The middle of autumn, between the Autumn Equinox and the Winter Solstice, marks the beginning of the Celtic New Year. For the Celts, "timekeeping" was based on the seasons and reflected what was happening in nature. Humans were not considered separate from, but an integral part of nature. So -- naturally -- what was happening outside was also happening inside.
"As without, so within."
The Celts recognized that life cycles begin in darkness, in the ground, in the womb, in the deep Feminine. But before the new seed could be planted, it had to be shaken from the tree, dropped from the flower, separated from the fruit. New life could not begin until the old had been ushered out. First, there was decay, disruption, death, and destruction to clear the way for fresh starts. The Celts knew that before new life could begin, there had to be a void, or cleared space, that gave life room to grow.
Celebrated around October 31, Samhain (pronounced sow-en) is the Celtic cross-quarter holiday honoring the threshold of winter, or the dark half of the year. This dark time of year is known as Giamos and lasts until Bealtaine (beginning of May). Bealtaine marks the doorway into summer, or the light half of the year (Samos), which lasts until Samhain.
At Samhain, Mama Nature turns inward. Trees release their leaves, animals grow thicker coats or begin to hibernate, and the weakened sun (representing the divine Masculine energy) descends in the sky. While they might have preferred one season over another, the Celts didn't judge the light half of the year as "better" than the dark half. They understood the rhythm and necessity of Nature's cycles and revered and respected them.
We have largely moved away from this understanding in our modern culture. Most of us like to live in the sunny, action-packed, and abundant late spring/summer/early autumn - thank you very much. We grouse and grumble when the days become shorter and darker and the weather wilder and wetter. We want to cling to the old (patterns, beliefs, relationships) instead of letting go or clearing away that which no longer serves us. That's perfectly understandable when we live in a culture that views people as separate from nature, and doesn't value pausing or resting or endings. It's understandable (inevitable?) when "the void" also means emptiness and loss -- resulting in difficult feelings that we are ill-equipped to manage well emotionally.
"Into every life some rain must fall."
Yet Samhain comes to all of us, whether it's in autumn or a different time of year. Samhain times in our lives occur when there is death, disruption, or loss -- times that are accompanied by grief, sadness, confusion, or despair. We all want to avoid these times of extreme discomfort. But that doesn't stop them from happening. So how do we cope? How do we honor this natural, but challenging, part of our lives?
Samhain invites us to experience and embody the energies of descent. We need periods of rest, quiet, alone time, hibernation, and renewal. It is a time to examine what needs to be shed. It is a time to "enter the void", to surrender to the not knowing. It is a time to slooooooow down, including being slow to take action. This part of the cycle is necessary for the renewal of our energies and for preparing for the next chapter or phase of life.
I recently came across this article about a social psychology researcher who spent 10 years studying how winter affects people who live north of the Arctic Circle (i.e., where the sun disappears for two months of the year!). As with most things in life, our most healthy ways to manage/cope/adapt lie with our attitude, or how we choose to view our circumstances.
What stories are we telling ourselves, especially in the dark?
Written October 2024.