Rooted Meditation | Hallowed Harvest: Spooky Guided Meditation

For this meditation Monday, we get a bit spooky! Join me for a chillingly calm Halloween experience as I take you through an immersive guided meditation through the eerie cornfields of the Hallowed Harvest. 

From a wagon ride under the harvest moon to exploring a mysterious pumpkin patch, this narrative invites you to surrender to the strange and surreal. Embrace the calm yet unsettling atmosphere, encounter whispering pumpkins, and navigate through a haunting corn maze.

Feel the farm's energy and find out if you can escape—or if you become a part of the harvest forever.

00:00 Welcome to Hallowed Harvest

01:10 The Journey Begins02:54 A Haunting Wagon Ride

08:27 The Enchanted Pumpkin Patch

11:33 The Corn Maze

16:26 The Final Revelation

#HallowedHarvest #HalloweenMeditation #SpookyMeditation #GuidedMeditation #HalloweenASMR #HauntedMeditation #SpiritualHalloween #MeditationJourney #CornfieldMeditation #CalmAndCreepy

Rooted in truth. Rising in frequency.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
Hello, Welcome. In honor of Halloween, I invite you to
something a little different tonight, not a meditation for stillness,
but one that may require surrender. He des sent into

(00:25):
something oddly relaxing. I shall be your guide this evening
through the cornfields, where sound bends and strange ways and
the shadows. Always remember your name. Welcome, dear traveler to

(00:55):
hallowed Harvest. Hello, I'll be your guide tonight. I am

(01:15):
the caretaker of our little facility. Most guests find it
rather overwhelming, so I'll walk with you for as long
as I can.

Speaker 2 (01:35):
Uh.

Speaker 1 (01:35):
Oh, I see you came alone. Bold move That's all right.
Some journeys simply require solitude. Let me see your ticket.

(01:56):
The Harvest package my favorite. This package begins with a
long wagon ride through the fields. We will pick pumpkins
beneath the harvest moon and enjoy a scenic stroll through

(02:23):
the patch before dawn. You'll find the pumpkins extraordinary this year,
some large enough to lean against, some whispering when you
pass by. Now, come along. The wagon is waiting. Oh,

(02:55):
I almost forgot before we board. Take a long, steady
breath in through your nose. Hold it for account of
four three two One, feel the chill of autumns as

(03:18):
you exhale, so slowly out of your mouth again inale. Exhale,
let your body soften. Your mind must loosen its grip

(03:47):
on what you may perceive as ordinary. We always suggest
a few deep breaths before entering our fields. It helps
keep the farm calm as well. Yes, we realize that

(04:11):
may sound strange, but safety is such a fragile thing
out here. Don't you think The wagon groans beneath your weight,
and the driver, face hidden by a tattered hat, gives

(04:34):
a fight. Nod you heard the horse's move. The wheels
roll over gravel and soil, the rhythm steady, almost hypnotic.

(04:55):
You sway gently, a lulling sense of calm. The cold
air brushes your cheeks like the whisper of a memory.

(05:16):
You take another deep inhale, filling up your lungs with
the scent of hay, sweet, dry, tinged with something metallic,
something you can't quite name. Rows of corn stretch endlessly

(05:43):
on either side of you, the stalks black and shadowed
against the silver sky. The harvest moon hangs heavy, it's light,
gliding across the fields like liquid amber. Somewhere in the distance.

(06:08):
You think you hear from laughter, high pitched and fleeting,
as though children are running through the fields unseen. You
lean out slightly, squinting to search the horizon, but the

(06:32):
sound faiths seems to be swallowed by the steady thud
of hoofs and the creaking of the wagon. The driver
never turns, not once, not when you speak, not even

(06:58):
when you call softly. You realize that you can't remember
his face had you even looked. When you board it.
The road bends sharply, the horses they hesitate, their breath

(07:23):
thick and white in the air. You notice something lying
at the edge of the trail, a single pumpkin, cracked
open inside, something wet and moving. The wagon jolts forward again,

(07:48):
and you exhale, trying to convince yourself it was only light,
moonlight on water, or do thing more. The driver murmurs
something under his breath, words that sound old, maybe a prayer,

(08:16):
and then silence again. Ahead, a soft orange glow spreads
across the dark the pumpkin patch. The wagon halts. You

(08:36):
step down into the soil. It's damp, not with dew,
but something that clings to your boots. The patch stretches
as far as you can see, glittering with enormous pumpkins, round, swollen, breathing.

(09:11):
At first you think it's the wind, the way the
air ripples across their skins. But then you notice they're pulsing,
expanding and contracting, as though something beneath the surface is

(09:32):
trying to wake you. Crouch beside one of them. Its
rind is warm, too warm. You brush your fingers across it,
and feel a heartbeat, a soft rhythmic thump breathing beneath

(10:03):
your palms, and then.

