as i type this, it is november first.

well, technically. it is twelve in the morning, after all.

i love this time. the in between. and so i sit in the darkness as time moves. but i don’t sit idle.
you see, according to the ancient Celts, Halloween or Samhain (pronounced sow-in) was the end and beginning of the new year.

it was the end of their harvest, the end of summer, and they now faced winter. the darkness.

some believe the Celts held this time sacred. a time where the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead thinned.

… don’t worry, i’m not going to delve into a history lesson (as i’ve done in the past because i LOVE this time of year and research is my jam). instead, i’d like to focus on something else. the meaning. the fire. i’d guess you’d say, the feel of this time of year. and how cathartic it has become for me, especially as i work and grow in therapy with my new therapist).

samhain is a time to sit still. to be. to acknowledge the darkness in us. to let go. let die. and grow anew. to honor. to remember.

change always begins inside us. high performance experts, spiritual gurus, therapists, and motivational speakers alike, often direct us to work with ourselves, not against. to tie the new changes we crave, need, and desire to rituals.
and in case you’re wondering – a ritual is any series of things you do in regular repetition in a very specific manner. think morning routine, night routine, they’re all rituals of a sort.
to tie a new change to a ritual and to fill oneself with new healthy somethings, is the only way to begin negating harmful somethings we wish to rid ourselves of.
samhain is the perfect time for this.
it’s certainly something i’m going to work on.

another aspect of samhain is darkness.
darkness isn’t often seen as safe. it is to me. always has been.
it’s where i found safety to look at the pains, hurts, things about myself i didn’t like, questions and doubts, fears, and uncertainties – without fear of overstimulation, begin judged, or feeling too raw or exposed.
i feel like we live very exposed lives these days. anyone can call us, text us, pop over to our home, expect our time, expect to see and know everything about our private life. almost like we owe them front row tickets to our soul…. not a fan. it gets hard to live, to grow, to introspect, to even connect with oneself when we don’t have any time to ourselves.
samhain is the perfect time to draw inward.

i sit and look back at my life. how did i get here? how has the past me grown me into who i currently am?
what have i accomplished, my successes, failures, new experiences, important memories, new relationships, new wisdom, what firsts have i experienced, how have i changed? how did my goals and plans turn out? what’s changed? what do i need to allow to die? what newness do i desire to bring in?

i absolutely love symbolism. (shocking, right? that a writer loves symbolism?) i think this year i’d like to look specifically into the questions, prodding’s, and lessons of the Death and Hanged Man tarot cards. maybe that’s what i’ll do tomorrow.

i’d like to sit in darkness and meditate.

to set some new healthy boundaries, intentions, goals, and healthy daily rituals.

samhain is a time to honor contrast. to celebrate it.
life and death
death and rebirth
old and new
ancestors and living love for them
darkness and hope

i’ve already begun something new. something beautifully personal but wonderfully mundane to honor and think about the relationships i had with my deceased loved ones. samhain is the perfect time to remember them.
to grieve them. after all, “where there is deep grief, there was great love”. i don’t know who wrote that quote but i’d like to reword it from ‘was’ to ‘is’. because there is no extinguishing love. it doesn’t go anywhere. it lives on forever. and no matter how cliche or trite that sounds, it is no less true.
its also a time to grieve what relationship i didn’t have with those who i could have.
a time to look at my current relationships with new perspective and vow not to take them for granted. tomorrow is never promised.

an ancestral altar is always a fun, creative, personal, and emotional way to physically do something about your love, grief, and deceased ancestors and friends.
i find physically doing something with my emotions is much healthier for me. i want something to do about what’s on fire inside me.
you can do it however you’d like. but it is simply bringing mementos of theirs that you keep out of love, photos, and warm memories. light a candle and allow yourself to feel. we don’t do that much anymore. its tremendously healthy.

and please, for the love of all that is holy, have fun.
be true to who you are.
spend time with yourself and spend time with your loved ones.
make choices for you.

halloween never dies.
it lives within you, within me, within all of us, always.
we are all made of duality. ebbing and flowing. changing. in light and darkness.