The full moon for September 2026, known as the Harvest Moon and the Corn Moon, reaches peak illumination on Saturday, September 26, 2026. You are probably seeing her now.
There is something magical about the Harvest Moon. It arrives as the seasons begin to turn, reminding us to slow down and notice what we have grown.
Not everything we planted came to bloom. Not every seed became what we imagined. Yet there is still so much to be grateful for.
This is by far my favorite moon cycle, and the Harvest Moon a special full light.
The Harvest Moon became associated not only with gathering crops, but with gathering the fruits of our own efforts, giving thanks for what has grown and releasing what is no longer needed.
She invites us to gather our blessings, release what has served its purpose, and prepare our hearts for the quieter season ahead.
May we honor the harvest not only in our gardens, but within ourselves.
Gather. Give thanks. Release. Rest.
There is magic and beauty and wonder in every season, including the ones that ask us to let go.
In 1981 Actress Lily Tomlin portrayed a 1970/80s housewife in The Incredible Shrinking Woman. Her character, Pat, lives in the hyper-marketed suburb of Tasty Meadows with over saturation and where over consumption is king with diet drinks and harsh heavy household cleaners the focus. Pat shrinks because her body reacts adversely to an overlapping cocktail of everyday commercial items, from cleaning fluids to her husband’s experimental advertising perfume. She is like an inch tall in my memory of the film.
Pat embodies the 1950s/1960s “American Dream” housewife idea. Staying home in a station wagon while her husband works in advertising, which the film reveals as suffocating. She also was largely overlooked. Minimized, and pandered to. So, she shrunk. Literally.
“I’m tired of living in a world built for giants!”
Pat Kramer (Lily Tomlin)
As a metaphor, Pat’s physical shrinking mirrors how women in a patriarchal society are socially minimized, silenced, and expected to take up less space. Her journey in this movie tracks a gradual pushback against being treated as a domestic accessory or a “doll”, culminating in her reclaiming agency despite her size.
I was 15 in 1981. I loved this movie. Now, I see the entire film differently. I see it the way it was meant to be seen and “get” the message loud and clear.
There comes a moment when you realize you have been making yourself smaller
just to make other people comfortable.
You quiet your voice. You hide the parts of yourself that feel too different, too sensitive, too passionate, too magical. You question your dreams because someone else doesn’t understand them. You bend and adjust and compromise until you barely recognize the person looking back at you.
But you were never meant to live that way.
You were not placed on this earth to fit perfectly into someone else’s expectations of who you should be.
There is a kind of freedom that comes when you stop asking, “Will they understand me?” and begin asking, “Am I being true to myself?”
Not everyone will understand your path. Some people may only be comfortable with the version of you that asks for less, dreams smaller, or stays within the boundaries they have created for you. That doesn’t mean you need to change. Sometimes their discomfort is simply a reflection of what they are not ready to see.
Growth can be uncomfortable. Not only for us, but for the people watching us grow.
So let yourself take up space.
Let yourself be curious. Let yourself be passionate. Let yourself be a little strange, a little wild, a little witchy, a little whimsical. Follow the things that make your spirit feel alive.
You don’t have to become less bright so someone else doesn’t feel blinded by your light.
You don’t have to shrink who you are to make someone else comfortable with their own shadows.
Your life is yours to live. And perhaps the most beautiful form of self-love is realizing that you don’t have to abandon yourself just to be accepted by someone else.
Stay soft. Stay grounded. Stay true.
And let yourself become everything you were always meant to be. ✨🌙
Reflection:
Check in now with where you are at. Ask yourself where you may have been making yourself smaller for the comfort of others. What part of you has been waiting to be seen, heard, or welcomed?
You don’t have to change everything at once. Sometimes reclaiming yourself begins with one small permission:
There is a moment each year when the Earth seems to pause.
The green begins to soften into gold. The evenings arrive a little earlier. Gardens offer their final gifts, trees begin preparing to let go, and the air carries that unmistakable whisper that summer is ending.
This is Mabon the Autumn Equinox.
In 2026, the Autumn Equinox occurs on September 22 at approximately 8:05 p.m. EDT in the Eastern United States. (Time and Date)
For many, Mabon is a time of harvest, gratitude, balance, reflection, and release. It is often considered the second harvest festival of the modern Wheel of the Year, falling between Lughnasadh and Samhain.
