It was a dark dark dark night, with strong winds but warm.
Very warm, beguilingly warm,strangely warm.
The new weird weather,
don't plan, don't guess, just be flexible.
These days we have had real cold but mostly not so,
warmish in the sun, warm for December,
but frosty and magical after the late dawn.
We wake in the dark and it is dark so early, so very dark,
even high beams don't seem to lighten the darkness.
Giving thanks for each day walking the earth.
Each day together quiet on the mountain
as the world and media go crazy with rage.
Stay strong, we are here for the long-term.
So then was very long ago, and I remember snippets only,
except for family and the joy of gathering together.
Well, it was after-work on a Friday
and pulling it together from there is effort enough,
and we didn't know really who was to show up,
many reply, many cancel
last minute,
others we didn't know could make it do.
It's all good.
We totally could not get anything to light
before people arrived
and the pizza I brought home got mostly devoured also
before people arrived
but it was Friday, which is the start of my weekend,
and it was all ok.
Setting up for ritual in the darkest of dark
with winds taking out our candles again and again
and sacrifice geared towards fire consumption
but adding in some liquids just in case.
I remembered the summer's peach puree
(which lingered on feet and pants legs and skirts ends)
but forgot the summer's last berries
(languishing near frozen in our over-chilled refrigerator).
We were barefoot for ritual.
BAREFOOT FOR SAMHAIN.
Massaging my heels during pre-rit,
standing on the not-cold
earth for meditation,
clutching rocks with my toes,
giddy with warmth at summer's end.
A few arrived and then some more and we shared
a fermented root beer like liqueurs in small special glasses.
All the food out, because why not,
and children always get to eat before ritual,
and we are all children,
children of our ancestors.
And while we waited for family who got lost,
women and girls gathered outside
with the candles and sweet popcorn,
talking among the generations.
And then she arrived, unexpected but hoped for
with a turtle for us to foster and tend to and love.
Giving home to more beings, sharing our home
with lots of folk,
getting lost in the art and artifacts of this house.
Gentle guidance towards pre-ritual rant and explanation,
although time was late and we were ready
there was much to be said,
about the holiday, about ritual practice,
about our selves.
And though some had to leave early,
everyone was listening intently to Bryan
sharing the wisdom of the season,
weather laying on the grass or sitting in chairs on the deck
or off to the side or squatting on the ground.
I remember that the ritual was very moving and powerful,
that days later i was still talking about and feeling it.
I remember that with no hesitation our sacred fire was lit
and magically stayed blazing and bright and was not blown out
nor made dangerous by the strong winds.
I remember that,as often happens, food multiplies
and suddenly there were many full plates and leftovers too.
I remember that we are here to love and from love.
And that even in the darkness a light can shine from within.
Our Omens:
from the Ancestors we have Ingwaz, an expansive growing seed
from the Spirits we have Perthro, the lottery cup, chance, luck
from the Gods and Goddesses we have Fehu, fee- could be cash could be cost
for the Season we have Gibor, giver and giving, proper sharing and partnership
Thanks giving, giving thanks!
