This month’s full moon is on Saturday, October 28, 2023. I led this ritual for my local Pagan group back in 2021, when we were still very much online. This meditation is well-suited to whatever format you wish for ritual – Solitary or group, in-person or virtual. It doesn’t even have to be limited to a full moon or the month of October – Use this meditation anytime there is something you need to let go of.
Quarter Calls
North
We call to the North, to the dominion of Earth, to our great home planet on which we live. Just as we are all born from Earth, we shall return to Earth when we die, and be reborn again. Earth is the great recycler of nature – every atom is purposed and repurposed over eons of life. Earth, element of the North, we call upon your stability and power of transmutation to help us remain grounded in the changes we bring about this night. Hail and welcome!
East
We call to the East, to the dominion of Air, where the day and the night both begin – where the sun rises, and so, too, does the moon. Seemingly opposite, but united in the circadian cycle of the Earth. Air, element of the East, we call upon your wisdom, intelligence, and inspiration as we create a new intention for today. Hail and welcome!
South
We call to the South, to the dominion of Fire, with the power to both create and destroy. Just as the Phoenix is consumed by the fire and reborn from the ashes, today we call upon the power of fire, element of the South, to burn away that which we do not need and to fuel us with the passion to create what we desire. Hail and welcome!
West
We call to the West, to the dominion of Water, where day and night both end – where the sun sets, and so, too, does the moon. West completes the cycle of day and night, the birth, death, and rebirth of each day. Water, element of the West, we call upon your great healing powers as we embark on our transformation this night. Hail and welcome!
Invoking the Firebird
We call to the spirit of the Firebird, to the brilliant phoenix burning like the sun. We call to the eternal bird that plunges bravely into the fire, that has lived a thousand lives and a thousand deaths, to be born yet again from the ashes. We call to the cleansing flame, that which burns away what we no longer need and leaves passion for something new in its wake. O Radiant Firebird, please guide us, as we embark on our transformation. Hail and welcome!
Introduction
As the wheel turns toward Samhain, we enter the sunset of the year. The nights are getting longer and colder. The branches of the trees, now speckled with their withered brown leaves, will soon be bare. We feel the thinning of the veil between the worlds. We find ourselves thinking of those that have passed on, of our loved ones and of our ancestors who did not survive the harsh winter ahead. This is the season that belongs to death.
But, just like the wheel of the year we honor as Pagans, death is a part of something larger. It is a part of a cycle that plays out over and over again. We see it in the changing of the seasons. We see it in compost given a new purpose in a garden. We see it in the water that has flowed over our Earth for billions of years. Death is not the end. Because after death, there is rebirth.
We see this illustrated in spectacular fashion in the story of the Firebird or Phoenix. A being, when tired of its outmoded life, surrenders itself to flame to be utterly consumed, and later rises from the ashes to be born anew. There is death, yes. There is loss and grief for what was. These must be honored and mourned. But there is also rebirth. Excitement for something new, and the passion to create what has yet to be.
The Firebird reminds us that even when life or a particular situation feels like it’s going up in flames, beautiful things can be born from the ashes. Sometimes closely-held dreams and fears have to die so that we can continue on – so that we can grow and evolve.
Tonight, I invite you to commune with the energy of the Firebird, and explore how you can honor the cycle of death and rebirth within yourself.
We will be going on a guided meditation to experience this energy. Think about something that you need to let go of so that you may create something new. This could be old pain or memories, unhelpful thoughts or fears, a particular situation or relationship, or any number of things. It can be abstract or concrete. And if you can’t think of anything right now, trust that you will know when the time comes.
Settle in and get comfy. Cut off the lights if you like. Cuddle up with a blanket. You may wish to have some food or drink nearby for grounding afterwards.
I also invite you to abandon your notions of fire safety in the mundane world – One of the benefits of meditation is that we can experience things we normally would not be able to. Let go of the fear and dance in the flames. This may be an intense sensory experience, but I invite you to lean into your discomfort.
Let’s take three deep breaths together, to bring ourselves back into our bodies, and into the present moment.
