everything is green, the water flows strong

Now a month past Beltane, the lush green is full and as if it always has been. Roses begin to bloom, the garden wants planting and thunderstorms rock the land. The Maypole was torn out of the Earth by violent winds in a crazy storm one night just before the end of May. Sometimes the heat is already at times oppressive, the first fresh vegetables and fruits are at markets and bugs are constant. Days stretch until past bedtime, summer is now.

Some notes for the season:

Halfway from Beltane, it has rained for weeks, sometimes a deluge, sometimes just mist. The bottom of my skirt is soaked from wet grass- walking across the land and working in the garden. Finally the lilacs and the lilies of the valley have bloomed and the air is fragrant. Columbine, irises and chives show off their scarlet and purple heads. We have eaten bowls of violets, had armloads of daffodils, and the tulips are huge. The rose bushes are covered with buds, as are the lilies and the peonies. Summer flies towards us on raindrops.

But Beltane always seems to be the time of the flowering tree. Since this season was pleasantly slowed by cool weather, we had weeks of magnolias, dogwood and fruit trees blossoming. A magical world of flowers and mist.

We welcomed the season with an all day/late night celebration of Bryan with food and friends and community. Up before the dawn, waking up slow with the dew, washing my face and sleeping more.

We were up long before the day-o to welcome in the summertime to welcome in the May-o.

Young boys gathered violets and dandelions in the large wooden bowl for our purification wash. Simple food and water to share. Quiet weather matched our energy.

Setting up the maypole is always the work of both of us, male and female together, a balanced division of laboring. All the ribbons were there but were tangled-the long methodical unraveling of color and memory.

I wove daffodils of every variety from all over the land around the bicycle wheel crown of our Maypole.

I hold the pole steady while Bryan anchors it with rocks. this year did not take as many- just several large ones and an equal number of small. Then we stand back to see the ribbons sail.

Notes from the day:

Birds talk, telling each other to come or go. Redwing blackbirds, robins and blue jays and hummingbirds.

The aliveness of this earth.

Morning-after morning. Suddenly summer, where the outside hangout takes over. Lots of coffee and too many sweets. Bryan sitting with bees.

Bringing the fire to the fire, the all night burning fire re-kindled like magic with an instant giving needed warmth and embers for our sacred fire. The all night smolder to shed the winter.

Twice round the circle with crushed corn tortillas for the Earth Mother. Colored eggs for the directions, old dairy for the outsiders. Beer for the gates, Beer for Mananan, pork gravy for Bridget- sizzling and sparking.

Gently handing sacrifices one by one to Bryan. Barefoot on the earth, toes in dandelions. Feeling comfortable on the the earth, energy from the sun and earth mixing within our center. Being present in the present.

the stories of the oils:

The first for our Ancestors in the darkest blue glass was sweet almond oil. The next for the Spirits of Nature and Place in a medium blue glass was sunflower oil rich yellow and full of bubbles. The light blue glass- bright blue like the sky and very clean was for the Gods and Goddesses. Olive oil, green and rich filled the glass. For the Season -a pale green glass with a bit of each oil.

Then the essentials: for the Ancestors -sweet almond oil in a dark blue glass – VALOR, deep blue oil, strong – very slow to drop a single drop. Patience. for the Spirits of Nature and Place - sunflower oil in a medium blue glass- CLARITY- steadily dripping and fragrant. for the Gods & Goddesses- clear blue glass with green olive oil- MOTIVATION- flowing so fast it got 7 drops instead of 6. for the season – all 3 oils in the pale green glass- LAVENDER- coming out so slowly and sparsely only getting 3 drops.

flowers, flowers, thanks for the flowers- gratitude for past lives that they may come together now to support/ show present day self what it needs to know.

Past earth incarnations/selves coming together to support us with lessons.

Future earth

past and future together in flowers, petals blowing in the wind, ashes of petals blowing in the smoke.

flaming oil in the air.

chocolate, mussels, bread, smoldering baked smoke sacrifice carry our prayers and gratitude.

