The Spirits of October

a devotional for fall

Photo by Karolina Badzmierowska on Unsplash

the spirits of October
are rising beneath the buckwheat stalks
empty-eyed and arms full;

the busy songbirds
are harvesting
around their sodden feet.

too late, too late!
they cry, 
desperate to be heard
above the swiftly cooling breeze;

but the songbirds
merely tilt their heads,
flutter their wings,

for there is too much work
to be done
and time
is falling
down.

Welcome, all, to October! My apologies that this devotional reaches you a few hours later than usual; I was, myself, a busy songbird this weekend, and something had to give so that I could get some proper sleep. 

But here we are, stepping into the month of October.

Candidly, I used to have quite a fraught relationship with this season. I hated Hallowe’en because I only saw the rampant consumerism and the danger of its prankster associations, and I found no poetry in the darkness and dread of the ever-dimming end of the year. October was simply something to “get through”, a drizzly, dismal doorway. 

But over the last ten or so years, my feelings toward this season and its most famous holiday have shifted completely, and it has a lot to do with my interest in ghosts, spirits, and ancestry. 

Here in the United States I would venture to say that we don’t have a very productive relationship with death, grief, and those we loved who leave us. Either we relegate it all to “too morbid to talk about”, or we (perhaps) fetishize and sterilize it to the point where it loses meaning. But all throughout history, humans have reckoned with death and those who have died in various ways, and there is great treasure to be found in a healthy understanding of how the people who have gone before us have shaped us.

October is, for me, a perfect time to meditate on these things. To pull out the old family photos, to bake from old family recipes, to use tools and utensils that my ancestors made and touched. To dig deeply into ancestral skills, to learn more about Who I Am because of Who They Were. And at Hallowe’en, I have found great solace in setting a table for the beloved dead, not to idolize them but to thank them for the role they played in making me…well…me. (But we’ll explore more of that later in the month.)

So begins the season of reckoning with our ghosts.

May God bless us as we travel these shadowed roads.

Discussion Question

What is your relationship with October and Hallowe’en like? Do you love the spooky season, the fall foods, the impending dark? Or do you dislike and resist it, maybe even hate it? What are your favorite things? What are your least favorite things? 

(And though none of you need reminders because you’re always so lovely, please engage especially graciously in the comment section for this question; preferences can be deeply personal things, so please be willing to let others like/dislike things! Seek first to understand.)

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