Meditation
You find yourself on the side of a mountain. The sun has long since set, and everything you see is bathed in the silvery light of the full moon. Countless stars shine in the inky black night. As you gaze upwards, it looks like you could fall into infinity.
You turn your attention to the path before you – a small winding trail with trees on your left and an open view into the valley on your right. The scent of spruce and fir fills your nostrils and you take a deep breath of the crisp night air.
…
The path before is rocky, but not too steep. You look upward, toward the top of the mountain. You are about three quarters of the way there. At the top of the mountain, you see a golden glow – a startling bit of color in the grey monochrome of the moonlight. You know that this is your destination.
You begin to climb up the mountain, feeling the shape of the rocks beneath your feet on the path. It is peaceful and quiet, save for the gentle crunch of pine needles underfoot. You feel the chill of the night on your cheeks and sense the energy of possibility humming in the air.
As you brush past the trees, you feel the slight prick of evergreen needles through your clothes. You reach out to touch the trunk of a nearby tree for balance, and you feel its rough brown bark as a steadying force underneath your palm.
You continue to climb, your breaths coming more rapidly now, but not too labored. The golden glow grows brighter with each step, but it is the full moon that lights your way now. You look up to the sky and marvel at its beauty – a bright silver disk hanging in the sky. The moon is beginning to lose its warm autumn tinge and take on the colder light of winter. The path before you is lit in stark contrast. You see the shadows move and shift as you pass, a dance of light and dark.
With your final few steps, you reach the summit of the mountain. It is a flat clearing about 30 feet across, in full view of the radiant moon. You see standing before you an enormous bird, towering over you. Its feathers are constantly shifting and changing in color – A fiery cascade of red, orange, and yellow, emitting a golden glow. It is a brilliant sight. Its curved beak comes to an impressive point, but despite the creature’s size, you are not afraid. The bird regards you with its coal black eyes in a piercing gaze, and you bow your head in awe and respect.
Standing before you is the Firebird, the Phoenix of myth and legend.
You hear a voice echoing in your head.
“You have made quite the journey. Why have you come here?”
Though you can understand this voice, you sense behind it the whistles and trills of birdsong. A quiet melody underlining the words you know as human speech.
You tell the Firebird why you have climbed this mountain, why you are embarking on this journey, why you are here tonight.
…
The Firebird gives a slight nod, acknowledging your purpose.
“You know what you have to do,” the Firebird says, gesturing with one wing to the left. You had been so caught up in awe of the spectacular sight of this radiant phoenix, with its ever-shifting mosaic of feathers, that you did not notice the nest in the center of the clearing.
A large nest, big enough to fit you five times over, lies next to the Firebird. It has been constructed with care, with branches and twigs of all kinds woven together. Cinnamon bark is curled among the sticks, and the nest is lined with leaves of laurel and resins of frankincense and myrrh.
You feel a weight drop into your pocket, and reach in to find a box of matches. You pull it out. You look from matches to the nest to the Firebird, and the phoenix gives you a slight nod.
You know what you have to do – The words echo in your ears.
You strike the match and hold it in front of you. The small flame blazes to life, and you hold that small flame in your memory. You drop the match onto the nest, and it bursts into radiant fire.
The fire spreads around the edges of the nest first, catching on the dry bark and resins. To your surprise, the Firebird takes flight, hovering a few feet above the ground, beating its wings, sending its own energy into the fire. The air and the energy of the Firebird stoke the flames before you, and they erupt into a huge bonfire taller than your head!
You watch the warm colors of the fire dance before you in awe. Is the fire safe? You wonder for a moment before realizing that’s not the point. It doesn’t matter if the fire is safe. The fire is necessary, whether it is safe or not.
You think of what brought you here. You focus on why you made this journey, on what you need to let go.
As the fire crescendos even higher, your resolve crystallizes and you step into the flame.
…
You feel the fire raging around you, the heat almost unbearable, yet it does not burn you. It is almost a tingling sensation, but slightly abrasive, that comes and goes as the flames dance around. The fire does not harm you. Your vision is filled with a kaleidoscope of yellow, orange, and red. The white of ash and the black of soot.
