A wondrous and blessed Samhain to you all!
Since I first learned of its existence, Samhain has been one of my favorite days of the year. Where I’ve always enjoyed Halloween, it was the deeper meaning below the surface that I have long preferred. A day to honor ancestors. A day for the veil to thin allowing us to connect more fully to that which lies beyond. And, in Celtic tradition in particular, the new beginning for the wheel of the year.
Now is the time to gather our harvest. Now is the time to reap what we’ve sown. Now is the time we let go of that which no longer serves us. Now is the time we heal from what has been holding us in the shadows. Now is the time to set intentions for what we aim to come. Now is the time we can speak into the aether and know that our voices will be heard. As we settle in for a season of rest and preparation, as we find days in which to celebrate ourselves and each other, we are in the prime space of that human construct of time to get ready and begin again.
Today, I spent the day at the most magnificent Columcille Megalith Park in Bangor, PA. A wonder of stones, grounds, and meditation modeled in the image of the isle of Iona. A sacred place. A healing place. A place where you walk hand in hand with the journey of your soul.
My husband joined me, as did 2 close friends of ours who we were introducing to the park for the first time. I showed them around, helped them get their bearings and know where they were headed. And then, as I do whenever I welcome someone to the park for the first time, I let them go off on their own. To take in the sights, to see where their journey leads them, and to let the hills tell them all that they need to know.
This also allows me time to do the same for myself.
It started with my husband and I walking, and speaking aloud our intentions for this new year. We paused on the stones outside of the chapel on the grounds, and spent a few quiet moments reflecting and speaking clearly what it was we hoped to achieve in the next year. We spoke of the dreams we are working toward, the plans we have in mind. The gifts and abundance we hope to receive.
And then we allowed each other the space to make our own journey.
As I traveled off on my own in the quiet of the woods, I knew exactly where my first stop would be.
The labyrinth.
Now, for those unfamiliar with this particular meditative space, allow me to explain. There is one way in. And one way out. The steady walking helps your mind relax into a meditative state, allowing thoughts to flow freely. Many outdoor labyrinths have gravel so that the sound may also lull you to peace. Today, for me, the presence of the crunch of fallen leaves helped that even further.
The idea is the journey inward is slow, it takes time. It mimics a journey inward to yourself. Your openness allows connections and guidance where we often tend to seal ourselves off. When you get to the center, if there is space for it, you may leave a small offering - a penny, a stone… something relevant to the journey you’re taking - in gratitude for making it through and for any answers you receive along the way. Typically, in my experience, by the time you reach the center, you find understanding and clarity about the circumstances that compelled you to enter the labyrinth in the first place. You can take time at the center, further work out the answers you received. And then, when you’re ready, you head back out. The journey outward always takes less time. You tend to walk faster, you are lighter, no longer weighed down by the burdens you carried on the way in.
Every time I have walked a labyrinth, I have received tremendous insight. Clarity I never could have found on my own. New ways of looking at an idea or a problem that now makes it seem like scarcely an issue at all.
Today was no exception.
I have recently been working to heal some past trauma. Events that I know I have still clung to. Events that are actively standing in the way of progress, goals, and dreams, that I am working to achieve. Their presence has been quiet, but constant. Barely noticeable most days. But recent events had shone a light on them and I knew they had to be addressed. So I sought out the council of a dear soul who has some particular expertise in this area. And together, we have been working on healing for the past week.
Upon some deep reflection - a 2 hour and 40 minute free writing session in my journal, which culminated in 9 handwritten pages of my life history - I found that where all the things I thought I needed to heal were in fact present, there were some incidents that I had not believed were relevant…. that turned out to be bigger offenders in my trauma than I had ever imagined. Since coming to that conclusion a few days ago, I have been working on healing it. Seeing it, validating it, putting it in the best light, taking the lessons from it that I need, and moving forward.
But I got stuck.
Healing work, shadow work, is not easy stuff. And we can often find ourselves with answers, but no direction. Knowing what we think we need to do, but paralyzed in actually taking the action we need to follow through. This is where I was for the last few days, and what led me, in a very direct and decisive walk, to the labyrinth.
In what seemed like no time at all, clarity shone on me like a beacon of light. I found my mind twisting what I knew in a new way and suddenly it all made sense. A tiny drop of understanding helped all the puzzle pieces click and that loss and pain I was feeling just… went away. Because what I thought had been the truth was actually not. I just hadn’t lifted the veil enough to see the entirety of what was hiding underneath it. As realization washed over me, I looked down. And a single bright red oak leaf was there at my feet. I didn’t see any other bright red oak leaves anywhere else in the labyrinth. So I knew it was for me. I left a small crystal in thanks, and picked up the leaf.
A little further and part 2 of my labyrinth motivation began to get less cloudy. A simple, “Oh,” and a relaxation of the tension in my shoulders confirmed and put my fears at ease. A soft voice inside my ear spoke and reminded me of a universal truth. I suddenly understood, and accepted, my own truth in response. And a moment later, I found myself at the center of the labyrinth.