Bryan enveloped in the smoke asking for a sign from the spirits in our omens.

from our Ancestors- Berkanu, birch, birth and beginnings

from the Spirits of Nature & Place- Gibor, gift or sacrifice

from the Gods & Goddesses- Ingwaz, the seed, the growing and expanding

for the Season- Uruz, the ox, the wild ox, great primordial strength.

OGHAM- Straif- blackthorn meaning force.

Beginning. Giving. Seed. Strength. (life)FORCE

Our waters in the flowered jug, the blessings stopped by questions- then hallowed to transformation with the thick smoke. Abundant waters spilling on the grass. Drinking from champagne glasses.

time to shine.

the maypole dance – gentle and peaceful.

2 boys, 2 girls- naturally balanced with love.

over under, over under. Simply wound and then untangling the one ribbon, gently unwound.

the warm strength of the fire

the warm strength of the sun.

the rush of the stream, the wind blowing gently.

Camaraderie of good friends, women in the kitchen. Summer gatherings.

I gave the wilted hand wash flowers as thanks to the fire well and tree. Waiting at the well for the flowers to drift towards their journey downstream seemed like a lesson.

Last weekend there were only daffodils, no other flowers or leaves. Soon all will be fully leafed. But today, this May- I watch the buds open and the chartreuse darken to summer green.

transformation is complete and happens in an instant.

a new or different balance

from Equinox to almost Beltane we have ridden the waves of Spring.

We did our ritual just after the 5th grade play and it was just our family of 3 and 4 members of a school friend’s family. It was not rainy but it was not sunny either. So much is lost from the immediate moment, only the smiles, the bird calls, the clarity of the children remain.

We gathered and the kids played a bit and we talked about ritual and the holiday.

We were going to work with the nine virtues and pick random ones.

We were looking towards balance and Spring and we talked about balancing poses.

We layered up and processed to the 5 circle fire pit.

I love the children energy at ritual even when it is difficult.

But we hold each other and settle in.

Hudson was already out there, sitting in a chair with a cane because he had earlier slipped.

Offerings set in the platter, bento-box style. Wine glasses in a basket for the waters. Small colored glass vials of oils and hulls of sunflower-heads for sacrifice. The end of the apples and indoor grasses. We had other offerings of chicken backs, fat and bread. 

  

We had a good fire small and strong.                               We found our places around it.

We had it set up to wash our hands as we went into the circle but it was too cold. Instead of washing I honored the Directions and the Earth Mother tossing bird seed.

Our beautiful well, recently cleared of winter- Bryan had the Vervain  Stalks and sprinkled us with water. When he honored our fine willow tree the kids went to touch it. And our magical warm sparkling fire lit all our hearts.

Oils sizzled: sparks and flashes of sacrifice. 

The focus of the children framing ritual, not necessarily knowing what would happen next but open & trusting.

 

Our Omens for the seasons were as follows;

for the Ancestors we got Kinwaz – torch, can also be a wound or sore, can be to illuminate or to cut.

for the Spirits we got Thuriz or thorn- defense or protection, boundary

for the Gods and Goddesses- Eihwaz or the horse- the bond between the rider and the ridden

for the holiday we got Nathuz or need- the friction or the need fire, it is about knowing what you need

The Ogham we pulled was Yew – meaning the inevitable or unavoidable fate, lots of times it means death.

This was all about creating the boundaries and protection we need and our relationship between the Gods and Godesses in dealing with the inevitable.

None of this seemed foreboding however, but strengthened us though awareness. We gladly drank our fill of the refreshing waters, leaving some to spare.

 

When we pulled out the virtue cards. Bryan got 2 stuck together and then everyone picked 2 - one to keep, one to offer to the fire. Like poetry, the virtues filled each of us with our needs and direction.

What did you get?

Putting it all together, gathering, giving thanks, the last items burned, stirring the fire.

This ritual was held a week after the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. We prayed for healing for the earth.

We feasted like the family we are, brought together though our children for holiday.

