We awoke to snow on the pumpkins in the Hudson Valley.
When my six year-old ran outside, all bundled up in a motley collection of hand-me-down winter clothes, she visited every flower and plant she had made friends with over the spring and summer.
The marigolds are still shining under their white blanket, but the morning glories will never greet another day. You can almost hear the Montauk daisies’ teeth chattering from here and the milkweed is praying the monarch butterflies have migrated far, far south. I definitely missed my chance harvesting those last green tomatoes, and, unfortunately, those mandevilla will not be brought in to safely winter indoors
And then, the eleven year-old suited up in my parka and last year’s ski pants that almost still fit and proved she hadn’t outgrown the magic of winter in autumn. The sisters built a snow witch together. Afterwards, they slurped hot cocoa while they opened their laptops for another “school day” of distance learning.
Once they were settled in again and I was left with my coffee and a quiet moment, I watched a crow soar through the still swirling snow and settle on a branch to call out to the white Samhain sky. I’m left wondering if she was screaming at this cruel weather front or celebrating the surprise.
Unseasonable Magic During the Season of Magic
It’s the day before Halloween, the holiday we Americans crafted around the original Samhain traditions that Irish immigrants brought across the water.
Samhain marks the final harvest and it’s the time when the veils between the worlds are most thin. Those costumes we wear? Those pumpkins we carve? They were originally intended to ward off those not-so-benevolent spirits that might walk in the Celtic night. (Though the Irish carved turnips instead!)
Samhain is a night to prepare a feast for the ancestors and commune with our beloved dead. It is a night to gather round the fire, consult the oracles, and peer into the Great Unknown - the future and all that’s unseen in the here and now.
Halloween is also a night to gorge on sugar and booze and forget the spirit world completely as every superhero and Disney character walks the street and we all celebrate the stranglehold that corporate culture has upon our collective imagination.
Around here, we try to fit elements of both into the same night.
This blend, this paradox, these whispers of wonder and connection in the midst of the distraction, confusion, and chaos… It all seems the very essence of this year of disruption. And it reminds me of all the hope and possibility that is being born in the midst of the numbness and pain.
Samhain is a Time to Reflect on the Year that Was
Samhain also marks the end of Celtic year, and those of us who know that witchcraft isn’t just an October hobby consider November 1 to be our New Year’s Day. This is a time to look back to the last four seasons, including the periods of planting, growing, harvesting, and the fallow times, too.
Last winter, I was mourning all I had missed in my children’s lives. They were growing so fast and I had spent years telling them “Just give mama five more minutes to finish this paragraph!” I was trying to make peace with the passage of time, but regret kept sneaking in around the edges.
All it took was a global pandemic to solve that. All it took was a school system that never quite managed to open its doors this academic year. Suddenly, I’ve had all the time in the world to be with them. Magically, they get a chance to savor snowflakes on their tongues on the Friday morning before Halloween.
When I’m fully entrenched in November, back to the struggle that so many parents know -- trying to figure out how to get the work done, how to get back to the writing, how to tend to the scream in my own soul -- I’m going to try to come back to this particular morning.
I am going to remember that the sweetest fruit is that which you savor out of season. And I’m going to take off my pumpkin spice colored glasses, too.
In this house, we can pull piles of clothes out of the closet, play outside, and then strip down to start again. We have been healthy, and have the resources to remain that way. Too many are vulnerable to the changes in the weather, in the economy, in the political storm.
Samhain is a time to celebrate life, and it is a time to look into the shadows. It is a time to be with what’s real as well as the mystery.
As we step into this next season, into this new year, let’s try to remember that the story is constantly seeking to be rewritten and refined.
I am going to remember that I am an author, but also a reader and a character, too.
I am going to remember that old line, “we cannot direct the winds, but we can adjust the sails.” This, after all, is one more way to define Sovereignty. (Though, I just realized, I never did use that line in the book.)
What about you? What do you see when you look back on the last four seasons? There’s surely a great deal of magic hiding in the midst of all that disruption, madness, and pain...
PS: Don’t forget that one of the important American stories is being written right this moment. Please vote and encourage everyone you know to get to the polls!
Do you want to tell new stories in this new year? Do you need the time, space, and support to get the writing done? We’re welcoming new members to the Sovereign Writers Circle now. Apply to join us!
