‘Tis the season… to shout out, “I’m still here!”

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Out of the Broomcloset photo
Out of the Broomcloset photo by Leon Calafiore

Out of the Broomcloset 

So here we are Dearies, another year ending; as most readers of this column are aware, for many of us Pagan, or “paganish” folk, Samhain/All Hallows/Halloween is kind of a big deal, with rituals to welcome the… Dark Half of the Year. Some of us will honor the ancestors, whether by bloodline or by other sincere bonds, casting off in some way the unnecessary or burdensome to make it through the fallow times. At the same time, and in whatever way one might to weave the stands together, is the popular merriment of costumes, masks, gatherings, monsters, and candy, candy, candy.

all of 2020 has become some perverse dress rehearsal for Samhain?

Need I point out to anyone reading this that all of 2020 has become some perverse dress rehearsal for Samhain? We’ve an overabundance of dearly departed to think upon, to offer our attention. Mask, we got them covered, hah! Too many have been forced to consider how to get through the day, the week, on and on; pay the rent, or eat? Will the job still be there? What needs to be ignored, curtailed?

Yes, we have muddling through with diminished resources pretty well sorted; and if this has not been your situation, congrats, how nice for Eve (for the youngsters and the straights, this is a reference to All About Eve, Betty Davis movie; watch it, and learn; learning “camp” is learning survival).

As for gatherings, need I point out we’ve had more than enough practice for those; not for our amusement, our delectation however, but as a cry for justice, justice too long denied, still denied (would it be too much to hope for the same response, in some measure, for murders in our Trans community; this is not and either or question).

As for monsters; do I really need to point out who they are among us? At least Universal Pictures could portray a monster for which we might have some empathy; those that walk among us now display their banal monstrosity with pride, and on every media platform. They no longer hide their true form (not a witch among them, I hope). Might it not be time for the peasants to storm the castle?

So, here we are, if you’ve followed along paragraph after paragraph (hopefully, cocktail in hand, because, if 2020 has supported anything, other than undertakers, it’s been the, ahem, potable things in life; as a good Bible reader would remember, as things fell apart daily; “Eat, Drink, and be Merry; for tomorrow, We Die” (yes, I know that this is a popular conflation of several biblical verses, did you? Many of us are conversant in Scripture, not only to contend with adversaries, but for the spell work potential; you have read this column before, haven’t you)?

I’m afraid that this issue’s column will, once again, alas, lack the “do this spell, and ‘X’ should occur in time.” Frankly, it’s been a year of performing daily, small Magicks to keep everything from completely falling apart here in our region.

Sometimes, all you can do is strain to let some things survive amongst the rubble. After the dust clears, sometimes, you can rescue what survives, and build something new. No matter who your antecedents are, wherever they came from, whatever they did, the result is, each of us is still here.

The spirit of this season is survive, strive, sort through the rubble, and make something new. In Magick, the question is always (if you survive), what did this teach you, not self-pity. So, unlike the rambling Fascists and their Convention, on the screen, as I write this, let us pass through the Dark Times, rescuing what we can for a brighter future.

I suggest we all hit the streets on Halloween, the Full Moon, and quote Stephen Sondheim, as an invocation for the season (God to his fans), and shout out; “I’m Still Here” (it’s a song from Follies for you who weren’t in Drama Club; learn the lyrics, be the lyrics). And make your vote count, dammit!

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