A Fresh Start? Why September Might Be the Perfect Time to Rethink How We Work

There's something about September that evokes a feeling of renewal and second chances. As the weather shifts, with cooler mornings and the first hints of summer fading, we are often reminded of the long days spent on vacations and the break from our usual routines. For many, September serves as a clear transition point. Kids head back to school, vacations come to an end, and the rhythm of work resumes. This seasonal change can bring with it a sense of fresh beginnings, prompting us to return to our professional lives with renewed energy and good intentions.

During this time, it's common to set new goals: perhaps we resolve to get organised, commit to regular exercise, protect our evenings, or improve our ability to disconnect from work. Psychologists refer to this phenomenon as the Fresh Start Effect. Research shows that temporal landmarks, such as the start of a new year, a birthday, a new week, or a new season, can create psychological boundaries between our past and present selves. This shift often encourages us to reflect on our goals and consider changing our behaviours.

However, there is another perspective to consider this September that could prove even more beneficial. Instead of merely using this fresh start as an opportunity to do more, what if we took a moment to evaluate whether our pre-summer approach to work was truly sustainable? After a break, there’s a strong temptation to dive back into our tasks and catch up. The inbox is overflowing, projects are waiting for our attention, and meetings quickly fill the calendar. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the backlog of tasks that suddenly seem urgent after a period of absence.

As we dive back in, lunch often becomes an afterthought, something to squeeze in if time allows. The exercise routines we promised ourselves fade away, and we find ourselves staying late to catch up. We might agree to additional meetings, believing that we need to make up for lost time. This approach can feel productive, and in the short term, it may indeed be. However, if we simply recreate the same patterns that left us feeling stretched before summer, we risk missing out on a valuable opportunity for real change. We haven’t truly made a fresh start; we’ve merely reset the same old routine.

The Ten-Bucket Mistake

This reflection on September and fresh starts is inspired by an experience at our chateau. One of our ongoing renovation projects involves repointing the stone façade, a substantial task that encompasses about 1,000 square meters of stonework. When we first embarked on this project, our eagerness to make progress was palpable. After all, it is rewarding to witness the transformation of an old wall, and with so much work ahead, we felt compelled to dive in and make significant strides.

In our enthusiasm, we decided to mix 100 litres of lime mortar, which equates to around ten buckets (weighing close to a quarter of a ton in total, which we then had to carry up two flights of stairs and navigate onto our scaffolding). At the time, this choice seemed logical; more mortar would translate to more pointing, leading to greater progress. We believed that this was the most efficient approach. However, it quickly became apparent that ten buckets was a considerable amount. Using that much mortar could take three to four hours to point, depending on the section of the wall. And pointing was just one part of the job; once the mortar began to set, there was scraping, brushing, and cleaning to follow, which could take another 2-3 hours, leaving little time for anything else that day.

While we made good progress during the first couple of days, we also expended a significant amount of energy, and I could sense our enthusiasm for the mammoth task that lay ahead waining rapidly. This raised an important question: when faced with 1,000 square meters of façade to repoint, does it matter how much we can accomplish in one day? Surely, what really mattered, was our ability to show up day after day after day and work consistently over time.

So, we adjusted our approach and mixed a smaller batch: six buckets. Interestingly, this felt much more manageable. We could complete the mix, finish the scraping and brushing, clean up, and still have energy left at the end of the day (and time during the day to prioritise other things). Rather than feeling like we were reducing productivity, it felt as though we had discovered a sweet spot that allowed us to continue without exhausting ourselves. Most importantly, when we finished, we actually looked forward to returning the next day.

Sustainable Doesn’t Mean Easy

This experience highlights an important distinction about sustainability. It’s often misconstrued as doing less, taking it easy, or avoiding challenges. However, that wasn’t the case with our façade project. Six buckets still required hard work and commitment; we had to invest time and effort to make progress. The key difference was that the work was challenging without being overwhelming. We achieved enough to feel like we were moving forward, while also ensuring that the prospect of returning the next day didn’t feel daunting.

