Unmasking Joy

The Hunter's moon is here, with Halloween a few days away, and they're calling us home. The veil between our bodies and the spirit world is thinning, like the earth's cervix in preparation for winter's labor. Nature's ring of fire pulls us closer to our center, inviting us to transform our pain.

The ancient Irish tradition celebrates Halloween as Samhain, the Celtic New Year. The saints and our loved ones who've passed are calling us home, like the increasing shadows drawing us inward. The line between the physical and spiritual world fades as the veil between the living and the dead thins, showing us what needs to be born.

I floated through life like a ghost for much of my unlived life. I stayed drunk in the ring of fire, afraid of getting burned, when what I needed was to dream. There is no time or space for dreams. Langston Hughes says it best in his poem "Harlem," "What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore and then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?"

For me, it was a slow burn. It led to addiction, major depression, anxiety, and many other diagnoses (and misdiagnoses) that never touched the root. No one taught me how to dream, let alone live with a dream deferred. When addiction took my best friend's life and the best of me, I could hear her calling me back. I was masking my joy and numbing a pain only an outsider could understand. The veil between us fades this time each year, and I can feel her spirit live on when I make time for joy and space for dreams.

Music and art move me, but yoga has connected me to prana, life energy. It rewires my nervous system to feel whole through every phase of life. It gives me the tools to self-regulate instead of self-medicate. As the full moon unearths another layer of healing, I have given birth to my dream of living authentically. As I look to the season and nature to guide me, I'm reminded of the murmurations all around, signaling me to gather my people.

I prepared for Samhain yesterday by visiting my witchy friend and playing barefoot in the woods. I brought a tripod and my phone to capture the otherworldy beauty of this place. I watched a photographer take fall photos of a family when a giant hawk divebombed the ground beside me. I gasped and cackled and was embarrassed when they saw I was alone.

I later walked through a grocery store as people stared at my dirty legs; it reminded me of coming home after playing in the Georgia woods as a little girl. I could see their second glance at my giant birthmark, and for once in my life, I felt proud of the mark that would have had me burned alive at one point in our history. It made me wonder who the witches are among us. I feel an urgency to gather them, protect them, and remind them to dream.

The time for authenticity has come for me, which means the masks must come off. I see how harmful they are to my loved ones, especially my kids, who live life on the Autism Spectrum. Like the hawk in the woods, joy has divebombed me to force change. Vulnerability is the next layer the moon has unmasked, and authentic community is the dream. With the moon as our guide, I invite you to unmask your joy and dream with me!