September 2022

September 2022


September is the month of Mabon, a Pagan celebration of the Autumn Equinox held as the final bounty of summer is harvested. Although many of us may not be as intimately involved with the harvest rituals that inspire many of the ancient religious and spiritual practices, we are still guided by the palpable shifts in the world around us as one season is swallowed by the next. This is a time to practice gratitude in the face of lengthening darkness. The Autumn Equinox marks the moment when the northern hemisphere tilts further from the sun, and the nights begin to outlast the days.



Clarity of Purpose

Sapphire, the birthstone of September, is most commonly known as a vivid blue. In fact, these gemstones exist in a full spectrum of color, the reddest of them known as rubies. Some rare forms even change color depending on the light used to view them, a meditation on the hidden perspectives that exist all around us. That a sapphire manifests in so many varieties is a reminder of the multitudes we contain within us, and the endless potential for self-expression and purpose. Historically, sapphires represent wisdom and kindness, an enlightenment derived from inner peace and clarity. 

 K I N D N E S S - E N L I G H T E N M E N T - H O P E


N E W  M O O N

September 10

H A R V E S T  M O O N

The moon usually rises almost an hour after sunset, marked by a clear division of total darkness between day and night. Due to the shifting axis of the earth, however, the Harvest Moon rises almost immediately, sunlight and moonlight bleeding into one another, two realms briefly overlapping. The Harvest Moon appears enormous, hanging low on the horizon and glowing a deep, incandescent orange. To witness this moon can be a revelation, a humbling distortion of distance and scale. The moon isn’t actually any bigger than any other night, but the fact that it sits so near to the horizon and the trees and houses we’re familiar with—as opposed to being stranded in a vast field of stars—makes it feel as though it’s hanging just out of reach.


F U L L  M O O N

September 25



The bird doesn’t call the creek
that name. The bird doesn’t call it anything.
I’m almost certain, though I’m certain
of nothing. There is solitude in this world
I cannot pierce. I would die for it.
-Ada Limón