Category Archives: Faith and Spirituality

A Thanksgiving Gift for you

Samain                                                                        Thanksgiving Moon

The Thanksgiving Prayer, Adapted from the Mohawk

Illustration by John Kahionhes Fadden

Illustration by John Kahionhes Fadden

THE THANKSGIVING PRAYER
Adapted from the Mohawk by John Stokes and David Kanawahienton Benedict

The People

Today we have gathered and we see that the cycles of life continue. We have been given the duty to live in balance and harmony with each other and all living things. So now, we bring our minds together as one we give greetings and thanks to each other as People
Now our minds are one.

The Earth Mother

We are thankful to our Mother, the Earth, for she gives us all that we need for life. She supports our feet as we walk about upon her. It gives us joy that she continues to care for us as she has from the beginning of time. To our Mother, we send greetings and thanks.
Now our minds are one.

The Waters

We give thanks to all the Waters of the world for quenching our thirst and providing us with strength. Water is life. We know its power in many forms—waterfalls and rain, mists and streams, rivers and oceans. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks  to the spirit of Water.
Now our minds are one.

The Fish

We turn our minds to all the Fish life in the water. They were instructed to cleanse and purify the water. They also give themselves to us as food. We are grateful that we can still find pure water. So, we turn now to the Fish and send our greetings and thanks.
Now our minds are one.

The Plants

Now we turn toward the vast fields of Plant life. As far as the eye can see, the Plants grow, working many wonders. They sustain many life forms. With our minds gathered together, we give thanks and look forward to seeing Plant life for many generations to come.
Now our minds are one.

The Food Plants

With one mind, we turn to honor and thank all the Food Plants we harvest from the garden. Since the beginning of time, the grains, vegetables, beans, and berries have helped the people survive. Many other living things draw strength from them too. We gather all the Food Plants together as one and send them a greeting and thanks.
Now our minds are one.

The Medicine Herbs

Now we turn to all the Medicine Herbs of the world. From the beginning, they were instructed to take away sickness. They are always waiting and ready to heal us. We are happy there are still among us those special few who remember how to use these plants for healing. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to the Medicines and to the keepers of the Medicines.
Now our minds are one.

The Animals

We gather our minds together to send greetings and thanks to all the Animal life in the world. They have many things to teach us as people. We see them near our homes and in the deep forests. We are glad they are still here and we hope that it will always be so.
Now our minds are one.

The Trees

Now we turn our thoughts to the Trees. The Earth has many families of Trees who have their own instructions and uses. Some provide us with shelter, others with fruit, beauty, and other useful things. Many peoples of the world use a Tree as a symbol of peace and strength. With one mind, we greet and thank the Tree life.
Now our minds are one.

The Birds

We put our minds together as one and thank all the Birds who move and fly about over our heads. The Creator gave them beautiful songs. Each day they remind us to enjoy and appreciate life. The Eagle was chosen to be their leader. To all the Birds—from the smallest to the largest—we send our joyful greetings and thanks.
Now our minds are one.

The Four Winds

We are all thankful to the powers we know as the Four Winds. We hear their voices in the moving air as they refresh us and purify the air we breathe. They help bring the change of seasons. From the four directions they come, bringing us messages and giving us strength. With one mind, we send our greetings and thanks to the Four Winds.

Now our minds are one.

The Thunderers
Now we turn to the west where our Grandfathers, the Thunder Beings, live. With lightning and thundering voices, they bring with them the water that renews life. We bring our minds together as one to send greetings and thanks to our Grandfathers, the Thunderers.
Now our minds are one.

The Sun

We now send greetings and thanks to our eldest Brother, the Sun. Each day without fail he travels the sky from east to west, bringing the light of a new day. He is the source of all fires of life. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to our Brother, the Sun.
Now our minds are one.

Grandmother Moon

We put our minds together and give thanks to our oldest Grandmother, the Moon, who lights the nighttime sky. She is the leader of women all over the world, and she governs the movement of the ocean tides. By her changing face we measure time, and it is the Moon who watches over the arrival of children here on earth. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to our Grandmother, the Moon.
Now our minds are one.

The Stars

We give thanks to the Stars who are spread across the sky like jewelry. We see them in the night, helping the Moon to light the darkness and bringing dew to the gardens and growing things. When we travel at night, they guide us home. With our minds gathered together as one, we send greetings and thanks to the Stars.
Now our minds are one.

