Here in the UK, the weather has turned and the colder air sweeps down from the North. Nights are longer, as the sun jumps along the horizon with each rising and setting, heading further and further towards the south.  Trees are changing colours, and plants are beginning to die back, the green fading into golden and tawny hues, foliage less dense and earth beginning to peek through the underbrush. 

The tide of Samhain has begun, when, after the autumn equinox we prepare for the darkness to come.  The balance has been tipped, and we have tipped with it, our internal clocks trying to adjust to new temperatures and light levels.  Often, we try to establish our centre, attempting to find some foothold or handhold in the coming darkness, our egos crying out the great rallying cry of “I AM!”  The darkness, however, knows the folly of this, and smiles as it creeps ever closer.

In the darkness there are no guidelines. There are no boundaries. There is no up or down, no left or right. There is only impenetrable night, a sweet release from the constraints of the known. 

Druidry is all about relationship, making honourable sustainable relationships with the world. We find our place in the world through our work with the world.  At this time of year, when the seeds that we have planted have been harvested, when the long night beckons us to dream it all up again, we can dive headlong into the darkness to quest the awen.  We release ourselves into the night and with it our sense of self in order to undergo the transformation in the great cauldron.  Once transformed, we once again seek out the world within which we work, guide, seek inspiration and inspire others.

In the depths of the darkness, we can take a good, long hard look at our selves. Without distraction, as the leaves blow away on the winter winds we too look at what we can release in order to find nourishment in the next cycle.  No longer grasping, we let go of failed dreams, of dead relationships, of arguments and emotions and let them skitter away like leaves in the wind. 

We can go a step deeper, seeking the edges of our soul, going where few have gone before in the journey of returning and releasing.  With the darkness as our guide and inspiration, we breathe with the dark gods and release our sense of knowing, our sense of self into the chill winter air.  It is not for the faint-hearted.

For it takes great courage to release all that you think you are, all that others think you are, all that you think you should, would or could be.  Dropping the edges of your soul, opening your sanctuary to the darkness, the soul skids every which way, losing bits and pieces of itself as a deeper, intense integration occurs.  In that integration is the pure moment of being, God, a holistic sense of oneness with the world, where there is no illusion of separation.  It is pure being.

We learn more and more to release into that moment as each night passes, letting the complex ripples of the soul smooth out until the surface is smooth, reflecting the great darkness that brings all knowing and none. For only when we know nothing can we begin to learn.

Waiting in that exquisite darkness, hovering in a place that is no place and in a time that is no time, we wait to be born again, for the tide to turn.  We lie back into the softened edges of our soul.  No sound, no voice, just being. No I Am, No I, No They or Us. Just pure being.

The blessing of the tide of Samhain.  If you dare.