Taking a Deep Breath

This was a busy weekend both physically and spiritually.  I've felt pulled in so many directions for the last week that it's very satisfying to sit down, take a deep breath and look back at some of the moments of wonder that snuck their way into my hectic weekend.

On Samhain night we built a candle labyrinth in the back yard and at the center built a sacred fire in the firepit.  Walking a labyrinth is a very personal thing and I'm sure each person who had the chance to walk the labyrinth experienced it differently.  But for me it was a very lightening journey.  As I walked the path and sang chants to my ancestors, I felt the weight of my "oh so important/must be done right this minute" obligations fall away.  For ten minutes I sat in the cradle of eternity.  Warmth. Light. Comfort. Hope. The desire to not see me make the same mistakes as they did.  I felt all that and more for those ten minutes in eternity. It's faded now. More a candle than the bonfire I experienced that night but that's OK.  I can still close my eyes and feel the warmth and see the love and that's enough for now.

                            

Probably because of the realignment of my priorities I experienced Friday night, I also had the chance to overcome a fear that had been plaguing me for some time.  I've been using "Blood of my Blood" by Rachael Hilton as part of our Fellowship's Samhain celebration for the last three years.  Each year I want to sing it to truly allow the power of the chant to come through and each year I read it as a poem instead.  This was one of the chants I sang as I walked the labyrinth and something just clicked. "yes...this is right...this is a chant not a poem and it is more important to honor the ancestors in song that it is to hide from my fears."  So this morning I sang (belted) this chant and allowed the true power of the words to come though as they never did when I read it as a poem.