The Enlightened Teachers

We gather our minds to greet and thank the enlightened Teachers who have come to help throughout the ages. When we forget how to live in harmony, they remind us of the way we were instructed to live as people. With one mind, we send greetings and thanks to these caring Teachers.
Now our minds are one.

The Creator

Now we turn our thoughts to the Creator, or Great Spirit, and send greetings and thanks for all the gifts of Creation. Everything we need to live a good life is here on this Mother Earth. For all the love that is still around us, we gather our minds together as one and send our choicest words of greetings and thanks to the Creator.
Now our minds are one.

Closing Words

We have now arrived at the place where we end our words. Of all the thing we have named, it was not our intention to leave anything out. If something was forgotten, we leave it to each individual to send such greetings and thanks in their own way.
And now our minds are one. ♦

Joining

Samain                                                                 Thanksgiving Moon

imagesHere’s an odd outcome of the election. I’m planning on joining Congregation Beth Evergreen. Strange, huh? Turns out you don’t have to be Jewish. Weird, to me, but true.

Why join? Well, there’s the mussar group. It’s a disciplined approach to character and spiritual development. I’ve always gravitated toward groups that encourage introspection and using that introspection to grow as a person. Mussar is intellectually satisfying, but even more emotionally so. It speaks to the everyday of lived ethics, how to be true to yourself and others. The group itself is supportive, non-judgemental, and full of bright, inquisitive folks. I’ve made the beginnings of friendships there.

jamieThen, there’s Rabbi Jamie Arnold. He’s an unusual guy: an athlete, a good musician, a composer and arranger, too, an intellectual, and an embodiment of compassion leavened with toughness. This combination of skills and character make him a compelling leader.

Kate, too, of course. She’s on her spiritual path and reveling in it. It’s a place we can both go, a place that’s more than movies or jazz or theatre, a place we can both ease our way into.

raise-your-voiceBut mostly there’s the potential for action against the impending Trump regime. Politics is not a solo sport; it requires allies. Congregation Beth Evergreen seems to have a core of folks who’ve done actual work in political situations. It clearly has a number of folks who want to do work on the Trump watch. That includes me. My politics and my spiritual journey have always been tightly wound together so working with folks at Congregation Beth Evergreen seems like a continuation.

Finally, there is, of course, Judaism. It’s so different up close. It’s long history of scholars, activists, philosophers and theologians is a rich resource as is the cultural achievement of having lasted this long as a people. I don’t feel drawn to becoming a Jew, but I can learn from the long history of Judaism, even participate in it.

And, I find I want to.

Part I: Holiseason

Samain                                                                       Thanksgiving Moon

Two thoughts kept rambling through yesterday and today. The first, how much more comfortable I felt when I remembered holiseason was here. The second, how to avoid demonizing whole populations with words like racist, sexist, homophobe, misogynist, classist. (I’ll post about this tomorrow.)

imagesHoliseason. I find myself soothed and enriched by certain traditions. The holidays are among them. When I eased my psyche into holiseason yesterday, I realized that the holidays will help me survive the insults of Trump’s election.

Here’s what I mean.  Holiseason begins now with Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, Sukkot and Simchat Torah. Each year Jews all over the world celebrate new year, then follow it with 10 days of soul searching, flaw finding and asking for forgiveness. Can you imagine how those activities will be greeted in the Trump Whitehouse? Neither can I.

With Samain we enter the Celtic new year, celebrating not the fecundity of the earth, but its time of rest and renewal. Next week comes Thanksgiving when families all over America come together to eat, watch football and argue. Probably a grand family tradition at chez Trump.

happyAfter Thanksgiving, or around it sometimes, the Wheel turns to the festivals of light like Diwali, Hannukah, Christmas. We decorate and illuminate. We sing songs, give and receive gifts, enter into traditions older, much older than our nation.

The Winter Solstice also comes in this time. It is a festival of the dark, not the light. It is the moment of darkness, actual physical darkness, at its deepest and longest of the year. As some of you who read this know, this is my favorite holiday. It will be a time this year to concentrate my mind, meditate, discern what path forward makes sense in light of the many assaults on human life and on our planet to come next year and for the next four years.

After that, Kwanza, then the Gregorian New Year comes full force. Ball dropping at Times Square. Silly hats. Noise makers. And finally the feast of the Epiphany on January 6th. After the Epiphany we return to Ordinary Time, though on January 20th Ordinary Time will get a sudden jolt with the orange faced hair piece getting sworn in as the President. Aaiiieeee!

