Aligned & Awake: Flying on Samhain
At the threshold: Samhain, endings as offerings, and flight plans on broomsticks.
Aligned & Awake
My reflections on life through travel, human design, energy, astrology, and emotional clarity. Not as a guru. Just one person figuring it out in real time.
I arrived in Ireland in October and it’s been a mirror.
Rain that answers questions. Fields that know how to let go.
Old stones whispering about thresholds.
I’m here for Samhain “SOW-in” (like cow + in), the original Halloween.
In ancient Irish tradition, Samhain marked the end of the harvest and the start of the darker half of the year. The time when the boundaries thinned between this world and the other. Spirits, ancestors, change itself, all closer than usual.
I’m standing on the land where it all began. This month has asked me to pause. To look at what I’ve gathered this year. To see what I’ll carry into the dark season.
Tomorrow I board a flight, broomstick included, leaving this place in body but carrying it in spirit.
What Samhain is teaching me
Endings are not failures.
They’re invitations. When the harvest is done, you don’t mourn the field. You gather what grew. You clear the ground. Samhain was about that, the end of summer’s growth and the start of winter’s rest.
The dark season is fertile.
The ancients lit bonfires and took stock. The light turned inward. The darkness became an incubator.
We travel thresholds.
Ireland stands at a crossroads where myth and modernity meet in the same breath. Thresholds are powerful. Between what was and what will be, between summer’s clarity and winter’s mystery.
Bring in your ancestors and your visions.
Samhain honoured what was visible and what was unseen. Create a space, not a ritual, just a moment to meet your stories, your people, your future self.
Plant now, bloom later.
Seed work happens in the dark. In the pause. In the quietest moments. The sprout appears when the season calls it forward.
What this looks like in real life
Tonight, find three minutes of stillness. Ask yourself what you’re laying to rest this year. Then ask what small promise you’re carrying into the dark. Whisper it into the air.
This week, honour a closing. Send the message you’ve held back. Finish the thing that’s been waiting. Clear a corner and make room for what’s next.
On Samhain night, when others dress up scary, dress up as your future self. See how she moves, how she speaks and let her lead.
Keep your eyes open. The world of change speaks in small winks.
I’ll be watching for winks tomorrow night from the window seat.
If the aisle light flickers mid-flight, I’ll take it as a nod from the other side.
Standing between seasons is not a pause. It’s a passage.
And if you spot a witch on a red-eye tomorrow, wave. That’s me.
Tell me…
What are you ending this season? What promise are you carrying into the dark?
Ah-ha now I know how to pronounce it. Safe travels my friendly witch!