Category Archives: Holidays

Lughnasa 2011

Lughnasa                                                          Waxing Honey Flow Moon

The third cross-quarter holiday in the Celtic calendar, Lughnasa follows Beltain and proceeds Samhain, thus it cuts the once much longer Beltain season, essentially the growing and harvesting season, in half.  It marks the first fruits of the harvest, a time of gathering in and being nourished by the summer’s heat, the plants’ flourishing.  Lughnasa apparently celebrates the god Lugh, a sun-god, though the relation between him and this festival is uncertain.  The Catholics honor this pagan tradition through the feastday, Lammas, when parishioners bring in bread from the first grains harvested.

In the old days these festivals lasted a week or more, with farmers coming into the village from the countryside or meeting at a customary spot to set up a market.  Feasting, drinking, games, searching for a mate or for work blended with the serious task of laying up sufficient stores to survive the winter, foreshadowed now by the earlier setting of the sun.

A remnant of these market fairs continues on in county fairs and state fairs where feasting, drinking, games, searching for a mate or work blends with honoring those who still provide our food.  Yes, we have the grocery store now and no we don’t wonder about surviving the winter, at least many of us don’t, but the old need to come together and crown a Princess Kay of the Milky Way, to sculpt her in butter lingers.

Lughnasa here at Artemis Hives will find the honey harvest joining the tomatoes, the potatoes, beets, carrots, beans and onions.  It also finds us reaping the harvest of new learning:  Latin, Tai Chi, quilting techniques, potting and celebrating family.  The dogs have become a calmer pack thanks to an investment of time over the last few months.  Mark has made some progress towards a job and a healthier future.

Celebrate your harvest, too.  Raise a glass of wine or water, eat a meal with friends and loved ones.  Wear a flower garland and go the state fair or the farmer’s market.  Why?  Because these are things we humans have done for centuries, for millennia, they keep us alive and healthy.

Beltane 2011

Beltane (May 1)                                                        Waning Bee Hiving Moon

A bit about how I got interested in the auld religion, the ancient Celtic faery faith and from it, the Great Wheel.

23 years ago I left the Presbyterian ministry and wandered off into a life I could never have anticipated.  The writing turn I took then led me to investigate my Celtic past, the heritage of my Welsh and Irish ancestors.  I learned about Richard Ellis, son of a Welsh captain in William of Orange’s army who was stationed in Dublin.  After his father’s death, his mother paid Richard’s fare to America, to Virginia, where he was to become heir to a relative’s land, a common practice at the turn of the century since children died so often.  This was 1707.

Also a common practice at the turn of the century was a ship captain’s larceny, stealing Richard’s fare and selling him into indentured servitude in Massachusetts.   Richard went on to found the town of Asheville, Massachusetts and become a captain in the American Revolution.

My own other Celtic ancestors, the Correls, were famine Irish, part of the boat loads forced out of Ireland by the failed potato crop, or an Gorta Mór it is known in Gaelic, the great hunger. (Incidentally, this was due to planting potatoes as a mono-culture, much like we plant corn, soybeans and wheat today.)  They came to this country in the mid 19th century.

I did not go into the history of Wales at the turn of the 18th century, nor did I investigate the an gorta mor and its aftermath.  Instead, I went further back, into ancient Ireland and Wales; in fact I looked at all the Celtic lands, Isle of Mann, Scotland, Brittany and Galicia as well.  What fascinated me then, and still does now, was the auld religion, the Faery Faith, as represented in The Fairy Faith by W. Y. Evans-Wentz, more famous as the translator of the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Not long after leaving the Presbyterian ministry I packed my bags for a week + at St. Denioll’s, a residential library in Hawarden, Wales.  While there I wandered northern Wales, visiting holy wells, castles and Welsh villages.  There was also an extensive collection of Celtic material at St. Denioll’s. Continue reading Beltane 2011

So, Why Get Up At 4 AM?

Spring                                                 Waning Bee Hiving Moon

As the bee hiving moon fades to black, it makes way for the last frost moon.  Our last frost up in the northern exurbs of the Twin Cities comes somewhere between May 15 and May 20 on average.  May 15 is the date I use because I haven’t experienced a later frost, but it could happen.  That’s the date the tomato plants go out, the kale and chard I’ve started (though I’ve also sown them outside, too), the beans, cucumbers and various annual flowers.

Tomorrow the Celtic calendar, the one I follow in addition to Gregorius’s, turns over to the season of Beltane.  More on that Sunday.

Today is a rainy, cool day unfit for working with bees.  Good for transplanting though, but I don’t have any more to do right now.