You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither can you desist from it.

Samain                                                                             Thanksgiving Moon

weeping-buddha-1He sits, early in the morning, while it is still dark outside, with his head in his hands. Orion, his longtime friend hangs in the sky visible to the southwest, Scorpio and Cassiopeia and the Drinking Gourd out there, too. A crescent Thanksgiving Moon, waxing toward its Super Moon event on November 25th, was visible last night.

If only the world could be quiet, serene, beautiful like the 5 am dark sky here on Shadow Mountain. No pussy grabbing. No complaints about raping 13 year old girls. No encouragement of political violence. No cynical comments about the validity of our electoral process.

Perhaps he could just slip away, go to some Trump Island in the the general area of Antarctica or maybe a luxury masted sailing ship forever circling the diminishing sea ice of the North Pole. Like Frankenstein’s creation. I would make a comparison between Trump and Frankenstein’s monster, but the monster was Frankenstein.

monsterIn this case Trumpism is the monster, a living candidacy patched together from a body of populist resentment, the brain of a nativist bigot, the nervous system of fearful white males and the legs of second-amendment worshipping other-phobic citizens. The arms, though, the arms are Trump’s, dangling like the tentacles of a squid, ready to grab, squeeze, embrace. Force. Trump is Frankenstein to this political moment in the Republican Party. The GOP provided the lightning that brought this monster to life and has paraded it with pride through this mockery of a campaign.

These are the most perilous political times in which I have lived. There are milita’s preparing an armed response to a potential Hillary gun-grabbing presidency. Our to this point normative peaceful transition of power after a Presidential election is under threat. This is a core feature of our democracy. The stakes on one issue, strangely absent from the campaign, are ultimate, the very survival of the human race may hang in the balance: climate change. The timer counting down the years in which we can still soften the blow of advancing global warming nears its alarm.

hamletRace relations are in a visibly violent phase. Police kill black folks with so steady a drumbeat that it has become like Trump’s long string of insults to America, dulling our capacity for outrage. Misogyny is at its peak in the Donald, powerful at the same time as our first serious female candidate.

The Forever War has captured our youth, our money, our tolerance. We bomb and shoot and strike with drones, again dulling our capacity for outrage by desensitization.

I am not a man given to despair. Hamlet, that most existential of Shakespeare’s plays, offers a choice in the often quoted to be or not to be soliloquy. Do we suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them? I know my answer.

Rabbi Hillel
Rabbi Hillel

Rabbi Tarfon is credited with this quote: “It is not incumbent upon you to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to desist from it” (Avot 2:21). wiki This is a wonderful thought because it drives directly against despair, relieving us of the expectation of finishing our political work, yet not letting us set it aside either.

So, when confronted with the potential momentary success of hate-filled, other-despising politics, those of us committed to a diverse, egalitarian world must not pull back, must not flee to Canada, must not despair. We are not, as Rabbi Tarfon said, at liberty to desist.

 

 

 

 

Knee, Birthday, 60s, Cold

Samain                                                                       Thanksgiving Moon

A diverse day, yesterday. Down to Orthocolorado for a “class” about my knee surgery. Not bad, not great.

20161103_130418At 12:30 we drove over to Evergreen for mussar at Beth Evergreen. It was Rabbi Jamie’s birthday and each woman brought a cooked or purchased offering of some kind. We had cranberry juice with tea and mint, apple juice, brie and a wonderful soft cheese, warm carrots, pistachios, cashews, strawberries, grapes, melon, crackers, chips, guacamole, a birthday cake, sea-salt caramel and chocolate brownies (Kate, see pic), with Halloween plates and napkins.

Later in the afternoon, around 5, we went down Shadow Mountain and spent an hour or so at Grow Your Own. This is a hydroponics shop, a head shop, a wine shop and a place to hear local musicians. Last night there was a former member of Steppenwolf playing guitar, a singer from a group called the Bucktones and a guy named Stan, who looked like the aging owner of a hardware store, playing bass. Time erodes the vocal chords so the singing was spirited and practiced, but range and timber suffered. Guitar chops however seemed undiminished.

The crowd was Kate and me like, gray hair, wrinkles. That question that comes to me often these days was germane: what did you do in the sixties? I don’t ask, at least not yet, but I do wonder what long-haired, dope-smoking, radical politics lie beneath the walkers and penchant for the music of yester year.