Speaker 2 (10:10):
A whisper. Stay my heart.

Speaker 1 (10:16):
You jerk your hand back, heart racing. The whisper grows, multiplying,
rising from every direction. It's not a voice, it's not
one voice.

Speaker 2 (10:29):
It's dozens, a.

Speaker 1 (10:32):
Soft wire of murmurs, the redding through the air, The.

Speaker 2 (10:38):
Stays stay with the harvest.

Speaker 1 (10:42):
Day stadest. You turn in slow circles, the world around
you tilting on its axis, the pumpkin stems twisting, angling
towards you, as if listening. The driver is gone, the

(11:04):
wagon is gone. Only the patch remains, and the faint
trail of prints leading towards the corn. Not footprints, not animal,
or at least any animal that you know yet instinct

(11:26):
or something else entirely drives you understanding to follow the
corn maze. The corn looms high, taller than any you've seen,
thick and old. When you step inside, the air changes,

(11:56):
It's warmer, dense. The stalks shift as you pass, brushing
against your arms like the touch of fingertips, as if
responding to your energy. It's quiet to quiet. You've experienced

(12:29):
the quiet of wilderness before, but nothing like this. You
can't hear the night anymore. No wind, no crickets, no
bugs of any kind, only the soft rustle of the

(12:50):
maze itself, vibrating, no breathing around you. It's just a

(13:25):
simple stroll through the fields, nothing to feel. I'm sorry,
did I startle you? It is just me, your guide. Remember,
all you have to do is find your way out,
and then, of course you may leave the farm. Panic

(13:47):
fills your chest and your throat, trying to work up
the courage to ask what happens if you don't make
it out. Don't concern yourself with that, dear, Just move forward.
I'll be back should you need me. You have no

(14:12):
idea how your God knew what you were thinking, as
you never found the strength to muster the words. Just
as it feels like the silence is about to engulf you,
you hear a faint chuckle deep within the maze. You

(14:38):
quicken your pace. Each turn looks the same, each shadow
deeper than the last. You think to call for help,
and some sort of inhuman sound of absolute primal fear

(14:59):
escapes you mouth, But your voice feels muffled. It's as
though the air itself has thickened. All the sudden, you
feel the sensation that you are not alone. Somewhere behind you,

(15:27):
something moves. It's a gentle, dragging sound, like roots tearing
slowly from the earth. You run, but the maze seems

(15:54):
to shift, path closing new ones opening. You know the
corn is leaning towards you, now, whispering in languages you've
never heard. Little Then ahead, a soft orange glow the clearing.

(16:29):
You break through the final row and stumble into open space.
Your lungs ache, your pulse is loud in your ears.
It's the patch again, but different now. The pumpkins are bigger,

(16:53):
glowing from within, carved faces flickering in the dark, like
expressions of pain twisted into something more sinister. You take
a step closer, and the light sharpens. It's not candle light,

(17:21):
but something more organic, more alive. Each face, the details,
eyes wide, mouths curved into unnatural smiles.

Speaker 2 (17:44):
And then.

Speaker 1 (17:46):
You see it. One looks like you. You take a
few steps, leaning in. It's carved perfectly your hair, your lips,

(18:14):
the creases completely mirror the exact shape of your mouth,
and behind the carved eyes a faint flicker of movement.

(18:36):
Before you have the chance to think through what's happening,
a voice behind you breaks the silence. I'm confused by
that horrified look. My dear, you did sign up for
the harvest baggage. You turn slowly, facing your guide, the

(19:06):
lantern in hand, their smile too wide for comfort, and
to you, my lovely brings such a beautiful touch to
our pumpkin patch. The lantern light grows brighter, No, not brighter, closer.

(19:36):
The glow seeps from the ground itself, from the roots
beneath your feet. You look down. They're wrapping around your ankles,
soft and warm, like hands. You take a frantic breath in,
and all of the pumpkins around you do the same,

(19:59):
breathing in with you, and as you breathe out, there's
this roosh of sound and air escaping as the pumpkins sigh,
their carved mouths opening wide. The wind carries a low hum,
like a thousand voices exhaling in unison. Your body feels heavy.

(20:28):
The earth is pulling, and you let it because some
part of you understands now you've always belonged to the harvest.
You are the offering, You the seed, the story the

(20:56):
soil tells itself when it dreams. So breathe, dear one, Breathe.

Speaker 2 (21:06):
With the farm.

Speaker 1 (21:10):
Let the knight fold you into its roots until you
two are still. The harvest.

Speaker 2 (21:23):
Is completemding

Speaker 1 (22:07):
Bret to find in the