November in Ireland, the time of remembering and slowing down

Did you carve a pumpkin this year?  The tradition in Ireland was always to carve a jack-o-lantern turnip, but it’s a tough auld job, even if we have cheated by boiling the turnip a bit first! Whether you carved a turnip or a pumpkin, it takes time…

But now the halloween traditions have hardly been observed and there are Christmas lights strung across shop windows and available to buy with the myriad of Christmas treats and reminders to buy on Black Friday and to get the popular toys now before they are sold out!  What a rush, and have we forgotten the traditions and signposts that November has for us?

In Ireland, November has its own name… Samhain… It is the month to remember all those who went before.  Without them, we would not be here and the festival of Halloween or Oíche Shamhna that Ireland gifted to the world would not exist.  The Seandaoine, Elders, said it was a time to remember those who went before, not just for one night, but for the whole month of November, to welcome them in and to be aware that this is the month when the veil between the planes is thin, when ancestors are more likely to make a visit.  

The fire, banked down

In our family, we lived in one another’s pockets and picked up the lived tradition in the rhythm of our daily lives.  On the first of November, we would go to mass for All Saints day, the ordinary saints, good people who had left their mark on our lives.  On this day we would pick up the list for the dead, and My Mam (and her mother before her) would name out and write down all of the people they wanted remembered in their prayers in November.  I have completed my list for this year, and both my Mam, Annie and her Mam Ellen are included in it. It is a beautiful way of keeping faith with those who went before and the ancient Irish idea that people die twice, once when they leave their body and the second time when they leave the lips for the last time of those who have remembered them.

We would make a place for them at home too, this was the time of year when the fireplace was swept clean and kept cosy for the ‘visitors’.  Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin, there’s no hearth like your own hearth.  My Mam would leave a candle lighting on the table, and the fire banked down to welcome all who came back during Samhain.  My Great Granny, also Annie, would leave salt, and a cup of water on the table (always next to the fire) to welcome those who had gone before.  The tradition was so strong, that you could feel their presence and it was a good and comforting feeling. 

And if it was you, would you like that welcome?

I asked my Mam once, why did we do this, keep the empty chair, have the fire glowing through the night, banked down with slack (she had a great trick of putting it in old cardboard milk cartons slightly wet to cause a great glowing crust on the fire that would last all night), and leaving some water and salt for them.  She said, ‘Sure wouldn’t you be delighted if you got a welcome like that, wouldn’t it make you want to come and not forget about the ones that didn’t forget you’, there’s a lot of wisdom in those words. 

A candle in the window

There would be a candle in the window to guide the souls home to their own dear hearts. I LOVE that, their own dear hearts.  Now, in this November, I can really FEEL the loss of light in the evenings, and how I have slowed down in the dark early mornings.  In a time before electricity the only thing to break the night was candle light, and they put it in the window so that you could see it for miles and know there was a welcome waiting.  

I often look to dúchas.ie when I’m researching where our traditions come from. It is Ireland’s unique collection of our traditions collected by the school children of 1930 when the Republic of Ireland was still new and we were reclaiming our Irish heritage.  In those long ago copy books with the beautiful scripted writing of the children of that bygone era you can see the same traditions and ethos of welcome. In Banteer, Cork the table was laid with the usual supper, the tongs were set by the fire,  “so that everything is in readiness.”

In Derreennalomane nobody locked the door going to bed, and a basin of water was left on the table. In Kilcounty, candles were lit in all the windows “to guide the souls on their way.”

And there was divilment in it too, because we like nothing more than having the craic here in Cork. In Kilcomane, near Durrus, a mother caught someone going to throw out water on Halloween night: “Is it going to throw out water you are, on Hallowe’en night and the poor souls all around everywhere? Come in out of that.” Half scolding, half laughing and at the end of it all handing down the tradition of welcome and respect for those that had gone before. Oíche Shamhna was Snap Apple Night, apples swinging from the ceiling on a cord, my Mam would stick a five pence or a ten pence into it to encourage you on. There was no need for a lot of money to make the craic in times gone by, because there wasn’t an awful lot of spare money around. 

There was no fear in it

The great Cork storyteller Eibhlís de Barra of Blarney Street told the Cork Folklore Project how some of the older women would “light a plum candle, that night… and have the house nice and clean.” And then she said the thing that matters most of all: “There was no fear.” Only “a thinking of those that are gone.” I was priviliged to meet Colm De Barra, her son, when I was making my Storytelling Amulet in St. John’s ETB in Cork City.  He told me many great stories from his mother, and I was always struck how she reminded me so much of my own mother and her ways. 

The slow stroll into deepest winter

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir, time is a good storyteller. The story always told to me at this time of year, is that nature is a great teacher and at this time of year she teaches us to go down a gear, to slow down and look in.  So my ceist eolais, wise question to you, is the one that I was asked time and again by my elders.  ‘Do you feel the shortening in the day? Can you lean into the slow pace of Winter? Do you have time to lose yourself into looking into the heart of the fire and the memories that dance there?’  If instead, your winter is full of electric lights and pre-Christmas planning I invite you to take some time each day, the same time each day for about 10 minutes, to remember someone no longer with us and what they taught you and how that made you into who you are today. 

Pull up your chair

I have some exciting news! Many of you have told me how you enjoy my monthly blog but would love a story to go with it. I have been racking my brain to see how we can come closer to the traditional Irish Session and the feeling of community it brings.  I have set up a meeting place for us called Tine Scéalta, Story Fire, our own place to gather. On the first Friday of every month I’ll tell a story there for the Chlann and leave you with a Ceist Eolais, Wise Question, to carry through the dark evenings. It is a start to gathering our Chlann on the #StoryRoad

To come in, sign up for my free Samhain workbook, full of old stories, Ceist Eolais and fireside ways for the dark half of the year. Your place at the fire comes with it.

Get your free Samhain workbook and your place at the fire: www.storychlann.com/samhain

Le Grá, Maria

In stories, all things are possible.