Signal Fires

Hello friends,

Today is May first. Beltane. May Day. A time of burgeoning in the northern hemisphere, it is a time of planting. A time of celebrating life. It’s also a day to celebrate the power of working people around the world. 

Some say that this time of year—as in October—the veil between what I call the seen and unseen worlds is thin. As there are births, there are also deaths. 

So included in our celebration of life? Is also grieving. This year in particular, there is so much loss. 

This year, there are massive covid deaths, and police killings, and all the rest. My friend and writing mentor, Kris Rusch, writes about losing her brother, and how to continue creating after that. Another friend and former student died this week, and the people closest to him are reeling. 

I know each of you has your own story of love and loss. Of celebration and grieving. 

The ancients lit fires on hilltops this time of year. They leapt the flames, and drove their animals between the fires, asking the flames to take away sickness, and to strengthen health. 

These fires lit up the night. They were bale fires. Need fires. 

So I’ll say what I said to my friend Kris: we are all signal fires for each other. We light up the sky with flares—in both struggle and celebration—to remind each other that we are not alone.

You are not alone. Last night, I lit a small fire, and leapt the flames. And today, as I sit—still socially distanced—in a friend’s back yard having a tea and Beltane celebration, I’ll be thinking of you.

On this day, I hope you can breathed deeply, and appreciate a flower. Or shed a tear. Or light just one small flame.  

I’m glad you are alive.

blessed be — Thorn

Want to escape into a novel about witches, May Poles, and facing down the right wing? By Sea is the book for you. Want to help covid sufferers in India? Donate to Khalsa Aid India and Hemkunt Foundation who are getting oxygen and other supplies to people in need.