Black velvet (vs. orange plastic)

I had a pure spiritual moment today.  This doesn’t exactly surprise me, as it is Samhain after all, the velvety night when the veil between This and Other worlds is thinnest and the energy runs thick.  Feeling the urge to sing in Spanish along with songs in my Latin American alt/rock collection, I thought “Madera” by Los Aterciopelados might be a logical choice.

I didn’t realize how logical a choice it was.  As I sang along about Gaia, the Universal Mother, and a general tribute to all things fertile and female, and for a few minutes, I connected.  It was a three-way merge between my soul and its karmic lineage, the mysticism and energy of the holiday, and that particular song with its Mahadeva-esque concept and its Amazon-tribal percussive accents.

The energy and mysticism could be felt, and it could actually be traced back to last night, for it always begins the night before, doesn’t it?  We had watched Hocus Pocus (bleh), Icabod Crane and the Legend of Sleepy Hollow (with its Headless Horseman climax), and the Charlie Brown special about the Great Pumpkin.

Actually, the energy and mysticism have always been there, each and every Samhain.  Its near-palpable pulse noticeably intensified as the hour grew later.  I’ve always loved dressing up and I went trick-or-treating as a kid, always enjoying the gathering of candy.  But it has always gone much deeper than that.  I had always been bored with (and nearly irritated by) both typical “Halloween” extremes: the innocent good-natured (think orange plastic) childlike stuff that made light of–and ignored–the real significance on one hand, and the gory, violent slasher flicks or scenes of blood and guts on the other.  Both missed the point, and the point was too cool a concept to miss.

The concept was a simple state of being and appreciation.  It was an intense mystical haze, full of incense and cosmic power.  It’s a little eerie but fascinating.  It’s an ambient magnetism, with occult subjects, herbs, neat symbols, and spiritual renewal.  It’s an energy that shakes you to the core, enigmatic yet captivating, compelling you to stay up Way Past Midnight.

Not much has changed; the activities may have, but the electricity and its source remain the same.  This year, the Samhain energy manifested in the form of my curiosity of Sleepy Hollow and its sister village Tarrytown as real places.  My research did not disappoint me.

I reckon Samhain will always hold that fascination for me.  Who knows, I may try to call on that magnetic energy at some point (I promise my intentions are pure).  It is always a holiday I can feel coming, even if it’s trying to sneak up on me.


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