Dear Friends:

Are we scared enough yet?

We humans seem to like scaring ourselves – as Bugs Bunny famously said to his orange monster, "You Monsters lead such interesting lives… Monsters are interesting… "

Isn't it interesting that the Monster's name is Gossamer?

Merriam–Webster definition, gossamer:  Noun: Cobwebs spun by small spiders, seen especially in autumn; something very light, thin, or insubstantial.  Adjective: extremely light, delicate or tenuous.

Samhain. Halloween.  The Celtic New Year. The season for remembering those who have passed on - The Ancestors.  Those loved and lost.  The veil between worlds is thinnest now, making contact between the past and present easiest.

How did ancient peoples, Pagans, grasp this concept? A crucial turning point between seasons thinning the fabric of space-time, allowing openings between worlds?

This season celebrates Hecate, the Triple Goddess - maiden, mother, crone, who symbolized the full circle: life, death and rebirth.  She rules over The Crossroads.  She was patronized by midwives – those who see us through the birth passage.  During the Middle Ages, vilified by the Catholic Church, she became know as Queen of Witches.

Our world stage seems increasingly violent and cartoon-like. Monsters acting out have real consequences. So do your decisions; so does your vote.

We stand at The Crosssroads.

From that center, the monster's power is tenuous; smoke and mirrors, fog, a frayed veil — gossamer.


Samhain - October 31, 2018

Welcome to my Crossroads.

I've got this unfair reputation – harsh
bitchy task-maker;
but I remind you all - the crossroads that you face  
you made yourself.
There's a price to pay
each time you change direction,
a birth and death
involved in every choice.
Some things never seem to change;
do those in power ever tire of their plundering?
Does the mourning mother's grief never end?
But there's an end to everything:
Planets; nations; love affairs.
Everything's a cycle
and there's an end to everything;
even men who rape and change their names.

You once left honey and black lambs
at my crossroads; here I am.
Lion, Dog and Mare
all summoned me to meet you there.
At these Crossroads, my domain,
your heart's desire you once did name.

Puzzled by which way to go?
Dance at my Crossroads;
your heart should know.

Excerpts from Hecate's monologues; stage play in progress.    ©Margaret McCarthy