My Samhain Tradition
I apologize for the tardiness of my blog. I thought I would be able to finish it up before I headed to Connecticut this weekend to officiate my cousin’s wedding, but that didn’t quite work out. So, I’m back to the green mountains, in one piece.
A few interesting things from the weekend:
Ritual to help with stage fright is a fantastic tool. Even if it’s a little ritual. It can help give you a little boost in confidence.
Doing ritual in a strange place (such as your cousin’s bathroom post shower) is an interesting experience. I normally do my work in one room in my house, or outside, and I don’t notice much change in the space. When I did it in a space that has most likely never experienced that kind of work, the change was very noticeable.
Once you get over the fear of talking in front of a whole bunch of people, and the worry that you will mess it all up, officiating is a wonderful experience.
Finally, always do a pre-ceremony mic check.
I was going to go into more magic theory, but, in light of Halloween (or, as those crazy pagans like to refer to it as, Samhain) being tomorrow, I thought that I would talk a little about my tradition that I’ve done on Halloween for a number of years now.
Halloween may be one of my favorite holidays. I love the adrenaline rush of being scared in haunted houses. I love scaring people (safely!) with pranks. I love the creepy and weird. I love costumes and masks, how they are tools to step out of our own skin into someone or something else’s. I love how a largely celebrated holiday actually corresponds with one of the eight sacred holidays that I celebrate.
I don’t remember if my personal tradition started before or after I began my rambling Druid training, in which I am to commemorate each of the sacred holidays that I celebrate with some sort of ceremony. I do remember the thought process that brought me to my actions.
I was thinking about the origins of the tradition of the Jack O’Lantern.
The tradition of creating Jack O’Lanterns officially started in Ireland, a few centuries back. At that time, the preferred harvest veggie for carving out a face was a turnip. The purpose was to keep rogue spirits and unwanted shades from wandering to close to your house. If you want the longer version of the history of the Jack O’Lantern, the History Channel put out a little article about the story of Stingy Jack and the Jack O’Lantern (though I have a sneaking suspicion the tradition might be older than the story).
The story of the jack O’Lantern as a protective device struck a chord with me, so I took one of the pumpkins I grew, and started carving. After finishing my rather “handsome” fellow, and waiting for nightfall, I put in a candle, lit it, and began the trek up my road.
I know I have mentioned before that I live in the middle of nowhere. This is not an exaggeration. When I give directions to my house, the line “you’ll think you’ve gone too far, but don’t worry, you haven’t” finds its way in there. I live on a dirt road off a dirt road, in the middle of the woods. So, walking up the road, through the woods, with only the light of a Jack O’Lantern to illuminate your way can be unnerving. It’s not so bad when you’re close to full moon, but there have been some Halloweens where there was no light besides that candle. Watching it’s orange light dance across bare branches of deciduous trees and the drooping limbs of the spruces that line the edge of the woods does not help calm an overactive imagination.
Eventually, after about a half a mile, I come to the top of my road. Besides the top of the road is an old, small cemetery. I walk up to an exposed rock in front of the cemetery, and place my Jack O’Lantern. His job is to protect my road from any unsavory spirits out to create mischief on the night it is said the veil between the living and dead is the thinnest. Now, whether ghosts are closer to the world of the living at the end of October or not, I’m not sure. It does seem as good as time as any to honor ancestors, and those who have passed before us, especially with winter, a time of death and cold, just around the corner.
This brings me to the second part of my Halloween tradition. A drink with the dead. There are only about 20 graves in this cemetery, and I walk to each and make an offering of a drink to them. Usually a good beer. I then take a moment to remember people who were close to me who had passed. I make an offering of a drink for each name. I then make an offering to the spirits of the place, and the elements. I drink a few sips myself.
I don’t know exactly why an alcoholic drink feels the most correct to me in this situation. I often use tobacco and herbs as an offering in ceremony. Maybe it’s the informality of it. Maybe sharing drinks is something that has a lot of meaning in comradery, and just being generally alive. Maybe pouring good beer onto the ground is a serious sacrifice to me. It just made sense at the time, and still does.
It’s a very informal tradition. There are no symbols drawn, no tools besides a carved pumpkin and some beer. It’s a powerful thing for me, though. The artistic aspect of the Jack O’Lantern. The bravery it takes to walk up a dark road in the middle of the woods. The informal time with the dead, almost as if they never left. The honoring of their memory.
I didn’t grow any pumpkins this year, so I have to use the winter squash I grew, or buy a pumpkin tomorrow. Wish me luck on the carving and the walk. The ghosts and the drinks… that’s a little easier, though a little more emotional.
Happy Halloween. Merry Samhain.
-The Green Mountain Mage