And perhaps the greatest lesson of Mabon is this:
Not everything we have grown is meant to be carried into the next season.
🌗 A Season of Balance
The equinox represents a point of balance between light and darkness. Although day and night are not literally equal everywhere on the equinox, the symbolism is powerful: the light is beginning to surrender its dominance to the darkness.
Mabon asks us to look at our own lives in the same way.
Where are we balanced?
Where are we giving too much and receiving too little?
What nourishes us?
What drains us?
What have we accomplished since spring?
And what are we finally ready to release?
Mabon reminds us that darkness is not something to fear. It is part of the natural cycle. Just as the Earth needs the quiet of winter, we need periods of rest, reflection, and going inward.
🌾 The Harvest Within
Harvest isn’t only about what grows in the garden.
There is also the harvest of our lives.
Think back over the past year.
What have you planted?
What have you nurtured?
What survived the storms?
What finally came into bloom?
Perhaps you grew stronger. Perhaps you learned something difficult. Perhaps you walked away from something that was no longer healthy for you. Perhaps you discovered a part of yourself that had been waiting patiently to be seen.
Mabon encourages us to acknowledge those things.
Celebrate what came to fruition—even if it didn’t look exactly like you imagined.
There is wisdom in recognizing the harvest we actually received rather than mourning the harvest we expected.
🍎 The History of Mabon
There is an important distinction when talking about Mabon.
The Autumn Equinox and harvest traditions are ancient, and people throughout history and across many cultures have marked the changing seasons, gathered food, celebrated abundance, and prepared for winter.
However, Mabon itself is a modern Pagan name for the Autumn Equinox, rather than the name of a documented ancient Celtic festival. The name draws from Mabon ap Modron, a figure from medieval Welsh mythology, and became associated with the modern Pagan Wheel of the Year during the twentieth century. (Hālau ’Aha Hui Lānākila)
That doesn’t make the celebration any less meaningful.
In fact, there is something beautiful about recognizing that Mabon is a living spiritual tradition, one that draws upon humanity’s ancient relationship with the seasons while allowing modern people to create meaningful rituals of their own.
🖤 What Mabon Teaches Us
Perhaps Mabon is ultimately about learning to appreciate the beauty of impermanence.
The flower blooms and fades.
The garden gives and becomes dormant.
The leaves turn brilliant colors and fall.
The sun sets and rises again.
Everything moves in cycles.
We are not meant to remain forever in summer.
Sometimes we need to bloom.
Sometimes we need to harvest.
Sometimes we need to let go.
And sometimes we need to disappear into the quiet for a while so that something new can eventually grow.
So as Mabon arrives in 2026, pause. Look around at the life you have created. Give thanks for the harvest. Honor what didn’t survive. Release what has finished its purpose. Step gently into the coming darkness knowing that the darkness is not the end of the story.
It is simply another season.
Blessed Mabon. 🍂🌙🕯️
May your harvest be abundant, your heart be grateful, and your spirit find balance between the light and the shadow.
There is a different kind of sensitivity that comes with being an empath.
You feel the energy before the words are spoken. You can walk into a room and know something has shifted. You sense sadness behind a smile, tension beneath silence, and sometimes you carry emotions that were never yours to begin with.
It can feel like a gift.
And sometimes, it can feel like a curse.
Being an empath means learning that not every energy you feel belongs to you. Sometimes the heaviness in your heart isn’t yours. Sometimes the exhaustion isn’t yours. Sometimes you simply stood too close to someone else’s storm.
And learning to recognize that can change everything.
I am a huge Star Trek fan. I can not decide which series is my favorite, so I’ll just say I watch them all. The original series has an episode entitled “The Empath.” It was twelfth episode of the third season. The character, Gem (Kathryn Hays) possesses the unique ability to absorb physical pain and injuries into her own body, often healing others at great personal risk.
Star Trek: The Next Generation had a central character for the series, Counselor Deanna Troi, portrayed by Marina Sirtis. As a half-Betazoid, she possesses powerful extra-sensory empathic abilities, allowing her to feel the exact emotions of others. She was the ship’s counselor. Her character always fascinated me, because so much of what she portrayed, I identified with. I think I was like 10-11 when I watched the original series in re-runs. The episode with Gem, stayed with me. I didn’t know why, but I felt her. Watching it again, I see why it effected profoundly.
