Category Archives: Great Work

Ancientrails The GreatWheel

Winter                                                       New Seed Catalog Moon

I’ve begun to mull a second blog, one that would focus on the Greatwheel, dividing its posts into 8 seasons:  Samhain, Winter, Imbolc, Spring, Summer, Lughnasa, Fall and Samhain.

Over the course of those seasons I would write a beginning piece for the season as I do now on Ancientrails, but then continue through that season posting thematically about the season, holidays in that time period, special days of the year, phrenology, gardening, environmental and climate matters, probably some astronomy and archaeo-astronomy.  I would include myths pertinent to the season, too.  Perhaps some I’ve translated from the Latin.

This appeals to me because I’ve tried to lever myself into a theological treatise on the my neopagan faith, but the idea has never taken off.  I think the notion is too abstract and the fact of this tactile, coarse spirituality, one that gets its hands dirty as an act of devotion, lends itself better to this kind of over the course of the year exposition.

Any feedback anyone might have would be welcome.  Ancientrails would continue. It’s a well ingrained habit at this point.  If I decide to start, Imbolc, February 1st, would be a good time.

2014 Intentions

Winter                                                         New (Seed Catalog) Moon
Having presented a prod toward humility and non-attachment here are some of my intentions and hopes for the New Year:

1.  A healthy and joyful family (including the dogs)

2. Sell Missing

3. Have substantial work done on Loki’s Children

4. Translate at least book one and two of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

5. Have a productive garden and orchard, beautiful flowers

6. Host a Beltane and a Samhain bonfire to open and close the growing season

7. Establish a new beeyard and have a decent honey harvest

8. Have a new and consistent way to include art in my life

9. Consider a new blog focused solely on the Great Wheel and the Great Work

10. Feed the autodidact with a few more MOOCs

On the Margins

Samhain                                                                  Winter Moon

We’re in the dark period of the year, the time when the Winter Solstice stands out even among long nights as longer and deeper. Tonight, all Solstice eve, it’s 4:30 pm and twilight fell a while ago.  Snow comes down, adding to an inch or so to what we got over last night, all accumulating on top of the snows of early December.

Let me demonstrate how odd my religious situation is.  When my doctor, Corrie Massie, asked me what plans I had for Christmas, without thinking, I said, “We’re Jewish.”  Now we’re Jewish in that I support Kate’s Judaism, but what I really meant was, “I don’t celebrate the Christian holiday.”  Didn’t want to start with the whole theological narrative in my doctor’s office so my unconscious answered.  Not a lie, just not the whole truth.

No elevator speech for following the rhythmic cycles of nature, for celebrating not transcendence but immanence.  No quick way to say I’m an outlier here, too, standing on the margins of religion.  So often I find myself in conversations where I just don’t want to go through the whole analysis to explain myself.

Yes, too much carbon dioxide is, will be a problem. The unseemly gathering of wealth threatens the fabric of our culture.  No, I’m not really a Democrat and am planets away from Republicans.  Tea Party?  Different universe.  No, I don’t use pesticides.  Yes, we grow a lot of our own food and keep bees.  Oh, and I have a son in the Air Force who now has aspirations to become a general officer, to make sure authentic folks have their say.  No, mining minerals on the border of the Boundary Waters Wilderness does not make sense.  Socialism and single-payer health from Mark Odegardcare?  Sign me up.  I’m glad China and the rest of Asia have begun to grow strong.  I love the U.S.A.  Cable television?  Cut the cord.  That sort of thing.

I guess I’m at an age where I’m living the life I chose and choose, yet no longer have that evangelical zeal for my decisions.  Maybe because I recognize more and more how many right answers there are.

 

Repent Or Face Damnation

Samhain                                                                      Winter Moon

Samhain ends tomorrow with the arrival of the Winter Solstice.  The long fallow season following Summer’s End fades into the coldest months of the year.  Here in Minnesota the coldest days of the year begin on December 1st, meteorological winter; the old calendar reflects a different climate situation in Ireland and Britain.  Still, that calendar and its larger cultural context is the one which continues to influence our holy day practices.  Christmas comes on the celebration of Sol Invictus, the all the conquering sun, a Roman holy time set by the coming of the Winter Solstice.

