One of the things I love most about the traditions of our faith is their healing, therapeutic effect on the human psyche. During the years of my own spiritual seeking, I always asked myself two questions when evaluating a tradition or practice:
1. How does this make me feel? If I am inexplicably drawn to it, if it sounds my inner bell of "rightness", it's probably a good addition to my spiritual toolbox.
2. Does it work for me? If I feel the alleged benefits or other positive effect, it's probably a good addition to my spiritual toolbox.
Samhain is a time to honor and communicate with our beloved dead. It is the third harvest, the harvest of souls. In many cultures and time periods (including today, in some areas), it was the time of the animal harvest. Livestock were slaughtered to get us through the long, dark days of winter. This also provided enough resources for the rest of the animals to survive the winter as well.
The practice of actively engaging with our ancestors, allies and other dearly departed is a deeply therapeutic one. Culture in the US does not lean this way, overall. In general, death is something to be avoided, distanced from, sanitized and commercially packaged…like everything else. What this leads to is often less effective grieving and delayed healing for the survivors.
I would know. In my short life, I have lost an entire immediate family, plus a lover and many close friends. When my family passed, I inherited the family antiques. For a time, I set up my home with these items and with family portraits. It was too much. I felt I was living in a mausoleum. I sold most of the antiques and put the portraits away.
For years, years in which I did not always formally celebrate the Sabbats, I simply couldn't bear my losses. I unconsciously avoided the ancestral aspect of Samhain. I shut down my emotions on many levels. I didn't speak to my beloved dead or engage with them in any way. It was too painful. Holidays became excruciating. Movies and shows portraying happy families were brutal. It was all just too much.
I made a few attempts, here and there, but it just didn't take.
Fast forward to today. I have built a family of my own. I have been practicing with a coven for several years. I'm an active part of the local Pagan community. This year, I met a medicine woman who does ancestral work. I began to actively engage with my dead. I maintained a table of light. I set up an ancestor altar.
Last night I went and celebrated Samhain with the lovely folks of
Church of the Earth. We did very little formal ritual and a whole lot of silent communion with our dead. We had a wonderful Dumb Supper out in a grove. Tables were widely scattered through the clearing, beautifully set with china and crystal for our ancestors. The sounds of classical cello drifted through the crisp night air. When not dining, we quietly sat around a crackling fire pit.
Afterwards, I noticed something big. I didn't cry. I felt emotional, but not dysfunctional. I slowly realized that I'm no longer crushed by grief. Sure, I will always miss these people who are so dear to me. There are times when it is poignant and intense. But last night, at the supper, I caught them up on my news. I told them about the joy and love that is now in my life. About the hard work of building my career and my coven.
This morning I woke up and felt calm. Through my morning Yoga practice, I began to realize that this is what healing feels like. My family and close friends will always be a part of me, and their loss has helped to define who I am as a person. But it's ok. It really is. I can now smile and tell their stories without dissolving into a weeping mass.
So for me, the tradition of Samhain passes the test. It makes me feel good, and it works.
A blessed Samhain to all. May you too be healed by its cleansing power.