Monday, 30 July 2018

Lammas or Lughnasadh?





Lammas or Lughnasadh (pronounced LOO-nah-sah) is generally celebrated by Pagans on 1st August, a date pretty much midway between the Summer Solstice (aka Litha) and the Autumn Equinox (aka Mabon). Many of us use the terms 'Lammas' and 'Lughnasadh' interchangeably (I am guilty of this myself). So what exactly is the difference between the two?

In many ways they are the same festival. Lughnasadh is the Gaelic name for this date, and literally means 'Lugh's Gathering'. Some people have interpreted the nature of the Gathering as a wake for the God Lugh, in his role as a sun deity - the summer sun now beginning to wane as the days begin to shorten as we move further away from the Summer Solstice when the sun's influence was at its peak - and others as a celebration of His wedding. What is certain is that Lughnasadh was marked by great gatherings of people (often high on hills or mountains or at holy wells), celebrating the harvest of the 'first fruits', feasting, matchmaking and athletic competitions. 

Lammas is the Anglo-Saxon name for the festival and is a contraction of the words 'Loaf Mass' and also celebrates the harvest of 'first fruits', in this case specifically the beginning of the grain harvest. The first loaves baked from the new crop of wheat, barley or rye would be taken to church to be blessed.

Lughnasadh has more obviously ancient roots and may therefore appeal more to purists, Lammas has the advantage of being easier to spell and pronounce! Or there's the Welsh name for the festival, Gŵyl Awst, (pronounced Gool OWst) meaning 'August Festival'. Either way I think in this case unless you are following a specific Tradition whichever name you use is fine, rather like Samhain/Hallowe'en. Yes, they do have different overtones but as long as people get the general gist of what is being spoken about it probably doesn't matter too much to most of us.

What does matter is the meaning of the festival. It is a time for celebration - community gatherings, reaping the results of hard work, the beginning of (hopefully) a time of plenty for all. But interestingly it is tinged with sadness too. The sun is beginning to wane, the end of the summer (though still at a distance) is beginning to be glimpsed. The God of the Grain, in order to feed His people must be sacrificed. Just around the corner is winter - will it be harsh? Will there be enough of a harvest to ensure the community can get through the long, dark days? No wonder our Ancestors gathered together to celebrate while they could, to give thanks for the harvest gathered in. 

Nowadays most of us are lucky enough to have food security, yet it is still a good time to pause and count our blessings. One way our local Pagan community has often celebrated this is with a 'Basket of Abundance' at our Lammas ritual. Everyone brings a small, wrapped gift (or gifts) to put into the basket and during the ritual it is passed round for everyone to draw something out (it's a bit like a Pagan 'Secret Santa'!). If you don't have a group to celebrate with you could still have fun giving out little token gifts to your friends and family. If you're a gardener and have excess fruit and veggies, or flowers and herbs, you could take some round to your neighbours. Or a lovely idea would be to donate food to your local Food Bank, or a few hours of your time volunteering at a homeless shelter. Or you could give unwanted items to your favourite Charity Shop, or tins of dog/cat food and old blankets to an animal shelter. In these times of (relative) plenty and security, let's share our abundance with those who need it.

Blessings of the harvest to you!



Tuesday, 10 July 2018

Blessed by Bees



The walls of the house here at Halfway Up A Hill are about 18" thick, the construction of local stone and slate. The house was built in the 1930's but its traditional style makes it look older.

In one corner of the kitchen is a cupboard, recessed into the wall adjacent to the chimney breast. Here the walls are even thicker because of the chimney. I assume the cupboard was used as a primitive fridge, as there's a vent to the outside that allows the circulation of fresh air. In winter it's quite effective, and we have used it to store excess fruit and vegetables when our own fridge has been struggling to cope (although mostly it has cookware and crockery in it).

A couple of weeks ago I returned home from work to find the kitchen full of honeybees. They were entering through the vent in the cupboard - a swarm had found the vent and decided it looked like the perfect place to set up their new colony. By opening the windows and blocking the vent where it opened into the cupboard I managed to vacate the kitchen of bees. I imagined that with the vent blocked inside, there wouldn't be enough room for the new hive and the colony would vacate. But there must be more space in the walls than I imagined as they have stuck around, and can be seen industriously zooming in and out of the vent in the outer wall by the patio at the side of the house. It's just above head height, so the bees and I don't bother each other in our comings and goings. I decided I rather liked having them there, it feels like a blessing on the house. 

This morning I discovered something even more wondrous: when I open the cupboard I can faintly hear the humming of the hive, hundreds of bees gently buzzing as they go about their work building and tending their home. It sounds like some kind of distant choir. It's the kind of soothing sound that could lull you to sleep, like distant gulls and gentle waves on the shore or the soft patter of rain on leaves. 