Then home to a boiler that’s out. After just having been serviced. The perfect end to an interesting day.

New Year II

Samain                                                                            Thanksgiving Moon

streamgage-or-screamgage-happy-hallowstream-from-usgs-auxiliary-streamgage-pend-oreille-river-at-newport-waWe have reached the end of another Celtic year.  Summer’s End, Samain, marks both the end of the growing season, really, the harvest season and the beginning of a new year. Rosh Hashanah and the Gregorian New Year celebration on January 1st, like the Celtic New Year, put the marker down for a new trip around Sol either at the start of the fallow season or in its midst. In these three instances the New Year seems to suggest a season of reflection, of inner work, as the harvest ends or is well over, while fall and winter stretch ahead.

The Asian New Year’s celebration, usually in February or a bit later, like the Persian Nowruz celebrated on the Spring equinox, occur at the end of the fallow season or near it, setting the new year at the beginning of the growing season. In my case I like them all. I’ll put on a silly hat, pick up a noise maker or dance around the bonfire whenever.

Samain finds the veil between the worlds thinner, with the dead returning and the folk of Faery leaving the Other World to interact with humans. Like the day of the dead and All Soul’s Day, it’s a moment to honor the deceased, often with elaborate meals and tableaus of favorite foods, music, decor.

In the Mussar class at Beth Evergreen I identified myself as a pagan while we ate in the Sukkah. I know what I mean when I say that, but I’m not sure it’s clear to others. It does not mean, for example, that I’m a polytheist. I’m no Wiccan or Neo-Pagan, not a witch or a warlock. I’ll not be saying Blessed Be with a coven tonight.

quote_twothingsSo, what does my celebration of the Great Wheel mean? I began thinking about the Great Wheel when I chose to embrace my Celtic ancestry: Welsh and Irish. This was when I began writing novels a millennia ago in the 1990’s. As Kate and I began to garden seriously, joining our lives to the seasonal rhythms of the earth and its weather, the Great Wheel began to live. Time became, as it has remained for me, a spiral, a turning and returning to Beltane and the start of the growing season, to Samain, Summer’s End, and the end of the harvest.

To be a pagan as I understand it is to live into the Great Wheel, into the spiral turning of the seasons, to know the cycles of plant growth and harvest for what they are, the true transubstantiation, the everyday miracle of sustenance. To be a  pagan as I understand it is to position myself in the ongoing story of the universe, not as a God’s experiment, but as a form of the universe able to reflect on itself. To be a pagan as I understand it is closer to animism than any formal creed or tradition. That is, the interlocking and interdependent nature of life and its interleaving with the inorganic world means all of it participates in the ongoingness of things.

year-wheelThere is life and the spirit of the sun residing in every green thing on this planet. There is life and the spirit of the sun in every insect, mammal, protozoa, fish and flying creature. We are all more alike, much more, than we are different. Think of it. We share this planet, third from the sun, in the goldilocks zone. As living creatures on this one planet among billions of other solar systems, our home is a source of unity, a source of fellow feeling.

The inorganic participates directly in the same cycles as rocks break down into soil, as salt water evaporates and becomes fresh water. Fresh water falls as rain and slakes the thirst of growing plants and roving animals. A chemical like oxygen travels through the stomata of leaves, into the lungs of humans and whales. We are one, part of each other and dependent on each other. This is the sort of paganism I celebrate on this New Year’s.

It is creedless, institutionless, traditionless. It is, in its felt form, mystical. Why mystical? Because knowing this oneness, knowing the life and spirit of us all, is a direct knowing, a visceral experience. No seminary required. No monastic tradition required. No puja required. What is required was written over the gateway to the Delphic Oracle’s room, Know thyself. Yes, know thyself. It is the knowing of our Self as a participant in this great, this cosmic adventure that marries us to the ongoingness of this universe.

In this new pagan year take time if you can to breathe deeply, to see clearly, to listen closely, to taste and touch with delight, with joy. That’s all that’s needed. All.

Eating Sunshine

Fall                                                                                         Hunter Moon

naftali-bezem-israeli-born-1924
naftali-bezem-israeli-born-1924

We had two ribeye steaks last night. After Kate and Ruth lit the shabbos candles, I said my piece about the cattle we knew from the meadow. The primary point was to say thank you to the animal who gave his or her life. The words felt clumsy and anachronistic in my mouth, but right. It was a simple moment, not long, but placing us, as brother Mark pointed out, among others from Jain to Native Americans who stop to honor their food.