The fragrant smoke fills your nose with scents of laurel and cinnamon, frankincense and myrrh, mixed with the earthy scent of a campfire. You hear the roar and the crackle of the fire all around you, and feel it deep in your bones.
Bolder now, you step further into the fire, holding your arms out and feeling the flames lick around them. You hear the voice of the Firebird echo in your mind:
“What do you need to let go? What must die so that something new can be born?”
…
You hold that intention, and fill yourself with the energy of what must be released. Whatever it is, feel it fully. Lean into the old memories, the grief, the pain, the fear, whatever it is. Whenever you have filled yourself up with it, surrender it to the fire.
Welcome the fire in. Feel it burn away those old energies and emotions with searing, radiant light.
…
You feel the last vestiges drop away. In its place, you feel an incredible lightness. The fire has cleansed you of what no longer serves you. None of it remains.
In this space, in this lightness, you begin to feel a different fire burning, this time coming from within. A warm, gentle fire is born inside of you, from the ashes of what you let go. Feel this young and tender flame grow in the center of your chest, and expand out to fill your entire body – down your arms, filling your hands with energy to do this new work – down your legs and into your feet to carry you where you need to go – and up into your head to empower you with the knowledge to get there. Feel yourself full of this radiant light.
…
“It is done,” you hear the Firebird whisper in your head.
The fire around you slowly dies down, the flames dissolving into embers, which smolder into soot and ash. You feel the cool night breeze on your face again, the crisp autumn air filling your lungs. The world is dark in the absence of the fire, save for the gentle glow of the Firebird and the full moon.
You bow your head in thanks to the Firebird, and it inclines its head to you as well. In a flourish of wings and smoke, the phoenix bursts into flame before you, burning almost as bright as the sun. You shield your eyes, and in a moment, the light is gone. You look around for the brilliant creature, but all you find is burnt ground and a few lingering wisps of smoke.
As you wonder where the Firebird might have gone, another light catches your eye. You look up to the sky, and see a dazzling array of stars appear in the night sky. They carry the same warm light of the Firebird, and are arranged in a constellation of a soaring phoenix.
You smile up at the sky, and you hear a soft whisper on the wind:
Remember this night. Remember these gifts and how to use them. Honor the cycles of life, death, and rebirth in the world, and in yourself.
…
With a silent promise to the Firebird, you turn around, and head back down the mountain path.
As you leave the clearing, you feel the fire you carry within you burning brightly. It has joined with the energy of the moon to light your way forward.
…
Returning to the Here and Now
You take a deep breath and you feel the mountain path begin to fade away. Come back to this time and this place. Feel wherever you are sitting. Wiggle your fingers and toes. Open your eyes when you are ready.
You may wish to ground a little now. Stamp your feet. Get some food or drink. Touch a stone or the earth.
Gratitude to the Firebird
O Spirit of the Firebird, Eternal Phoenix, we thank you for guiding us in our journey tonight. May you burn brightly in our hearts, and remind us of the brilliant transformation of rebirth. Hail and blessed be!
Release the Quarters
West
We give gratitude to the West, to the element of Water, for being with us here tonight. As we feel the nourishing rains on our skin, watch the river flow mightily toward the ocean, and watch the morning dew evaporate in the light of the sun, may we be reminded of the cycles of death and rebirth. Element of Water, hail and farewell!
South
We give gratitude to the South, to the element of Fire, for being with us here tonight. As we watch the flare of a match light the tinder of campfire, feel the warmth and the glow as the bonfire grows, and watch it once again shrink to burning embers, may we be reminded of the cycles of death and rebirth. Element of Fire, hail and farewell!
East
We give gratitude to the East, to the element of Air, for being with us here tonight. As we watch the movement of the clouds, feel the warm and cold fronts that bring our weather, and relish in the cooling breezes of summer and the warm, wet winds of spring, may we be reminded of the cycles of death and rebirth. Element of Air, hail and farewell!
North
We give gratitude to the North, to the element of Earth, for being with us here tonight. As we see the leaves drop from the trees in the autumn, to nourish the soil in the winter, and become spring’s new growth, may we be reminded of the cycles of death and rebirth. Element of Earth, hail and farewell!
Priestess of Aphrodite 