Many Worlds on Samhain and All Hallows Eve

Samhain or All Hallows Eve, known popularly as 'Hallowe'en' traditionally was the time in the year when the gates to other worlds were opened, allowing the living to communicate with their dead.

In contemporary Western culture, it is more of an excuse for costume parties, consumption of chocolate and general merrymaking than anything else. In the States, marketing figures show that consumers spend more on Hallowe'en decorations, costumes and food than they spend on any other festival.

Rather than setting a place at the table for the beloved dead, sitting on a grave mound to communicate with other worlds or otherwise being involved in any spiritual activities, it appears that Hallowe'en now is equated with 'horror' and the nastier aspects of the occult. Films depicting mass slaughter by lunatics or otherworldy creatures are popular at this time of year. The media runs marathons of 'horror' films of a type known as 'Grindhouse' films, a term that I initally thought referred to some awful tradition of using a meat grinder to dispose of the remains of murder victims but in fact refers to exploitation films without any artistic quality to recommend them.

Ghost stories always have been popular, even in ancient times. Beowulf is kind of a 'ghost story', albeit one that includes heroics and exceptional poetry. Folktales throughout the world speak of horrifying creatures fueled by bloodlust or a desire for revenge upon humanity. Nonetheless, I think it is a pity that a festival that originated in a tradition to honour the dead and explore the otherworld has degenerated mainly into a simplistic 'fear fest'.

The practice of 'trick or treat', on the other hand, is very ancient and deserves recognition in our culture, although some of the fun has been robbed by threats of poison and other abuses of ancient rites of hospitality. Dressing in costume likewise is a venerable and respected custom. It is simply the stark equation of 'Hallowe'en' with horror that needs some reformation in my view. A good tradition would be that of remembering dead friends and relations by sharing photograph albums and recounting favourite memories. At least, raise a glass in honour of the dead at some point on All Hallow's Eve, even if you follow that with a 'Grindhouse' marathon of films.

Interestingly enough, though, Samhain marked the time when animals would be slaughtered in order to prepare for the harsh Winter season. The reasons were twofold: animals who were slaughtered need not be fed through the barren months, and secondly, the meat could be salted and preserved for use until Spring.

Perhaps the emphasis on horror and mass slaughter at Hallowe'en harkens back to the old practice of sacrifice. Instead of making an actual ritual sacrifice of a human being, people watch it being enacted fictionally in a film. Could it be argued that the enactment of a sacrifice generates energy in the same way that a real sacrifice would? Certainly all the same emotions are engaged when the viewer watches the act in question: a combination of terror, excitement and in some cases, vicarious bloodlust. In ancient times, animals were subsituted at the last moment for the original human victim. Now, perhaps, we substitute virtual reality for the actual.
Were it done to propitiate the gods or 'spirits', why should any otherworldly being require real flesh and blood in sacrifice? Perhaps the ritual would suffice...

On a lighter note...

The photograph shows three dolls that have been popular in the States in the past century. The tiny 'Wee Patsy' doll is a modern Effanbee reproduction of a doll originally created by the Effanbee company in the 1930s. The large 14" doll is a Madame Alexander doll from 1948 with the lovely 'Margaret' face, dressed in a designer outfit by contemporary doll artist Robert Tonner. Barbie needs no introduction.

I believe that dressing dolls for holidays is a good way to celebrate any festival. It was something that my mother did when I was a child and I inherited my love of dolls and doll clothes from her. It can be very therapeutic as well. If one does not own a beautiful house with all luxury furnishings, one can decorate a doll's house, achieving harmony and perfection in miniature. In some cultures in fact, this practice was considered to be a form of sympathetic magic. By furnishing a miniature home with specific items and placing a doll in it, one created a 'wish' and imbued it with power. Many tombs in fact contain miniature dwellings, completely furnished, with tiny figures representing the dead to inhabit them.

I wouldn't go THAT far with these dolls but it is rather satisfying to create an attractive doll portrait for Hallowe'en.

Hail the Victorious Dead!

With all the costumes, sweeties and general celebrations that occur at Hallowe'en now, it is easy to lose sight of its real significance. It is the Day of the Dead, a day of remembrance, even of making contact with those who have passed through the veils to the hereafter.

There is a rather moving scene in Peter Jackson's 'Lord of the Rings' that occurs in the Great Hall of the kingdom of Rohan. The horse lords of Rohan are the closest to traditional ancient Anglo-Saxon society and in true Anglo-Saxon style, a cup is raised to 'The Victorious Dead!'

The 'Victorious Dead' are those in particular who gave their lives in the struggle against the enemies of Rohan but it is the invitation to the Dead to participate in the celebration that touches my heart.

In the majority of contemporary Western societies, we do not invite our dead to join us at the dining table. We do not raise a toast to them on a regular basis nor do we allow them to participate in any of our daily rituals.