When you begin to realize that your gift is one of being The Empath, so many truths about your reactions and decisions begins to become clear, mainly because as an empath it is difficult to control your reactions, and hard to make really good decisions. It is hard to separate your feelings from facts, or what may appear as facts. It is near impossible to not react immediately to what you see and feel, good or bad.
Some won’t understand.
They may think you’re too emotional. They may not understand why certain places, people, or situations leave you feeling drained. They may not understand why you like solitude.
It took me a long time to get here to the place where I understand these truths:
Let them wonder.
You don’t have to explain your magic to someone who cannot feel it.
” You are way to sensitive. “
Being sensitive doesn’t mean being weak. It means you experience the world through more than what can be seen. Your intuition speaks in whispers. Your spirit notices things your mind hasn’t yet put into words.
But your gift requires boundaries.
You can feel someone’s pain without taking it home with you.
You can love someone without rescuing them.
You can understand someone’s darkness without stepping into it.
And you can walk away from energy that no longer belongs in your life.
That isn’t selfish.
That is sacred self-preservation.
So ground yourself. Spend time in nature. Light your candle. Hold your tea. Walk barefoot in the grass. Sit beneath the moon. Whatever brings you back to the quiet place within yourself—return there often.
Because the world will constantly try to tell you who you should be.
Don’t let it.
You weren’t given your sensitivity so you could spend your life apologizing for it.
You weren’t given your intuition so you could ignore it.
And you weren’t given your beautiful, complicated heart so you could make it smaller for someone else’s comfort.
Be yourself.
Even when they don’t understand.
Especially then.
Protect your energy. Trust your intuition. Keep your heart soft. Keep your boundaries strong.
And remember…
Not everyone will understand your magic. They don’t have to. It’s yours to know. 🌙🖤✨
Time has a way of moving quietly until suddenly we look around and wonder where the days, months, and years went.
One moment we’re wishing for tomorrow, and the next we’re longing for yesterday.
I found this to be true lately, because I turned around and wondered where the Summer has went. I see evidence to it’s end in my garden, and I can feel it in the air. The breeze against my face is different. There are days in these late Summer days, where I feel I’m running to catch something, and I can’t. You can’t catch time, or can you?
Maybe the lesson is to stop trying to catch it, and stay with it.
To notice the morning light.
Savor the conversation.
Laugh a little longer.
Hold the people we love a little closer.
Because time doesn’t slow down for us, but will indeed stay with us.
Stay with time, so we keep it close. ✨🌿
“There is a time in the last few days of summer when the ripeness of autumn fills the air,and time is quiet and mellow.” — Rudolfo Anaya
The Sturgeon Moon, the full Moon of August, rises on Friday, August 28, 2026, reaching its peak at 12:18 a.m. EDT. (Time and Date)
Named for the great lake sturgeon traditionally found in abundance in the Great Lakes during late summer, this Moon carries an ancient connection to water, survival, nourishment, and the rhythms of nature.
Our Sturgeon Moon invites us to pause and ask ourselves: What have I survived, and what am I ready to release?
Late summer is a threshold. The garden is overflowing, the days are beginning to shorten, and nature quietly reminds us that every season has its purpose. The Sturgeon Moon arrives with that same wisdom.
Growth does not mean holding onto everything we have gathered.
Sometimes growth means knowing what to let go of.
This particular Sturgeon Moon is especially powerful because it coincides with a deep partial lunar eclipse, with the greatest eclipse occurring at approximately 12:12 a.m. EDT, just minutes before the Moon reaches full illumination. (Farmers’ Almanac)
An eclipse can be viewed as a moment when the familiar light is temporarily altered and an invitation to look inward and notice what has been hidden in the shadows.
✨ The Sturgeon Moon whispers:
You have survived the waters that once frightened you. You have grown through seasons you thought would break you. You do not have to carry everything into the next chapter. Release what has completed its purpose. Make room for what is waiting to grow.
This is a beautiful Moon for cleansing, protection, emotional release, gratitude, and setting intentions for the season ahead.
On the night of August 27, step outside if the sky is clear. Let the Moonlight find you. Take a few quiet breaths. Think about everything this year has taught you and then imagine placing the weight you no longer need into the Moon’s light.
You don’t have to know exactly what comes next.
