October Enchantments
“ :: chorus, to sing, concert, song, magic spell, rouse to ecstatic admiration, to influence by (or as if by) charm and incantation ::”
We took a trip. We took a break. We drove to the ocean, visited an ancient tree, put toes in the water, and rested in a brief time out of time.
It wasn’t about the change of scenery, the money spent on meals away from home, the different bed, the strangers on streets far away from our usual ones.
The rest itself, the pause from making, doing, producing, hustling and distributing resources - this was the difference. The quiet-enough was the difference. It allowed the ears to perk up to the deeper notes, just under the surface hum of daily chaos.
The spectacular moments, the miracles - as they were - lived within our perception and experience of them. Nobody outside my body and mind would have observed the goings on in those few days as anything particularly special or unusual.
I touched a tree. I took in the rays of the sun. I ordered Turkish coffee for the first time. I walked into a sweet collection of local shops.
But there was enchantment afoot. The October sun rose, and the moon set on September, full in Aries and beaming orange glow into my heart, rousing soul songs and worship from deep in my being.
It was quiet enough. Quiet enough for me to hear the singing, the old melodies of autumn’s woman, her circle and smoke. She began to appear faintly in the twilight, twisting and turning this way and that, smiling and winking when I did a double take between the shadows.
She winked again when I tasted the Turkish coffee and bit into the sweet candied Turkish delight, sitting in the tiny plastic container on top of my piping hot cup. The song was there, weaving a web of delight and remembrance ‘round and ‘round my mind…
Heady and full, pleasantly empty, she wove a plaid of soft paradoxes from my fingertips to my toes, nestling me in to the autumn song.
“This is my season,” she sang when I found myself distracted once more by the foot traffic and sales pitches thrown into the brick streets.
I came to her fully then, witness and student, ready to be reminded of everything I already knew, and grateful to be brought back from my months or more of forgetfulness.
She cast the circle with salt and smoke, and beckoned the elements in. She welcomed my presence and held out her hand, gripping me lightly as the light dimmed. The singing grew louder, the spirits arrived one at a time: the teachers, the elders, the council of healers, the guides and ancestors, the angels and gods; the wisdom bringers, the light keepers, the ancients and distant relations unknown. We all circled and smiled, welcoming each other to the singing up of Awe.
Of wonder and delight, we all sang a song; of gateways and doorways and thresholds and fall. Of Autumn’s return and the sun’s dying light, of rising descent and the wisdom of night. Of oceans and valleys and mountains and grass, with small creeping life and vast, deep expanse.
We sang of the holy and laughed at the mundane, recognizing and honoring that they are one and the same. God dwells there in Her sanctuaries and she stoops in the mud, offering tears to the wounds and weaving life in the blood.
October is for songs. Songs of enchantment, weaving magic under the skin. All beings can feel it, but not all beings welcome it in. The gateway is here, the door has opened wide. For the one who has eyes to see, the threshold beckons. Step over into magic, step over into night, step over into sweetness, step over with open eyes. The song of October will show you the way, get quiet enough to hear what it will say…
October is an enchantress, singing her spell and weaving her web. This way, she croons, with a wink and nod. There are messages and offerings to be heard and gathered in these waning weeks and thinning veils. Get quiet enough to hear them…