אין לי מושג לאמיתות של זה (אני לא פ
אין לי מושג לאמיתות של זה (אני לא פאגני, רק מחפש כאלו מב"ש....עצוב להיות לבד בלה בלה בלה.....)
Samhain (Sow-in) October 31st - New Year [sow: rhyms with cow] The eve of 1st November, when the Celtic Winter begins, is the dark counterpart of May Eve which greets the Summer. More than that, 1st November for the Celts was the beginning of the year itself, and the feast of Samhain was their New Year's Eve, the mysterious moment which belonged to neither past nor present, to neither this world nor the Other. Samhain is Irish Gaelic for the month of November; Samhain (pronounced 'sav-en' with the 'n' like the 'ni' onion) is Scottish Gaelic for All Hallows, 1st November. For the old pastoralists, whose herd-raising was backed by only primitive agriculture or none at all, keeping whole herds fed through the winter was simply not possible, so the minimum breeding stock was kept alive, and the rest were slaughtered and salted - the only way, then, of preserving meat (no doubt, the traditional use in magical ritual of salt as a 'disinfectant' against psychic or spiritual evil). Samhain was the time when this killing and preserving took place, and it is not hard to imagine what a nervously critical occasion it was. Had the right, or enough breeding stock been kept? Would the coming winter be long and hard? If so, would the breeding stock survive it? Had they stored enough meat and feed to last the tribe and herds through it? Crops too, had all been gathered in by the 31st October, and anything still unharvested was abandoned - because of the Pooka, a nocturnal, shape-changing hobgoblin who delighted in tormenting humans, was believed to spend Samhain night destroying or contaminating whatever remained unreaped. The Pooka's favorite disguise seems to have been the shape of an ugly black horse. Added to the economic uncertainty was a sense of psychic eeriness, for at the turn of the year - the old, dying, the new still unborn - the Veil was (is) very thin. The doors of the sidh-mounds were wide open, and on this night neither human nor fairy needed any magical password to come and go. On this night, too, the spirits of dead friends sought the warmth of the Samhain fire and communion with their living kin. This was the Féile na Marbh (pronounced 'fayluh nuh morv'), the Feast of the Dead, and also Féile Moingfhinne (pronounced 'fayluh mong-innuh'), the Feast of the White Haired One, the Snow Goddess. It was a partial return to primordial chaos ..... the dissolution of established order as a prelude to its recreation in a new period of time, as Proinsias mac Cana says in Celtic Mythology. Samhain was on the one hand a time of propitiation, divination and communion with the dead, and on the other hand, an uninhibited feast of eating, drinking and the defiant affirmation of life and fertility in the very face of the closing darkness. Propitiation, in the old days when survival was felt to depend on it, was a grim and serious affair. There can be little doubt that at one time it involved human sacrifice - of criminals saved up for the purpose or, at the other end of the scale, of an aging king; little doubt, either, that these ritual deaths were by fire, for in Celtic mythology many kings and heroes die at Samhain, often in a burning house, trapped by the wiles of supernatural women, or the Pooka. Drowning may follow the burning, as with the sixth-century Kings of Tara, Muirchertach mac Erca and Diarmait mac Cerbaill. Later, of course, the propitiatory sacrifice became symbolic, and English children still unwittingly enact this symbolism on Guy Fawkes' Night, which has taken over from the Samhain bonfire. It's interesting that, as the failed assassinator of a King, the burned Guy is in a sense the king's substitute. This could be where the Burning Man festival also originated. Echoes of the Samhain royal sacrifice may also have lingered in that of animal substitutes. Within living memory, in Ireland, a cockrels' blood was sprinkled at the corners of houses, inside and out, on Martinmas Eve as a protective spell. Now Martinmas is on the 11th of November - which is 1st November according to the old Julian calendar, a displacement which often points to the survival of a particularly unofficial custom. This may well have been originally a Samhain practice. The ending of the custom of actual royal sacrifice is perhaps commemorated in the legend of the destruction of Aillen mac Midgna, of the Finnachad sidhe, who is said to have burned royal Tara every Samhain until Fionn mac Cumhal finally slew him. (Fionn mac Cumhal is a Robin Hood-type hero, whose legends are remembered all over Ireland. The mountains above Ballycroy are called the Nephin Beg range, which is from the Old Irish as 'the little resting place of Finn'. Ireland's bonfire-and fireworks night is still Halloween, and some of the unconscious survivals are remarkable. Many of the children who live in Ferns in County Wexford, ambush folks on Halloween hoping for apples, nuts or "money for the King, money for the Queen". One of the children inevitably would be masked as 'the Man in Black'. He would challenge you with "I am the Man in Black - do you know me?" - to which one replies, "I know who you are, but you are the Man in Black." It's curious if he knows that one of the significantly recurrent pieces of evidence in the witchcraft trials of the persecution period is that 'the Man in Black' was the coven's High Priest, whose anonymity must be stubbornly protected. In Scotland and Wales, individual family Samhain fired used to be lit; they were called Samhnagan in Scotland and Coel Coeth in Wales and were built for days ahead on the highest point of ground nearest to the house. This was still a thriving custom in some districts in living memory, though by then it had become (like England's bonfire night) mostly a children's celebration. The habit of Halloween fires survived in the Isle of Man, too.