Surrendering: Autumn

An invitation awaits to connect to the gifts of Autumn in this guided meditation. Through imagery, music and the spoken word the gifts and wisdom of this season allow you to surrend to the transformative aspects of this time of year.

Transcript

Hi, I'm Barbara Murray Lane. Welcome to my series of heart-centered meditations based on the seasons of the year within a garden. I invite you to join me in exploring the exterior landscape as well as your personal interior landscape of each season, Cultivating your own garden in your heart as you move through each seasonal meditation. Simply listening with openness and curiosity, Following your own heart's messages. Perhaps having a journal nearby to record any thoughts or reflections. And so my friend, Let's begin. Come with me. Listen, Imagine, And dream as you walk the path towards the garden of your heart. Discovering all the gifts and wonder the season of autumn has to offer you. Surrendering, Autumn. I am listening to the song of transformation, To the wisdom of the season, To the losses and the grieving, To the turning loose and letting go. I am listening to the surrender of autumn. Em vindica. And so beginning once again, My friend, Paying attention to the inhale and the exhale of your breath. With this breath in and this breath out, Settling any restless parts as you once again rest into a comfortable position to begin your heart's journey along your now well-worn path. Imagining a brilliant blue sky overhead, Abandoned by clouds as sunset begins to capture the sky on this late autumn afternoon. A pair of hawks circle just above you. Cooler temperatures greet your skin. A chill is noticeable as is the shortened daylight. Imagining the crunching of fallen leaves, Acorns, Pine cones that cover your path as you cross through the gate and enter this now familiar sacred home of your garden. Noticing how autumn has already transformed your garden. Perhaps some sunflowers chewed seedless by the squirrels. A few faded roses hanging their heads, Surrendering to the weight of the season. Mums brighten the path here and there. Late blooming daisies a pleasant memory of what has passed. But other areas of the garden are already muted and darkened by the decaying of life all around. Piles of leaves rustle around you as you walk, Noticing yellow ferns and grasses. The browning of the earth along the path. The deep burgundy of a Japanese maple bush. A standalone beauty. You are startled by the busy activities of squirrels crossing your path, Scurrying with cheeks holding winters storehouse preparations as they two sense the season ahead. Autumn is a time of great change and surrender as the earth lets go of all that was harvested in summer and prepares for all that is needed for winter. Autumn does this with beauty and grace, Accepting the surrendering that must occur to move on to the next shift in the earth's cycle. Noticing the shift in your garden as the path narrows and the air is noticeably cooler with the setting sun. The sound of falling leaves released from their branches, Perhaps smelling the decay of the earth or the fresh crisp scent of apples in the air or the scent of a fire nearby. The cry of the hawks overhead distracts you as you watch them gracefully circle one another on the winds. Hawks are messengers from above. They bring illumination, Wisdom and truth, Offering a larger perspective. The Sun gives over to dusk as you move along the path. The moon begins its journey up through the trees into the sky overhead. All seems to be giving over to the changes approaching. The path widens, Leading to a circle of trees. With the fading light you can see a few regal evergreens and the last brilliance of orange, Red and deep burgundy leaves still clinging to the trees. An unexpected surprise at the heart of your garden. Ah, There you see a rocking chair awaits you under the canopy of the almost naked trees. The full moon and the watchful eyes of the hawks, Welcoming guides. A resting place inviting you to sit a while. A small fire nearby to keep you warm. And so you do, My friend. Looking up into the growing night sky at the glow of the harvest moon, The trees, A flock of geese crosses the sky overhead with their familiar noises. The last echo of peepers off in the distance before quietness descends. And so, Resting in the quiet softness of the evening, In this beautiful clearing in the heart of your garden, Can you hear the dropping and letting go of the trees all around you? The giving way of life? How might this be a mirror for your inner landscape? What are you giving way to? What in your heart feels satisfied, Full and plentiful like the harvest that has just passed? And what part of your heart feels ready to surrender and let go of that which no longer serves you? What are you making room for so you can lean into the mystery of the next season to come? And so, Resting here a while in your rocking chair with a fire nearby, Curious with your thoughts and questions, The full moon overhead, The hawks offering a larger perspective, In this clearing surrounded by the wisdom of the trees, All supporting you as you take as much time as you need to rest, To reflect in the heart of your inner garden. Affirmation. Affirmation. I invite the energy of autumn, Surrendering to what no longer serves me as I make space in my heart. I invite the energy of autumn, Surrendering to what no longer serves me as I make space in my heart. Transitioning when you are ready, Your journal nearby, This breath in and this breath out. I invite the energy of autumn, Surrendering to what no longer serves me as I make space in my heart. I invite the energy of autumn, Surrendering to what no longer serves me as I make space in my heart.