Paul Strickland heard a Christian talk radio show lamenting the re-emergence of Winter Solstice celebrations and complaining that everyone knows Christmas came long before such pagan holy days.  We all laughed.  Christmas is a late addition to the Winter Solstice celebration collection and not a very important holiday among Christians until the Victorian era.

When Samhain ends at the Winter Solstice, the old growing season shifts from the death and desiccation of fall into decay and enrichment, preparing the way as the light begins to increase.   When Persephone returns to the Underworld to rule with Hades, the active forces of the soil begin their work in earnest, breaking down the fallen, dead and rotting materials into rich nutrients that feed soil organisms and will feed plants when Persephone returns home to her mother Demeter in the spring.

James Hillman said we see the gods today in our pathologies and I suppose that’s true in his sense, but the gods of polytheism suffered their Nietzschean fate long ago and have come again in more than psychological ways.

As Paul Ricoeur suggests, Christian’s familiar with biblical scholarship might return to the texts with a second naivete and see them once again as holy; so, I would suggest that the gods and goddesses of polytheism have long since resurrected, once again ready to offer themselves to us. All we need is our second naivete to see them. They can help us follow the recurring cycles of nature and understand them as powerful and dynamic realities, ones to which we owe allegiance.

Our blasphemy toward the old gods has created environmental havoc. We wantonly pollute–in the religious as well as the chemical sense–Poseidon’s ocean, Persephone and Hades’ soil, Zeus’s sky and even Aurora’s dawn.  Perhaps only Apollo’s Sun has escaped our meddling.

We are heretics to the old religions and we have paid the price.  If we do not repent, it will lead, as the logic of religion suggests, to our damnation.

 

Winter Is Coming

Samhain                                                             Winter Moon

Winter Solstice.  It comes with silent steps, the moon shining through leafless trees, scattering the snow with shadows.  This is a moment between one turn and the next, a still point, a dark still point out of which will come light, enough light to thaw the ground, lure plants from beneath the earth, give them strength and plump up their fruits.  But now, this night, is the culmination of darkness coming toward us one minute at a time until we reach the longest night of the year.

This waning of the light has killed back the plants of summer, shucked the leaves off the trees, frozen the rain so it falls as snow.  This is the season that shows the other face of nature.  This is earth as a receiver of the dead, as a particle disaggregator, a rapacious devourer of life.  Earth as scavenger, cavern, dark sea bottom.  This is the earth as whole, not only giving, but also taking.

When Hades comes for Persephone, he takes life back inside the earth.  He changes her, makes her a part of his realm.  In this marriage of Hades and Persephone we see death preceding life as the Mexica poet said.

In the dark and the quiet of the Winter Solstice night we can draw near to this truth.  We can know that even our own death will do no more than take us back to the earth from which we came and that even that death will not be final as our consciousness is born anew with each birth and our physical self is born anew as plant and animal.  What more wonder do we need at this time of year, in this, the Holiseason?

(Hades and Persephone:  King and Queen of the Underworld)

Please Help Stop This Mine

Samhain                                                           Winter Moon

Today’s Star-Tribune has an excellent article by Lee Schafer, business columnist:  PolyMet mine report has a giant hole in it.

An excerpt:

“Late last week, the voluminous environmental impact report for the first project in what could be a major expansion of mining in Minnesota, PolyMet Mining’s proposed copper-nickel mining operation near Hoyt Lakes, was released, but without much that was meaningful about financial assurance.

(William Ervin)

It’s baffling that over a decade into the project’s evolution, the public still knows next to nothing about the financial assurance provision. It’s hardly trivial, given that the proposed mining and processing operation could require the treatment of water for more than 500 years.