It particularly felt right juxtaposed against the familiar Midwestern grace, Bless this food to the use of our bodies. The food is all about us. We can safely ignore the real animals, the real vegetables because God made them for us to eat. This is another way in which traditional Christian values deflect believers from the world around them to the world beyond or at least to a source beyond.

This was a pagan ceremony, one that directs us toward the vital and necessary web of interdependence that sustains us all. This particular cow was not a sacrifice to an abstract principle. In fact there was nothing abstract about it at all. This meat came from an animal that lived this year, ate grass that grew this year, nourished by rain that fell this year, breathed oxygen this year. And her essence did not reach the gods through an altar fire, rather it entered into the truest and most significant transubstantiation, the same transubstantiation that occurred when the grass entered her four stomachs, a transubstantiation facilitated by water falling from the mountain skies of Colorado and the true and astounding miracle of photosynthesis. cattle-country-750

Ultimately our meal, not only the beef, but the green beans, the baked potatoes, the pasta and pineapple, the bacon bits and sour cream, was on the table, hecatombs for humans, by the power of nuclear fusion. The sun projects light and warmth into the solar system it holds in its gravitational thrall. On this earth the also miracle of evolution, began among the deep sea vents billowing out sulfur and heat from earth’s own interior, has found a way to embrace Sol, our sacred source of life and light.eat-sunshine (eatsunshine) We eat sunshine. Reimagining faith then must embrace astronomy, evolution, plant biology, animal science, human culture. This embrace occurs most intimately each time we sit down to eat, no matter the culture or religious beliefs represented. We live and move and have our being thanks to the elemental forces driving our local star and the astonishing fact that our planet has shaped its own elements into hands and leaves and hearts and minds able to receive those forces into our own bodies. Quite amazing.

Honoring the Sources of Our Food

Fall                                                                          Hunter Moon

carmichael-cattle2Divorce matters seem finally to be breaking Jon’s way. Can’t say more than that right now, but I’m glad.

Took a long ride with Kate out to Elizabeth, Colorado to the Elizabeth Meat Locker. We purchased a quarter side of beef from the Carmichael Cattle Company and they have a contract with the Elizabeth Meat Locker for butchering. We’d not been out this way, south and east of the Denver Metro, so it was an interesting drive. Passing through Parker we both commented on the area’s similarity to Chanhassen, Chaska, Jordan in Minnesota. Then the hilly country began to look like 169 headed to Mankato. Of course, to maintain these similarities we had to keep our eyes from the west where the Front Range rose.

5f184a8f0397565367e3ecd7aa12b9b3Elizabeth itself is a small rural community that could have been anywhere, usa. It has a small historic downtown; that is, older retail buildings repurposed into boutiques and a fiber art store and antique shops. Mainstreet is Co. Highway 86 and there is the obligatory Walmart anchored, downtown killer of a strip mall on the edge of town.

We ate at the Catalina Diner, a restaurant that would have felt at home in southern Indiana. It had automobile, 1950’s automobiles, posters, high-backed white booths, two lunch counters. Comfort food.

shootout-in-elizabeth
shootout-in-elizabeth

This whole journey was an unusually difficult one, emotional in a way I’ve found strange for over a year. Let me explain. Each time we headed down Shadow Mountain Drive for Aspen Park or Denver, we passed two small fields carved out of a narrow mountain meadow that sits under Conifer Mountain. It has two ponds, a few stands of trees, but is mostly grass.

Over the course of the year Carmichael Cattle has fed three angus and one hereford there. As we drove past, I would look for these cattle, tails twitching, heads down. Or, huddled together in the shade in a hot summer sun. Each time I was glad to see them. Glad these animals were there as we drove by. Part of my enjoyment of them was a tie to my rural roots in the Midwest. I miss the ever present signs of agriculture: fields of corn, fields of soybeans, tractors, combines, dairy and beef cattle. These cattle gave me a link back to the roadsides of my former life.

But. I also enjoyed them as individuals, seeing them interact with each other, wander off in search of a good spot to graze, standing next to each other. Each time I went past them I knew it could be that later in the fall I would be eating one of them. This made me sad and a bit forlorn, knowing that my heart was in conflict with my head.

carmichael-cattleMy head says ethnobotany. Our culture chooses our diet for us, decides which foods are tasty, which gross, which taboo. Our bodies are neither obligate carnivore nor obligate vegetarian. We are designed by evolution as omnivores, able, thankfully, to eat what the world places in front of us, be it plant or animal. This is a great advantage for us as a species and has allowed us to thrive in many diverse climates. There is nothing wrong, then, about eating meat, either from a biological or cultural perspective. Meat is simply one source of food.