It is different in some Asian societies where shrines to the beloved dead have a place of honour in homes and there is regular, even ordinary communion with the departed.

What happened to us that we fail to keep the lines of communication open between the worlds?

Part of it may be the fault of the tendency of some organised religions to focus on the 'life hereafter' to the exclusion almost of THIS life. The dead, if they have been virtuous or fortunate, go to a 'better place' when they 'shuffle off this mortal coil'. Pursuant to this attitude, it therefore would be rather wrong to try to entice them back to the nightmare of THIS world and THIS life. Who would spend time on Earth if they belonged in paradise?

Many ancient religions, however, perceived the hereafter as a sort of continuation of this world and this life. Despite certain tests or ordeals that the deceased had to pass, the life of the hereafter was believed to be rather mundane.

Many religions supported the idea of 'intercession' as well. In Asian and Western traditions alike, the deceased had power to intercede with divine powers or agents on behalf of the living. This belief obviously would encourage regular communion with the dead, both in the form of prayer and of thanksgiving.

I do not pretend to know where the dead go or what becomes of them, but I do think it is important to have some kind of remembrance of those we love who no longer walk this earth. I therefore would like to take this opportunity to mention some of my beloved dead.

My maternal grandfather, who died when I was 10 years old. He was an artist and as the eldest grandchild, I probably knew him better than most of my generation. I was shocked and slightly traumatised by his death, not only because it was my first experience of death in my own family but because of the effect it had on my mother. I saw him in an open coffin and I attended the funeral. It seemed very odd afterwards to go back to school and continue an ordinary life. In particular, having witnessed and participated in the mourning rituals and hysterical weeping in some cases of his daughters, it surprised me a little that THEY could resume the threads of their lives almost without any transition. I believe that was because I was a child, and did not quite understand how grief worked. Seeing my mother prostrated by it was very traumatic, but to see her recover almost instantly (in my limited perception, remember... I doubt she recovered in truth) was bewildering.

After the death of my grandfather, I went to Asia, where I experienced quite a lot of death firsthand. I witnessed both the death of people I knew and those I did not know. I saw animals slaughtered, watched as medical operations were performed, and watched as bodies were burned on the ghat. No death of close family or friends there, however but I was changed forever by those experiences.

My own father, who died when I was thirteen years old. This was a black hole situation for me, as I was not given a chance to see him before he died, nor to attend a funeral, nor to mourn at his grave. It was like an eclipse of the sun, and yet one that occurred at night. There was nowhere to go with it. My mother had remarried. Our lives went on, but I was truly devastated. I think I would have recovered faster if I had been able to express my grief, but it seemed almost impolite to make a fuss in a household over which another man presided.

My first real fiance, who was killed during summer holidays at University. He went 'home', although 'home' is a euphemism when one is dealing with people who are condemned to eternal exile from their true homes. He was not an active participant in the War but it was enough that he existed to make him a target.

Later, another fiance who committed suicide with a deliberate drug overdose when things became too difficult. He was too young to recognise that 'dishonour' can be less burdensome to family and friends than permanent loss. That death hit me very hard. It seemed to me that I was not worth enough to keep him on this earth. Now, I am a little wiser and more 'grounded' where my own self-worth is concerned, but at the age of eighteen, his suicide almost took me with him.

A very close friend who truly died a 'hero's death', who chose to fight rather than waiting for death to come to him. It is this friend whom I would salute in the toast: 'To the Victorious Dead!' His example gives me faith and hope when I become disillusioned with selfishness, greed and corruption among those who claim to be honourable and who claim to live for a cause.

A few years later, another close friend whose death could have been suicide but could have been due to negligence and surrender to despair. We were no longer together. His lack of emotional equilibrium and hot temper were too difficult for me to weather after a point, but after his death, a part of me wondered for a long time if I could have 'saved' him, even though I knew that only he could have saved himself if he had chosen a different path.

My best friend, some one who was about 15 years older than I, who died alone and in terrible pain a couple of years ago because he refused to let any one know that he was dying. It was his choice. He always had spoken of it as the way in which he would choose to die, at home alone rather than in hospital. Even so, this friend was the mainstay of my life in many ways, some one who acted like a guardian angel for a decade, some one on whom I could have relied in any emergency. I was shocked by his death and I felt that I should have known somehow, should have done something... There was no romantic relationship between us, but he was more like family than any one else in my life. I still have not recovered entirely.

There are many others who have died but these are the ones whose deaths never cease to resonate in my soul.

I do not expect any one to read this really, but I feel it is right to mention my own dead at this time of year. Wherever they are or are not, I would like to think that they would not find a place in my memory and heart forever.

This may be the most personal post I ever write!