Since then the weather has been strange at best- snow, ice, thunder storms, and perfect spring sun. Peepers and bugs and all sorts of birds appear. Buds and leaflets are now everywhere, daffodils bloom in profusion, the forsythia is brilliant down the mountain and just blooming here. Trees promise flowers and the grass almost needs cutting. Weeding the garden beds and creating new fences. Need to plant our seeds.

It seems of the upmost importance to be able to grow our food and to take better care of ourselves.

                 

 

 

 

 

         

The stark endless quiet whiteness of Winter erases all memory of Spring

Is it each winter that we declare the worst? Do we always say “but this winter was really brutal”?  It must be a trick of springtime that we are so beaten, so numbed by winter that the sight of the earth and green things coming back fills us with confusion and wonder. Like we had never seen the earth or felt the moss or heard birds sing.

Since our Imbolc it seems that the world has turned upside down. Changes, personal and planetary have erupted shifting our balance and forcing a re-focus. It has become even more imperative to make energetic progress in the good. Taking the high road, walking with compassion and in truth and with solidarity for each other. As the days imperceptibly lengthen, so too does our energy.

We have had snow and sleet and flooding rains. The earth has alternately been mud and frozen solid. But today we followed vole trails like ley lines and suddenly robins filled the yard. Bulbs are poking through the leaf mulch and all the bare branches carry a  faint cast of color.

I am looking forward to the equinox, to plant seeds and plan the garden, to let go and start fresh.

Come celebrate the balance of day and night with us. Sunday March 20th, gathering & rant at 4ish, ritual at 5ish, family style pot luck afterward. 

Open the Door, Let Bridget Come In

Dreaming many times of coffee, I woke up. There was a small dusting of snow and tiny flakes fell. Went to hang with the boy and cat, then suddenly “snowstorm!”

Raging large flakes pouring down and around. But by the time I got downstairs to make coffee, it had subsided to invisible dusting once again. Up like a tempest and sudden stops. Must be Bridget’s energy at work.

We looked for candles and set up lights on a Bridget idol in the center of the fire circle, on the old xmas trunk that is our tree there (now buried in the snow) and at the Bridget that lives always by the stream. The stream gurgles even where it lies under the snow and all around the birds talk and sing.

If its Imbolc you know we are either out of dry wood or out of wood altogether. Our fires struggle to temperature or even to light and though it is not that cold outside it is hard to get warm. The faintest of precipitation colored the air as we sat to eat, stumbling with the weather changes. Many cheeses and smoked salmon and fresh dill and three kinds of crackers and Irish soda bread and tea filled the table. We used Anna’s plate, left here last Imbolc, the last time we saw her alive. Somehow this holiday will always be connected with her spirit, her dynamism, and her strength

You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you.

Where to make fire, where to do ritual, how to keep a fire going? Bryan shovels the deck and I make food for the boy, and for later, cooking our pumpkin- the only one that grew from our many vines last year. Rain, ice and snow everywhere- a faint fog in the woods. Talking about what has changed since last season. More daylight, more life, more sounds outside, more hours in a week above freezing temperatures- and yet the silent monotone of winter still dominates. By next holiday we will be talking gardens and sprouting.

Bryan worried about fire, and having created tinder preparation in the kitchen hearth, went outside to try to rekindle the candles and the few sticks getting wet there.

The boy suited up and was ready when things were not but we got together as family to help create sacred space and fire.

I had gathered offerings of sage and flowers and milk for Bridget. It was raining gently but steadily and all the burnables were getting wet. I remembered the stalks and sticks in Urth Arts and got those as hope. Bryan and boy were digging down into the ice and snow and unearthed our fire pit, exposing logs buried for a season.

Suddenly we are a team-getting, breaking and laying sticks and Bryan lights first one candle then then next and with Bridget as his torch he lights our fire. WE HAVE FIRE. We get more branches and vines and feed our fire, small but true. It is exciting and we get ready. I get one more armload of sticks, bigger ones still, and Bryan comes out with his headress of reeds made and danced last year this time.

We are here to honor the Gods.

We had a threshold, a passageway dug in the snow to crossover into sacred space. Above it was the silver bowl of water for lustration perched in a bank of waist high snow. The water was warm, though the boy thought it cold and was distinct in both temperature and texture of the rain now beating our faces.