I imagine the orderly world taking shape within the walls of the house, and the sweetness being created there. My house is truly blessed by bees.

Thursday, 24 May 2018

Soul Food



“In the Craft, we do not believe in the Goddess ~ we connect with her; through the moon, the stars, the ocean, the earth, through trees, animals, through other human beings, through ourselves. She is here. She is within us all” 
― Starhawk

I make a pilgrimage every year to the bluebell woods. Not far from Halfway Up A Hill is a patch of beautiful woodland. It's privately owned, but the owners are generous enough to share their little patch of heaven, and every year when the bluebells bloom they open up the woodland to the public. To me it is a magical, sacred place. I look forward to my visit every year, it has become part of the way I celebrate the Wheel of the Year.

Bluebells are quite possibly my favourite flower: I love their colour, their scent; I love the time of year they appear; I love their woodland habitat. My annual visit to see them feeds my soul. I visit them with friends, with family, alone. I have visited on cool, damp chilly days and on brilliantly bright warm sunny days. But it is unthinkable to not visit at all. No matter what else is happening in my life, I make time to visit the bluebells.

The woods are approached through a bright sunny meadow. The owners have cut a path through the meadow, fringed with all kinds of wildflowers. I follow its gentle slope down towards the woodland's dark edge, and as I get closer the scent of bluebells starts to waft around me. I slow my pace, aware that I am approaching a holy place. At a gap in the hedge at one corner of the meadow I step through into an enchanted world. A sea of blue flows all around me, and early summer light filters down through tender new leaves of oak and beech, hazel, birch and hawthorn. Paths meander through the trees, and I step carefully, trying not to crush any flowers underfoot. It seems sacrilegious to damage such beauty in any way. As I walk slowly, mindfully placing each step, I breathe deeply, trying to inhale the essence of the place. At points along the path I stop and sit for a little while, listening to the sound of the woodland all around me. Insects buzz, the breeze ripples through the treetops, birds sing - wren, robin, chaffinch, chiffchaff, blackbird - and the sound of cattle, sheep and human activity drifts over from the nearest farm. I notice how, when I sit still and silent, the birdsong intensifies nearby as though having decided I pose no threat, normal service has been resumed. At one particular sitting place I am thrilled to hear the whirring of small wings directly behind me. I hold myself as still as possible, desperate to turn and see which tiny bird has dared to land behind me but knowing that as soon as I move it will fly away. 

I try to still my mind too, letting thoughts drift away like the clouds above the treetops, trying to open and receive whatever the bluebell wood has to offer me. I feel it as a gentle healing energy, which soothes and nourishes my soul. I want to stay and bathe in it forever, and yet I know that I will have to return home before long - visiting time ends at dusk - and that the bluebells will not be here much longer. There is perhaps another week before they fade, begin to set seed and their blue-purple glory is over again for another year. So I drink it in while I can, feed my soul on this peace and beauty while I can. It is enough - until next year. 






Sunday, 15 April 2018

In The Woods




Don't try to make the magic happen.
Open to it, and then
Wait.
Open
Breathe
Remember.
Soften your gaze.
Let your shoulders drop.
Inhale, then exhale.
Wait
Wait
Wait.
Feel the touch of grace in the breeze on your skin.
When it falls upon you gently, softly,
Let its beauty fill your heart.
Its power is immense, infinite,
It is always here for you to find.
Just open to it and wait.
It will come to you.
Open.
Breathe.
Remember.

Sunday, 25 February 2018

ThriftWitch: Home From Home Charm



As a Cancerian, the concept of 'home' is very important to me. I am a home-loving person, and as I have mentioned before, my natural inclination is to put down roots. However, my idea of 'home' isn't confined to mere bricks and mortar, or that place I lay my head at night. Nor is it merely somewhere 'everybody knows your name' – although it can be all or none of these. I think for me, home is very definitely where the heart is.

I have been lucky enough to live in several different parts of the world, all of which remain dear to me in different ways. There are other places I love that have never physically been home to me. But I feel 'at home' whenever I am there.

This precious feeling of being in a place where you feel you truly belong is at the heart of feeling grounded and centred. The ability to ground and centre yourself is of course a very important basic magical skill, the starting point for everything else. To do effective magic, to enact ritual or ceremony, to move energy, you need to feel sure of yourself, certain of where you are and where you intend to go. This is why you need to know how to ground and centre yourself. The feeling of being grounded and centred is the same feeling you get when you are in your true home - as I said earlier, not necessarily that place of bricks and mortar, but that place where you feel relaxed, centred in yourself and where you can fully and truly be your authentic self. 

