Waning & Weaving: Moon Journaling at Lughnasadh
What are you harvesting & what will you compost?
Let’s start with this:
"The seeds you planted are now fruits in your hands. But not every fruit needs to be carried forward."
We’re in the thick of summer’s heat and fullness. The first grains have been cut, the gardens are overflowing, and yet... You can feel the shift, can’t you? A sliver of something fading.
If you enjoy following the Wheel of the Year, Lughnasadh marks the first harvest, a festival of both celebration and surrender. And astrologically, it often arrives just after a Full Moon, or the waning phase. If you are into correspondence like I am, Lughnasadh corresponds with the Waning Gibbous moon.
This moon is a time of gratitude, discernment, and realignment. Think of it as the wise pause after the spotlight of the Full Moon. The party is winding down. Now we get to ask: What worked? What didn’t? What will I choose to let go of, even if it bloomed?
This post invites you to combine creative journaling and art-making to honor this energy, and to harvest your truth with your own two hands.
Creative Journal Prompts for Lughnasadh + Waning Gibbous Moon
These prompts are designed to go deeper. They are less of "What am I grateful for?" and more, "What part of me did I over-give to make this harvest possible?"
1. What did I grow that no longer sustains me?
Was it a role you played? A goal you reached but felt hollow? A version of you that bloomed but didn’t belong?
❥ Optional Art Project:
Create a Harvest + Compost Collage. On one side, collage images of your actual or symbolic harvest (cut-out fruits, flowers, symbols of your wins). On the other side, layer overripe, shadowy, or even “moldy” images, anything that feels like it’s past its usefulness. Add a few torn words or phrases from magazines that represent what you’re releasing.
2. What part of my harvest is for sharing & what is sacred to keep to myself?
Not everything you grow needs to be offered to others. Some blooms are for your heart only.
❥ Optional Art Project:
Make a Two-Vessel Visual—on one page, collage open palms, baskets, or bowls holding symbols of what you give to others (gifts, talents, knowledge, service). On another page, collage closed boxes, hearts, or sacred containers holding what is just for you (dreams not ready to be shared, quiet joy, personal truth).
Creative license: Use tracing paper, envelopes, or lift-the-flap cutouts to physically “hide” the sacred pieces inside your collage.
3. Who am I now that this cycle is complete?
Let the moon’s dimming light illuminate your evolution. You are not who you were at the New Moon. Who have you become?
❥ Optional Art Project:
Use tracing paper to sketch or collage a silhouette of yourself. Layer it with symbols, phrases, or textures that feel like “you now.” Overlay it with a transparent moon shape fading from full to waning.
4. Where did I overextend myself in this cycle?
Even in abundance, burnout can still be hidden. Get honest. Where did you give too much?
❥ Optional Art Project:
Watercolor bleeding or ink smudges can represent energetic leakage. Let the mess tell the story. Annotate with a few brutally honest (and loving) truths.
5. What are the weeds I mistook for flowers?
Sometimes we tend to be distracted or misled by illusions. Now’s your chance to name them.
❥ Optional Art Project:
Cut out or draw plants with curling roots. Label them with the names of beliefs, habits, or people that once seemed useful, but turned out to be invasive.
You’ve taken time to reflect, to create, and to honor this sacred moment between fullness and release. Whether you journaled one truth or filled pages with color and clarity, you’ve participated in an ancient rhythm, the act of harvesting with intention. Before you move on, let’s seal this moment with a small blessing.
As you tuck away your journal, fold up your collage, or stand before your altar, may you feel the soft breath of the Waning Gibbous Moon on your shoulder. She’s not here to push or pull, only to whisper:
“You are allowed to release what no longer sustains you. You are wise enough to know the difference. You are whole, even as you let go.”
Keep creating, keep composting, keep becoming.
You're doing beautifully.
