Voices of the Past

This week’s offering comes from my dear friend Maluna.  Over the years, this woman has become mentor, trusted friend, and soulmate.  We have shared laughter, tears, and many a sleepless night.  She has listened to and interpreted my dreams and given me a right smart kick in the ass when I needed it most.  I have asked her to share her magick and her heart with you.

Samhain. It means Summer’s end. The end of a season…the end of the witches year. The veil between the worlds is thin…the dead walk among the living…and many of us see and hear them. It’s always been my favorite Sabbat…this year it took on a whole new meaning.

It’s been a turbulent year for me….the end of a marriage, a new home….the death* of a life I once knew. Deep in the woods…far from anyone….I feel the hedge witches….they lived away from society….shunned for being different….feared or respected…they practiced their craft in solitude.

I’ve been shunned from my small town. Lies, accusations, misconceptions from friends and family…and like the Salem witch trails….rumors spread like wildfire….fingers pointed…damage done. I’ve walked these woods each day…listening to the voices of the past….sometimes wailing like the banshees that cry in the howling wind…looking for answers….wondering if all I have lost is worth what I’ve gained.

Do we travel through our physical lives like the ghosts and spirits that slip through the veil? Do they regret their lives and the consequences of their actions? Do they haunt and pass through to feel…to touch once more what they had….good or bad? When we die…I believe we have choices….to start fresh, or to come back with glimmers of the life we left…maybe it takes many lives lived to find the purpose…the soulmate…the connection that will send us to the divine afterlife….the completeness. Could we possibly be just lost souls traveling through the veil looking for that connection? Seeking…searching.

I’ve found many answers in this dead season….and I’ll find more in coming dark months….it’s always been my time. As many tears as I’ve cried for what is past….I also see a glimmer of light….the glint of a sword…the flick of a cape….the brush of The Morrigan…and I’ve found a connection of magick with a dear friend….a goal to build a sanctuary of magick and Nature…a haven for the ancient hedge witches that pass through the deep woods that surround us…our voices will carry on the traditions…the love of the land….a time lost in the Mists. In the dark, cold ashes of the Samhain fires new growth will be rise….new lives will be lived….and magick will carry on. BB