Inside the carved out space not quite a circle, we held hands and arms laying heads on hearts and breathed. We felt the air around us and the ground beneath us and each other together. Breathing to the sound of your heart. Feeling our love for each other. Something very special about family only rituals.

The boys glasses fogged and we opened, returning to tend our fire. Beginning with our earth mother, sprinkling a spiral of pumpkin seeds, home grown from our earth to our earth in gratitude and prayer.

The directions with rice and the red cardinal in the south, and the sun rising slightly more east, and the west place of our neighbors and the north of this season and healing and the center where we are.

The smoke takes me away through the gates and I need to go inside to get the outsiders offering and Bryan takes it out and brings inside a big box which he wonders if it is an omen.

Offerings for insider Bridget and honoring our dear kindred with sage and last month’s flowers (“the ones that smelled so sweet”). Keeping the fire alive.

Dancing thrice through Bridget's girdle. Keeping the beat. Fire blazing at the mention of her name. Pouring Elizabeth’s mead in a circle around the fire. The rest of the dry harvested grasses flaming as final sacrifice. Full on rain filling our glasses before the waters.

Bryan pulled Ogham and Runes as omen

Ogham

from our Ancestors: Ngetal or Reed- it has to do with healing, lots of associations with bending and the life inside- related to Bridget and this holiday

from the Spirits of Nature and Place: Beith or Birch- new beginnings, birth – also related to Bridget

from the Gods & Goddesses: Huath or Hawthorne- chastity and purity, purification

for the season: Dair or Oak- the one who knows, the way, the door, also relates to Bridget

Runes

from our Ancestors: Nathuz or need, the friction fire or the drill fire- sometimes made with reeds

from the Spirits of Nature and Place: Ehwaz –the horse- the vehicle and facilitator of action, very similar to Birch

from the Gods & Goddesses: Elwaz – an elk sedge- a sharp and pointy be careful thing, it is about attention and being on guard-very similar to Hawthorne

for the season: Wunjo or joy- the joy of good company, merriment, simple joy

vortex of smoke carrying me away through the stinging tears that would not stop. I put ice on my eyes and still could not staunch the water pouring from them.

Drinking it all in we gather and hug and give thanks and process indoors, inviting Bridget in to light and alight above our kitchen hearth.

we feast and bring in our cloth frozen with the touch of Bridget and precipitation, our healing talisman for the year.

Candle burns on the hearth all night, vigil for spirit.

fog food flowers fire

Imbolc morning snow and quiet, working to get the fire going

THERE IS A VITALITY,

A LIFE FORCE, THAT IS TRANSLATED

THROUGH YOU INTO ACTION.

AND BECAUSE THERE IS ONLY ONE OF YOU

IN ALL TIME, THIS EXPRESSION IS UNIQUE.

AND IF YOU BLOCK IT,

IT WILL NEVER EXSIST THROUGH ANY OTHER MEDIUM

AND WILL BE LOST.

THE WORLD WILL NOT HAVE IT.

IT IS NOT YOUR BUSINESS TO DETERMINE HOW GOOD IT IS;

NOR HOW VALUABLE IT IS;

NOR HOW IT COMPARES WITH OTHER EXPRESSIONS.

IT IS YOUR BUSINESS TO KEEP IT YOURS,

CLEARLY AND DIRECTLY,

TO KEEP THE CHANNEL OPEN.

YOU DO NOT EVEN HAVE TO BELIEVE IN YOURSELF

OR YOUR WORK.

YOU HAVE TO KEEP OPEN AND AWARE DIRECTLY TO THE URGES

THAT MOTIVATE YOU. KEEP THE CHANNEL OPEN.

NO ARTIST IS PLEASED.

THERE IS NO SATISFACTION WHATEVER AT ANY TIME.

THERE IS ONLY A QUEER, DIVINE

DISSATISFACTION,

A BLESSED UNREST THAT KEEPS US MARCHING

AND MAKES US MORE ALIVE

THAN THE OTHERS.

Martha Graham to Agnes B. DeMille