The Season of Remembering

Late yesterday afternoon, close to dusk, after a very busy day of pouring candles and making winter herbal remedies, I made a cup of tea and walked out to my swing to try and regain some sense of the sacred.  The minute I entered the Grove I knew something was different.  It was an overwhelming feeling of different, as though the woods had completely changed from earlier in the morning.  It felt SO otherworldly – so thin and light.  I remember turning around looking at everything, trying to figure it out and, for a minute or two, I felt completely disoriented, confused, as though I’d stepped into a different place, a different time.  Then I knew.  I remembered.

They were here.  It was Samhain Eve, the Veil had thinned, and the Ancestors had come.  I sat down on my swing – I was a bit light-headed by this point – closed my eyes and just sat with this energy.  Breathing in.  Breathing out.  Then tears came, but not tears of fear, tears of gratitude and understanding.  Tears of profound awe of the deep presence of the numinous.   I was completely overwhelmed at the vast implication of it all and even more humbled by my place in this dance.

Today is Samhain.  In a bit I will go out to the Grove and place a vase of red carnations and blooming rosemary on our Ancestor altar.  Then I will build a fire in my cauldron and create the larger sacred container that will hold us on this day.  As I prepare favorite foods of my ancestors and those of my partner’s ancestors, the Samhain fire will burn.  Then tonight, a few friends will join us for a ritual honoring and blessing this sacred portal.

At the liminal point of dusk, we will gather around the Cauldron, building up the fire, and invite all the ancestors in – both human and those from our respective animal tribes – and we will tell stories, say prayers, laugh, cry, and we will feed them and thank them.  We will also honor the Dark Goddess of this season – the Crone – and remember those who died during the times of the European and American inquisitions.  We will then divine and later dream, leaving offerings for the fairies, devas, elementals and all the others that will walk this night.

The veil has thinned.  The Wheel has turned.  This is such an incredibly magical time and I am deeply honored to know the language of ritual and the ways of conversing with Nature and the Ancestors.

I am so very fortunate to walk this path of the Mystery made manifest… a path that is a portal to ancient lineages and deepening into the inner time… a path that brings me cycles and empowers me with rich and raw magical authenticity… a path that teaches me both old ways and new ways of being and knowing, living and doing.

On this day, I honor and I remember.

5 thoughts on “The Season of Remembering”

  1. Thank you for sharing the beautiful vision and ritual. I felt inspired to take a walk with Momma on the 31st through the woods around our home. I spoke out loud to her sharing so much that I wish I could’ve shared with her in the flesh. The tears came, yet as you described, they were also tears of gratitude, deep, deep gratitude for her loving presence and thanking her for teaching me to see the beauty in nature all around me. It was a beautiful walk. I leaned into a tree while watching the sun sparkling on the creek flowing by, enjoyed the vibrant leaves, and danced with my momma’s love. Blessings, Julia

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    1. Julia, thank you for the sweet image of you in the woods with your Momma. Working with the ancestors keeps me close to my Mother, gone now since 1979, and my father (12 years now) along with my grandparents, favorite aunt and uncle and, of course, my deep bone ancestors. It is one of the most rewarding rituals I know and, while we openly honor them at this time of the year, in truth they are around us every day. Blessings ❤

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  2. I have a swing, too. Beside and somewhat under the biggest, old-old dogwood I’ve ever seen. It is my special place for being with Spirit. My late husband build the swing for me and I always feel gratitude to him when I sit or swing there. Bright blessings to you, Ffiona.

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    1. Oh Sabra, I can just imagine your swing and the beautiful old dogwood… the energy of your beloved infused in every part. There’s something about swinging that transports me to a place I call “between the veils” allowing for the sweetest mystery of Spirit. Blessings ❤

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