Meditation: September 30th, 2025

“The Mother holds all seasons in her body simultaneously—spring’s promise sleeps in winter’s heart, summer’s fullness dreams in autumn’s release.”

“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than they seek.” - John Muir

Physical Setting & Preparation

Position yourself at a threshold—a doorway, window, or the edge between two different natural spaces. This final day of September calls for honoring transitions, so let your body rest where inside meets outside, light meets shadow, or pavement meets earth. Sit with your spine straight but not rigid, like a reed that bends with wind yet holds its center. Place one hand on your heart and one on the ground beside you, becoming a bridge between inner and outer worlds.

Opening Invocation | Fosgladh

Latha deireannach an fhoghair - Last day of autumn’s beginning

Here at September’s final breath, I feel the great exhale of the turning year. The light has that particular slant now, golden as old honey, casting long shadows that speak of winter’s approach. The air carries the dry rustle of leaves letting go, the sweet scent of apples surrendering to gravity, the mineral promise of earth preparing for its long sleep.

Tha mi a’ seasamh aig geata nan ràithean - I stand at the gate of seasons

The Mother Earth beneath me shifts in her ancient rhythm, gathering her energies for the great transformation ahead. I feel her pulse through soil and stone, through the soles of my feet and into the marrow of my bones, calling me to witness this sacred passage from abundance to release.

Body of the Working | Corp

Today the twin flames of yearning and fierce burn within my spirit, like autumn fire consuming dry leaves while reaching always toward the sky.

Tha mi a’ miannachadh - I am yearning

Yearning flows through my blood like wine, intoxicating and bittersweet. It is the deep hunger of the heart that no earthly satisfaction can fully feed—the soul’s longing for mystery, for meaning, for connection to something vaster than the small circle of daily concerns. The Mother Earth herself carries this yearning: the way mountains strain toward clouds, how rivers hunger for the sea, the desperate reach of roots seeking water in drought.

This yearning tastes like copper pennies and wild honey, feels like homesickness for a country I’ve never seen. It is the artist’s ache to capture beauty, the lover’s need to merge completely with the beloved, the mystic’s burning desire to dissolve into the divine. The very cells of my body vibrate with wanting—not for things or achievements, but for the ineffable something that dances just beyond the edge of comprehension.

Yet from this tender vulnerability rises something untamed and powerful.

Tha mi borb mar an geamhradh - I am fierce like winter

Fierceness erupts from my depths like lightning splitting the evening sky. This is the wild strength of the she-wolf protecting her cubs, the hurricane’s unyielding power, the mountain’s refusal to bow to wind and weather. The Mother teaches this fierceness in the way cliff faces stand immovable against crashing waves, how the oak’s roots crack solid stone in their determination to survive.

Tha mo mhiann a’ toirt spionnadh dhomh - My yearning gives me spirit

I discover that yearning and fierceness are not separate forces but aspects of a single sacred fire. The deeper my longing for truth, beauty, and connection, the more fiercely I am willing to defend what matters, to fight for the sacred, to burn away everything false and shallow. Like autumn’s conflagration that clears the forest floor for new growth, my fierce yearning becomes both destruction and creation.

The Deep Working | An Obair Dhomhain

Sìolaidh sìos gu ionad diamhair - Sink down to the secret place

Descending through layers of being like roots penetrating bedrock, I find the cavern where all longing is born and all power originates. Here, in the Mother’s innermost sanctuary, yearning and fierceness merge into a single flame that has burned since the first star ignited.

The Mother’s voice rises from the primordial fire: “Beloved child, feel how the yearning that aches in your chest is the same force that drew matter into the first galaxies, that pulls the moon around the earth, that drives the salmon upstream to spawn. Your fierceness is the same power that split the first cell, that thrust the first green shoot through winter soil, that refuses to let consciousness fade into mere matter.”

I breathe with the rhythm of cosmic becoming, feeling my personal longings align with the universe’s own yearning toward greater complexity, greater beauty, greater love. My fierce protection of what I hold sacred joins the fundamental forces that maintain order against entropy, that insist life continue despite all obstacles.

Tha mi mar ghealbhan na h-oidhche - I am like the night’s spark

In this place beyond ordinary knowing, I understand that my yearning is not personal desire but cosmic hunger expressing itself through my particular form. My fierceness is not anger but the universe defending its investment in consciousness, in beauty, in the precious experiment of self-aware matter learning to love.

The earth beneath me pulses with this same dual current: the ache for what could be and the fierce determination to protect what is. My emotions become prayers in the great liturgy of becoming, my desires become compass points guiding evolution toward greater wholeness.

Afterthought | Smuain Dheiridh

Take a moment to contemplate:

How does the Mother Earth show you that the deepest yearning and the fiercest protection spring from the same source? What does your soul hunger for so deeply that you would defend it with wild, untamed strength?

Closing Blessing | Beannachd Dheiridh

A Mhàthair na h-oidhche, glèidh mi - Mother of the night, keep me

As September’s final moments slip away like sand through fingers, I rise from the depths carrying the marriage of yearning and fierceness within my bones. My feet find the threshold ground, my breath fills with air that tastes of endings and beginnings intertwined.

Tha mo chridhe a’ losgadh le gràdh - My heart burns with love

I step forward into October’s mystery with yearning as my compass and fierceness as my sword, knowing that both serve the greater work of consciousness awakening to itself, of matter learning to sing with spirit’s voice.

Beannachadh na gealaich ort - The moon’s blessing upon you

May this sacred fire burn not only for my own becoming but for the healing of all beings who hunger for truth and beauty. May my yearning inspire others to seek what matters most, and my fierceness defend the vulnerable wherever darkness threatens to extinguish light.

Slàn leat, a Shultaine na h-oidhche - Farewell, September’s night