As I reflected on what had been revealed to me, or maybe what I had remembered, I was overcome. Tears falling from my eyes in the cool autumn air confirming the emotional weight of what I had learned. It all suddenly made sense. I didn’t feel so heavy. I was no longer struggling to find answers or explanations to what I had experienced. I bent to my knees. And then sat there in front of the stone alter, quietly weeping tears of relief, tears of understanding, and dare I say it… tears of joy.
In the midst of my unfolding, another young woman appeared in the clearing. Seeing me there, she apologized. “Oh, I’m sorry! Am I disturbing you?” “Not at all,” I replied. She began walking toward the labyrinth. “Don’t mind me,” I added, tears still streaming down my face as I chuckled. “I’m just having a moment.” “Yeah, this place tends to do that for you,” she replied. “That it does,” I agreed.
She began walking into the labyrinth and I began walking out. Eventually, we met on the path. And she exclaimed, “Oh! We ended up meeting! How neat is that!” We smiled at each other. “Enjoy your journey,” I said. “Thanks. You too!” And we both continued to walk. Upon passing near each other one final time, she had asked me if I knew a friend of hers - one whose ashes were partially scattered on the grounds. The name sounded familiar, but I did not believe I had known them. She remarked on how things like this had been happening and she didn’t believe in coincidences. I don’t either. I think we each met the other in the way we were supposed to… We both continued on our way, silently leaving the other to their travels.
I had several other small events in my solo trek around the park. But rather than relate it note for note, I’d like to share what I learned today:
I learned that sometimes people just need to wander. Earlier, I had met a woman who looked a little lost. I asked if I could help her with anything, since I am pretty familiar with the park. Her response was, “Oh no. But thank you. I’m just wandering.” And we parted ways. She didn’t need guidance, at least not from me, and that was ok. She may have had no idea where she was in the park, but she didn’t need to. Her journey, however labyrinthine, would also take her to where she needed to be. And, oddly enough, despite the fact that she was only a few steps away from the park’s labyrinth, her feet did not take her there. I imagine it’s because she was already walking her own.
I learned a lesson in my own labyrinth as well in my interaction with the girl. Her presence, a stranger - witnessing me at a most vulnerable moment - reminded me that vulnerability is not weakness. It can bring people together. It can connect us. And my being vulnerable did not in any way make me something less. In fact, it linked us, for a time, in a way that neither was aware of and that we both clearly needed. Her concern for my needs as she entered also reminded me of how we can be on our own journey, but be aware of the journeys of others. Our pain and our paths are not an excuse to be unkind to one another.
I learned that sometimes if you feel that an answer is wrong, even though you have every reason to believe it, it’s because it is wrong. Maybe not in the obvious way, but you must trust yourself and your intuition. The truth will always be revealed.
I learned that sometimes the reason we struggle to be who we want to be is because, somehow, when we weren’t paying attention, we already had become that person. And our search, at that point, is no longer needed. We search in vain because we already attained what it was we were looking for. We already became what we’d hoped to become. Sometimes it happens quietly, but we will always recognize it eventually.
I learned that labels are for people who are so afraid of chaos that they must force order. People who are so afraid of individuality that they must organize others into neat little lines and cubbyholes. Often, society uses those lines and cubbyholes to enforce order or conformity. It can serve as a way to out others who do not so quietly fall in line. If you feel like you don’t fit, it’s simply because you don’t. And that’s good. It means you have more to offer the world than what the easily swayed can. That burning desire to fit in fuels powerfully wrong decisions. Mistreating people who mean the world to you. Agreeing to things you would otherwise deny. A label, if bestowed upon you, is not for you. It is for the person who is labeling you. Because they see a need to put you in a place. “Why fit in when you were born to stand out” is wildly true. Don’t hide your light, don’t try to fit. Just be uniquely you. Who knows, you just may help bring the other rebellious lemmings out from behind the bushes, and together, we will all forge a new path. The fact is, not all of us want to jump off the cliff. And we shouldn’t be forced to.
We don’t always need to declare who we are. We just need to BE who we are.
Love is a funny thing. It comes in many different varieties, many different forms, many different journeys, and with many different truths. Regardless of the type of relationship - friends, lovers, family - no two loves are alike. And you can hold a love for one while making a life with another. You can love all, but in different ways. You can hold a love for one, and know that it is best for you both to walk away. You can be grateful for one being in your life, but accept that that chapter is closed. You can hold a love for one, and know that they do not share that love in return. And that’s ok. Because love is love. And everyone needs it. In the best of relationships, that love is freely given AND received. And that is the foundation we build a life upon.
Trust. Even if the road is longer than you intended. Even if it takes you into darker corners of the woods than you intended to go. Even if you find yourself on an unfamiliar part of an otherwise familiar road. Keep going. And trust. The Universe will guide your way. It is always on your side. And it will lead you where you need to be. You may show up a few minutes late, but you’ll be so much more grateful for the journey.
Sometimes a gusty wind can be the very thing to clear the cobwebs from our mind… or to lead our churning waters to the shore.
And finally, lean into those that support you. Be they partners, friends, strangers, or gods. They will always have a space for you at their table, a place for you to rest your head, and a light to lead you home.
Wishing you all a beautiful and blessed new year.
💖🕯🕊
Labyrinth image by Ashley Batz via Unsplash