Time for a meditation on the impact of Samhain this year. The end of things. The ground is sterile and cold. Everything that was planted in the fertile months has now been harvested, for good or for ill. Some of our mind’s fields may have laid fallow this year. Certainly in my case. It has been a year of upheaval, on a global scale and for me, on a personal scale and rather than dig in, rather than sow seeds, I run, I’ve hidden, I’ve packed the harvest away for later….
I find an old myth of the Bone Mother dancing around the edges of my thoughts. She wants in and I don’t know that I’m mentally or spiritually prepared for her impact right now. This is her time and really, I have no business trying to bar her way.
I suppose I should mention that this is all metaphor. The Bone Mother is an archetype. I don’t believe in the concept as a true Deity or being. The Bone Mother to me is death. Death of ideas, of ways of life, the last harvest. All things must come to an end. Every day has an end, every year has an end, every life too, has an end.
This year has been full of reminders of the concept. Is there a reason for this? I’m not in a position to say, with any certainty.
The archetype of Anubis (Inpu) is something that has been a constant in my conscious for few years now. He is responsible for the weighing of souls. This translates to me as judgement as well. Judging my own actions and weighing them. Judging my plans, my sowing – if you will – of ideas, of directions and determining if they were worthy of me. Samhain, whether one believes in it as some sort of holy time or if one sees it as simply a metaphor, in my case, it is the latter, is a significant time. Perhaps the most significant of the year.
Thelemites, don’t have the luxury of claiming things to be some god’s will. Nothing is a god’s will – everything is our own will. We alone are the architects, the buildings, the brick layers of our days, of our actions and the ramifications thereof. We are the directors of our own futures and the future of our souls’ progressions. We are responsible for all the good and bad that we encounter. There are always choices, whether or not we choose the right path, is entirely up to us and reliant on the lessons we have either chosen to learn or to eschew. It is very difficult to learn lessons from the harsh realities of life. Gleaning something of worth from a betrayal, from the evil actions of another is a tough go but there is always, and I do mean, always something positive to be taken, some lesson that allows personal growth. The trick is to find it, buried under hurt, under personal pain, lying beneath waves of grief – the lessons are there. Our task is to find them and to grow, to take another step toward our will to be who we need to be, at any given time. Every man and woman is a star, has a great and sometimes terrible meaning. We are, totally, in control of our own destiny. We are the captains, the ensigns of our ship – we are the oarsmen. Total and completely responsible for our fates.
If we ignore or try to put this truth aside for any length of time, our minds, our souls may be forced to use more strident methods to get the lesson to surface.
Over the past few years, I found myself believing that I couldn’t face the lessons, often turning to alcohol to mute the lessons. Not to any great and horrible extent but on the weekends, a few hits of rum and the lessons were pushed aside in favour of some immediate fun. In favour of the mundane and shallow instead of what my will was demanding of me – to LEARN. To progress. Being of a stubborn personality, I continued on my merry way – deciding that I had had enough of life lessons and wanted some peace.
Well, the soul, the will, cannot be denied for long and I find myself unable to digest even a small amount of alcohol. I find myself getting physical ill from it. Horrible heartburn and upset stomach. My body reacting to an unwanted, unrequired poison. Or is it my will giving me a good swift kick in the arse. Telling me to move forward, that the mundane is to be left for others.
I’m tired though. Emotionally, physically but most importantly, spiritually exhausted. Inner strength is in dire need of some Vitamin B or a can of Popeye’s spinach. I want to seek out guidance but this is a weak excuse. One cannot seek guidance for an individual’s journey from someone else. I know the methods to regaining strength lies inside and I simply need to go in, access and put that strength where it belongs but I’m tired. Bone tired. Is this the end of the harvest for me? Is this why I am so tired or is it simply that I kept putting lessons aside until they attained overwhelming proportions. I will only find out if I begin to take on that mountain of lessons, if I approach them one at a time and clear my own path of the obstacles of my own making.