I adore Halloween. I absolutely adore it. Those of you who know me, know me well, and know my witchcraft, may find this odd. Mostly because in the modern era Halloween is a bit of a joke and one run by candy companies nonetheless. But my enthusiasm for the holiday cannot be stopped. Nope, it certainly cannot.
I adore witchiness in all of it's kitschy glory. I gobble it up and imprint in my soul and on my skin. Because we witches must have a sense of humor about things. And if we cannot have a sense of humor about a holiday that is oddly, sadly, and sensibly ours, than what can we have humor about?? We must, and I do, embrace the hats, brooms, warts, and capes. I embrace my body which wears the hat; the air which floats the broom; the humor which necessarily embraces the wart; and the shoulders that bear the cape.
Traditionally this moment in the season marks the true beginning of the winter because it also marks the end of the harvest season. Collecting is over, digging in is on. The festivities which accompany the holiday celebrate not candy, not magic nor shenanigans but darkness- both in the form of the coming winter and shorter days and in the form of death- those who have died, those who have come before.
This day, for what it is worth, is a day of celebration of darkness- of evening, of oncoming, of passing. It is a celebration of the good which accompanies the difficult or bad. It is a celebration of livelihood even when times are thin.
It is the perfect night. The witching night. The night when I feel most at home in myself because there is no reason not to. I believe that I can embody this transition from light to dark; autumn to winter; life to death. I can embody and love all of these transitions. They are natural, they are beautiful, they are Halloween. My darlings, my friends and readers- Much love on this most auspicious of days. And until next time…
An it harm ye none- so mote it be.
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