We are the bones of death.
Right now, in this very instance, we are the walking dead. The acceptance of this
fact and the empowerment of this knowledge is one of the few things that the
Craft makes claim to offering. As Witches, we are those whom dwell at the edges
of society and interact directly with the unseen forces of the Spirit-world.
This role gives the Witch a particular role that both benefits them and the
greater community at large.
It has been a long time
since I have written anything about Samhain. If the truth were told, and it
will be, I’m just not interested in rehashing the same ole beginner lesson about
this time of year. Nor do I claim that this blog is anything but the same ole
beginner lesson. There is nothing new, only the new again. For you see, the
meat and potatoes of this feast lay in the silent undertaking of the work and
not in the talking about it. To say that when we die we go to live amongst the
ancestors is a starkly different perspective then to sit in the knowing that
under our flesh lay the bones that could become the ancestor relics of our own
descendants. We are the bones of death; we are the walking dead.
There are lots of ways for
the Witch to engage with death and this time of year is a dark brew saturated with
the work of the dead. Will you be sipping of it?
It does not matter whether
it is via dressing up in costumes or something more “witchy” such as stirring
the roots to enliven the dead by which we may redden them to life again. It
does not matter to the Witch. It does not matter because there is a knowledge here
that comes only from having experienced it. It is this that the Witch does for
the community.
By becoming immersed in
the litanies of the dead, the Witch comes to an understanding that transforms
them into the keeper of a great a mystery—the mystery of death. We hold that
mystery and translate its familiarity for those less keen to welcome the
departed to their table. We stand in the crowds, alone, yet with the sacred truth
that the ancestors are not themselves relics of the past. The past is not a
place where the dead dwell, the ancestors are now. They, all of them, are right
this moment. This we know.
The Witch knows this as
true because we do not call the ancestors up from a time that is no more, nope,
we actively work with them right now, in this moment, and they answer that call.
Likewise, when we die and cast off the flesh that clothes these bones, we do
not go to live in the past but instead transform in the now.
We are the bones of death;
we are the walking dead.
Boidh Se,
-SM
“Lost in a thicket,
bare-foot upon a thorn path.”
