Happy Samhuinn!

Aishwarya Dattani
Nov 3 · 3 min read
Copyright Gilliard Lach for Beltane Fire Society. All Rights Reserved. www.beltane.org / www.facebook.com/beltanefiresociety

Last night I was golden. And yellow and blue and red. We walked in silence through a meadow. The city lights were all around us but far enough away. As we walked through crispy cold air and through time, our cloaks caressed the tar and grass and stone. There was something nostalgic about walking into the night with the cloaked and hooded. It felt for some time, like we were the only people there. A nomadic tribe in search of a place to camp for the night. Preferably a place with a fire.

The cobbled path told us that people were near. Behind the archway, a big yellow billboard for the student housing company told me of the time that has passed since these stones were laid. As we climbed up Jacobs ladder, the eyes of the people climbing down reminded me that I am in costume.

Walking through the crowded queues, beating our drums to announce our arrival, we make our way to the top of the hill as people take photos and talk about us as though we are not there, not part of them, not right now. For now, we are vehicles carrying the space between the thinly veiled world of bodies and spirits.

The fire is lit. It is summer.

“And things will never change again.

And things will never change again.

And things will NEVER change again.”

But wait! What’s happening?

I become aware of the autumn tree on my neck. The one with its roots in my heart. A symbol for my creative voice in transition. It’s leaves are about to come undone. Change is upon us.

So then, sending silent screams into the air that some may see but none will hear, we walked. Seeking reciprocity and rhythm in games. Seeking familiarity and comfort in companionship until we found ourselves arranged in a human triskele and realised that “life is lived in every moment, where all relates to all that’s before and all that’s left yet to explore. It’s time and things will change again.”

Summer and winter clashed and the Callieach moved like lightning and when she crowned the Winter King, I learned something I already knew. Winter is coming. But this time I have ritualised and rehearsed and I am ready.

We play two last times, telling our story in drum beats and although my mind is damp and frozen, my body carries the message. And as my eyes rest on top of bouncing heads, they see more than that. The veil between the two worlds has lifted and fluidly entities are flowing. My eyes see the wisdom of the collective human spirit in acknowledging and celebrating change, in marking a transition through ritual, in using our creative expression to make sense of a world that is just a little outside of our understanding.

Now I am home. My samhuinn persona rests in golden puddles on the bathroom floor. I am warm and dry and comfortable. But I learnt a lot from the discomfort. I learnt that halloween is not about costumes and candy. I learnt about myself, about culture, about the human condition, and most importantly I learnt how to play; both drums and life.

Happy Samhuinn! :)

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