This raises a thought-provoking question about our work lives. We frequently focus on how much we can accomplish in a given day, measuring productivity by the number of emails answered, meetings attended, tasks completed, or hours worked. Yet, these metrics often fail to account for the cost of achieving them. Consider two individuals who both have a highly productive Monday. One leaves feeling satisfied, energised, and in control, while the other works through lunch, stays late, and cancels evening plans. Although both might appear productive on paper, one has set the stage for continued productivity, while the other has depleted their energy reserves.

Occasionally borrowing energy from tomorrow to meet today’s demands isn’t inherently problematic. There are moments when we must rise to the occasion, meet deadlines, or tackle unexpected challenges. The issue arises when these exceptions become the norm, leading us to rely on our reserves to maintain performance. And reserves, by their nature, are not infinite.

What Wasn’t Working Before the Summer?

This is why I believe September presents a unique opportunity. The Fresh Start Effect can provide the psychological impetus for change, but we ultimately have the power to choose what we change. Instead of asking ourselves, What do I want to achieve this autumn?, perhaps we should first consider, What wasn’t working before the summer?

Did you find yourself regularly working through lunch? Were your evenings consumed by work? Did your calendar leave little room for reflection? Were you constantly reacting to demands rather than focusing on what truly mattered? Did your exercise, sleep, relationships, or time away from work diminish during busy periods? Were you taking on more than you could sustain? These questions are not meant to cast judgment on our previous work habits; there are often valid reasons why our routines evolve. Work can become hectic, teams may face pressure, deadlines loom, or unexpected challenges arise.

However, what starts as a temporary response to pressure can sometimes morph into a permanent way of working. Once a habit becomes normalised, it can be challenging to recognise that it no longer serves us. A fresh start provides an opportunity to reassess and notice these patterns.

Find Your Six Bucket Equivalent

This autumn, perhaps the challenge isn’t about cramming more into our workdays, but rather discovering your equivalent of our six buckets. What workload allows you to make meaningful progress without leaving you feeling drained? This might involve protecting your lunch hour rather than treating it as optional. It could mean setting clear boundaries around your workday or creating space for focused work instead of allowing your calendar to fill every moment. It may even require acknowledging that you’ve taken on too much.

The answer will differ for each individual, and it doesn’t have to equate to being less ambitious. In fact, I believe the opposite can hold true. If we aim to perform well over the long term rather than merely getting through the next few weeks, sustainability becomes a strategic approach to performance.

The real question shifts from How much can I do? to How much can I do consistently? This subtle yet significant difference can reshape our approach. When setting ambitious goals, we often envision ourselves at our best: rested, motivated, and brimming with energy. However, we rarely consider the challenging days when we’ve slept poorly, our calendars are packed, and unexpected issues arise before 10 a.m. Those are the moments when our new habits will truly be tested.

A routine that functions only under ideal circumstances isn’t a routine; it’s merely a good intention. The six-bucket approach works because it allows for the unpredictability of life.

The Long Game

There’s another aspect I appreciate about using the façade as a metaphor. When faced with 1,000 square meters of old stonework, the task can seem overwhelming. It’s a significant undertaking, and no single day’s work will complete it. Yet, six buckets don’t appear as daunting. You can manage six today, six tomorrow, and six the day after that. Gradually, and often without realising it, meaningful progress occurs.

This principle applies to many changes we wish to implement in our work lives. We don’t need to solve everything in September or create the perfect routine overnight. Instead, we need to find a way of working that we’re willing to commit to consistently. As we return to work this autumn, I encourage you to resist the urge to plunge back into old routines. Take a moment to reflect on the past before looking ahead. What worked well before summer? What didn’t? What did you frequently sacrifice when things got busy? What changes can you make now to foster a more sustainable work life?

A fresh start doesn’t necessitate a complete overhaul of who we are. Sometimes, it simply means giving ourselves permission to stop doing things that haven’t been effective. For us, the solution was six buckets of lime mortar. It wasn’t the maximum we could do; it was the right amount that made us eager to return the next day. So, as we embrace autumn, consider this question: What is your six-bucket day?

Not the day when you achieve the absolute maximum or squeeze every last ounce of productivity from yourself, but rather the day that leaves you feeling as though you’ve made meaningful progress, taken care of yourself along the way, and still have enough energy to show up again tomorrow at your best. Because when the goal is sustainable performance, tomorrow matters too.