Day of the Dead: when the veil between worlds becomes transparent

Encountering death

When the Dead Dance with the Light

In 2009, I flew to the Philippines for three months, camera in hand, determined to capture traces of the rituals that shape the archipelago.I arrived in Manila two days before the Day of the Dead, unaware of the power and uniqueness of this celebration.

At dawn, the city seemed to pulse toward a single living heart — the cemetery. Families poured in, arms full of bright flowers, flickering candles, meals, and colorful garlands. Children laughed and ran between the graves; women spread tablecloths; men tuned their guitars. The air smelled of melted wax, rice, and warm earth. The cemetery had transformed into a living village — vibrant, breathing, alive with memory.

What struck me most was the joyful and flamboyant presence of many men dressed as women — transvestites, drag queens. Their energy gave the celebration a particular tone, almost magical.

I spent the day immersed in this sea of emotion, camera in hand, witnessing a celebration where joy met tears, where music rose among the crosses, and prayers floated toward the sky. Each tomb became an altar of light. Death, far from being silence, revealed itself as a presence — gentle, vibrant, eternally intertwined with life.And perhaps this celebration was also meant to help the spirits still suspended in our world to cross the threshold?

Day of the dead and the movement of life

That memory, in the cemetery of Manila, calls forth a topic we rarely speak about: the spirits of the dead.Who really knows what they are? Why has this subject been buried in silence in our societies? Few acknowledge their presence — fewer still know that they may remain close to us when they have not yet found their way.Here, we prefer to hide this reality, to wrap it in fear or superstition.

The culture of the visible and the rational

Western societies value what can be seen, measured, and proven.Spiritual or energetic experiences — the perception of spirits, presences, or wandering souls — are often dismissed as “irrational.”Yet this erasure is not without consequence. It carries the mark of a history where knowledge of the invisible was silenced, where witch hunts and fear of the unknown severed the natural bond between the living and the world of spirits.

The taboo of non-control

To accept the existence of spirits is to recognize that life extends beyond the boundaries of the visible and measurable.It means admitting that there are forces, movements, and presences that escape our will.But our societies, shaped by centuries of fear and the domination of reason, have learned to distrust what cannot be mastered.Rather than engaging with the invisible, they chose to ignore it, to enclose it in silence.Behind this will to control hides an ancient fear — the fear of no longer being sovereign over life… or over death.

The fear of the invisible and cultural repression

The invisible frightens us. In the West, death is often experienced as a definitive, painful loss.For some, it marks the end of all presence — nothing remains, no spirit, no link.This perception also conflicts with certain Western religious views, where the dead have a fixed place and wandering spirits have none.This rigidity may have deepened the taboo and silence surrounding invisible presences.

And yet, other cultures remind us that death can be lived differently.To celebrate the dead, to accompany lost souls, to recognize the invisible as part of life — this is to accept that death is not an ending, but a continuation, that some spirits continue their journey and can be honored and guided.To speak of spirits, then, is to acknowledge another truth: death is not merely a rupture; it can be a continuous presence — sometimes unsettling, yet also loving and supportive.

The spirits of the dead: when the soul remains suspended

Sometimes, when a soul leaves the body, it doesn’t know where to go.When death comes through shock, fear, or confusion, the spirit can become disoriented, suspended between worlds.These presences — often called “spirits of the dead” — are not malevolent or cursed.They are lost souls, carrying a low vibration, clinging to the living because they are still seeking light.

In many traditions, the living have a role to play: through prayer, song, the flame of a candle, or a whispered word, they can accompany these souls and help them continue their journey.Helping a spirit to cross over is an act of love — as essential as learning to let go of a loved one in life.The dead move toward their light, and the living are freed from what they unknowingly hold onto.

When Spirits Watch Over the Sacred Circle

The Hopis and the role of the ghost hunters

In Hopi tradition, certain beings are chosen for their unique sensitivity to the invisible realms.They are called ghost hunters.Their primary role is to be the guardians during ceremonies — those who ensure the space remains pure and protected, so that the rituals unfold in harmony.They perceive subtle presences and movements of energy, and intervene when disruptive forces appear.

This role is given to a homosexual or bisexual person — someone carrying a double energy, both masculine and feminine.This duality is not seen as a difference but as a sacred gift: it allows them to move naturally between worlds, to sense and to balance what others cannot perceive.

In Hopi cosmology, everything is interconnected by flows of energy.When these flows are disturbed — by the presence of lost spirits, for instance — the ghost hunter does not banish but restores harmony among the living, the dead, and the forces of nature.It is a role of protection, balance, and connection.

Among the Hopis, difference is embraced as a form of wisdom — it opens doors to worlds that others do not see.And perhaps this recognition reminds us of something essential: some souls are born to be bridges between realities, guardians of the threshold, witnesses of the breath that unites life and death.

An echo across cultures

And perhaps this is a universal echo…In the Philippines, during the Day of the Dead, I often wondered if the flamboyant, joyful presence of transvestites and drag queens carried the same function in their own way.What if, behind their laughter, their dances, and their radiant colors, lay a deeper mission — to watch over the passage, to ensure that wandering souls find their way, that the celebration unfolds in balance between the worlds?Perhaps they too are weavers of the invisible thread, guardians of the threshold where life and death meet in the light of the feast.

An inner celebration

Since that day in Manila, every autumn reminds me of this truth:death is not the end — it is a passage.And when we honor our dead,we also celebrate the life that continues through them —in our gestures, our voices, our choices.

So, on this Day of the Dead,take a moment to pause.Light a candle, sing a song, share a meal.Invite memory to sit at your table.For as long as we remember with love,the veil between worlds remains open,and life continues to flow, breath to breath.

To go further

If these words have resonated with you,I invite you to explore these invisible realms more deeply with me —through teaching circles, drum healing sessions,and workshops at Yoga With You.

Together, we’ll learn to listen to the whispers of the unseen,to honor our ancestors,and to walk with greater awareness between the worlds.