Me Scurvy
Crew: Plunder my treasures: |
Samhain Article Here is the personal piece I wrote for the MPN Newsletter, Samhain edition: Autumn. As humidity subtly creeps from the night air, as the slight breezes whip up just a little more, day after day, I am reminded that the time of releasing is upon us. Everywhere, things are releasing in subtle manners here in Mississippi. As I type, I feel compelled to go outside and view the wonders of this season in this state that I now call my home. Not all the leaves are falling, not all the leaves have turned colors. Back in Illinois, where I spent all of my life, the leaves would be falling in huge, damp clusters from the sky. On some streets, orange, gold and flaming red leaves would pile up in yards, eventually being raked to the edge of the street for pickup by the city; as children, we were encouraged to jump in the leaves, to throw them about, to throw our young bodies down into their comforts, so close to the earth and yet so removed from the knowledge of the little deaths that were taking place everywhere around us. The releasing was one of decorum, of seriousness, and most adults would also tumble themselves into the leaves and roll about, delighting in a silly act of irreverence. Here, the leaves still hang from some trees, while others are bare, their adornments already hugging the ground, cupping their ears to the earth, listening to the glorious silence that is about to unfold. The changes are more creeping here. The night air is chillier, damp but not damp like I experienced it in July and August. In the summer months, I found Mississippi to be damp like a warm, soaked blanket thrown about my head. Now, I feel the damp closer, more intimately- it is not just carelessly thrown over shoulders, but has creeped to the very bone of my being, seeping in, calling those things that I no longer need to wash out of my being, to return to the world, to give me peace. It calls for me to relinquish the activities of the growing times of the year, to acknowledge that I am much like the plants which return to their roots at this time of year, feeding themselves underground, in the dark. I too, need the darkness to rest, to languish and linger, to feed my soul for the growing times to come. I have always thought of this time as the beginning of stillness, of healing, of going into myself to nest, to renew for the next year. In Illinois, it is essential to retreat- the nights are bitter, the wind is fierce and biting, sweaters provide the comfort of warm layers against the world. That time is near here as well, but not yet present for me- my blood has not thinned out that much this past year. But as I watch the plants wither and fall, going back to their roots and back to the essential truths of their being, I am still called to willing go inside of myself, to let my seeds drop to the earth to be held until next Spring. I am called to drink more hot teas, to build a few more fires in my fireplace, to begin to dream the world anew from a place of rest and comfort, a place inside myself where new realities can be born. What are you releasing as we pass into the dark time of the year? What seeds need to rest in the dark earth to emerge renewed next Spring? said the Dread Pirate Ro at 8:57 PM on October 11, 2004 Aarrgh! 1 scurvy dogs said "Ahoy, matey!"
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Starboard Shiver Me
Timbers
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