Samhain

In the lands where the ancient Celts thrived, October was the time of settling cold, final preparations for long winter, and the death of the old year. In the lands where some of their modern descendants eventually came, the leaves are turning gold, red, brown; the breezes are growing stronger and more chill; the sudden storms of summer are giving way to steady rainfall and in extremes, frost appears at the window. It is easy to see how traditions of the dying year can thrive in this environment.

In the lands where my ancestors came, the leaves remain on the trees; the long drought of summer is largely broken by storms, though the heat remains; there is no chance of frost until January. Maybe. My choice to honor this time of year as one of the memory of death and the meditation on the cycle of endings and beginnings may take a bit more effort to embrace, because the natural world around me seems to be alive, even thriving, after the extreme thirsty summer and the blessed new rains.

And yet, I choose to align myself with the patterns of the Celts because while externally my world isn’t preparing for a long sleep or death, internally, my own world is descending into the long dark-half of the year. It is the end of summer, samos.

Scél lemm duíb: (I have news for you:)
dordaid dam, (the stag bells,)
snigid gaim, (winter snows,)
ró-fáith sam. (summer is ended.)

Other pagan voices on Samhain:

Alexei Kondratiev

Beyond The Fields We Know

Gus diZerega

Ali at Meadowsweet Myrrh

 

Midsummer Ritual

This Midsummer, I was moved to do a ritual, very small, which is something I am not usually inclined to do.

What this ritual basically came down to is the mystery of fire and water (a primary mystery of Brighid, and one with which I’ve always had particular resonance), or “sunlight on water”, as it applies to the various parts of my life. Without too much detail, I’m focusing on being a channel–the flow of emotional and physical energy (water) and spark of creative energy (fire) merging to allow me to continue working in the forge, writing on the page, without (heh) burning myself out or draining myself. (Excuse the double puns).

The end metaphorical vision is basically for me to be as a river, flowing, with sunlight sparkling all over me, and it was this vision I focused on.

I do not think the “fire on water” motif is amiss at Midsummer, being both the time of the greatest sunlight and the greatest heat, the time when all of nature is abundant, and we are all working hard to produce work (especially me, as a college student, when I finally have time to focus on non-school work), and the time when we all seek water, whether to cool ourselves (in the pool!) or, as we are down here in south Texas in a heavy drought, to survive. The image of sunlight on a river is one that connects me not only to my physical surroundings and the emotional connotations of this holiday, but it connects me most importantly to Brighid, who is at the center of everything I do.

I’ve learned how to crochet in the past week, and decided to incorporate it into my ritual, in which I made a chain of all the things I wanted to accomplish, to have support for, to have energy for, etc. I unraveled it and placed it outside to blow away, and then I came back and wrote this poem:

 

Water

They say that all life came out of the ocean; all life still needs water. Water is that which lies inside us, which makes up our deep being, and we need it to sustain ourselves. Water is ever-shifting; at one moment, still and deep, another shallow and fast. In yet another form, Water appears icy sharp, and in another, delicate and fragile, but glittering. Rain from the sky is what supports the eco-systems on earth, and all rivers, streams, tides, glaciers erode away the very earth. Water moves in us, as emotions, as physical processes, as thoughts and words.

Water, in classical antiquity, is often associated with the emotions and the deep source of inspiration that comes not from the gods, like Fire, but from within. Like Fire, Water is also to our essential spiritual being, because Water is that wisdom and life that resides within us and supports us. It mothers us, while Fire moves us. Water is another important element of ritual, cosmology and symbolism in Filidecht, and, along with Fire, is at the center of much of Celtic mythology.

 

Fire

In classical antiquity, the world was thought to be made up of four principle elements: Water, Earth, Fire, and Air. This mindset lasted for much longer than you might think in science, and in religion, it has been transformed into a magical system. In ceremonial magic, such as that utilized by practitioners of Wicca, these four elements are called upon or invoked to construct and consecrate a sacred space as forces of nature, connected and manifested in both nature and in our psychology, and often are used with other magical energies in spellwork.These four elements have many symbols and correspondences attached to them in the occult world, and as such are powerful tools for creating spells, rituals and personal meditations.

The Celts did not view the world as being constructed of these same “elements”, and in modern practice, those in a traditional Celtic mindset do not see the need for invoking these elements to create a sacred space, as sacred space already exists all around them. The Three Realms, already discussed in this essay, are acknowledged, but not as “elements”, in the sense of the classical principles or forces. Which isn’t to say that forces or energies have no place in magical workings or ritual. In fact, Celtic tradition has a strong background and evidence for several of these forces, and I have utilized forces of my own discovery that I feel is true to the Celtic mindset, if completely UPG.

However, two of these “elements” do have a place, cosmically, in the Celtic worldview, and in a worldview of story. They are Fire, and Water, the mysteries of which are potent energies and forces in their own right, and to be respected as such.