Reflections and Confessions

This is the end, beautiful friend,

This is the end, my only friend

The end of our elaborate plans,

The end of everything that stands,

The end, no safety no surprise,

The end, I’ll never look into your eyes again.

~ from “The End” by The Doors ~

And so the Wheel spins, ever turning, and we move from the light into the darkness. God is dead, may he be reborn. The Goddess retreats, enters the underworld, and is lost to us in her mourning. Darkness, the God of Winter and of all endings, breaks free to lead the Wild Hunt, and the shadow roams the world.

The Dead are returned, and will Feast with us. Honour those who have gone before us, and say your goodbyes to them. You will not meet again for some time.

Reflect on your year, the time you have spent, and the goals you have set. How did you do? Has your year been good, or not? What have you learned?

My year has been overwhelmingly good. I was promoted, and now am in a middle-management position at the group home. It’s where I want to be right now: decent pay, some responsibility, but I can still run away whenever I want. I thought about applying to be the Team Leader (deadline was tonight) but decided not to, the main reason being is that I’m stressed out enough. I don’t really need additional stress.

Alas, poor Melvin, ye served me well. Back in January the car died. I was able, with a cosigner (thanks, Dad) to secure financing for a brand-spanking new Hyundai Tuscon. It has been an unimaginable relief to drive a stable vehicle that isn’t falling apart. Or on fire. Or is 20 years old.

With the new car and the new job came new confidence. This year has definitely been the year of stand-up-for-myself. People who were friendly and hung out with me only because I had a vehicle, disappeared when I didn’t have one, and when I got one again, reappeared…. to find out I was ignoring them.

My grandmother who wanted me to move and become a nurse, was told in no uncertain terms that when I do return to college it will be as a Woman’s Studies major. And if she doesn’t like it, too bad.

(On a sadder note, Tim Horton’s also officially stops selling their pumpkin spiced muffins of goodness. I need to learn to make a pumpkin-spiced cream-filled muffin.)

Forging ahead. Look forward to the year to come. What plans shall you make?

Confession time, and I have a good one.

My name is Jaelle, and I live off of plastic food. What’s that? you ask.

Well, I reply, it means I don’t know much about cooking, but if it’s at least halfway microwaveable then I’ve probably eaten it. And if it comes at Tim Hortons, then I’ve eaten it at least once. And I run off of iced cappuccinos. And there’s been more than one day when I look up and realize that all I’ve eaten was an ice cap, and a sucker.

But…. you say…. witch? Healthy living? Harm none, and all that jazz? And I say, yeah. I know. Hence the reason for the change.

Getting back to the why-I-don’t-cook-excuse I have to say I grew up cooking dinner for the family. Every Saturday, us girls would band together, clean the kitchen, cook dinner, and wash dishes for Mum. It was just a thing we did, and, being the one that universally hated cleaning of any kind (still do) I always volunteered to cook. The other two usually let me.

Having said that, I freely admit I was a horrible cook. I excelled at making food that, a day later, looked like unrecognizable mush. Because Dad can’t handle spicy food (although he does insist on using pepper, salt, and HP sauce, so I personally always felt that was a crock of bull) it was usually tasteless. The exception to this rule is stew. I make a decent beef stew.

That’s about it, though. In all other aspects I was a novice cook, and I learned pretty much on my own. I did phone Grandma a couple of times to ask for help, but after about the seventh “isn’t she teaching you anything?” question I kinda gave up and just started throwing random shit together. That’s how I ended up with the Soup Of Doom. To this day I have no idea how it turned from good-tasting to tastes-like-rotten-fish, but I *do* know that several hefty tablespoons of peanut butter later it was actually pretty good. (And I wasn’t the only one who said that, although I suppose Dad could have just been making nice.)

A cookbook! A COOKBOOK! You scream at me. Yep. I know about cookbooks. I even know how to (in theory) use one. Have I ever looked at one? Yeah, I love looking at them when I’m hungry. Cooked out of one…. that’s a different answer (and that answer is a resounding no).

So my major goal for the new year is to learn how to eat. Properly, regularly, healthily, and on time. It fits in with the wannabe-vegetarian, Spark-People-using, ex-Wiccan person(a) that I am now. Contradiction, it’s not just a tacky smelling perfume.

those whom have gone before us: a ritual for samhain

Copyright 2009 by Jaelle, ask before using or posting. Originally began as a poem, grew from there into ritual. May be used alone or as part of a larger, structured Samhain ritual. Actions (added after the poem was completed) are written in orange.

dearly beloved

today we are gathered

in celebration

and in sorrowful memory

of those who have gone before us.

this is the end

this is the shadow

this is the Doom

that comes to us all: death

as the leaf falls

as the light fades

as the breath leaves

so, too, will you pass

This is the Day of Mourning

And likewise the Day of Celebration

We mourn those who have

Gone before us

[ list names, dates, identities. For a smaller ritual you could say something like "Sarah May Keller, born 1946, died 1987. She was a wonderful mother, teacher,  and an advocate for the blind."In a large ritual with lots of name you may want to reduce it to "Sarah May Keller, born 1946, died 1987, teacher." Or however you want. ]

Those whom have left us, we call you

From the field and the forest deep, we call you

From river and sea and shell and stone, we call you

From the warming embrace of the deepening grave, we call you

COME!

Be with us for a moment, an hour, a day

Let us speak to you with both joy and sorrow

For you are remembered, and loved

Eat from the plates we have lovingly prepared for you

Our souls brim with joy at the thought of you.

Let us remember.

[plates are brought out, dinner is set. The Dumb Supper can be eaten alongside or at a separate table.]

O Mother and Father

We bid you welcome at the

Festival of the Dead

Eat, drink, and be cheerful

Let us remember the starting place

Where we have come from

And to where we must return

Let us remember that

We are not alone in our grief

And that we are loved

We are thankful for this knowledge

We are thankful for this feast

We are thankful for Your Love

We are thankful for each other.

Join us in our celebration!

[ Commence feasting. During the feast share stories of those who have passed, supporting family members in their remembered. It falls on the community as a whole to keep an eye out for those for whom the passing is recent or still traumatic. Tissues may be a good accessory to have. The idea, though, is remembrance. ]

Those who have

Gone before us

We are reminded by your presence

That all that is born, must die

And all that is dead, must be reborn

And we are reminded also

That that which is loved, never dies.

We bid you fond farewell,

Lovers, ancestors, family, friends

And we bid you a safe and fast return

To the Heart of the Goddess:

We will greet you when we meet again.

This is the Day of Mourning

for those who have

Gone before us.

May they be loved, and remembered fondly.

This is the Day of Celebration

for those who now remain.

Go forth and be of good cheer.

Be blessed, and go in peace

And warm memory.

Farewell.

[depart, or continue on to rest of ritual.]