There was a royal wedding, wasn’t there?  No, I did not get up at 4 am for a breakfast party to watch it, nor did I watch the 68 minute version Kate and Mark watched yesterday.  I did scroll through pictures on the LA Times website.  Got me wondering.  Why all the attention in this, the most plebeian of powerful nations?

I stipulate the romantic notion of princess and prince, especially the steroidal version that involves a commoner elevated by marriage to royalty.  We have a 5 year old grand-daughter who would have no trouble seeing herself in Kate Middleton’s role.  Middleton, eh.  Even the name reeks bourgeois. I stipulate further the fascination of any marriage as a symbol for that fragile, wonderful, ordinary miracle of love.  I know these two play a factor, a large factor.

But 4 am?  What’s up with that?   Rather, who’s up with that? Continue reading So, Why Get Up At 4 AM?

At The Midnight Hour

Imbolc                                                     Waxing Bridgit Moon

Reading the pages from Missing, making marks here and there with my pencil, amazed at the material that has come from me, from some part of me, a part I may not know well myself.  A strange feeling, as if a new relation were to be discovered in a family, familiar, yes, but whose origins are unclear.

The night has fallen and the temperature has dropped to zero, an odd idea, it seems to me, a place between high and low, a balance point below which we know cold lurks, a point of no temperature, zero.  Odd.

Kate worked tonight, as she did last Wednesday, seeing 19 patients.  That’s her old pace, back before the pains began.  If she did it night after night, it would debilitate her, but now she doesn’t return to work until the 14th.

Valentine’s Day is my birthday, as it has been for 63 years, soon to be 64.  Inching toward the 65th, still one of those birthdays, a turning point, a bridge.  One more year to go.

It’s About Time

Winter                                                                 Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning.” – T.S. Eliot

Though the calendar, as reformed by Julius Caesar and then Pope Gregory XIII*, rolls over tonight at midnight, and, confusingly to me, has already rolled over on several midnights already, you might notice that the time I keep remains the same.  Tomorrow we will still be in Winter and the Moon of the Winter Solstice will still be waning.  The Great Wheel does not recognize a calendar; it counts time by terrestrial movement through the heavens, moving, instead of hands, solar radiation and expressing itself not in hours or minutes but by days and nights and seasons.  Of course, an accurate calendar makes sense for the world of humans because we figure time in much smaller units and like to be able to do things according to spans of weeks, months, years though these are not, no matter what some might say, natural measures.  They are measures created by the human mind, invented to follow our fascination with chronological time, that is linear time, probably occasioned by our awareness of death.

Note, however, that measuring time does not create more of it, nor make of it less.  All calendars and clocks do is divide up the turning days and advancing nights, make smaller divisions in the more basic cyclical time generated by spaceship earth in its star-loving path.

We can choose which time we want to emphasize in our lives.  I prefer the cyclical time, the turning of the Great Wheel of the heavens, the coming of light and dark, the changes of spring, summer, fall and winter.  As much as possible I try to order my life and encourage myself to respond to seasonal change, but I, too, live in a world in which I am 63, soon to turn 64 in the year 2011, the third millennia after another bout of terrorism in the Middle East.  In this world people will only release money to me based on the linear trajectory of this body.  As for me, I cherish now the inner life brought on by the long nights, the cold and snow.

When spring breaks winter’s grip and flowers begin to push through the earth, when the garlic and the strawberries and the asparagus start anew to grow and flourish above ground,  then too, will I cherish the smell of moist soil carried to me by moist early spring air.  It will not matter to me whether that time comes in March or April or May.  Oh, it may matter to the horticultural me who needs to get leeks and peas and lettuce and other vegetables planted in their due time, but even those kind of changes cycle, too.  The bees will re-emerge to begin their dance with the blooming things, driven not by the clock, but by the presence or absence of the sun, the bright colors of flowering plants and the demands of the colony.

We have our preferences, I know, and mine for many years was the dayplanner, meeting time, always moving stream of time.  No longer.  At least not when I’m at my best.

*wikipedia  “The Gregorian calendar, also known as the Western calendar or the Christian calendar, is the internationally accepted civil calendar. It was introduced by Pope Gregory XIII, after whom the calendar was named, by a decree signed on 24 February 1582, a papal bull known by its opening words Inter gravissimas.[4] The reformed calendar was adopted later that year by a handful of countries, with other countries adopting it over the following centuries. The motivation for the Gregorian reform was that the Julian calendar assumes that the time between vernal equinoxes is 365.25 days, when in fact it is about 11 minutes less. The accumulated error between these values was about 10 days when the reform was made, resulting in the equinox occurring on March 11 and moving steadily earlier in the calendar. Since the equinox was tied to the celebration of Easter, the Roman Catholic Church considered that this steady movement was undesirable.”