But. I enjoyed seeing them as individuals. I knew they were individuals. I could tell by they way moved through the field. One seemed to gravitate toward the shade. Another seemed more social, following its colleagues closely. They were, in fact, separate from each other, unique, not cattle sui generis, but this cow, that bull. They were not, in other words, meat in the abstract, but meat on the hoof, meat as the muscle of living creatures, muscle that functioned within these animals I enjoyed.

carmichael-cattle3To purchase their meat was to kill them as surely as if I took a rifle out and shot them. Back in 1974 I moved onto the Peaceable Kingdom, a farm Judy and I bought in Hubbard County, Minnesota, the county home to the headwaters of the Mississippi. We had goats and decided we wanted to barbecue some goat meat. Johnny Lampo, the man who rented our fields and farmed them, gave me his rifle and I killed one of our our goats. I’ve not been the same since. I can’t even euthanize our dogs.

Though raised in the agricultural Midwest, though I attended 4-H fairs in my youth and state fairs in Indiana and Minnesota, though I knew well the connection between actual animals and the wrapped packages of hamburger, the sirloin steak, the lamb chop, the pork tenderloin, I had still been insulated from knowing that this cow, this bull was the source of my pot roast.

It was this awakened sensitivity, perhaps a sentimental one, ok, definitely a sentimental one, a sensitivity awakened in brief moments passing cattle in a mountain meadow that put my heart into conflict with my head. Even in my heart I don’t feel eating meat is wrong, but I do feel that knowing the animal from which my meat comes changes things. A lot.

http://aht.seriouseats.com/archives/2011/05/the-burger-lab-building-a-better-big-mac.html - 17So this evening when Kate cooks the ribeye steaks thawing right now in our sink, I plan to add a small ritual to the lighting of the shabbos candles and the sharing of challah. We will remember the animal that died so that we may eat, so that our bodies might be strong. We will thank this particular individual for the role he or she plays in our daily life. We will acknowledge the cycle of life, the interlocking web of life and our mutual parts in it.

This is, I think, one of the missing parts of our 21st century life, honoring the plants and animals that have to die to keep us alive. Without the heart connection we are rapers and pillagers of our environment, no better than Big Ag and its ruthless exploitation of the chain of life for profit.

 

 

Ordinary Time

Fall                                                                            Hunter Moon

arthur_szyk_1894-1951-_the_holiday_series_rosh_hashanah_1948_new_canaan_ct
arthur_szyk_1894-1951-_the_holiday_series_rosh_hashanah_1948_new_canaan_ct

The ten days of awe have ended, the book of life has been sealed. The year 5777 is well underway. In case you wondered, as I did, when the Jewish calendar began, it’s with creation. There are apparently fudges about the first six days and their length. One, for example, says the first four days could not have been 24 hours because the sun had not yet been created.

Anyhow, it’s similar to Bishop Ussher’s famous calculations in the Christian tradition. He estimated the age of the earth by counting generations from the 7th day of creation. “By Ussher’s calculations, we are now set to enter the year 6020: 4004 plus 2016. This is very close to Jewish tradition, which puts us in the year 5777.” Globe and Mail

We slide now into ordinary time until, that is, the next holiday. Which on the Jewish calendar is Sukkot, or the feast of the booths.

adam-and-eve-mapI now celebrate several distinct new years. The Jewish new year, just over, comes not long before the Celtic new year which begins on Samain eve, or All Hallow’s Eve, Halloween. The next one is the Western calendrical new year on January 1st and that is followed by the lunar Asian new year, which comes sometime in February. That’s at least four opportunities to assess the old year and make plans for the new one.

samhain-meditationThis fall season will end on Samain, the third of the three harvest holidays: Lughnasa, Mabon and Samain. The Celts began their new year with the end of the growing season, a last fruit’s festival, one marking the beginning of the fallow time. I like the specifically seasonal emphasis of Samain, tying the new year not to dogma or tradition or an arbitrary date like January 1, but to the cycle of life on earth, a cycle influenced by the sun.

Each of these new years has its own flavor, it’s own thing to commend it. A good deal, really, all these variations.