🎃🍂 Halloween Magic and Musings on "The Veil Between Two Worlds"
Hello Lovely Subscribers,
A few quick announcements before my Halloween musings - there’s so much to share!
Thanks to your support we managed to raise over $3k for the Black Mama’s Bail Fund! This fundraiser was a joy to participate in and I’m so grateful for all of you who donated.
I had the most wonderful conversation with Lucas Taylor of @brightleaftarot for the latest episode of the Incandescent Tarot Podcast. Check it out here on substack or wherever you get your podcasts. We also feature our first question in Ask a Tarot Reader about repeat/stalker cards (thanks to listener Ruby for such a wonderful question).
Head over to the online community if you want some ideas and information around Samhain/Halloween traditions and rituals - my enthusiasm for this time of year knows no bounds!
… and, finally, I’ve been working secretly on a special tarot course called Tarot Beyond the Book. It’s debuting in November and if you’d like to learn more or put your name on the waitlist, head over to its new launch page.
As always, thank you for being here and may your Halloween, Samhain, and blue moon in Taurus be sweet, transformative, and full of festivity.
It couldn’t have been a more perfect transformation for Halloween.
Just a few days ago we had to put the air on. The heat was back in Durham and while it looked autumnal outside - burnished leaves falling slowly - it certainly didn’t feel it. My husband, notorious for his skill at compliments, even asked me: “How do you get your hair so nice and frizzy?” The weather was definitely more humid summer than spooky fall.
Yet when I met my friend for an evening hike yesterday, the winds had shifted. I drew my teddybear jacket around me, grateful that I could at least button the top of it at this late stage in my pregnancy. It was brisk and the almost-full moon sat heavily above the tree line.
Now that’s better.
This time of the year has always been my favorite. Growing up in New England made it impossible to be immune to the magic - we had the mysterious, darkening days; pumpkins and gourds and corn piled in abundance on the farm stands; spiced apple cider and the perfection of a pack of sugared apple cider donuts; ghost stories and horror movies and decorations everywhere.
I grew up in a small town (technically a village) where we had to drive from house to house to trick-or-treat. Because there were so few families around, my friends and I had a sticky monopoly on the candy. (One year, my sister got five pounds. We had to use pillowcases instead of jack-o-lantern shaped buckets to collect the bounty.)
As an adult I carried on the tradition wherever I went: wild costumes, more pumpkins and gourds than advisable, and a huge party. Yet this year has felt empty. The invites didn’t go out, the house is silent, and instead I’m settling into a more internal Halloween. My fall altar is set up in my kitchen, a profusion of candy cane-striped gourds, flowers, and pomegranates; I'll bring down photos of our ancestors this evening, light some candles and invite them in.
You’ve likely heard that this time of the year is when the “veil between the worlds is the thinnest.” The phrase certainly has a ring to it, and indeed ancestral connection, magic, and ghostly encounters are a theme of the season. Unsurprisingly, as a witch and tarot reader, I’ve found myself drawn to this idea, though I don’t necessarily feel like the two are so separate during other times. Rather than being an exception to the rule, I feel as if this time of the year is simply a collective experiencing of the veil’s thinness, a time when we all join together to reach out more consciously.
This facet of Halloween, otherwise known as the sabbat Samhain, is something I haven’t always touched on directly. My relationship with my ancestors is very lived-in and daily, yet there’s something about this year that has me craving ritual and a more formal connection. Perhaps it’s the call to take the effort to actively honor, to sit a while in the space where life and death are close, and to seek wisdom in all the lifetimes that have come before ours.
We can also express this connection through seemingly casual means - watching a bunch of horror movies, for example, and feeling the thrill of fear at how close we can be to that other side of the veil - and I love that. Who says awareness of death even has to be macabre? Wearing costumes and playing around with humanity/identity through masquerade is delightful!
Whatever way we choose to engage with this time, let’s make it festive and meaningful (and do let me know if you have a particularly wonderful costume/tradition/or story in the comments below.)