Samhain happenings
Nov. 1st, 2006 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chelidonA friend's father just had a sudden health crisis. My father-in-law is in for cancer surgery today as I write [edit: so far, so good]. Tomorrow morning I leave for New Orleans to marry two dear friends, and the groom's father died suddenly about a week ago. It's been a rough Samhain for dads, and their children. It's been a rough year in general around here, good, but hard, very hard, full of lessons and love, laughter and sorrow. I found myself very grateful for the passing of the old year, and the start of the new. Minus two of my loved and Lovely Housemates, off celebrating their 10th anniversary in New Orleans, and plus a welcome guest, we journeyed, divined, made offerings, gave thanks, remembered the past and visioned into the future. We sat in front of the hearth fire and spoke our truths. Then we extinguished all of the fires in the house, snuffed the candles, turned off all the electrical breakers, and I went up alone to the fire circle in the paddock and kindled the new fire for the new year. Sitting a while in silence, warming myself as I watched the fire turn old wood into bright sparks and coals, themselves soon to be gone, I noticed that the act of release can be such a great relief. And those back in the house discovered that the dark times of contemplation can be quite loud indeed, as all of the cats started running around in the dark knocking things over while chasing down a mouse, and the UPS (battery backups) in my office beeped periodically to remind everyone the power was out. Sometimes you have to take whatever contemplations life gives ya... Carrying the coals back into the house, we rekindled the hearth fire, relit the candles, turned the circuit breakers back on, and welcomed in the new year.
I find that I am slowly picking up a bit of what I think of as crone/sage wisdom, the kinds of things you learn as you outgrow the persistent illusion that there is an endless amount of time to live, and boundless energy with which to live that life. In this case, I look back and see myself off fighting "the good fight," in so many places, and so many ways. It's time to pick and choose my battles more carefully, and learn when to let go and leave otherwise worthy battles to others, or to nobody. What's mine to do, is mine to do, and what's not, is not. Simple. Not so much, really, but it's getting simpler every year.
I saw the headless horseman last night. No kidding. After a day of work, then taking my houseguest to see Quechee Gorge and the VINS nature center (raptors and ravens and other wonderful creatures of the air, along with some frogs), I headed out to the local country store to pick up some things for dinner, and on the way out, as the sky quickly darkened to black, I saw someone riding a white horse down the road towards me, into the drive that leads to the store. Riders are not unusual in my area, so I turned my headlights down so as not to blind or spook the horse and rider. As I passed the rider, I turned my head and the rider turned towards me, and I took in the big, heavy black cloak, and...gulp! No head! Yikes! He continued on his way, and I on mine (checking over my shoulder you can bet!). I assume the headless one was headed into town where all of the town kids were going up and down the main street, trick or treating. But then again, maybe not. Sure it is, the legends of headless horsemen are legion around here, and more than one of them are supposed to have their basis in fact. I couldn't help but wonder if one of the people in the store he was heading towards was named "Ichabod." ;>
I love how much enthusiasm people in New England put into Halloween. Almost every house that you can see from a road, and many you cannot, are festooned with pumpkins, ghosts, and all manner of creepy creature. The local Chamber of Commerce in my town sponsored a scarecrow-building session, and now the whole town has been invaded by clumps and clusters of weird little people everyplace you look, some provoking a giggle, others a nervous glance or two. The town of Keene, down the road an hour or so, has an enormous pumpkin festival yearly where they display and light literally tens of thousands of carved pumpkins, displayed along every street, and on four pyramids of scaffolding on the compass points in the town square, four or five stories tall(!) Back in Maryland, we were the crazy ones on the street, but here in New Hampshire, we don't even begin to rate. Next year, though, I'm planning to take my big scythe and black hooded robe and stake out one of the crossroads...
Happy New Year! If you are reading this, I wish you a year full of wonder and love, and thank you for the place you have in my life, whatever that is. Blessings, you are, one and all.
I find that I am slowly picking up a bit of what I think of as crone/sage wisdom, the kinds of things you learn as you outgrow the persistent illusion that there is an endless amount of time to live, and boundless energy with which to live that life. In this case, I look back and see myself off fighting "the good fight," in so many places, and so many ways. It's time to pick and choose my battles more carefully, and learn when to let go and leave otherwise worthy battles to others, or to nobody. What's mine to do, is mine to do, and what's not, is not. Simple. Not so much, really, but it's getting simpler every year.
I saw the headless horseman last night. No kidding. After a day of work, then taking my houseguest to see Quechee Gorge and the VINS nature center (raptors and ravens and other wonderful creatures of the air, along with some frogs), I headed out to the local country store to pick up some things for dinner, and on the way out, as the sky quickly darkened to black, I saw someone riding a white horse down the road towards me, into the drive that leads to the store. Riders are not unusual in my area, so I turned my headlights down so as not to blind or spook the horse and rider. As I passed the rider, I turned my head and the rider turned towards me, and I took in the big, heavy black cloak, and...gulp! No head! Yikes! He continued on his way, and I on mine (checking over my shoulder you can bet!). I assume the headless one was headed into town where all of the town kids were going up and down the main street, trick or treating. But then again, maybe not. Sure it is, the legends of headless horsemen are legion around here, and more than one of them are supposed to have their basis in fact. I couldn't help but wonder if one of the people in the store he was heading towards was named "Ichabod." ;>
I love how much enthusiasm people in New England put into Halloween. Almost every house that you can see from a road, and many you cannot, are festooned with pumpkins, ghosts, and all manner of creepy creature. The local Chamber of Commerce in my town sponsored a scarecrow-building session, and now the whole town has been invaded by clumps and clusters of weird little people everyplace you look, some provoking a giggle, others a nervous glance or two. The town of Keene, down the road an hour or so, has an enormous pumpkin festival yearly where they display and light literally tens of thousands of carved pumpkins, displayed along every street, and on four pyramids of scaffolding on the compass points in the town square, four or five stories tall(!) Back in Maryland, we were the crazy ones on the street, but here in New Hampshire, we don't even begin to rate. Next year, though, I'm planning to take my big scythe and black hooded robe and stake out one of the crossroads...
Happy New Year! If you are reading this, I wish you a year full of wonder and love, and thank you for the place you have in my life, whatever that is. Blessings, you are, one and all.