Celebrating the Urabon Festival and Toronagashi

The Urabon or Bon Festival is a Buddhist festival that is celebrated in the middle of August in Japan. Like the ancient European festival of Samhain at the end of October, it is believed that during this time the spirits of the ancestors return to this world in order to visit their families. It is said that the iron pot of hell is opened to allow the dead to return to this world.

Lanterns are placed in front of houses in order to guide the ancestors to their homes. Dances known as bon odori are performed, graves are visited and offerings of food are made both at temples and at altars in the home.

The food offerings are an integral part of the rituals and include rice, vegetables, fruits, cakes, sweets and flowers. Special foods are served to visitors as well.

The festival culminates usually with a very touching and dramatic ceremony known as Toronagashi wherein floating lanterns are placed in the waters of streams, lakes and/or the ocean in order to guide the ancestor spirits back to their world.

Unable to travel to Japan to participate or witness this festival, I was overjoyed when I was able to participate in it virtually in Second Life. Last night was the night of the Toronagashi, the final ritual of the festival.

Arriving at the virtual Japanese sim of Amatsu Mitsukai at twilight, I overheard a woman weeping as she told her companion about the recent death of a loved one. At the landing place, billboards advertised traditional food offerings and a rickshaw offered a tour of the area.

We walked instead through a mall containing a number of Japanese shops that sold clothing, weapons and other items to reach a rather imposing building with a notice welcoming visitors. Inside were beautifully apportioned rooms with paintings on the walls. One had to pass through the house to reach the gardens.

The gardens were breathtaking, featuring an elegant gazebo and a traditional arched bridge leading to the edge of the water. A small stream flowed from a mountaintop and it was there that the Toronagashi ceremony took place.

A notice next to the stream invited visitors to say a prayer for the dead before launching a paper boat into the water. As the sun set over the sea and colourful birds swooped down over the brilliantly-coloured trees and plants, I actually began to believe that I was in Japan again. As I said a prayer for my father before launching the first boat, I realised that the prayer as well as the ritual was very real. I understood very well why the woman had been weeping...

A ceremony of commemoration like this always carries an element of mourning and sorrow, but with the bittersweet remembrance of our loved ones is a benediction of peace.

I felt privileged to be able to participate in a Toronagashi ceremony, even if only in a virtual Japanese setting in Second Life. It was a magical experience I shall not forget and I wonder if it would have been any more significant to me in Japan. After all, part of the value of any experience is what we ourselves bring to it.

Incidentally, traditional geisha training is given at Amatsu Mitsukai. I met a talented artist named Pop Handrick who is studying to be a geisha. At present, she is only Shikomi. One of the many lessons taught is humility. It is interesting to see how different individuals respond to the possibilities that exist in Second Life. For some, SL is an opportunity to be masters or mistresses of their own destiny. For others, true satisfaction is found in obedience and humility. Of course, it is not as simple as that for any one. All human beings are multi-faceted and part of the attraction of Second Life is the ability to shapeshift at will.

Sitting on a Mound

It is curious to find that, throughout all the academic works that deal with the ancient tale of the Descent of Inanna or Ishtar to the Underworld, no one appears to have mentioned the obvious: communion with the dead.

The extraordinary tale of the Great Queen who abandons this world in order to journey down the 'one-way road' is most compelling perhaps when it is perceived as a spiritual vision quest, rather like Odhinn's shamanic trials, all undertaken for the sake of knowledge and wisdom.

Odhinn hanged himself from the World-Tree Yggdrasil, 'myself a sacrifice to my self'. He pierced his side with his spear, letting the blood flow freely, then spent nine nights on the tree awaiting the moment of Illumination. When it came, 'screaming he took up the Runes'. This is the tale that explains how the Runes came into being.

In another tale, Odhinn travels to the Well of Urdh at the roots of Yggdrasil and asks for a drink of the sacred waters. The price is high: he must pluck out his own eye and offer it as sacrifice. He does so without hesitation. Nowhere is there any tale of Odhinn's cowardice or reluctance in the face of danger. There are those who say that this tale represents an essential truth: that by placing his eye in the Well of Wisdom, he gained vision of the Unseen realms and the world of the unconscious.

In any event, the tale of Inanna's descent represents a personal tale of spiritual enlightenment to most contemporary readers and indeed, like all great myths and fairytales, it can have many different valid interpretations.

At the heart of this tale, however, is an ancient ritual for the dead. In many civilisations, it was believed that the dead were not entirely absent from this world. Even when an afterlife in some Paradise existed, it was believed that the dead could be summoned to communicate with the living.

The tale of Mot and Ba'al depicts the All-father El himself presiding over a funeral feast for the dead. In similar fashion, the ostensible reason for Inanna's journey to the Underworld is in order to attend a funeral ritual for her sister's husband, the 'Bull of Heaven'.

