Enter the dark half…

Each evening we walk.

Kicking the wet leaves with our boots as we wander through our ancient woods. Trees and bushes either side of us wave their glorious attention seeking branches in a mass of red, orange, green and brown.

A last flamboyant act of joy before the sleep of winter takes hold.

For me, this time of year has a permissive air … the business and neediness of the summer months has past and now I can rest, be lazy, choose pyjamas over evening beach swims and read a book instead of  feeling the pressure to ‘make the most’ of the sunshine …

A very British thing I suspect.

Now I choose quiet, reflective restorative calm.

Hot chocolate and spicy stews, porridge with honey and jacket potatoes with chilli… soul food, heart food.

This week we celebrate Samhain, traditionally the end of harvest and a time to  honour and remember our ancestors. When the veil between this world and the underworld is said to be at its thinnest and our thoughts, love, offerings and thanks to the generations who paved the way for us to be here right now can be sent with ease.

Our traditions begin with gathering of beautiful wild hearts under a clear star filled sky in the heart of Dorset.

An ancient landscape with wide, open, hare strewn fields and moonlit pockets of woodland. Buzzards sit hunched on fence posts, eyes half closed but ever watchful and owls swoop silently from the tree tops to hunt invisible prey … hearing the tiniest footstep or noticing the imperceptible glint of a moon reflected in the black eye of a field mouse.

The fire is alive and fierce in the centre of the roundhouse, smoke rising through the star studded hole in the roof as the moon watches us gather.

The drums begin to sound out their primal beat.

Calling us.

Reminding us of who we are and have always been.

Drawing our attention away from our modern, distracting technology to a time before.

Before.

Before then even.

To when our distant ancestors met around a fire, just like this.

More drums join the first …

A heartbeat.

A community.

Together in unison to honour the season, the dead and to welcome the dark half of the year.

We sit, huddled in smoke infused shawls and blankets, our feet and hearts joining in with the pulse of the instruments as the beat grows louder still.

Acknowledging ritual is new to me.

I think I have always performed the rituals themselves in my own ways, at certain times of the year or day… an offering left at the base of a tree or a note given to the fire for the smoke to take to the sky… but intuitively, without necessarily realising that what I was doing was sharing gratitude or reaching out to ancestors.

It feels good to share ritual. To be surrounded by like minded Earth souls who feel a pull to the old ways.

A nostalgia?

Maybe.

But also a need to simplify, slow and reconnect with the natural world, the planet and the magic that flows through everything.

A heart moment for me at this gathering  was when we burnt food, notes and photographs to honour our ancestors. Making space for a moment to remember, to really consider the people who have gone before. The sheer quantity of souls who have lived their lives, fought their fears, battled, toiled, laughed and loved so that we could exist today.

The incredible thought that, for thousands of years, with every life lived, and every child born came hopes and dreams, love and intention.

Centuries of people, just like you and me who were born, lived their lives, passed their hopes, fears, dreams and genes to their children and then died. Generation after generation.

Every decision that was made ultimately led to me sitting here right now with my cat curled up next to me writing this.

All those lives. All that wisdom. All the inherited memories… passed through unconsciously.

As introvert as I can be … (give me a library over a party any day!) I love the feeling that we are connected to so many past hearts, from all over the world.

And, with so many people becoming interested in taking DNA tests to find their ancestry… it seems I’m not alone in this.

Right?

We are seeking connection.

An unconscious pull to belong.

To know who went before and where they were. To acknowledge them and through that, know oneself better too.

Remembering my ancestors makes me feel grounded. It reminds me that our experiences today have, in some form or other, all happened before.

People have been experiencing the same political, social, emotional upheavals as long as there have been people. We are just experiencing our version today, and for me, there’s a comfort in that.

That ‘this too shall pass’.

We walk through the trees each evening, pausing for a moment as we always do by the huge oak that stands at a footpath crossroads in the woods… somehow the crossroads always seems significant…

We gaze up into her branches, her leaves are turning and her enormous trunk makes me wonder what stories could she tell us? What has she seen as she stands here, deep in the woods? Who has passed by? What did they look like? Where were they going?

Hundred of years of ancestors living their lives wandering past our grand old matriarch.

She’s seen it all I reckon ..

So maybe, this Samhain / Halloween, light a fire or candle and send a sweet hello and thank you to all who have gone before. Leave some Turkish delight on a grave or just take a moment to breathe, connect and acknowledge.

We are ALL here because of them.

Happy Samhain … Happy Halloween 🎃

Huge Thanks to the beautiful Ellie From @earthkinevents for hosting a magical Samhain Celebration xxx

Find our more : www.earthkinevents.co.uk