A Visit From the Goon Squad

Winter                                                               Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

More time with Ovid.  It went slower today, but I’m down to verse 60, at least with my rough draft translation.  Tomorrow Greg and I will go over it, give me a lesson in Latin vocabulary and grammar, polish my work.  We’ll also further refine my knowledge of ablative absolutes and the passive periphrastic.  Which needs, I must say, refining.

Kate’s down to 8 days, 7 days after tonight.  She’s almost giddy.  We’re still putting the finishing touches on her party.  It will be a lot of fun.

Started the HBO series, The Pacific, tonight.  I know something about the European theatre of WWII, but almost nothing about the Pacific.  This should be a good start, give me a way to guide some future reading.

I’m reading a holiday gift, A Visit From The Goon Squad.  The goon squad is time.  Jennifer Egan has taken material not very interesting to me, the music business, lives of socal punk era kids and made them into a combination medieval morality play and cinema verite.  A good read.  I recommend it.

5 Useless Days

Winter                                                          Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

Now we come to my favorite days of the year, those between Christmas and New Years.   When I used to work for the Presbytery (a part of the Presbyterian church analogous to the Catholic diocese), no one in the church world wanted to talk to judicatory staff just after the major work around Christmas.  That meant a holiday of sorts with a light work load.  Later, I learned that the Maya called these the 5 useless days at the end of the year.  I don’t recall why but they saw them as  problematic in some way.

Not me.  I view them as a sort of secular time out of time, a hole in the calendar when expectations are low, interruptions minimal.  Often I’ve used them for mini-retreats, focusing on some area or another I’ve wanted to give some in depth time.  Though I haven’t decided yet, I may choose to get deeper into Ovid.

Anyhow, enjoy these days.  They are a holiday from holidays.

Quiet Holidays

Winter         Christmas Day                               Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

Kate got me a very funky, floppy, curly haired Woolly Mammoth.  I’ve plopped him on the grand piano for now.  He awaits a name, which has not come to me yet.

Santa passed us by otherwise, going on to homes with little boys and girls, waking up bright eyed, eager, hopeful.  The run up to Christmas with movies, music, lights, commercials, worship services, letters to the editor complaining about this aspect or another of how we celebrate it, cranks everybody into a mild, or not so mild, frenzy, hoping, hoping, hoping that their strategy for this Christmas will be the one.  It was here.

We eased through the holidays on a slow, modest note with a few gifts sent out to the grandkids and kids, not much else.

Yo, Yo, Yo

Winter                                                Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

(from yesterday)

Yo, yo, yo.  Merry Christmas.   My stocking today brimmed over with absolutes and passive periphrastics.  Show you how far I am from school.  I’m doing the optional exercises in the back of Wheelock and bought a workbook so I’ll have even more.  Why?  Want to learn this stuff so it stays.  Even with that I know it will require regular work to keep my skills up.  Fortunately, that’s why Jupiter made Ovid.

Kate has 13 working days until she walks out the door forever as a full-time employee.  She’ll stay on as a casual employee for a couple of years, 4-6 shifts a month, and then after that.  Nada.  Nihil.  Non.

Today.  I burrowed into Wheelock yesterday.  Guess I’ve found my hobby.  Or, my vocation/avocation.  Into the museum for a Thaw and an Embarrassment tour.  Then back for more Latin.

Light and Dark

Samhain                                            Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice

The holidays.  Important for personal reflection, even have the ability to transform a life as we lay our lives alongside the possibilities suggested by Thanksgiving, Chanukah, Christmas, the Winter Solstice, New Years.  Birthdays, anniversaries, too, can reach into the deep part of your self, we can call it soul, and help you see yourself in the other.  Maybe, they let you see in there, too.  Holidays are a time out of time, a break in the straight ahead, up and at’em busyness of career, family, school.

There is, though, a dark side to the holidays.  All moments of possibility contain paths that lead not to transformation but to destruction, temptation, agony and pain.  The dark paths often emerge when the vulnerability and self-intimacy of the holiday intersects old ways of being, often ways learned in family settings, banished most of the year; but, as family and holiday conjoin, the vulnerability allows the past to rise quickly, to overwhelm.

This is as the Tao teaches us.  Even the dark side of the holidays offers a chance to become new, a chance to take the past and place it in a new frame, a way of understanding that puts the past in its own place and leaves the future open, perhaps even better for the relocation.

Darkness is not, in itself, bad.  Nor is light, in itself, good.  Too much light prevents our ability to see.  “Light is the enemy of art,” as the curator of the Thaw wing of the Fenimore museum said.  Darkness nurtures and heals, is a time for sleep, for seeds to germinate.  The holidays bring a special charge to the light and the darkness in our lives.  Our task is to open ourselves to what each has to offer us; to take it in and accept the possibilities.