A few years ago, I shared some of the things I love best about Halloween in my Halloween Dance Party Yoga Class at Bella Vita. We started off by doing a short guided meditation, as always. In this one, I started by inviting them to consider the stuff they associated with Halloween.
I know my associations aren't all that unusual: candy, booze, costumes that leave little to the imagination...to a greater or lesser degree (and of course depending on your personal associations), all of these things are about excess: enjoying sensual pleasure to an extreme. They sum up the sense of license that makes Halloween great: you can wear whatever you want, you can eat fistfuls of trans fats and processed sugars and for the most part people will keep their mouths shut, and of course, people will probably be surprised if you don't get hammered.
And suddenly I had segued from a perfectly appropriate breakdown of the third and fourth chakras to a not-very-yoga-centric monologue about the moon's pull on our psyche: the temptation to go a little wild and do things we didn't think we wanted to do...or at least, didn't want to admit we wanted to do. Yoga has its own set of associations with the moon, and while a number of them do overlap with Tarot's associations thanks to the universal concepts of sun as masculine and moon as feminine, when it comes to the Moon, major arcanum #18, it's a shaky connection.
But how I could I help it? It was Halloween! Werewolves and young adults everywhere were prepared to howl at the moon, and celebrate it in all its lawless glory...
You weren't! And you weren't supposed to be! The Moon needs its chance to run wild and take you along for the ride. If you don't plan safe spaces for this side of yourself to be expressed, the Moon will break out when you least expect it, and it won't be pretty.
And that's what Halloween is: a societally sanctioned chance to follow the glow of the moon: your animal nature, your craziest impulses, instead of your heart. Of course, that doesn't give you license to forget about the feelings of the other beings you interact with. That's all the more reason to let your animal out for pre-planned play sessions: you can be sure you're indulging yourself with a minimum of self destruction and collateral damage.
How will you howl at the moon on Halloween Night, literally or metaphorically speaking? How are you planning to honor your inner werewolf in the future? Why not let November be Moon Month (a redundant phrase if I ever heard one, since our months are based on the 28-day lunar cycle, and the words come from the same root), or tomorrow be Moon Day? Ask yourself when the Moon has made an unexpected appearance, and what damage it may have wrought in your life. How might you have prevented it? What impulses do you struggle to control, or associate with shame? Can you look at yourself in the beautiful, silvery light of the moon, and love every complicated, messy part of yourself?