Smiling at the Beauty of Our Own Mortality: A Samhain Reflection
Embracing the Darker Half of the Year
I’m not going to lie — I’m actually loving this time of year. It makes me smile to think back to an earlier version of myself who once dreaded it. As the air cooled, nights lengthened, and nature began her descent into stillness, I used to feel anxious and uneasy. But something has shifted. Now, as we cross the threshold into Samhain, the Celtic New Year, I feel a quiet excitement.
For many of us here in the northern hemisphere, this darker half of the wheel can feel heavy or uncertain — yet within that unknowing lies deep wisdom. When we move gently with nature’s rhythm, we remember: nothing truly ends; it transforms.
Honouring the Cycles of Death and Rebirth
Since the Autumn Equinox, we’ve been spiralling deeper into the darker half of the year. The air cools, the light fades, and nature begins her descent into rest. For some, this shift can feel unsettling — a reminder of endings, of slowing down, of death. Yet if we look closely, we see that nature is not dying… she is transforming.
The trees release their leaves not from loss, but from wisdom — conserving energy, allowing those fallen leaves to nourish the soil where new life will grow. There is intelligence in this surrender. A rooting. A remembering. And within that fertile darkness, the promise of rebirth.
The Wisdom of Samhain
In the Celtic tradition, Samhain marks the New Year — a time to release the old, to honour death as part of life, and to open to new beginnings. As we step into this mysterious darkness, we might ask ourselves:
✨ What am I ready to let go of?
✨ What needs to die so that something new can be born?
It could be a pattern of thought that drains your energy, a relationship that no longer feels aligned, or an old story that keeps you small. Perhaps these ways of being aren’t even ours — perhaps they belong to our ancestors. And perhaps, too, their gifts live on in us. Both truths can coexist.
Across the world, cultures honour this sacred threshold — Samhain, Diwali, Día de los Muertos — all celebrating the dance of light and darkness, life and death. The veil between worlds is thin, and if we listen, we may feel the whispers of those who came before us: in synchronicities, sensations, or quiet reminders that we are never truly alone.
Remembering Our Ancestors
Our ancestors lived in deep relationship with the land. The fire that provided warmth and light, the earth that fed them, the harvest that sustained them — all were sacred. Their proximity to death deepened their reverence for life. And perhaps this is what we are remembering now.
Samhain , meaning ‘Summers End’
Last night, I held a Samhain Women’s Circle, and it was profoundly moving — to sit in candlelight, to hear stories of ancestry, grief, remembrance, and reconnection. To feel the beauty of being witnessed and held in community. It reminded me how essential it is to gather — to share our stories, to remember we are never alone.
No matter where we come from or the families we were born into, we are all connected. And perhaps, to love the land we are on, to care for our communities, and to act with kindness — that is enough.
The Invitation of the Dark
Samhain reminds us to slow down.
To shed the busy “to-do” list.
To return to nourishment, stillness, and presence.
To tend to this version of ourselves that is emerging, season by season.
As we step into the fertile dark — the womb of winter — may we allow death to teach us how to live.
May we smile at the beauty of our own mortality.
And may we trust that from every ending, something new will be born.
Simple Samhain Rituals to Honour Death & Rebirth
Samhain invites us into ritual — to honour the cycle of life, death, and renewal through presence, intention, and remembrance. These practices are simple ways to reconnect with nature, your ancestors, and the wisdom of the dark.
🕯️ Light a Candle for Your Ancestors
Create a small altar or sacred space — perhaps with photos, objects, or symbols that remind you of those who came before you. This could be family members, teachers, guides, or even ancestral lands and traditions you feel connected to.
Light a candle and take a few deep breaths. Speak their names aloud, or whisper softly, “thank you.”
Feel the warmth of the flame as a bridge between worlds — fire as the element that transforms, carries prayer, and illuminates darkness.
You might say:
“With this light, I honour those who walked before me.
Thank you for your strength, your lessons, your dreams.
May your wisdom live through me, and may I walk in beauty.”
Spend a few moments in stillness, sensing their presence in the room, in your breath, or within your heartbeat.
🍂 Release What’s Ready to Fall Away
Just as trees shed their leaves, this is your invitation to release. Write down any habits, beliefs, or attachments that feel heavy or draining — patterns that no longer serve the person you are becoming.
When you’re ready, offer these words to the elements:
Fire: Burn the paper safely, watching the smoke rise and transform your release into prayer.
Earth: Bury it in the soil, allowing nature to compost what’s old into nourishment for what’s new.
As you do, repeat softly:
“I let go with love.
I return this energy to the earth,
to be transformed into fertile ground for new beginnings.”
Feel the spaciousness that opens within you — a clearing, a fertile emptiness.
🌰 Nourish Your Body
Honouring death and rebirth also means caring for the vessel that carries you through these cycles.
This is the season for rooting — warming foods, slow meals, gentle rest.
Create a simple ritual of nourishment:
Sip cacao, giving thanks to the Earth and the hands that cultivated it.
Brew a herbal tea with grounding plants such as nettle, cinnamon, or rosemary.
Cook with intention — stir love and gratitude into your food, seeing it as medicine.
As you eat, affirm:
“I am nourished by the Earth.
I receive her gifts with gratitude and care.”
This is an act of magic in itself — a spell of presence, a reminder that nourishment is sacred.
💫 Dream in the Dark
Samhain is the fertile void — the womb of winter where seeds dream unseen beneath the soil. Allow yourself to rest in that space.
Light a candle or sit beneath the moon, journal in hand, and invite your inner voice to speak.
Ask yourself:
What is longing to be born through me?
What parts of myself want to be seen in the coming year?
If I were to be reborn, what kind of world would I wish to awaken into?
You may wish to close your journal with an affirmation or small spell such as:
“In this fertile darkness, I plant the seeds of my becoming.
May they grow strong and true when the light returns.”
Place your journal, a crystal, or a natural object (like an acorn or leaf) on your altar as a symbol of your new beginnings.
🌿 Optional Earth-Based Additions
If you feel called, you can deepen these rituals by connecting more tangibly with the elements and your lineage:
Offerings to the Earth: Scatter herbs, grains, or petals outdoors as a gesture of gratitude.
Ancestral Places: Visit a landscape or natural space that feels familiar — it may hold ancestral resonance.
Objects of Memory: Hold an heirloom, a piece of jewelry, or even soil or water from your homeland — let it be a bridge between you and those who came before.
Sound as Prayer: Sing, hum, or drum softly — sound carries intention through the unseen realms.
As we honour Samhain and the turning of the year, may we remember that darkness is not to be feared but embraced — a sacred space for rest, reflection, and renewal. In the stillness, we return to what matters most: connection, community, and presence with the life that moves through us.
If this season is calling you inward, I’d love to welcome you into one of my offerings — spaces to root, release, and remember alongside others walking this path. From Samhain circles that honour our ancestors, to community nature walks that reconnect us to the land, and cosy sound journeys that soothe and restore — each is an invitation to slow down, breathe, and listen to the quiet wisdom within.
Explore upcoming ReNurture offerings here
With warmth and blessings from the fertile dark,
Ruth @ReNurture