I've had the unusual blessing of being able to witness various traditions when it comes to this time of year. October is generally Harvest Moon, Wolf Moon, and the time is marked as the time when the 'veil between the worlds is the thinnest'.
I lost two people I loved about a year and a half ago, and I have always been an individual that prefers to deal with my own personal griefs in private. So recently, this has become a very strong, personal thing for me.
The Sumerians introduced me to Eereshkigal and Nergal, and the festival of Nattig. Following the descent of Inanna was perhaps the first time I was ever able to really begin come to grips and understand death. As the demons followed us in the darkness of the unknown(demons are neither good nor bad, they are spirits, unhuman creatures in Sumerian mythology), unseen and untouched, only heard. It was an amazing experience.
The sum of the experiences for me of this 'end of the growing year', the time of the Dead, is learning the understanding that Death comes for us all, Death is no respector of persons, and whatever our struggles and challenges, it is all part of our natural course. We should not have to fear death, we should have a healthy respect of it. Death touches every aspect of our lives, and most of the time, we only see it when someone passes in such a way as they go to the grave. There are a million deaths which touch us, that most do not consider. The death of a way of life, the destruction of an idea, even the passing of a friendship. We must take a moment to consider these deaths, mourn the passings in our own way, and then rebuild our lives and move on.
I've had a lot to mourn over the past few years. I have had some very radical job changes, moved across the state, lost relationships, friendships that I had believed were steadfast, and dealt with the deaths of my siblings. It's been a lot, and there are times that I have felt apathetic, and other times where I was so crazy-feeling that I lashed out at those close to me. I hope that I have repaired things where I could, and where I couldn't, well, I hope the best for those I parted company with. Maybe the death of one thing will lead to the birth of something new, or the rebirth of something old.
So as the cold of winter creeps across the land, laying waste to the green things....as the wild Hunt roams the darkness, know that in the deepest of the cold, the deepest winter...that somewhere in the darkness, is the spark of hope. The tiny light. The promise of the return of the sun. The promise of life, even after death.
The sum of the experiences for me of this 'end of the growing year', the time of the Dead, is learning the understanding that Death comes for us all, Death is no respector of persons, and whatever our struggles and challenges, it is all part of our natural course. We should not have to fear death, we should have a healthy respect of it. Death touches every aspect of our lives, and most of the time, we only see it when someone passes in such a way as they go to the grave. There are a million deaths which touch us, that most do not consider. The death of a way of life, the destruction of an idea, even the passing of a friendship. We must take a moment to consider these deaths, mourn the passings in our own way, and then rebuild our lives and move on.
I've had a lot to mourn over the past few years. I have had some very radical job changes, moved across the state, lost relationships, friendships that I had believed were steadfast, and dealt with the deaths of my siblings. It's been a lot, and there are times that I have felt apathetic, and other times where I was so crazy-feeling that I lashed out at those close to me. I hope that I have repaired things where I could, and where I couldn't, well, I hope the best for those I parted company with. Maybe the death of one thing will lead to the birth of something new, or the rebirth of something old.
So as the cold of winter creeps across the land, laying waste to the green things....as the wild Hunt roams the darkness, know that in the deepest of the cold, the deepest winter...that somewhere in the darkness, is the spark of hope. The tiny light. The promise of the return of the sun. The promise of life, even after death.
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