“The earth does not belong to us; we belong to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites one family.”
Physical Setting & Preparation
Find yourself in a place where autumn’s presence can be felt—perhaps near a window where golden light filters through changing leaves, or outdoors where the crisp air carries the scent of dying vegetation and rich earth. Settle into a comfortable seated position with your feet bare upon the ground if possible. Allow your hands to rest palms-down, connecting to whatever surface supports you. Feel the weight of the season’s transition in your bones.
Opening Invocation | Fosgladh
Mathair na Talaimh, cluinn ar nguth - Mother of the Earth, hear our voice
As September’s dying breath whispers through the world, I call upon the ancient wisdom that flows beneath my feet. The earth beneath me pulses with the rhythm of seasons turning, leaves surrendering their green life to paint the world in fire. I breathe in the sharp sweetness of autumn air, tasting the metallic edge of coming frost.
Tha mi a’ fosgladh mo chridhe - I open my heart
Feel your chest expand with each breath, drawing in the essence of this liminal time when summer’s abundance transforms into autumn’s wisdom. The Mother Earth cradles you in her turning arms, her body rich with the decay that feeds new life.
Body of the Working | Corp
Today I hold the duality of grateful and restless within my being, like twin flames flickering in the hearth of my soul.
Tha mi taingeil airson gach rud - I am grateful for everything
Gratitude rises from my depths like sap ascending through ancient oak. I feel it in my fingertips, warm and golden as September honey. The Mother Earth spreads her harvest before me—the apple trees heavy with fruit, the corn standing tall and proud, the late roses offering their final perfume to the cooling air. My grateful heart swells like a seed pod ready to burst, acknowledging the abundance that surrounds me even as the year begins its sacred dying.
Yet beneath this thankfulness, restlessness coils like morning mist in the valleys.
Tha mi mi-fhoisneach mar an ghaoth - I am restless like the wind
This restlessness is not discontent but the wild stirring of change itself. It moves through me like the wind that strips leaves from their branches, necessary and natural. The Mother knows this feeling—she who must release summer’s children to make way for winter’s rest. My restless spirit mirrors the squirrels gathering acorns, the birds sensing the pull of distant lands, the very earth preparing for her deep sleep.
Ann an nàdar, tha gach faireachdainn naomh - In nature, every feeling is sacred
I see how my gratitude and restlessness dance together like partners in autumn’s ballet. The grateful heart that appreciates this moment’s beauty, and the restless soul that knows change must come. Both are gifts from the Mother, both serve the greater turning of life’s wheel.
The Deep Working | An Obair Dhomhain
Sìolaidh mo chridhe sìos gu domhainn - My heart sinks down deep
I descend now into the earth’s embrace, following my roots down through layers of soil rich with the dreams of countless seasons. Here, in the Mother’s womb-darkness, I find the source of all feeling, all knowing. The grateful and restless parts of myself dissolve into something larger—the vast, patient consciousness of stone and loam and underground rivers.
The Mother whispers through the mycelial networks that web beneath my feet: “Child, your gratitude is my satisfaction at work well done. Your restlessness is my eternal becoming, my refusal to remain static. Feel how the oak is grateful for its hundred rings of growth, yet restless for the acorn it will drop. Feel how the river gives thanks for its source while rushing toward the sea.”
I breathe with the rhythm of seasons, feeling my own cycles align with hers. Inhaling gratitude for what has been given, exhaling restlessness for what seeks to emerge. The September earth holds both—the satisfaction of harvest and the stirring toward winter’s transformative death.
Tha mi ceangailte ri gach rud beò - I am connected to all living things
In this deep place, I understand that my emotions are not separate from the world but woven into its very fabric. My grateful heart feeds the Mother’s joy; my restless spirit contributes to the eternal dance of change that keeps life flowing. I am not observer but participant, not separate but intrinsically part of the whole.
Afterthought | Smuain Dheiridh
Take a moment to contemplate:
How does the Mother Earth teach you to hold both gratitude for what is and restlessness for what could be, without letting either diminish the other? What season of your inner landscape are you harvesting, and what lies fallow, waiting for its time to grow?
Closing Blessing | Beannachd Dheiridh
Mathair na Talaimh, tha sinn mar do chlann - Mother of the Earth, we are as your children
As I return to ordinary awareness, I carry with me the wisdom of September’s threshold. My feet find firm contact with the ground, my breath fills with the present moment’s air. The grateful and restless aspects of my being settle into harmony, each serving its sacred purpose in the great work of living.
Beannachd ort, a Mhàthair - Blessing upon you, Mother
May the blessings of this season flow through me and into the world. May my gratitude feed the earth’s abundance, and my restlessness serve the necessary changes that keep life moving toward greater wholeness.
Slàn leat - Farewell
What is the language that is being used, aside from English? I would take a guess but I don’t want to embarrass myself lol. Love the read, and mediation!