The Home From Home Charm is a way of condensing down the essence of the place(s) that you call home and being able to carry that essence with you wherever you go. Your charm can be used as a short-cut way of grounding and centring yourself, or it can be a magical item you carry with you when you are away from home yet want to keep its essence with you. You could also make Home From Home Charms as gifts for loved ones – while they are away in hospital, travelling, or studying. It would be a lovely gift to go in the backpack of a child as a comforter on their first day of school.

As with all ThriftWitch projects it requires little expenditure - just a bit of forethought and planning! You need a container for the charm - a little cork-stoppered glass jar or bottle is cute and looks good on a portable altar. If there's a chance it might get a bit of a batterin g while you're travelling it might be better to use a small plastic bottle or container (with lid), or a fabric, felt or leather/suede pouch. If you're really travelling light you could use a Ziploc bag.

What you put into your charm is entirely up to you, as what means 'home' will be different for everyone. But here are some suggestions to get you started:

  • A tiny pinch of soil from your garden or special place.
  • A tiny scrap of fabric snipped from the furnishings of a favourite room (curtains, duvet, quilt, cushion). You only need a tiny bit and should be able to find a suitable seam or hem to take a teeny bit from without ruining the item in question!
  • Some dried flowers or herbs from your garden (a pinch only)
  • Is there a particular smell that means home to you? You could add a spritz of your loved one's cologne or perfume on a scrap of fabric to your container; a chip of scented candle wax; a small piece of joss stick or incense; a chip of cinnamon or vanilla pod; a drip of essential oil or even a spritz of furniture polish on a piece of cotton wool...
  • A lock of hair or snippet of fur from your loved one(s) and/or pet(s)
  • A piece of twig or bark from a beloved tree
  • A small shell or pebble from 'your' beach
  • Small photos of a place or loved ones
  • Any symbols that mean 'home' to you - either small symbolic objects or sigils or runes inscribed on paper
  • A button from a loved one's shirt


These are just ideas to get you started. Only you can know what will be meaningful to you, and bring a smile to your face when you look at your charm. As this is intended to be a small, portable magical item suitable for travelling with, be careful not to get too carried away and add large items/too much. Travelling light is always the best idea! In all cases, if you're travelling internationally, tailor the contents of your charm carefully to avoid attracting the wrath of customs officials - many countries will not allow soil, vegetable or animal matter to be imported.

The only thing that I suggest you definitely include in your charm is a small snail shell, which is a perfect symbol for the ability to carry your home with you wherever you go! You can either put this in your container with all the other items, or glue it to the lid or perhaps thread it on a piece of yarn or ribbon and tie it round the neck of the container.

Once assembled, either start using your charm straight away or consecrate it first in your preferred manner.  

With a little tweaking and some appropriate magic, the Home From Home Charm could easily be adapted into a protective amulet for those beings and places you love. 

Sunday, 12 November 2017

Signposts on the Way



I was talking with a friend who has been going through a rather turbulent time recently. She asked me if I'd used certain spiritual practices to help me through my own troubles in recent years. I replied that I had... but in all honesty I'm not sure that they really made a substantial contribution. So I have found myself since that conversation pondering, what did help? What got me through the darkest days after my life disintegrated around me? What kept me going?

Firstly I should say that I don't believe there's any one magical 'right' way through the swamps of grief, depression, despair. We all have to find our own way and that's one reason it's so hard. But I do think that those of us who've managed to wade through, swim through or sometimes merely keep a nostril above the murk of those swamps can leave some helpful signposts for our fellow travellers. These then are my signposts, the things that helped me.

1. Understanding the mechanism of grief.

I had heard of Elisabeth Kubler Ross's theory of the Five Stages of Grief but I really only took the idea on board when I was struggling through them myself. Basically the idea is that when confronted with sudden, traumatic change - bereavement, diagnosis of serious/terminal illness, profound loss - most of us go through five stages: denial, bargaining, anger, grief, acceptance. Briefly, the denial part is when we can't quite accept that this is happening to us and try to distance ourselves by pretending it's not happening; bargaining comes when we accept that it's happening but try to bargain our way out of it ("if I lose weight he'll love me again!", "If I start eating healthily the cancer will go away!", "If I pray hard enough she won't die!"); anger is when we rail and lash out at the unfairness of it all; grief comes when we finally let ourselves feel the loss; acceptance is when we reach the other side, absorbing and integrating our experience. We don't necessarily work through these in a neat linear fashion, often we go back and forth through them before we finally reach true acceptance.

