The last-minute preparations for Samhain were about finished – sachet for my pre ritual bath picked and mixed, tied up in a blue cloth; offerings for the Deities and the Ancestors arranged on a silver plate and stored in the fridge: feathers and silver coins, nuts and apples and flesh of pigs together; outside altar washed , stones gathered up from the circle ground – now I was chilling, listening to S J Tucker’s luminous Blessings on the CD player, trying to beat myself at FreeCell in a semi-hypnotic state, waiting only for sunset to start walking between the worlds again.
Since last night, when I performed an opening ceremony, I’ve been in such a liminal state that I’m not sure anymore which of the worlds I’m actually in at any given time.
Quite suddenly, I start to weep. I can feel my Beloved Dead all around me, and the sense of Love is strongly entwined with a yearning feeling of Loss.
I put my head down on the keyboard and the grief overtakes me. A storm of tears, now, great gulps of sorrow, regret, and tenderness sweeping me further down the great vortex I seem to have opened the way into.
And even as I’m crying so much that my lungs, my heart, ache – some part of me is standing apart, astonished, wondering how I ever learnt to let go like that, and realizing that this is definitely something that following a Pagan path has taught me – even though the learning has, like all my lessons, been slow in the absorption.
How to grieve.
How to give Holiness to the most painful of emotions.
How to make a Sacred Offering of my sorrow, and how valuable that offering is, both to all Other Worlds, and to myself.
“..may you raise your eyes and know with every step – we are not alone.” S J Tucker , Come To The Labyrinth
Pic: Pre-ritual Opening Altar, indoors.