Writing meaningful Autumn rituals based on seasonal reflections of the land, stars, and lore doesn’t have to be hard, but it does take time and practice.
Autumn has arrived in the fields around my home. The heat has broken and the New England asters are out in full force. We’ve moved out of Virgo season, into Libra. The grackles are swooping in huge flocks; foraging for the seeds of the season. All around me, the wheel is turning and I’m am reminded of the fact that this is the last harvest.
Even though I don’t live like my ancestors did, I find the desire to nest becoming stronger. From making candles to baking, I find myself naturally drawn to slowing down and stockpiling. I want to read again and cross-stitch. I am moving into the slower rhythms of life as the nights get colder and I gather around the fire with my family, watching the stars at night.
Engaging with the Seasons Intentionally
With each seasonal shift comes a new opportunity to explore my relationship with the land, spiritually and physically. In keeping with that, I spent the last week of Virgo season working on an Autumn equinox rite. Crafting a ritual that feels right for the moment and for my coven. I think I’ve found the right note but as we’ll only gather on the 29th, Michaelmas if you will, we’ll only truly know in a few days.
Sitting down to write this ritual, I knew I wanted to focus on the journey into the Otherworld; the beginning journey into the heart of self beyond the trappings of the world around us. The obvious choice here is to look at Persephone myths, but I wanted the journey to be more voluntary, so I opted to subtly frame the ritual around the lore of Inanna’s journey. Entering the circle, coveners will be asked to let go of something, just like Inanna had to let go of her symbols of sovereignty as she entered the Underworld.
Embracing the Sun’s Journey into the Otherworld
I also wanted the sabbat to be a celebration of the Horned God, or the Sun. A recognition, if you will, of all the sun provides us as the days shorten. Finding the right balance between the two is where the magic happens in ritual writing. The part that I delight in, even as it frustrates me when I am seeking the right note.
Of course, there is also the joy in filling the rite with symbols that some might catch and others might not. From the cottonwood tree branches, the first tree to bud and the first to fall, that also have associations with the Underworld, a small touch that most of my coven mates will miss, but I know it’s there and so it adds a depth that adds to my experience. Because, frankly, the person who writes and runs a ritual takes on a different role and experiences the ritual differently than other participants, so it’s nice to have little things in there that strike an extra note of meaning for you in the practice.
Ritual Writing Prompts
How do you go about writing rituals? Especially when you’re not used to doing it?
I think the first level answer to this question is to figure out what your framework is for the ritual. I work within a Wiccan context, so I have some lore and associations I can already draw on. There are foundational rituals that I can work with or I can choose to do something completely different.
I generally make an inventory of what is out there, make notes about what the season means and the various myths associated with it, before I begin. From there, I identify which elements I want to work with and start playing with activities that I feel will reinforce the message of the season in a way that is accessible to all members of the coven.
Things to consider:
- What myths are out there about this season? What cultural celebrations exist around the world? I’m not advocating taking from these cultures, but learning about how different cultures approach the season can enrich your ability to see things we tend to be blind to in our own cultures.
- Don’t overlook folk myths – even the ones steeped in the lore of Big Religions you might not like. They might have a lot more to do with the land than you realize (Michaelmas lore around eating geese seems, in my opinion, fairly well linked to the geese migration season where I live)
- Observe what is happening the land. Do the plants have stories to tell you? For us, the Cottonwood is shedding it’s leaves and the asters are blooming. What stories can we find about both? As an example, what can we do with the asters as a symbol of love?
- Look to the stars. What does astrology tell you about this tide? Leaving Virgo season, we shift from lore associated with Isis and Demeter, into lore around justice. And that’s just one area of the world.
- Think about divination systems. How does entering the tide of Justice (tarot) reflect the transition of the season? What rune would you associate with this time? I Ching?
It’s also important to me though, to make sure that things are somewhat subtle and interwoven with several symbolic elements that people will tease out based on their own needs of the moment.
Pulling Threads Together
For the Autumn Equinox there are common themes around what we harvest, what we let go, the changing landscape, honouring the work of the Sun and the shift into a more Lunar mode of living. I work with duality in my rituals (not gender polarity per se) and so I often will have an underpinning of contrast between spheres at play. For example, in the full moon in Pisces, I will also play with Sun in Virgo energies. Not all covens or practitioners will do this but it is core to how we work as a coven, even if my coveners don’t always realize this!
As a Wiccan, I also have a basic ritual outline that I frame my seasonal ritual around, which accounts for a good portion of the work we do. From casting the circle to calling the quarters, these are generally done the same way for us every circle. I only adapt the main ritual working for the season. But from time to time, I will play with other formats, just to give us flexibility in practice.
The Intuitive, Magical Part of Crafting Ritual
The best tip I can give to writing meaningful autumn rituals is to spend some time meditating on what you and the people you’re working with need in this time. Don’t assume. Take time. Let the Universe tell you through patterns, prompts, and symbols. Listen to the wind, the trees, the egregores around you. Sometimes the cycle only shifts subtly from year to year. An old ritual might only need a small tweak for this turn around the sun.
Give yourself time for this work. While you might write the ritual quickly, the process of tuning and and listening are where the magic is. It’s where you do a lot of the actual work of the season. Its amazing and one of the best parts about crafting rituals.
My experience of the ritual might be different as the writer and priestess who leads the rites, but the process behind the work: that’s the chef’s kiss!
Another example of this process at work, if you’re curious to see how it enriches your experience of the sabbat: 3 ways to understand the Summer Sabbat locally