Why November is the Month of Resentment (And What the Seasons Want You to Know.)
November feels heavy this year, doesn't it?
The trees are stripped bare now, reduced to skeleton branches against grey skies. The light leaves early, like it has somewhere better to be. And if you're paying attention—like really paying attention—there's a tightness in your chest that has nothing to do with the weather.
That's resentment.
Maybe it showed up last week when your friend posted about a similar promotion you've been working toward for years. Maybe it's been building since summer, a slow accumulation of all the times life gave someone else what you needed. Maybe it's older than that—a wound you've been carrying so long you forgot it was there until November stripped everything else away and left you staring right at your resentment.
Late autumn has a way of doing that. Of making you see what you've been avoiding.
Why Resentment Thrives in November
There's a reason resentment feels louder right now. It's not just you. It's not a weakness or proof that you're not spiritual enough or that you’re broken. It’s the energy of the season.
Late autumn is the time of scarcity—or at least, it looks like scarcity. The abundance of summer is gone and the harvest is over. What's left is bare ground, cold air, and darkness that comes too early and stays too late. The earth is withholding now. No more flowers. No more fruit. Just stark branches and soil that freezes more everyday.
And when the world looks empty, we start counting what we don't have. Even if where you live doesn’t experience late autumn in such a dramatic way, the world has collectively been taught to see autumn as the time of transitioning towards less.
We look at other people's harvests and compare them to ours. We notice who got more, who had it easier, who seemed to coast while we clawed our way forward. We keep score without meaning to, tallying up every unfairness, and especially every time we worked twice as hard for half as much. That's resentment you’re feeling. And November is its season.
Scorpio Season: The Wound Revealed
We're deep in Scorpio season right now (October 23 - November 21), and if you know anything about Scorpio, you know it doesn't do surface-level anything.
Scorpio is the sign of intensity, transformation, and truth—especially uncomfortable truth. Scorpio pulls back the veil on what's really happening beneath all the pretty stories we tell ourselves. It makes us look at the wound, the betrayal, and the bitterness we've been swallowing for months or even years.
Scorpio invented resentment. Or at least, it perfected it.
Because Scorpio never forgets. It remembers every slight, every injustice, and every time someone got away with something they shouldn't have. Scorpio watches. It waits. And it's keeping the receipts.
And right now, in November, that ledger is open in front of you. You can see it clearly: all the ways life has been unfair, all the people who had advantages you didn't, all the times you did everything right and still didn't get what you deserved.
Scorpio isn't doing this to torture you. It's doing this so you can finally tend to the wound. You can't heal what you won't acknowledge. And Scorpio makes you come face to face with it, whether you want to or not.
Samhain's Aftermath: The Veil is Still Thin
We just passed Samhain—the Celtic new year, the night when the veil between worlds is thinnest. October 31st, November 1st. The time when we honor the dead, face our shadows, and look at what needs to die so something new can be born.
Samhain energy doesn't just disappear on November 2nd. It lingers. The veil is still thin. You can still see things clearly—maybe too clearly.
This is why November feels so raw. You're living in the aftermath of Samhain's revelation. You saw your resentment. You named it. And now you can't unsee it. But here's the gift in that: clarity.
You know what you're carrying now. You know who you resent, what you covet, where the bitterness lives in your body. That awareness—uncomfortable as it is—is the first step toward transformation.
What the Earth is Actually Teaching You
Here's what most people miss about late autumn: the earth isn't dead right now. It's composting. Everything that died back—the flowers, the leaves, the summer fruit rotting away—is breaking down beneath the surface. It's becoming food. Fertilizer. The rich, dark soil that will feed next spring's growth.
Nothing is wasted. Death is becoming the nourishment now and your resentment can do the same thing.
The earth is showing you that scarcity is temporary. That what looks like emptiness is actually transformation in progress. That the bare branches aren't the end of the story—they're the pause before the next beginning. November asks you: What are you composting? What bitterness are you ready to let break down so it can feed something new?
The Shift: Sagittarius is Coming
Here's the other thing about November: it doesn't stay in Scorpio forever. On November 22nd, the sun moves into Sagittarius. And Sagittarius has a completely different energy.
Where Scorpio obsesses over the wound, Sagittarius asks: What did it teach you?
Where Scorpio sees betrayal, Sagittarius sees a story you survived.
Where Scorpio keeps score, Sagittarius looks at the horizon and says: What's next?
Sagittarius is the archer. The optimist. The believer in possibility even when hope seems stupid. Sagittarius has faith that things can get better, that there's still adventure ahead, and that the future doesn't have to look like the past.
And this is the invitation of November: to move from Scorpio's intensity into Sagittarius's hope. From resentment into gratitude. And not fake gratitude. Not the "I'm so blessed" performance you paste over real pain and try to force into your gratitude journal.
Real gratitude. The kind that says: yes, life has been unfair. Yes, I've been hurt. Yes, I deserved better. And there are still things worth celebrating. Still moments of beauty. Still reasons to be glad I'm alive.
Both can be true.
What This Month Wants From You
November isn't asking you to skip over the resentment and jump straight to gratitude. That's spiritual bypassing, and it doesn't work. Instead, November is asking you to sit with resentment first. To let Scorpio show you where it lives, what it's protecting, and why you've been holding onto it.
And then—only then—to let Sagittarius show you what's on the other side. To aim your arrow at something better. To believe, even just a little, that transformation is possible. This is deep, slow work. It doesn't happen in a day or even a week. It happens over the course of the whole month, as the season shifts, as the zodiac moves, and as you practice small moments of choosing differently.
A Practice to Start With
If you want to begin working with November's energy, try this:
Find your resentment. Sit down with a journal or just sit quietly and ask yourself: who am I resenting right now? What do they have that I want? Be honest. Don't make it spiritual. Just name it.
Locate it in your body. Where do you feel the resentment? Your jaw? Your chest? Your stomach? Close your eyes and notice. Just observe it without trying to fix it yet.
Ask what it's protecting you from. Resentment isn't just bitterness. It's armor for a deeper vulnerability. What would you have to feel or risk if you let your resentment go? Grief? Disappointment? The possibility of wanting something and not getting it?
That's enough for now. Just those three steps. Awareness. Location. Understanding. You're not trying to release it yet. You're just starting to see it clearly.
There's More
This practice is a beginning. But if you're ready to go deeper—if you want to actually work with this transformation from resentment to gratitude over the whole month—there's more available.
Inside The Unfolding, I'm teaching a complete November journey. It’s not a quick fix. Not a five-minute meditation. A real, embodied, month-long practice that honors both the shadow and the light.
Here's what you get:
A full video course walking you through the transformation from resentment to gratitude—why it matters, how to do it, and what the pitfalls are.
Tarot spreads designed specifically for this work, so you can see where your resentment is rooted and where your gratitude is waiting.
Seasonal timing guidance that shows you exactly how to work with late autumn, Scorpio, Sagittarius, and Samhain energy instead of fighting against it.
Recipes and food correspondences—what to eat, what to cook, what ingredients support releasing bitterness and inviting sweetness.
Rituals that actually work. Not performative rituals. Not fluffy. Real ceremonial practices for shifting stuck energy.
Journal prompts that go deep, helping you integrate what you're learning and carry it beyond November.
This isn't surface-level content. This is the real, messy, human work of transformation. And I'm doing it with you, month by month, season by season.
