Distractions Abound

Costumes, candy, pumpkin carving, horror. That seems to be what embodies the spirit of Halloween, right? The time of year when it is a-okay to disguise yourself and go a-knocking on random people's doors in search of something sweet. Or to play tricks on friends and neighbors with the intent of frightening them and laughing about it.

Modern holidays do tend to have a shred of truth in them. A truth that gets emphasized, exaggerated and molded to become more of a marketable consumer experience, perhaps with an afterthought of connection or community.

It has been a rather dour turn of events that serves to disconnect the populace from its' inherent power. Not to mention planting a highly charged competition for power and attention in the shrouded capes of the whole affair.

In the case of Halloween, All Hallow's Eve, there is a feeble thread from dressing up in costumes to the ancient practices of summoning the spirits, building bonfires to cleanse the land, and making offerings to the ancestors. Traditions older than the church have been aware of and actively recognizing this portal from the end of October through early November for eons.

This well-walked path of consciousness is available for anyone who energetically tunes into the rhythms of the earth, the stars, and their own hearts during this period.

There is something magically alive in the crisp, bright nights of Autumn, while the trees are displaying an illuminating array of color before dropping their leaves and preparing for the dormancy of Winter. The stars seem to shine with special radiance, and the breeze carries voices from realms beyond. Senses are heightened, days are darker, nights are longer, and the spirits are alive.

Where do our ancestors go after they've left their physical bodies?

What about their spirits?

Do they not live on in dreams, thoughts, and hearts?

Do they wait for us, pray for us, guide us while we continue to walk this Earthly plane?

Do their hearts shower us with love as we honor their presence, just as they honor ours?

These remembrances are always alive and available, especially so on the first of November, its' eve, and the surrounding moon cycles.

This is a season of connection beyond the physical. A time for attuning to ancestral voices, the tunes of our spirit guides, and the whispers of our own shadows.

Who you are matters. You have come here for a reason. You are a unique thread in the tapestry of life. This is a dynamic time to remember, and to receive streams of information that are here to uplift and inspire your journey.

So... what is a presidential election doing right in the midst of this spirit portal?

Why are there concerted attempts to capture my attention and focus on the loud narrative of who the next president of this country will be? Why are most of these endeavors full of violence, competition, and claims of rightness and superiority? Are any of these people going to really care about me? Do they have the power to save the country? Who is going to turn my life around???

Well, I am.

My community is. The land is. Our hearts will.

The thing is: we don't actually need saving. We have some needs, like more perennial seeds, and cedar for a sauna, and someone who loves building tiny houses. They will all come in time, regardless of who sits in an oval office.

But saving? That’s an illusion. It’s an even bigger stretch to get people to believe that one person ruling over millions actually cares about each one of its’ constituents. Or to believe that the agenda built by billion-dollar marketing campaigns is actually going to be instituted in a timely manner that will change lives instantaneously. They all do things we do not like, and probably even that they do not like! They are not the decision makers.

What they do in that building is like a fly on the wall. It would be preferable to not have it zooming around annoyingly, stepping its' shit-covered feet on my food and every surface in my house. And yet, it cannot really hurt me. It is a highly, highly unlikely chance that I am going to die or get seriously affected by the presence of an obnoxious fly.

That's the election.

The "candidates" are two sides of the same coin. One might be rogue, and not always under control, but they are both puppets of a power system more grand than their position. The person who occupies the big white house in the capital has no power over me, or you, unless it is given to them.

That is a reality we all have the choice to opt into. It is not for the faint of heart, as it requires you, or me, to take on all the power and responsibility for ourselves. It means there is no one coming to save me. There is no one person who can initiate all the sweeping changes that would create world-wide freedom. It means I accept that my thoughts, ideas and feelings are what creates my world, and I am the only one with complete and total access to my mind.

This is freedom. This is sovereignty. This is a key to a fulfilling, purposeful life.

On February 22, 2022, I wrote down a list of my dreams.

It included an existing homestead or nature retreat, with buildings already on the land. There were at least eleven acres, with trees, abundant crystalline drinking water, and a supportive community.

During the solstices and equinoxes, and the midpoints between them, I would envision what my life would feel like when these dreams had come to fruition.

I worked on business plans, I read books on gardening and natural building, and I talked to people who lived similar lives. I wired my subconscious to believe that this was all fully possible. Anytime a sticky thought would surface that told me this was unrealistic, impossible, or not worth working for, I would give it space to express the fears it held. The doubts and uncertainties faded away in a steady stream of love and trust.

On June 24, 2024, I moved into my sweet, cozy yurt on a 40-acre farm and retreat center. I became the caretaker of this land, with its’ century-old stone barn, multiple gardens, a path that wound through the ancient pines, oaks, maples and birches, and an artesian well that supplied all the water.

The spiritual community that had been taking care of the farm for twenty years was ready for a transition, to have more rentals and retreats, musical events, farm-to-table engagements, and I was being asked to help make all this happen.

No part of this dream was made possible because of the president, or any part of the political system.

This reality was seeded entirely in my own consciousness, and then woven into being through prayer, trust, and active co-creation with the realms of spirit.

We are much more powerful than we collectively realize.

My heart is sending a steady beam to those who are feeling tight, constrained and upset as a result of the political agenda, and my heart also invites those same beings into a remembered feeling of loving empowerment. A powerful reminder that we make our lives what they are. The world is changing, and we can choose where we put our energy to make the landing as soft and graceful as possible.

Personally, I am going to keep tending the gardens, growing soul-nourishing food, and inviting people to come sit on the moss in forest clearings with me, soaking in the sun and creating paradise with our hearts and hands.

(And also, doing the work of soul integration, meeting our shadows, feeling the spectrum of emotions, coming face-to-face with the fears that keep us small, and finding the courage to create beauty in these transformational times.)

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Megan Katherine is part-human, faery, starchild, artist, designer, cook, ceremonialist & alchemist. She lives in a yurt in the Northwoods, and is supporting the transformation of a tired retreat center into a thriving nature sanctuary for seekers. She offers soul alchemy sessions to support greater awareness, wholeness and empowerment.
Reach out at hello@fairfolkcreations.com