As Samhain draws near--- the muggle's call it Halloween and as my lineage would have it; All Hallows eve. As it approaches, I am drawn to the pathways my ancestors travelled to get me here, in this moment. There wasn't a choice missed, in order to bring me here today. The way I've come to believe life to be in this moment-- which is always subject to evolution and change, is that; whatever is meant to happen, always will happen. That maybe there are these signposts along the way that are meant to mark and shape the direction and course of our lives that are ultimately meant to bring about certain events and experiences to be held while here.
Maybe upon human incarnation, we do choose what we want to experience here. One cannot be certain, nor am I willing to attach myself to one idea or concept, thus shrinking my experience down to only the idea that I have temporarily beheld.
I think about the poor examples and lack of guidance I'd had up until this point, the stories I missed out on, to sit at the side of my Gran and ask her all the things that stir in my heart now, shame I'd hadn't have known to, then... I know that she and the many others flow through my very veins now, just as I sit. They are as alive with me now, their experiences; wisdom, choices, dreams and desires-- it's all here with me. How much different life was then compared to now, the culture; the mentality, the ways of life, what it was that steered your choices, how you viewed daily life and the cessation of life here on earth.
I'd always seen the beauty in the darker months of the year, the mystical, more mysterious side of the 'Ber months. As I've had no one to ask anymore, what it was, what life was like, I seek out the wisdom that resides within me. Between how much salt to add to a traditional Irish recipe I've never made before, to knowing how to listen to and honor my body the way that my great grandmother's mother would have, I listen to the wisdom within me now.
Oh, I'd have loved to sit at the feet in one of those old dirt floored kitchens, the hearth alight, foreign smells swirling about and an ease of wisdom as they worked their way around the common area, getting ready for the coming cold season. Seasoning this and that, salting and drying, preserving another... darning socks and knitting new jumpers and woolens to stay warm. The smell of turf and fresh baked brown bread and likely the last taste of the blackberry jam we made at Lughnasadh smeared across it, just to sweeten it up a bit.
Sit with me and enjoy the lightness of heart for a moment, as they move about the kitchen with laughter and joy, sharing stories and wisdom that one couldn't possibly find anywhere but here. This was where bonds were woven together, this was where hearts were opened wide, like unfolded hands, this was where we came to know and see ourselves within the eyes of another. This was family. This is all I have now. I have no mother, nor sister's, nor a Gran. But I have all those who have come before me, within me and I cherish them oh so deeply, as they are all that I have now. They are my family and I, theirs. I am the light bearer of a prayer one or many of them prayed so very long ago.
I hold within me all the pathways, each one took within their own travels here, their incarnation. And when other's meet me, they meet them too. We each bear this most blessed privilege but how many see beyond their own noses? Look at the word privilege again. It nearly spells village, privilege isn't our buying power or what we own, privilege is the contents of our hearts. It's what it took to get us here, it's who it took to get us here. I think about the hardships my ancestors endured to get me here. Their hard ships looked vastly different from mine now but they were likely much more eminent and dire than mine.
I think fondly of them, more frequently now, as the earth calls me back into her belly, her womb for the colder months ahead, so I too can slow down with them, as they did. I can press my cheek against the heartbeat of the earth and allow it to nourish me the way they did. I'll tend to eating a bit less through the winter months, minding my inactivity, resting more, tending to the little things, maybe making myself come new clothing for the coming spring. It is a time of being blanketed in by the snow and the blustery cold outside, pulling in your little ones closer to your chest and holding them more tightly. Its lingering a little longer at their bedside because you've nothing to rush off to... It is a time to honor the slowness of life, the plodding pace, the long journey back to the dewdrops come February when Brigid stokes the hearth fires once more, the fires of our hope and heart reawakens, as maybe small patches of green are seen upon the ground-- a bit of a farce in some regions of the planet in February.
Oh, what a blessing this time of year can be, could be--- if only we'd return to it. You can. Truly you can. Unplug, disconnect--- part ways with anything that doesn't feel like love; like peace, that isn't in support of your health or your family's flourishing and peaceful evolution. You owe it nothing. But you owe yourself and them, those who came before you and mostly you owe those who will come after you, the solid foundation of a bright future. My immediate relation, spare my father, grandmother and grandfather, left me nothing. So, I search the wisdom within me, that I know lives in me. Their whispers, their stories, the clues they are all too eager to pass along to me, who is willing to honor it. So, I will listen to their guidance, their wisdom that is ever alive within me. It moves me about my day, guides my hands and my heart as I tend to this modern life, with the heart of the ancients beating in my chest. Dear gods, lead my feet back to where my spirit belongs, it has been far too long since my soul has danced in the salty sea air and heard the native tongue of my ancestors. The wisdom that was etched in the lines of their delicate gaze, is etched deeply into my heart and the crevasses and breaks within the palms of my hands. xx
--- more of the old soon to be shared.
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