared to complete academic journey, I remember thinking, It sure is going to feel weird next year when back-to-school is no longer a thing for me.

August meant the smell of fresh paper, meticulously choosing new pens, and “desk candy” that promised to make me more organized and less prone to procrastination. Fancy to-do list trackers, gel pens in every color, heart-shaped sticky notes. It meant a new planner, reorganizing my life and committing to becoming a little more put together and a little more grown up.

Buying new school clothes and supplies convinced me I was one step closer to becoming the person I hoped to be.

At 22, I thought my senior year of college would bring that feeling to an end.

I was wrong.

The following year, I was married and a military spouse, living in Florida while my husband was in pilot training. When August rolled around and stores filled with back-to-school wares, I found myself with that same urge to reorganize my life.

The back-to-school feeling had followed me, even though the classrooms hadn’t.

Maybe it was because I had spent my entire childhood in that rhythm. Or maybe this time of year is simply a natural transition. Over the years, whether I had kids in school or not, I’ve come to embrace August as a time of renewal and recommitment. In some ways, even more so than January.

In North Dakota, the transition between summer and fall is tangible. The air smells different. The daylight hours get shorter. Mornings and evenings are cool while midday is still warm. Acorns drop. Leaves begin turning. One season is closing while another begins.

Unlike spring, when everything comes alive and we’re eager to get outside and do all the things we can’t do in sub-zero temperatures, this transition brings a natural slowing down.

After a summer of travel, loose schedules and late bedtimes, a return to structure can feel welcome. After months of moving, traveling, playing and doing, fall gives us room to pause.

To reassess.

To reorganize.

This year marks a big milestone in our house. For the first time, I’m sending not one, but two children to school. And not part-day preschool, not homeschooling. Two children, in school, all day.

I’ll admit, I’m nervous.

For years, I’ve had an easy explanation for some of the things I haven’t accomplished. Maybe that goal didn’t happen because I had at least one child at home. Maybe I haven’t gotten around to that project because I’m primarily a full-time mom.

And now, that is changing.

As I shopped for notebooks for my kids, I realized it’s been years since I bought one for myself. I have a drawer full of them already.

But I still feel that familiar pull to reassess.

I’ve been thinking about the goals I set in January. Some happened. Some didn’t. Some don’t even seem important anymore.

And that’s okay.

January might be the traditional time to set goals and make big plans, but it isn’t the only “right” time. In January, we’re tired, coming off the holidays and, in North Dakota, quite literally freezing. Sometimes the things that seem important in winter look different after we’ve lived another six or seven months.

To me, August always seems to extend another opportunity.

What actually fits my life right now?

What do I still want?

What have I outgrown?

What would make everyday life feel a little more like the life I want to be living?

I’m less interested in setting ambitious goals than I am in figuring out what is realistic.

What can I actually sustain?

Maybe, like me, the back-to-school feeling never left you either. Even if you haven’t been in a classroom for years. Even if you don’t have children in school. The changing season can still give us an opportunity to pause.

We don’t have to dread what’s ahead, and we don’t have to grieve too hard for what’s behind.

This transitional time doesn’t call for complete reinvention, or belittling ourselves for resolutions that fell to the wayside in February. Instead, we can choose to see this as an opportunity to slow down, regroup, and end this year with intentionality. And while intentionality doesn’t call for anything fancy, a few pretty pens, and a beautiful new notebook never hurts.

For more on living in North Dakota join me on social media @heyminot. Find out more about me at amyallender.com