The Sinister Truth Behind Halloween
Haunt time is here!
It’s time to pull out whatever stops that haven’t yet been pulled out and to go completely insane trying to get everything done by whatever deadline we each have set ourselves.
All the planning and preparing, the months of hectic activity, will soon reach critical mass. For some, it already has. Their haunt is up and running, drawing a nightly crowd. That haunter has entered into the recursive maintenance phase. Like a dowager tending her meticulous garden, this person is caught in a perpetual loop. Primp and adjust. Primp and adjust. The activity will continue uninterrupted until November 1.
For the rest of us there are still tombstones to set, miles of orange lights yet to unravel, and monsters dripping not saliva, but sealant. Heck, you can’t navigate the shop today without some creature tapping you on the shoulder and asking, “you think you could touch up this seam?”
Excitement is flavored with worry. Or possibly it’s the other way around. When will the rain stop, and is it going to short out my extension cords … again? Why won’t this stupid timer come on when I want it to? Do I have any fishing line to hang the skeleton? How much will the vandals tear up this year? Is this stand going to keep the scarecrow from doing a face-plant in the wind? Will anyone show up for the party?
Anxiety builds up to the point that one may actually hear himself say, “I’m sick of Halloween.”
The sinister truth behind Halloween is that it only exists inside us. Whatever manifests in the real world as a result of the Halloween Spirit is just whipped orange icing on the cupcake. Otherwise, October is just another month.
Halloween is special, magical because that’s how we make it. We put ghosts in the wind. We make dancing witches out of bonfire shadows. We hear skeleton fingers tapping on the window panes. That’s no mere pumpkin on the front porch. It’s an avatar.
We carry Halloween around with us like a candle, and whatever might try to snuff the flame isn’t Halloween’s fault. When it’s not fun anymore, we (I) look for reminders to help chase away the dreads and doubts.
Sometimes it can be as simple as a picture of a Jack-o-lantern and a bear holding a welcome sign. Simple. Sincere. Welcome.