Fall Equinox: Abundance, Gratitude, and Giving in Times of Trouble

At the Autumn Equinox, the Earth pauses. Day and night meet as equals, and for a brief moment, balance reigns. This turning point in the year invites us to do the same: to pause, reflect, and ask ourselves what we've gathered and what we're ready to give.

And I know that for many of us, finding balance, or even harmony, feels particularly challenging right now. The world feels heavy with uncertainty and fear. You may be wondering how to think about abundance and offering when your own reserves are depleted, when the news leaves you anxious, when caring for others has left you running on empty.

And yet, Fall Equinox is the season of harvest, not just of crops, but of experiences, lessons, and transformations. It's a time to honor abundance and to consider how that abundance might overflow into the lives of others. Sometimes we've harvested resilience, the ability to keep showing up, or simply having survived. These too are offerings.

What have you cultivated this year, emotionally, spiritually, creatively, that is now ripe for sharing?

This reflection is not about productivity or achievement. It's about presence. In a world that demands speed and performance, presence is radical. In times of chaos, presence becomes even more radical and necessary. It's about noticing what has grown in the quiet corners of your life. It might feel like weeds. It might not feel like ripening grain. Maybe it's a deeper sense of compassion. Maybe it's a renewed connection to nature. Maybe it's a story you've carried that's ready to be told. Whatever it is, this is the moment to hold it up and ask: What do I offer back to my community, to the Earth, to the future?

We often think of giving as an act of generosity, but it's also an act of trust. To offer something of ourselves is to believe that it might matter. And it does. Even the smallest offering: a kind word, a moment of listening, a gesture of care, can ripple outward in ways we may never see.

As you reflect, consider the balance, the harmony in your own life. Have you made space for both action and rest? For both giving and receiving? For both joy and sorrow? Balance is not a static state: it's a dance. Harmony requires attention, adjustment, and sometimes surrender. The equinox reminds us that this kind of balance is possible, even if fleeting. It's something to turn toward, not something to perfect.

Think back over the past year. What have you been harvesting? What moments stand out as meaningful, transformative, or tender? These are the fruits of your inner garden, worthy of celebration.

Now ask yourself: What of this am I ready to share? What part of your harvest is meant not just for you, but for others? This could be a skill, a story, a practice, or simply your presence. It could be something tangible or something intangible. The important thing is that it comes from a place of authenticity and your own abundance.

Sometimes offering the overflow means letting go. Just as trees release their leaves, we too are invited to release what no longer serves us. What habits, fears, or narratives are you ready to plow under? Maybe releasing the compulsion to recite all the world's troubles: that's a form of letting go that creates space for healing action. What can be composted into wisdom, clarity, or space for new growth?

Letting go is not always easy. It can feel like loss. But it's also a gift. It creates space for what's next. It honors the cycle of life, where endings make way for beginnings. In this season, letting go is an offering in itself.

As you sit with these questions, allow yourself to feel into them. Let them be seeds planted in the soil of your awareness. They may sprout now or later, slowly or suddenly. Trust the timing.

Here are some questions:

What spiritual gift or soul-legacy do I feel ready to offer?

What have I harvested this year, emotionally, spiritually, creatively?

How do I share my abundance with others?

You don't need to have all the answers. You don't even really need to have one answer. You only need to be willing to ask, to listen, to notice.

I'm also inviting you to honor the gifts of others. Just as you consider your own offerings, recognize what others have shared with you: a friend's support, a stranger's kindness, a teacher's wisdom, a moment of beauty in nature. These are part of the harvest too.

Gratitude is another form of offering. When we express thanks, we affirm the value of what we've received. We complete the circle. We become part of the flow.

And if you feel like you have little to offer right now, know that your presence is enough. Your willingness to reflect is enough. There is no minimum requirement for being part of the harvest. You belong here.

As we move deeper into autumn, let this reflection sit with you. Let it guide your choices, your interactions, your celebrations. Let it remind you that you are part of a larger rhythm: a rhythm of gathering, giving, releasing, and renewing.

You are the harvest. You are the offering. You are the overflow.

Blessed be this season of balance. Blessed be the gifts you carry. Blessed be the ways you choose to share them.

Mount Hood sunset, photo by Amy Beltaine

Rooted in Harvest, Open to Overflow

A Guided Meditation for Fall Equinox, 2025

Everything offered in this grounding is an invitation. Please engage in whatever way feels right to you. You are the sacred steward of your own experience:

Let's begin by arriving. Here. Now. With whatever this moment brings.

Feel the contact between your body and what holds you: the floor beneath your feet, the chair beneath your hips, the air brushing your skin.

If your body feels distant today, bring awareness to your surroundings: the quality of light, the shapes of shadow, the sounds of breath or birdsong or silence.

Now, shift your attention to the quiet ways your body is alive. Notice your heartbeat's rhythm, its persistence. Feel the breath moving in and out as presence itself. Sense the weight of your limbs, the warmth of your skin, the stillness or stirrings within.

Let your awareness settle there. You are already enough. You are already here.

Let yourself be held: by gravity, by the Earth, by the moment. Let yourself be rooted: like a tree in late summer, drawing strength from deep soil, preparing to release what has fulfilled its purpose.

Now, gently notice what's present in your body. Warmth or coolness. Tension or ease. Emotion or emptiness. Simply offer it your attention.

If anything feels overwhelming, return to your anchor: the breath, the heartbeat, the ground beneath you.

The now is enough.

In this grounded presence, I invite a question: What have you gathered this year that is ready to be shared? What you've grown through living. What you've learned through experience.

Perhaps it's wisdom earned through difficulty. Perhaps it's a joy that surprised you. Perhaps it's a story, a skill, a truth, a tenderness.

Let it rise gently in your awareness. Simply notice what wants to be offered.

Now, another question: What are you ready to release? What has served its purpose? What can be composted into wisdom?

Maybe it's a habit, a fear, a role, a story you've outgrown. Let it fall like a leaf in autumn: returned to the Earth with gratitude.

You are part of the cycle. You are part of the harvest. You are part of the offering.

Feel the balance: between holding and releasing, between gathering and giving, between being and becoming.

You are woven into the season. You are the season. You are the turning. You are the overflow.

Come back now to this moment. To the sensation of your feet or seat. To your breath. To your body. To this place. To this now.

You are here. You are rooted. You are enough.

When you're ready, begin to reawaken gently. Wiggle your fingers. Roll your shoulders. Notice the space around you. Take in a sound, a color, a presence.

Let this grounded awareness guide you.

Blessed be.

Beloved, you are whole, holy, and worthy,

Rev. Amy

This Spiritual Feast series is ©2025 Amy Beltaine, all rights reserved. You may freely reprint any blog post, website, or print resource. Simply include the following attribution, and if you print online, make the link at the end live.

MoonForestBone

Sunday, September 21, 2025