When I was in high school and my mother would try to rouse me Sunday mornings for church, I would tell her “the ocean is my religion.” I’ll admit, at the time I was mostly being a contrarian teenager, but there was truth to the words. A surfing, freediving aqua-holic even then, I felt the most at peace when I was in and around the ocean.

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I went into science, mostly so I could help our blue planet, and completely absconded religion. I had and have no problem with people who are religious, but it just did not make sense to me. Things need to be proven. Measured. Not just taken from people who “knew better” or “knew more” or “had more of a connection.” Science was something you could sink your teeth into: read the methods and the results, and even replicate experiments to determine your own outcomes, observe things for yourself.
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Still, nothing felt quite like being around the ocean. It’s been a phenomenon studied by scientists like the late Wallace J Nichols and his Blue Mind philosophy. It’s something that data tried to quantify, but how do you quantify a feeling? A connection? Sure, there are measurable parameters, like hormone changes, heart rate, breathing, and even brain wave activity. But how do you really measure peace within yourself? ​
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To me, that bordered on a religious or spiritual experience. It’s a remembrance, a coming home.
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Over the years, Halloween has meant different things to me. Growing up, I loved it because, hello, trick or treating. Candy. That fizzled as I reached adulthood. I don’t really like scary or gory things, so that aspect of the holiday never appealed to me. I know lots of people who love Halloween movies with the dudes in masks wielding chainsaws, but for me, Hocus Pocus and Halloweentown are about as scary as I’ll get. For several years, Halloween and all that came with it was just meh.
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My relationship with the holiday was forever changed October 2017, when we traveled to San Diego for our friend’s wedding.

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We went to a market square where there were altars for Día de los Muertos, the Mexican Day of the Dead, everywhere. It was there that I learned about the holiday— that it’s a time for honoring the ancestors. It wasn't just for public show, people have altars in their homes with photos of their own deceased loved ones. This practice really spoke to me. Why didn’t we do this?

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When we got home, I immediately set about creating an altar with photographs of my own family, chosen and blood, that are no longer earth-side. A few thrifted frames, a couple of candles, some flowers, and voilà: they were in my home.

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Every year since, I pull out these photos and set up the altar. When my children were born, I told them stories of the people who looked out from the photos, and every fall setting up the altar is a much anticipated part of the season. We leave the altar up through Thanksgiving— my own combination of honoring the time when the veil between worlds is thin and being thankful for those whose shoulders we now stand on.
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It wasn’t until 2023 that I learned that this wasn’t just a Mexican tradition (though they certainly do it with lots of style and flair!) but that my own Celtic ancestors also did this, and called it Samhain. Sweets such as apples were left out in offering, and turnips with carved faces were made to keep any unwanted and unwelcome spirits away. These were the beginnings of Halloween as we know it today.
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I found it fascinating that two cultures, an entire continent and ocean apart, celebrated the exact same time of year in very similar fashions. I’ve since learned that many traditions around the world have similar iterations of this season. They stem from a time when people lived by Nature, living in cycle with her seasons, and studying her with a spiritual lens, knowing that to explain the natural world also explained some piece of humanity.
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I suppose my cheeky high school self wasn’t so far off this mark— the ocean as a religion. To study Nature, to be in the trees or out on the seas you learn so much more than what is simply observed. There is a deeper sense of connection, of knowing, of understanding internally that’s happening as well.

That’s where the real magic is.

I’m curious, do you celebrate Halloween/ All Hallow’s Eve/ Día de los Muertos/ Samhain? If so, how?

Is there a time that you’ve felt a profound connection to Nature? Where was it?

Hit reply and let me know; I’d be honored to hear your story.
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Big hugs,

Kara it’s-just-a-bunch-of-hocus-pocus Muzia

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