Tonight is the Harvest Moon

And there is something about that which makes me want to slow everything down.

For centuries, this time of year has marked the gathering in. The harvest. A moment to look at what has grown before the earth begins its long exhale into winter.

I think we can do the same.

Look back at the year so far and ask ourselves:

What have I grown?

What have I survived?

What have I learned?

What am I grateful for?

And perhaps, most importantly, what am I ready to stop carrying?

I love the simplicity of Pagan and earth-based rituals around this time of year. Not because I think we need elaborate ceremonies, but because they remind us to notice.

Notice the moon.

Notice the changing leaves.

Notice the colder air against our skin.

Light a candle. Eat something seasonal. Write down what you’re grateful for. Sit outside for ten minutes. Thank the earth. Let something go.

There are no perfect words to say and no perfect ritual to perform.

And if you are going into nature, leave her exactly as you found her. No ribbons tied to trees, no wax, crystals, food or offerings left behind. Take your intentions home with you and leave only your footprints.

Tonight, my ritual will be very simple.

Nick, Presley and I are escaping to a hotel for the evening. We’re having dinner and then heading out to experience the dark skies.

And, beautifully, it looks like we might have a clear night.

I can’t think of many things I’d rather do.

The man I love beside me.

My dog probably sniffing something inappropriate nearby.

A full Harvest Moon above us.

And time.

Time to look up.

Time to be quiet.

Time to remember how tiny we are underneath that enormous sky and, strangely, how comforting that can feel.

I’ll think about everything this year has given me.

The beautiful bits.

The bloody difficult bits.

The things that arrived unexpectedly.

The things I fought desperately to hold onto.

And the things I finally realised I was allowed to put down.

Perhaps that is what harvest really means.

Not just gathering everything in.

But knowing what is worth keeping.

Tonight, under the Harvest Moon, I’ll be grateful for what I have, gentle with what I’ve lost, proud of what I’ve survived and curious about whatever comes next.

And then the three of us will walk back inside, find an open fire and settle down with a lovely drink, warm from the flames and hopefully still carrying a little bit of that moonlight with us.

No grand ceremony.

No complicated ritual.

Just love, gratitude, nature, warmth and the reminder that sometimes the most sacred moments are the simplest ones.

What are you ready to leave behind as we walk into Autumn?

Love from Missy Moo x