The idea behind requiring financial assurance to make sure there’s money to contain and clean up polluted sites is really pretty simple. A mine is operated by a corporation that could go bankrupt, or fold up like a circus and leave town once the money has all been made and the mine is played out…

It takes up a little over three pages in a report so big that just the glossary alone is nearly five times bigger. It has a one-line table, showing estimates of cost if the mine were to close at the end of year one, at the end of year 11, or at the end of year 20. The high end of the cost-estimate range is $200 million….

If operating a water treatment facility costs $1 million a year, the financial assurance for PolyMet should be easily manageable, he said. “But if that operating cost got up to $10 million a year, that is pushing $1 billion to pay for that. That’s why at PolyMet it becomes an issue.””

Financial assurance connects directly to the question of tailings runoff.  PolyMet will claim that its estimates are correct because their new, never-before-proven technology will create safer tailings and tailing’s ponds.  No sulfide mine ever, anywhere has created a safe tailing’s situation.

The basic problem is simple.  The overburden and the rock not containing copper, nickel and other valuable metals contains sulfur. When rain and snow and sleet fall, melting water runs through the massive hills of tailings.  The water which runs off the tailings creates a sulfuric acid load.  But, it’s water, too.  So it flows into the watershed around the Hoyt Lake’s plant.

“That sulfates can kill manoomin is evidenced by the Wild Rice Dead Zone – a stretch that begins where the Bine-ziibi (Partridge River) enters into Gichigamiwi-ziibi (St. Louis River) and extends 140 miles to the Anishinaabeg-Gichigami Maamawijiwan (Lake Superior Basin). The Wild Rice Dead Zone is the result of extremely high concentrations of sulfate released by U.S. Steel’s Keetac and Minntac taconite mines. Sulfide mining will add yet more sulfates into rivers and lakes thereby affecting the food that grows on water.”   (IC Magazine, Supporting Indigenous People)

A bonus feature of this area is that a confluence of continental divides makes some water head down the Mississippi to the dead zones of the Gulf, some water heads into Lake Superior on ies way to the Atlantic, while other water drains out of the tailings ponds into streams headed for Hudson Bay.  That way one mine can pollute three different large bodies of water and streams and rivers along the way.

Thus, to prevent acid drainage over the potentially 500 year long exposure to toxic runoff either requires a lot of money or excellent unproven technology.  Or, ideally, both.

As Schafer points out in a video discussion, Shakespeare was writing 500 years ago.  500 years is a long time.  The iron range gets 20 years of jobs against centuries of ruinous pollution.  Public policy must weigh the balancing benefits.

 

 

Bunny Lives Close By

Samhain                                                     Winter Moon

That bunny buddy lives under the boulder wall just to the west of my north facing IMAG1224window.  He came out this morning, stopped to look in the window a couple of times, stared at me, then proceeded on down the bunny trail.  This not so ancientrail takes him along the north side of the house and out to a part of the front which slopes up to seven oaks.  At least I imagine that’s where he’s headed since there are dogwoods, spirea and new ash saplings on the hillside.  Good rabbit food.

This entire week stays cold, then we hit some mid-twenties next Saturday.  Plus new snow today.  This could be another old-fashioned Minnesota winter.  I hope so.  It shaves off some of the pain of global warming.

Holding the reins for the four horsemen? Humanity

Samhain                                                                   Winter Moon

“Man is the unnatural animal, the rebel child of nature, and more and more does he turn himself against the harsh and fitful hand that reared him.”

H.G. Wells

I’ve seen several positive developments in the war against the war on Mother Earth. 11,000+ Minnesotans asked the Public Utility Commission to shut down the Sherco coal-fired electrical generation plants.

Another 12,000 have questioned the optimistic analysis of the Polymet Corporation in their Environmental Impact Statement for a copper-nickel mine on the border of the Boundary Waters Wilderness.  They claim to have a technology that will do what no other sulfide mine in the world, ever, has done:  control sulfuric acid runoff from mine-tailings.  Prove it first makes sense to me.  Pay for the probability of failure up front with a bond equal to the amount the state calculates will be necessary to contain the tailings also makes sense to me.  Meet these two criteria then we can talk.

