It is grey and often cold, though any temperature above 45 seems springlike.
Snow is in the futurecast and the days are so short.
I remember the spark of the Hallowe'en full moon and of the passing of our ancestors
at this past summer's end.
I know I had put out suppers every night for a month.
In this unbalanced time of ever increasing daily death tolls, fear and loathing, misguided anger and rage,
our gratitude and love and care is especially necessary.
All those humans now gone, like summer,
but never forgotten.
It is good that we can still gather together outside around a fire.
We have become accustomed to the distance.
I remember the fear of the impending election, like a collective holding of the breath,
Briefly exhaled at ritual, burning hate, letting go of anger,
as if that could be permanent.
Praying for good health and safety.
Each day finding ways to keep on, to push through into the unknown,
as if anything was ever known.
Our intimate spontaneous ritual on Hallowe'en,
just Bryan & I & the full Moon,
a much needed grounding after the first hard frost.
Just to be and to pray and to offer simple sacrifice
and love.
This current time of disassociated time
and space
makes then seem so long ago and also like a dream.
As if the time that was is the same as the time to be,
memory and reverie.
Since I am often writing this as the season ends,
I am often already ahead of myself
while attempting to look back.
We have been through more adjustments and re-calibrations than we would have liked,
but still moving forward.
Finishing anything whenever the weather allowed,
walking more, conscious breathing,
mindful news consumption,
appropriate boundaries,
drinking tea.
Over
whelmed
but still moving forward.
This apartness and isolation
settling or unsettling.
Making sure we have enough,
we will have enough,
we are enough.
As if we ever knew the future, as if there was ever anything more than now.
Rejoicing in each moment as best we can,
still moving forward
in this magnificent life spiral.
Notes and pics with notes from then:
10/31/20
a fire of all the sacred woods in a cauldron
dance
worlds
light
the fire here
lit with a receipt
fed with dead
echinacea stems
and dried seed heads and elecampane leaves
adding more sticks from the recently filled pile.
Elizabeth arrives, YAY!
Actual hugs, masked but full.
Katrina & Eric and Muji the dog
bring cocktails for all, Freedom Cocktails!
Banging on pot lids and making joyful noise.
Feasting together safely apart.
Ann and Wally the dog!
More feasting and talking,
joyfully free.
Then surprise arrivals, Nicci & Sophie!
hopefully gives peace to our ancestors and meaning to this life.
smokey fire
moldy cheese sought after by dogs for the outsiders
kind words for directions
beer for the Earth Mother
Mother of us all
everyone making gentle offerings
meat substitutes
much work to be done
but moving forward
once again
it seems.
Thanks to all the Ancestors
those we know and those we don't know.
Elizabeth's cat.
Out with what we no longer need.
Our Omens:
Clusters of runes in the different worlds,
Hagal, Sowelu, Dagaz, Isa, Berkanu, Laguz, Uruz.
There was a lot to it and it rang true,
though the words explaining the meanings are forgotten.
burning hate
Even more sacrifice, one more big fire, we can't offer enough
to those who have gone on before.
the new doors opening,
not slamming closed but gently released.
So much smoke, tears pouring.
Breathing.
Burning flowers, the last of the flowers.
So much gratitude
we would not be here without the work
of our Honored Dead.
salt and peppers
Banging on the well.
Good Feelings.
light the next fire
as night falls
old cured pork
as flaming log
in the dark
