Samhain was beautiful, beloveds. The veil felt thin even for those who aren’t usually sensitive. Did you feel the presence of those who’ve gone before you? Did they visit in dreams? I hope you swam in possibility and heard every loving message your ancestors whispered.
I traveled with a friend to California, visiting her family and a memorial on a hilltop for fallen warriors. The trip was haphazard and full of strange voices and energies, but it was a beautiful adventure rich in insight and emotional intimacy. I wouldn’t have traded it for all the comfort in the world.
But it was the November sun that felt most surreal. Though I lived in California nearly a decade ago, I never quite got used to the heat when it should be cold, the sun when it’s meant to be dark. As a child of the Pacific Northwest, I have a certain set of expectations from mother earth at the changing of seasons that southern California flat out refuses to meet.
Now that I’m home and past the solstice, I’m white-knuckling through the cold mornings, the foggy afternoons, and the early dusk. The melatonin surge has me sleepy by 5 p.m. I’m breathing more deeply, swallowing vitamin D like candy, trying desperately to hold on to the version of me who once basked in sunlight.
It reminds me of the song Northern Attitude — a haunting duet by Noah Kahan and Hozier. The first time I heard the chorus, it rang like a bell inside me:
“If I get too close, and I’m not how you hoped,
Forgive my northern attitude — I was raised out in the cold…”
I froze. That’s me.
And then, the next line:
“If the sun don’t rise ’til the summertime,
Forgive my northern attitude — I was raised on little light.”
Yes. The serotonin, dopamine — the natural chemicals that stabilize our moods — all fall through the floor in the dark half of the year. We get sleepier, heavier. Moodiness creeps in like fog if we're not careful. So, beloveds, we must be careful.
Name your melancholy. Hold it up to the candle's flame or electric light. Is it real, or is it chemistry? Is it sorrow, or just the rhythm of a body needing rest?
I’m not telling you to fight your body. I’m not suggesting you flood yourself with stimulants or chase down a tanning bed. This is the time for softening. For going inward. For nesting, reading, listening to music that stirs the soul, making love if you’re lucky. This longing for summer won’t last. The sadness isn’t forever.
So rest, my loves. Rest your body. Rest your soul.
Gather your most beautiful stones and cleanse them, program them. If you don’t know how (or if you want someone to serve you in this) let your priestess bless a talisman made just for you.
Because you, beloved, deserve rest.
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