Palabras Prohibidas

By Fernando Castillo

There is an exact moment in the turning of the year when the cosmos seems to hold its breath. An invisible turning point where light and shadow face each other, measure their strength, and recognize themselves as absolute equals. It is the equinox: the gateway to Mabon, the threshold where the Earth bows its head and invites us to pause our march.

In a world dominated by hurry, relentless productivity, and the constant pressure to always be «under construction,» autumn brings us a radical lesson that nature understands intuitively: we cannot bloom forever. For the earth to bear fruit again, it must enter its time of rest and quiet reflection.

The Inner Harvest: Weighing the Journey

Historically, Mabon marks the second major harvest of the agricultural year. It was the moment when ancient communities looked at their barns, counted their apples, stored their grain, and knew with certainty whether the summer’s hard work would sustain them through the winter.

Brought to the realm of personal life, this moment of balance is an invitation to perform a conscious sifting:

• Acknowledge what was sown: Look back and honor the effort invested in our projects, relationships, and creative processes.
• Give thanks for abundance: Celebrate not only the big victories, but also the «silent blessings»—the invisible lessons, health, and quiet consistency—that sustained our path during the most intense months.
• Evaluate with honesty: Discern between what bore fruit and what simply did not thrive.

The Grace of Letting Go: The Lesson of the Leaves

“Grant me the wisdom to weigh what I have gathered, the strength to preserve what nourishes my soul, and the grace to release all that no longer serves.”

Few acts require as much elegance and courage as letting go. Trees do not fight the wind when it is time to lose their leaves; they do not cling to what was their greatest beauty in spring. They understand that keeping that foliage through the frost would only drain their vital energy.

Letting go is not losing; it is an act of sovereignty and mental well-being. It means releasing habits that wear us down, expectations that do not belong to us, or stages that have already served their purpose. It is clearing our internal ground so tomorrow’s seeds have space to germinate when the wheel turns once more.

A Small Ritual to Attune with the Season

You don’t need grand ceremonies or complex elements to honor this turn of the earth. True magic resides in intention and the simplicity of the everyday:

• Walk with mindfulness: Step out into a park or green space and observe the transformation of the landscape. Feel the shift in temperature on your skin and the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet.
• Write your balance: On a piece of paper, create two columns. On one side, write down everything for which you feel deep gratitude in this cycle. On the other side, write down what you are ready to surrender and release.
• An offering of gratitude: Respectfully burn or bury that list of what you are releasing, returning to the earth what you no longer need so it may be transmuted into compost. Lighting a candle in warm tones (yellow, orange, or brown) will serve as a symbol of the inner light you will keep alive during the darker months.

Rest as an Act of Faith

Autumn teaches us that darkness is not the enemy of light, but its indispensable complement. Surrendering to the rhythm of nature means trusting that, after the pause and the apparent silence of winter, life always finds a way to be reborn.

On this equinox, pause, take a deep breath, and celebrate your own harvest. Blessed be the Earth, and blessed be each of our human harvests.