Happy freaking Halloween—or, for me this year, happy Samhain.
Last night I had one of those experiences that is difficult to put into words because “mind-blowing” doesn’t quite cover it. It was soul-blowing. My soul felt full.
I gathered in a small circle with like-minded people, and together we called in our ancestors. The group was smaller than usual, which made everything feel more intimate. We held hands, stood together, breathed together, and opened ourselves to remembering the people—and animals—who came before us and the ones we still carry with us.
When we let go of each other’s hands, I felt myself tipping backward. I had this enormous sensation of energy rushing through me. For a couple of minutes I had to simply stand there, breathe and let myself become steady again.
Whatever language someone else might use for that experience, I know what it felt like to me: connection.
A Room Full of Ancestors
I thought about my brother. I thought about my grandmothers and grandfathers. I thought about the animals I have loved. I thought about the whole ancestral line behind me—the lives I know something about and the lives I know nothing about.
For a little while, it felt like I was standing in a room full of all of them.
And I was just in gratitude. In love. In awe.
Samhain is traditionally associated with the transition into the darker part of the year, and in modern spiritual practice it is often treated as a time for honoring ancestors, remembering the dead and reflecting on what we are ready to release. I love the idea of the “veil” feeling thin—not because I need to prove exactly what is happening, but because it gives me language for moments when connection feels unusually close.
And lately, it has felt close.
I felt it recently while lying beside Bill with my hands on him, praying and sending him love when he wasn’t feeling well. I have felt it through Reiki and energy work. I have felt it while thinking about my brother and my Gigi. I have felt it while exploring the idea of past lives and asking what old energy I might still be carrying that no longer belongs in the life I am living now.
What Am I Ready to Release?
That became the real question of the night.
If I am going to honor what came before me, then I also want to be intentional about what I carry forward.
I am ready to release the remnants of self-doubt. Insecurity. Fear of success. Fear of failure. All those little voices that can survive long after we have outgrown the version of ourselves that originally needed them.
I don’t want to drag them into another year simply because they are familiar.
I want to make room for what serves me here, now, in this actual human life: trust, courage, connection, gratitude, love and the willingness to keep becoming.
Spirit With Feet on the Ground
I keep coming back to how fascinating it is to be a soul having a human experience. I want to explore my highest spiritual self, yes—but I also want to become the clearest version of myself mentally and take care of this physical body carrying me through the experience.
Maybe that is part of the balance: reaching upward while staying rooted here.
Connecting to the people who came before us while still taking responsibility for the life directly in front of us.
Remembering the dead while becoming more alive.
Last night felt like grown-up Halloween to me. The kids get dressed up, run through the streets and collect candy. I got into a circle, took a deep breath and connected to spirit.
And what an experience it was.
I left feeling blessed that spaces like this keep finding me—or maybe that I keep being led toward them.
Either way, I’m listening.
And as this year begins making its way toward its end, I know what I’m leaving behind.
Self-doubt can stay here.
I’ve got somewhere else to go.
