Good morning, dear Reader and happy Monday!

As I begin this new entry in my ‘electronic grimoire’ (I absolutely love calling it that– it makes me chuckle), I am with my loyal companion: a cup of pumpkin coffee in my favorite mug: a pumpkin.

• Do you happen to have a particular cup that you enjoy drinking your coffee or tea out of? For me, it’s like a hug in the morning… or afternoon!

Summer has not yet released us from its heated hell and yet if you pay close enough attention, you can already feel autumn stirring beneath it. Just walking around yesterday, I picked up several red, orange and yellow leaves, signifying that autumn is drawing near.

The sunlight is beginning to change. The evenings are also arriving a little differently than they did at the start of the season. The cicadas sing their ancient songs from the trees, gardens grow heavy with what they have spent the summer creating and somewhere beneath all that green, the first leaves are quietly considering gold.

It is a season between seasons, a threshold. And perhaps that is why the Lion’s Gate feels especially powerful to me this year. I do not want to approach manifestation as though I am standing before the Universe with a shopping list of things I would like to receive. I want to approach it as a declaration.

I am ready: Ready to become, ready to receive, ready to release the versions of myself that were necessary for previous chapters but cannot accompany me into the next one.

There are things I planted earlier this year that have yet to break through the soil. There are dreams I have whispered about, written about, prayed over, worked toward, doubted, returned to and refused to completely abandon.

And as summer begins its slow descent toward autumn, I find myself thinking less about what I want and more about what I am willing to make room for– you see, manifestation requires space. You cannot endlessly call things into your hands that refuse to put anything down.

Beneath the energy of the Lion’s Gate, I am opening my hands:

I release the need to know exactly how everything will unfold.

I release the fear that I have somehow missed my moment.

I release the belief that struggle must always precede abundance.

I release what has exhausted its purpose in my life.

And I make room for transformation.

Not the delicate sort that changes a few things around the edges, but the kind that reaches down into the roots and asks:

Who are you becoming now?

I am becoming someone who trusts herself more deeply. Someone who does not shrink her dreams simply because they frighten her. Someone who understands that peace is not something I must earn after everything is finished. Peace can exist while I am still building. I am calling in spiritual alignment—not because I expect every answer to suddenly become clear, but because I want to recognize the quiet voice within myself when it speaks.

May I know what is mine.

May I recognize what is not.

May I have the wisdom to understand the difference.

And then there is abundance.

I welcome it.

Fully.

Without apology.

I am calling abundance into my work, my creativity and the things I am building with my own hands.

I want my ideas to find the people who need them.

I want my work to grow.

I want the seeds I have faithfully planted to become something tangible.

I want opportunities that align with who I am rather than requiring me to become smaller in order to receive them.

I welcome financial growth.

I welcome creative growth.

I welcome expansion.

I welcome the beautiful surprise of discovering that something can become larger than I originally imagined.

There was once a version of me who might have whispered those desires cautiously and hid them away.

Today, I write them plainly.

I am allowed to desire a life that flourishes.

And perhaps that is the lesson I am carrying from summer into autumn.

Summer teaches us expansion. Everything reaches toward the sun. Gardens spill beyond their borders. Flowers open unapologetically. The days stretch themselves as far as they possibly can.

But autumn teaches something different.

Autumn says: ‘Now decide what you are taking with you.‘

Soon there will be pumpkins on doorsteps and smoke curling from chimneys. The air will sharpen. Trees will turn themselves into fire before surrendering their leaves to the earth. And I will change with them.

I do not fear the shedding.

There are pieces of myself I am ready to leave among the fallen leaves.

Old doubts. Old expectations. Old stories. Old fears dressed as practicality

They may have belonged to me once, however they do not belong to where I am going.

So beneath this Lion’s Gate, standing between the golden abundance of summer and the first whispered promise of autumn, I set my intentions:

May what is meant for me find me.

May what I am building prosper.

May my intuition become louder than my fear.

May I remain aligned with the life I am creating.

May abundance enter my life through doors I have opened and doors I never knew existed.

May I have the courage to walk through them when they appear.

And may I remember that manifestation is not merely asking the Universe to change my circumstances.

Sometimes manifestation begins when I decide to change.

The wheel is turning.

Summer is beginning its farewell.

Autumn waits just beyond the threshold.

And this time, I am not standing still and watching the season change around me.

I am crossing the threshold with it.

Until we meet again, my friends, may your coffee be delicious, your intuition be louder and a little magick find you wherever you roam.

FB.