The Dark
The fall is really here. Encouraged by gusty winds, rain sweeps against the windows of SunnyBank Centre. The sun has set this afternoon at 5.02 PM and at 6.15 PM, I closed the curtains of the living room. I feel bereft of summer.
The Dark of the Fall is upon us, only temporarily lifted by the Somerset Carnival that will take place in a few weeks time. Communities, sports clubs and individuals here in the South West, have been working for a year on magnificent floats depicting scenes from history, politics, fairy tales and whatever more anyone might like to express in colour and light. This spectacle draws hundreds of thousands of people to this area and the dreariness of mid-November vanishes for a few days.
Sig and I are traveling to the States this November, visiting our family in Vermont and Denver and we teach and do readings in Vermont and upstate New York. We are away for the whole month. We will not only miss the carnival, but we also miss some Samhain celebrations here in Glastonbury. I guess I can celebrate Samhain flying over the Atlantic Ocean, but somehow that takes away of the earthiness I like so much of this festival.
Samhain is the old feast of rest, of quiet and introspection. We humans are invited this time of year, when our curtains are drawn, our gardens are winter-ready, our spring bulbs have been planted, to plant a seed of new ideas in our hearts. When spring is springing in four months time and light has returned, this seed has germinated in the dark and seeks its way out into the open. It is time then, to act upon those sheltered dreams and show them to the outside world.
From time immemorial, this time of year is also the time where the veil between our world and the other world is thin. It is easier to make contact with the world of Spirit. In some cultures in warmer climates, it is the custom to have a nightly family party on the graves of the Ancestors; picnics are held in cemeteries, candles are lit on the tombstones.
To my surprise I heard from my friend in The Netherlands that the cemetery where her parents and mine are buried (quite close together, we like that) open the gates in the evening of the first of November, so families can celebrate their Ancestors with placing food and light on their graves and have the opportunity to be together for a few hours at the time when the veil is thinnest.
I have no family buried on this island; I do have dear friends that have been laid to rest in “This Holiest Earthâ€Â. If the cemetery in Glastonbury would open its gates for one evening in the year, I would pay my respects to my friends there. I would bring food and light and flowers on the dark evening of All Hallows Eve, and be outside in the cold and thin evening air and celebrate our lives.
- Karin Schluter Lonegren
Tags: All Hallows Eve, readings, Samhain, Somerset Carnaval, SunnyBank Centre, workshops
October 21st, 2009 at 9:54 am
Dear Karin,
What a lovely idea. Methinks that we will have to come along way before any cemetaries in London would open on the evening of All Hallows:-)
Love and light, Yvettex
October 21st, 2009 at 11:44 am
I always leave a bit of my parents’ favourite foods out for them on Samhain…. a glass of wine, a bowl of cashew nuts. As I lay them out, I am sharing memories as well as food.
October 21st, 2009 at 12:43 pm
What a lovely thing to do for us, who are not close to the physical burial place.