REFLECTIONS AS THE YEAR FADES

#7/8. Samhain and All Saints — the quiet threshold between autumn and winter, when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead feels especially thin. It’s a time that invites reflection, remembrance, and gratitude for all that has shaped us.

The weather couldn’t fit better — grey, still, and cold enough to call for candles, warmth, and quiet thoughts. The kind of day that makes you sit down with a cup of tea, light incense, and listen — not only to the world around you, but also to the one within.ningly this that much slew.

Journaling Prompts

for This Moment of Stillness

🕯️ What has weighed on me or moved me most this year?
🕯️ Is there an ancestor whose blessing or guidance I seek?
🕯️ Think of all the souls who have crossed your path — each one shaping who you are. Thank them.

The round worry stone with the cross in the reel came from Berlin Cathedral, bought back in 2009 — just before my life fell apart and, at the same time, came back together. Beneath it lies another stone that has seen even more of another world — carried home from a quiet Australian stream during last year’s journey. Two simple stones, worlds apart, yet both holding a trace of transformation.

There’s comfort in allowing those who’ve passed on to still be with us — not only family, but souls who’ve walked beside us in spirit, through kindness, or even through stories. My wonderful dog Bella is one of them — her presence still felt in soft, unexpected moments.

This autumn, a few truly inspiring souls have left us — Diane Keaton, Robert Redford, Diane Gooding… Their work remains, luminous and human. On a grey November day, I’ll surely watch Gorillas in the Mist again — remembering the awe I felt the first time, and the message that compassion for nature is also compassion for ourselves.

Reflections on the Year Fading

As the year begins to fade, I find myself looking back with a mix of gratitude and fatigue. 💭
What memories surface for you during this season of endings and renewal?
How would you rate 2025 on a scale of 1 to 10?

To be honest — for me, it barely reaches a 6. There were high waves, strong winds, and moments of deep learning. Yet through it all, I’ve discovered a steadier ground — one built on acceptance, presence, and a quiet sense of peace.

Wishing you a gentle, grounded close to the year — with health, warmth, and love in the spaces that matter most.
May your memories bring comfort, and your hopes find new light.

Love,