There is, too, an article in the Economist that suggests large corporations expect to pay a carbon tax and will do so willingly.  This is good news.

Here’s the link to H.G. Wells.  If we don’t do these things, and the items mentioned here are minimums and much, much more will be required of us, it is not the earth that will suffer.  The natural world changes.  That’s what it does.  It always changes.  If we accelerate change in a particular direction, then it is not the planet but humanity that is at peril.  The risk in all these matters is the extinction of the human race.

This may be the apocalypse so often bruited as caused by an angry god.  The hand holding the reins for the four horsemen is not divine, it is all too human.

Be Glad You Exist

Samhain                                                            Thanksgiving Moon

Thankful.  Grateful.  Still here.

Yes, that’s the  prerequisite to all that follows, my living presence to write these words. And, yes, damn it, I’m grateful to be alive.

When I visited Constanta, Romania a year and a half ago, I went there as a pilgrimage to the place of Ovid’s exile.  This is a city that has Roman (Romania!) roots.  Outside an excellent museum of Roman and Greek antiquities (it was a Greek trading port first.), there was a collection of grave markers.  On one of them was this line:  Be Glad You Exist.  That’s what I would call ur-gratitude.  Thankfulness for living.

It’s where I’ll start.  Beyond consciousness and good health in my own case I’m thankful for the same in Kate, the dogs, family, friends and even a few others.  Our home.  Our buddies and colleagues the bees, the soil and the plants which grow in it, those past and those to come.  The orchard and the trees in our woods.  All the critters, sleeping and active that call it home.

Extending all that in a generally cosmic direction, I am grateful for the physics that allow us to exist at all, the sun for its energy, the planet for its hospitable climate (sorry about that hot pack, Gaia) and the North American continent for its wildness and its cities and towns.  Yes, the suburbs, too.  Even Andover.

Language.  English.  Being able to communicate with each other, even through such a flawed and miraculous medium.  What would life be without language?  Western medicine.  Often maligned, but my fav.  Western civilization.  Also often maligned, but mine and yours.  At least most of you who read this.  And just as worthy a human artifice as anyone else’s.

Of course the internet.  Cyberspace.  What a wonder to an old man raised with bakelite phones, 6 digit phone numbers, a time before tv.  So much.  So much to say thank you for. More than can be expressed in any list, no matter how long.

How about, for example, oxygen?  Or the properties of water?  We are made of stardust, animated elements spun out so long ago at the birth not of our nation, not of our planet, not of our solar system, not of our galaxy, but of our universe.  And now they walk, talk, consider their origin.  How damned amazing is that?

So.  Thanks.

 

Black Fish

Samhain                                                              Thanksgiving Moon

In a way I didn’t want to watch it.  Black Fish.  I knew from the trailer that it would make me mad and sad in equal measure.  But we watched it tonight anyhow.

It made me hang my head in shame as a member of the human race.  Tilikum, the raked male who pulled a SeaWorld trainer to her death in 2010, had been taken from Puget Sound as a youngster.  These are animals that never leave their mother’s side, remaining in pods that are like small aquatic nations with differing cultures and language.

It screams slavery.  Families broken up, individuals bought and sold for their ability to entertain or, in Tilikum’s case, provide consistent semen for artificial insemination.  Animals who might swim 100 miles in a day in the wild are confined for life in concrete pools, and shut away at night in even smaller pens with no lights and no access to the sky.

In the wild males like Tilikum are kept at the margins of the pods, ruled by the mothers with matriarchal dominance.  In captivity, unable to escape, Tilikum suffered repeated attacks by the females, especially at night when shut up with them in the smaller pen.

By the end I was crying and wanting to hold someone accountable.  This is an outrage.  It’s not the only one and it may not be the worst one, but it is unconscionable and wrong.  The orca brain has an extended organ within it, a larger element than similar organs in humans.  A neuroscientist who studied orcas under magnetic resonance imaging and in autopsies said their brain just shouts emotion.  They are very social animals who appear to have taken life together a level beyond what we can understand.  And we put them in pens so we can sell plush toys?