This is my last Samhain--or to use the words of my Cornish ancestors, Cala Gwave, the Calends of Winter--in this life. I approach this transformation. I am afraid, of course I am. So this is my personal message, not my usual style here in these notebooks But I am compelled to write in this way, this day, for death is near. She calls me now. It is appropriate, the timing. Samhain is the night of my ancestors. I prepare for them. I write urgently, with a sense of destiny.
Come. Come with me. To the place of night. To the place of beauty. To the cave of the great mother. The old one. The wise one. The Cailleach.
Come. Wear comfortable clothes. Bring something to rest on. Settle yourself. Be safe.
I have my journey to share with you.
Come.
You are in a beautiful inland valley. It is one of your favourite landscapes The route is easy, in the night. White markers reflect in your torchlight beam.
Ahead you see a huge entrance to a cave. In front of the cave a group of women are seated, around a fire. They laugh. They are talking and eating.
You approach them. Recognise your friends. They greet you. One of them hands you a candle. You cup your hand around the flame. Then you pass by the group and continue on towards the entrance.
It is dark. Very dark. The soft floor is dry. You move slowly towards the back. The floor is soft but you can wheel your chair over it easily, if needs be.
There in the rocks to the left side is a much smaller entrance. It is flat to go in. There is just enough space for you to enter, with your chair, if needs be. A perfect size. You hold the candle low down. You enter.
It is small, unevenly shaped, with curving walls and roof. In the middle there is space for you to sit, and a stone to sit on, if you wish.
You sit. You place the candle down beside you.
It is dark, but not impossible to recognise the pictures painted all over the walls and roof. There are trees, plants, animals, women. There are many breasts. There are spirals and rings; cup marks and chevrons.
You absorb them, slowly, in your own time. There are leaves. Hands. More breasts.
You are safe. You reach down and extinguish the candle.
It is totally dark. The dark surrounds you. Holds you. Once before, you floated in the dark like this, inside your mother. You remember now. You swam.
You are safe. You survived that dark. You were born from it. You breathe the dark. Your eyes understand the dark.
But you were taught perhaps as a child to fear the dark. There are demons, maybe. You internalized external fear. Then when you were grown, you had your fears confirmed. You learned that the demons can be real. This is true. But you are here in this place because you have already survived them.
Now the demons return. Haunt you. Taunt you.
You are alone with them. They sometimes choose to visit this place.
They do not have the power to harm you now.
You have faced them before. Will do so again.
Your friends are by the fire at the entrance to the large cave.
Leave me, you say to the demons.
Dissolve now. Melt back into the dark.
Leave me now. I wish you no harm. I demand that you depart from here. You are not wanted here.
I face you now. Faced by me you must dissolve.
For I am strong. In here. This is my womb. My home.
My inner self. My own dark. Not yours. Mine.
Once you were real and I was not strong. You hurt me then. You are every ism that came from outside me. You are every human fear that has arisen to challenge me.
You are my demons. But you cannot harm me now. For now I am strong. l will stay strong. I have the power to face you. You were my worst demons. There can be no worse fear than you. And I have the inner strength to meet you. To challenge you. And I do so now. Here in this place where I am home.
You breathe slowly now. They slowly dissolve. Into the floor, into the walls, into the roof.
Your trust in this place is yours. It is the place of your inner dark. Your healing space. Your own time. Your creative core.
You know that there are walls in here, but it is dark, dark in here. You put your hand in front of your face. You cannot tell where your hand is. You feel your hand move. Then you feel your imagination move. You move with it, into the walls, through the painted pictures which you know are there. And beyond.
There is no boundary.
You are beyond walls. Beyond boundaries.
Your spirit knows no limit. You are moving through the walls. The universe is vast now. Black. Your spirit moves into the vastness and the stars are infinite. You are yourself, inside; yourself outside. You are unboundaried. Self and beyond self.
This is the obsidian mirror. The mirror of the creative inner dark.
Beyond your worst fears is your own dark. The dark is very beautiful here.
You were born from this place. You always hold this place inside you. And to know it, you will face the demons and dissolve them. They are every ism that came from without you. they are every human fear to challenge you.
Your spirit journeys between the stars in blackness, the deepest dark you have ever known; the place where your language begins; your pictures begin; your pots are made; your cloth is woven; your growth begins; your songs arise; your dances are formed; your every dream is seeded. The place where love begins and your every cell is born. Know this place. Make something from it.
You journey slowly now. In a long slow arc begin to return.
Back to the pictures on the walls where you sit. Through the pictures into the small, enclosed dark space. Floating there. Joining your body. Into your body. Seated on the stone. In the middle of this place.
You rest a while. You breathe the dark.
I am ready, you say into the darkness.
You pick up the candle. Your friends arrive at the entrance the small cave. They bring you a flame. You light your candle.
You are aware, there, adjusting to the pictures which leap and dance now on the walls around you, in the unaccustomed candle-light.
Thank you, you say, to the place, to the walls, to the pictures, to the universe, to the origin.
You leave, slowly. Join your friends.
Move through the large cave with the dry soft floor.
There are greetings from the others, by the fire.
You rest there, then you sleep.
The caves will always wait for you, whenever you need dark.