Sometimes the most powerful magic is simply trusting that the next season will meet you when you are ready for it. 🌙
Several years ago, I discovered that I was born under a Waning Cresent Moon on April 4, 1967. There is something profoundly beautiful about being born beneath this moon. Over time it has helped me work to understand who I am, the whys as to how I move through this life, and this knowledge has insisted that I continue to discover and learn about myself.
While most people are drawn to the brilliance of the Full Moon, there is a different kind of magic in the final sliver of light. In the quiet Moon that appears just before dawn, carrying the wisdom of an entire lunar cycle within her.
The Waning Crescent, sometimes called the Balsamic Moon, is the final phase before darkness gives way to the New Moon. It is a time of surrender, reflection, release, healing, and preparation for what has yet to be born.
And perhaps those born beneath her carry some of that same energy.
🌘 The energy of the old soul
Those born under a Waning Crescent Moon are often associated with deep intuition, introspection, spiritual awareness, and an unusual understanding of endings and beginnings.
There can be a feeling of knowing things without always knowing how you know them.
You may sense when something has run its course before anyone else recognizes it. You may find yourself drawn toward solitude, not because you don’t love people, but because you need quiet to hear your own inner voice.
The Waning Crescent teaches that wisdom doesn’t always come from doing more.
Sometimes it comes from observing. From listening. From allowing life to reveal what it has been trying to teach you all along.
🌿 You may be a keeper of endings
The Waning Crescent isn’t afraid of endings. I can say for me personally, I don’t even like the ending of a TV or Netflix series, let alone the ending of anything else. I do however understand this. I look out and see periods of profound transformation throughout life. Friendships change. Old identities fall away. Beliefs that once felt certain no longer fit.
There is an understanding that everything moves in cycles: beginnings, growth, fullness, decline, death, rest, and eventually rebirth. It does not make anything ending easy, but it gives balance.
And although those endings can hurt, there can also be an almost instinctive understanding that something must sometimes be released so something more authentic can emerge.
The lesson isn’t to cling to what is disappearing. It is to trust the space it leaves behind.
🔮 Your magic may live in the unseen
The Waning Crescent is a quiet Moon. It doesn’t demand attention.
It doesn’t need to be the brightest thing in the sky. And perhaps that is part of its lesson for us
Not all power is loud.
Some power looks like intuition.
Some looks like resilience.
Some looks like walking away.
Some looks like forgiveness.
Some looks like beginning again when nobody else understands why.
This Moon reminds us that darkness is not the absence of light. Sometimes darkness is where the next version of ourselves is forming.
✨ The gift of being born under the Waning Crescent
I was always drawn to this moon. My jewelry reflects this, even before I knew this about myself. Every time I saw any type of depiction of this moon, I would see it. I especially saw it as she lit the sky.
If you were born beneath this Moon, perhaps your greatest gift is your ability to understand the beauty of transformation. You know, somewhere deep within you, that life is not meant to remain the same. You are allowed to outgrow people. You are allowed to change your mind. You are allowed to shed identities that no longer fit. You are allowed to walk into the unknown. And you are allowed to become softer, wiser, quieter, and more deeply yourself.
Because the Waning Crescent carries one of the oldest messages of the Moon:
Nothing truly ends. It changes form. The light disappears, but it does not die. It simply prepares to return. And perhaps that is the magic you were born carrying.
The knowing that even in the darkest moments, another beginning is already gathering beneath the surface. 🌘🌿✨
There is a kind of loneliness that has nothing to do with being alone.
It is the feeling of standing in a crowded room and still longing for a soul who truly sees you. The feeling of outgrowing places, relationships, and versions of yourself that once felt like home.
But perhaps loneliness is not always an empty space. Perhaps sometimes it is sacred space.
A quiet season where Spirit whispers, “Come back to yourself.” 🌙
When the noise fades and the people who once surrounded you are no longer walking beside you, it can feel like abandonment. But sometimes what feels like being left behind is actually being gently redirected.
You are not forgotten. You are not too much. You are not unlovable.
You are simply learning that not every soul is meant to stay for every chapter.
So if you are lonely right now, sit with it gently. Light a candle. Step outside. Put your bare feet on the earth. Listen to the wind. Let the moon remind you that even in darkness, you are still becoming.
Some seasons are meant to be walked quietly.
And sometimes, the most important person you are being reunited with…