Personally, I found it tremendously helpful to know these stages so that when it seemed my emotions were in chaos I could identify them as part of the process and know why I was feeling and reacting as I did. It was also helpful to know that by working through them I was making progress on my journey towards healing. In many ways the theory of the Five Stages of Grief is a vast oversimplification, but to me it was a vital map, a way of keeping my bearings when I really didn't know which way was up. And most importantly it held out the possibility that one day I would be able to drag myself out onto the longed-for distant shore of Acceptance and begin to move on with the rest of my life.

2. Remembering that you are not the first to go through this.

Strangely, I found some really sad break-up songs were helpful. Now I don't recommend sitting listening for hours to miserable music. I can't see that helping anyone. But there were a couple of tracks I loved because they articulated so well what I was going through. It helped me to know I wasn't the only one who'd ever felt like this. But most importantly, they were by artistes whose catalogue I was very familiar with, and I knew that the story didn't end there. These people had been where I was, they had felt as I felt, but they had moved on. They had lived through it and gone on to write other, happier songs in happier times. It held out the possibility to me that I could both feel this bad yet know that I wouldn't be stuck there forever. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, even if I couldn't see it yet, the songs let me know it was there and let me believe that one day I too would find it. 

Of course it doesn't have to be a song that holds out that promise. It could be a book, a poem, a work of art, a film, a friend's story. But whatever it is, it is a reminder that you are not alone, others have trodden this path before you. And if they got through it, you can too.

3. Letting it out.

You can only come to terms with what is happening to you if you let it out, expose the wound to light and air. If you hold it tightly to you and keep it in, it will fester and you will never heal.

If you can, talk. To friends, to family, to the person at the bus stop. Verbalising something gets it out of you, takes away some of the pain, reduces its power to hurt you. Sharing a burden eases its weight.

But of course, not everyone is able to do that. Sometimes there isn't anyone to talk to, sometimes we feel we have to shield those around us from our pain and anger, sometimes it's too difficult to express. But there are other ways to let it out. For me, I talked, but writing was a life-saver. Not just here on the blog. Some of what I had to express was too raw, too painful, too personal. So I also journalled obsessively. And each word on a page leached out a little more of the poison and pain.

Words are not the only means of expressing yourself. After the death of my son, I couldn't find the words to express how I felt. So I drew, and painted and scribbled on paper. And it was like a magic balm that eventually dissipated my pain until I found I could talk about it after all.

So let it out, however you can. In speech, or writing, or painting, or building, or punching a cushion, or dancing, or running, or playing music, or screaming or whatever it takes.

Let. It. Out.

4. Pursue happiness.

Who doesn't want to be happy? Yet too often we are passive in our pursuit of happiness. We wait for it to come to us, and we take it for granted when it is in our possession. 

Don't be passive! Seek out happiness. Make a list of things that give you joy and make it your mission to incorporate them into your life. It goes without saying that most of these things should be non-material or the pursuit of joy can easily sour into consumerism, hoarding and massive credit card bills. None of which are going to make you happy, quite the opposite in fact. But hang out with people you love, cook your favourite meal, sniff the roses, dance to your favourite music while doing the housework, watch the beautiful sunset, watch the DVD that always makes you laugh, cut fresh flowers for your home, snuggle up with your pets, nurture your garden, wear your favourite dress, play with your kids, walk in the bluebell woods, toast marshmallows round the bonfire with friends. And don't be too puritannical to give yourself a few materialistic treats too. If that designer perfume really does make you feel happy every time you smell it, invest in a bottle and spritz away.

I recommend two things - make a list of things that never fail to make you smile. My own list includes seeing the first swallow of summer, being with my favourite people and the exuberance of Tambourine Guy in this video. Just reading the list can lift your spirits, and you can also use it to remind yourself to do nice things! I've also made a playlist of all my favourite joyful songs that I can listen to whenever I need a boost - or just because.

And start a Jar of Blessings (or record them in a journal, or stick them on a noticeboard, or take digital photos of them...). Counting your blessings really does work.

5. And when you are finally out of the swamp...

Leave signposts for others.
Share your insights.
Listen to someone who needs a friendly ear.
Keep seeking out happiness - and spread it where you can.

If you have any helpful signposts of your own, please leave them in the comments section! Thank you.


Thursday, 19 October 2017

Checking In

It has been a good long time since I last posted - nearly a year. So I just wanted to check in and say, I'm still here, still breathing, and I'm still *intending* to write a blog! 

Life has been so busy of late that on the rare occasions that I get time to write I am almost always too tired to dredge up any inspiration or too brain dead to articulate my thoughts clearly. So as a quick'n'easy cheat post - a bit of a TV dinner of a post in fact - here are a few photos of life in Moonrootland over the last 12 months. I hope to be back with something a bit more substantial and nourishing in the not too distant future!