Listen to The Veil Thinning
The hills are full of colour, and the crisp air smells of woodsmoke and apples recently picked, of candle wax and memories. Life unfolds between harvest and rest, laughter and grief, presence and remembrance.
The thinning of the veil is celebrated on November 1st, beginning on the evening of October 31st. We call this time by many names: Samhain, Halloween, All Saints’ — three faces of the same great turning and remembering.
Samhain (pronounced /ˈsɑːwɪn, ˈsaʊɪn/; Irish: [ˈsˠəuɪnʲ] Scottish Gaelic: [ˈs̪ãũ.ɪɲ]) is ancient, some say over 2000 years old, others even over 5000.
It is definitely older than pumpkin spice lattes and costumes and older than the first harvest feast.
It marks the Celtic New Year, the page turning from harvest to rest. The moment in time when fields pause and fires start burning harder, when ancestors draw near and want a seat at the bountiful table, when life and death sit together, sharing stories, laughter, and sorrow.
This night is about honouring endings - of relationships, of seasons, of ways of being that no longer serve, making space for rest and renewal.
Ritual for the woman in midlife
Step outside, barefoot if you dare.
Feel the earth breathe beneath you.
Or take a long silent walk, gather leaves and twigs and acorns, and offer them to Mother Nature.
Be creative and build a small altar.
The world is simpler in Nature and the dark is sacred; it does not feel so scary.
Bring some of your new precious objects home and decorate your porch or your windowsill, as a way to create a place to release and begin again.
Go back in and light a candle to illuminate the path of the spirits.
Let the warmth and the glow welcome them.
Whisper the names of those you love who’ve moved into that quieter room.
Tell stories about them. Write down what weighs on you — old regrets, sorrow, guilt, unfinished business — and burn it safely.
Watch the smoke rise, carrying both grief and gratitude to the skies.
Samhain is stillness from the old continent. But can you hear its playful cousin over the pond?
When Celtic and Roman traditions mingled during the Roman Empire, Samhain rituals merged with Feralia (a Roman day honouring the dead) and Pomona (goddess of fruit and trees), giving rise to early Halloween customs.
Later, with the spread of Christianity, the night before All Saints’ Day became known as All Hallows’ Eve, eventually shortened to Halloween.
Immigrants brought these traditions to North America. Masks, laughter, mischief.
Maybe you dress up to scare away the ghosts, maybe you just want to show that joy and sorrow are kin. Carve the pumpkin with a wide grin and also leave out a treat for the departed tricksters. Laugh loudly and celebrate, because joy is as sacred as remembrance.
The morning after, the glow remains.
In my home, All Saints’ is a day for stories and gratitude, a soft space where tears and smiles coexist. We cook, bake and light candles. We visit the cemetery, offer food and drinks and tell tales that make us smile through the ache. Grief is indeed love insisting on being heard.
How do we settle into this season of stillness and listen, truly listen? Beyond any feast or ritual, we should give a precious gift, as old as time: our attention.
Guide your attention to the stirring season.
Tell your stories of loss and grief and joy at the same time. Watch the soft glow of the candle that lingers and with your loved ones, listen to the veil thinning.
Even enjoy the party. Life always wants to be witnessed.
Miha
P.S. If you have some grief you’re carrying, whether about a departed soul or about past versions of yourself, the Blue Chair is your safe container. 👉 Click here to know more & book your session
