Samhain

On Samhain night, we honor what is lost, we touch grief and memory together, and we settle in for the dark winter of rest and contemplation.

The last year has been one long and exquisitely difficult arc of grief for so many of us.  We're mourning lost moments, lost connections, and lost loved ones, all scattered before the wind of a history none of us would have chosen to live.

Our lives and our communities have changed, and some of the change is good.  Not all changes are bad or hard, and in times when everything is uncertain it can be hard to hold to the joyful transitions amidst the flood of upheaval.  I thought long and hard tonight about what to honor as this year draws to a close, and I'm choosing to honor and release the parts of myself that my own recent history has destroyed, or simply made vestigial; in so choosing I'm clearing the deadfall to make way for who I'm becoming.

I release the part of me that desperately wanted your acceptance and approval, who wanted so much to be part of an inner circle that I never stopped to ask whether you were worthy of my respect.

I release the part of me that needed to be liked more than I needed to be understood.

I release the part of me that allowed others to define their priorities as my own.

I release the part of me deliberately made palatable lest those with small capacity find it too complex, or choke on what I have to offer.

I release the part of me that waited, anxious, to be invited to the place I deserved to stand.

I release the part of me that believed I ever had anything to prove.

Here I stand within my circle, cloaked and hooded and ready to take my place.

I cast back the hood of self-doubt, so that my crown of self-awareness may be seen, gleaming above clear eyes.

I step out of the boots I wear, surrendering structure to stand grounded upon bare earth.

I peel away my gloves, so that all I touch now touches me, and we change each other.

I release the clasp at my throat, made up of the will and wants of others laid over my own needs and priorities.

Freed, the heavy cloak of expectations slides from my shoulders and pools around my bare feet.

And so I am ready to step forward, in a radiant gown woven of my own dreams, adorned with my love for friends and family and my chosen service to the larger world, and stand at the center of my circle shining dark and brilliant both.

I have been a queen of winter longer than I have acknowledged it; the dark of the year is mine to carry and to walk.  In the long contemplations of the year just past, I have embraced my role in the liminal space, holding just inside the darkness to show the way, walking the paths of grief as a guide but not softening the pain.  It's not mine to ease; my work is to show you that you can be the person who is strong enough to carry your pain, not to shoulder the burden for you when you think it's too much.  This makes me harder to know, sometimes, than I could be, and it's in those times that I need to remember what I chose to release to reach the center of the circle, and why.  It's also worth reminding myself that those who belong in my circle will always find a way there, and that what I would need to give up to BE easy to know is too important to lose.

I love you all.