Evidently, there were rituals of preparation that had to occur. As Inanna passed each gate, she was stripped of another piece of regalia, another symbol of power. When she finally arrived at the palace of Ereshkigal, she was naked.

Iceland is a place where old Northern European pagan beliefs endured longer than anywhere else. The practice of 'sitja a haugi' in old Norse ('to sit on a howe') was widespread in the old pagan North but is described mainly in Icelandic sagas.

An old law code of Norway describes the practice of 'útiseta' or útiseta at vekja troll upp': 'to sit out and wake up the dead'. It appears that 'útiseta' was a general shamanic ritual designed to gain esoteric wisdom, but sitting on the howes of one's ancestors was a more specific quest to communicate with the spirits of one's own dead.

I had intended simply to post the old tales on my site, but when I began to think about this ancient almost universal practice, it occurred to me how far and remote we are in contemporary Western society from OUR dead.

Is it any wonder that people are so insecure, so desperate for a guide, when Death has become such a stranger to our daily lives? Some of us do not have any physical access whatsoever to the graves of our ancestors on a regular basis. Travel and 'urban sprawl' have distanced graveyards and cemetaries from the people who have any emotional or familial tie to them.

Gone are the days when the dead were placed in the centre of the parlour or other chamber of a private home for viewing. Death has become a bureaucratic nightmare in Western civilisation for the most part.

In many civilisations, small hills or mountains were constructed as homes for the dead. As part of the Earth and yet apart from the earth, these mounds still dot the landscapes in many different lands. They served to give renown to the family of the deceased, naturally but they had a far greater significance. They were the site of ritual events designed to link this world with the next.

In contemporary Western society, we tend to fear Death. Death is perceived as 'unnatural', a fate to be avoided as long as possible. How can a society based on fear of Death have any valid basis when every single member WILL be obliged to face Death sooner or later?

Governments actually legislate against death, banning suicide and suicide pacts, banning 'mercy killings' and punishing those who dare to act on the principle that quality of life is more important than life itself.

Those who believe truly in a life after Death should not fear Death, for according to most religions, the Afterlife offers something far better than THIS world. Yet most individuals in the West, even when their religions extol the virtues of the Afterlife, are almost desperate to avoid it.

The ancient Romans placed the death masques of their ancestors on their walls. The ancient Celts collected human skulls. The ancient Sumerians, Babylonians and Canaanites held ritual feasts for their dead. If one sups with Death on a regular basis, one cannot fear him too much.

Moreover, there is a certain ineffable peace and stillness in places that are consecrated to the dead. It is no wonder really that poets and philosophers have haunted graveyards and mounds when seeking inspiration.

In the North, government assemblies actually met often on burial mounds. The leader or king would be given the place of honour at the top of the mound. As far as rituals of 'mound sitting' are concerned, however, they essentially involved solitary communion with the spirits of the dead.

When Inanna began her journey to the Underworld, she took leave of her closest companion and servant, giving her detailed instructions as to what she should do should the Queen fail to return. Most shamanic rituals are solitary ones, but there usually is some one who watches over the shaman from a distance, making certain of his/her return.

Inanna took the 'one-way road' fully intending to return. In the tale of Mot and Ba'al, the lord of the Dead visits the living at their banquet, but then commands that the living lord attend him at HIS feast in the Underworld.

These ancient rituals were performed for the benefit of all society. There was a deep sense of connection between the worlds: between the sky, the mountain and the pit beneath the mountain. Like the ancient Egyptians who constructed vast artificial mountains in the forms of pyramids, the ancient mounds were created as a focal point for a meeting of the worlds.

Another reason I believe that the tale of Inanna's descent deals with an ancient mound and a ritual for the dead is the name used for her destination. An Akkadian
version of the tale begins: 'To Kurnugi, land of no return...' The Sumerian version speaks of 'Neti, gatekeeper of the Kur'. Kur originally signified 'Mountain'. Later, it signified the Mountain that was the entrance to the Underworld, through which the 'river of Death' flowed.

The entrance to Mot's palace was in a mountain. In fact, there is an old tale about Canaan that predicts a time in the future when the old god Mot will arise and burst forth from his mountain to destroy the invaders of his land.

In old Europe, it was at the feast of Samhain that the gates between the worlds opened. Hallowe-en originally signified a sacred ritual for the dead, a means by which the living remembered and communicated with their loved ones and ancestors.

What has become of this sense of community? Perhaps contemporary 'alienation' is partly caused by the rift between life and death in our society. Surely an individual who believes himself or herself to be part of an unbroken line that stretches from past to present and into the future cannot ever feel entirely abandoned or alone.

I am not a morbid person by nature but I do envy the Ancients their easy familiarity with Death. After all, any of us could be fated to face Death at any moment.