Sunday 26 December 2021

Solstice Fire


 

Sol, the sun has

Stit, stopped.

So says Middle English

From Old French and

Latin – sostitium.

 

If the sun has stopped

Then we must call it back,

Coax it to move again.

Our ancestors knew this.

They lit fires, prayed, sang

Danced, did ceremony.

 

But, we modern people

Know in our heads

That the growing darkness

Is simply caused by our

Earth’s axis tipping away

From its source of life.

It is we who have moved away

Not the sun.

Yes, we know it in our heads,

With theories and scientific evidence.

 

And yet, our bodies

Feel the distance.

We cannot feel ourselves

Spinning, orbiting, or tipping.

We see the sun moving 

lower in the horizon

And our emotions struggle

To lighten in the darkness.

 

But then fire,

Yes fire, ancient and new

Reminds us of the sun.

We find comfort in the

Solar energy stored by

Photosynthesizing leaves

in wooden branches and trunks

As it Is released by fire

as heat and light.

We lean in, we circle it

As Earth circles Sol

With it’s southern parts leaning in

And its northern parts leaning out

At this the Winter Solstice in the North.

 

What could be better than

This heat and soft light?

Sharing it with others

Is even better and made

Particularly poignant during a pandemic

As this ancient knowing

Rises within us.

 

Warm drinks and tasty treats

Fill our stomachs and warm us

From the inside as calories

Stored in food are ignited

Within our cells.

Our bodies are coaxed away from 

The fear or separation, of abandonment.

 

Singing, storytelling, dreaming,

We circle the fire, leaning in

As Earth circles Sol and leans

Both in and out.

Time circles and for a moment

Stands still – we call it timeless

This mythos time that spans

Centuries and generations.

 

Each storyteller’s face shines

Yellow and orange, reflecting the firelight,

While the fire from within each heart

Becomes visible to the imaginal eye

 in that timeless moment.

We lean towards the hearths

of one another’s heart fires

And find our own hearts warmed

There in that imaginal space.

And we know in our cells and hearts

That we are fire to each other.

Our spirits always knew, never forgot

And our minds struggle to catch up

With the ancient knowing that

This is our inheritance, our gift

And our responsibility

Monday 20 December 2021

Ogham for Winter Solstice

 The ancient Celts used the first alphabet in Europe which is called the Ogham script.  Each letter is associated with a tree or an important plant.  The alphabet was used as a mnemonic device to encode knowledge, the Celtic song of the universe, Ceolta na Cruinne (Diana Beresford-Kroeger).  Some of these trees or plants were important at the time of the Winter Solstice.  What is really interesting to me is that many of these trees or plants are still important to us today and are reflected in Christmas carols and traditions.  All this information is from Jacqueline Memory Peterson’s book Tree Wisdom.

Rowan:  At Winter Solstice, the Rowan has no leaves and when it is covered by frost, it looks like it is covered in stars.  Yule legends tell of a special star atop the mythical Rowan tree which heralded a return of the light.  Paterson writes that this star was incorporated into the Christmas story and that the Rowan was a forerunner of Christmas trees with a star on top which were celebrated inside instead of outside.

Yew:  At the midwinter or Winter Solstice, Yew sprigs were used for purification.  People threw away their physically outworn things and burned them on the great Yule fires.  The Yew was powerful in midwinter as it represented the passage of the sun through the darkest time of year.  All evergreens were revered as trees of light since their green foliage in the dead of winter emphasized that life would continue.  All evergreens were traditionally dressed with shiny, sparkling objects at Yuletide to attract the light of the sun back .  This practice has been adopted for the decoration of Christmas trees now.

Holly:  Holly was brought inside during the winter because its shiny leaves reflected the light and the bright red berries could lift the spirits.  Its evergreen quality symbolizes the tenacity of life.  For the Celts, the Holly King ruled from Midsummer to Midwinter (when the sun is waning) and then a battle with the Oak King occurs which the Oak wins and then the Oak rules from Midwinter to Midsummer (when the sun is waxing).  The Christmas carol, “The Holly and the Ivy” is really about the male and female principles in life.  At Yule, it was the custom to dress a boy in the foliage of holly and a girl in Ivy.  Then they paraded around the town to lead the old solar year into the new one.  In some traditions the boy and girl played competitive games including singing songs.  The Holly represented the sun and the Ivy the moon.  “Of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown,” goes the carol.

Holly in a vase


Scots Pine: The Druids burned great fires of pine at the Winter Solstice to draw back the sun and the practice led to the burning of the Yule log.  Living pines were decorated with lights and shiny objects at Yule.  The Scots Pine is used as a Christmas tree because of its green needles and red bark.  And the Yule log is now a tasty dessert served at Christmas.

Apple:  Apple trees were Wassailed at the Winter Solstice or on the Twelfth Night.  This is a seasonal ceremony in which blessings and prayers are said to the trees to ensure good crops.  A toast is drunk to the spirit which inhabits the trees.  Songs are sung, poems recited and apple cider is poured onto the roots of the tree.  “Here we go a-wassailing…” is a song we sing at Christmas time.

Ash:  The wassailing bowl used by druids was carved from Ash.  Ash was also used as the Yule log.

Oak: Mistletoe has always been associated with the Sun and there was a tradition of gathering it at both solstices.  At the summer solstice, the wood was gathered and at the Winter Solstice, the berries and leaves.  Mistletoe that grew on Oak which was sacred to the Druids was thought to be the most powerful.  At Winter Solstice, the Mistletoe was lopped from the Oak and caught in a cloth so that it never touches the earth.  Mistletoe represents male fertility of the sun god that combined with the earth goddess renews her fertility.  I already mentioned the battle between the Oak and Holly at Winter Solstice.  In Druidic tradition, the robin and wren are associated with the Oak and Holly respectively and they also compete according to the season.

I find it very interesting that after a few thousand years of Christianity, these ancient connections with trees and plants endure.

Jacqueline Memory Peterson (1996) Tree Wisdom: The definitive guidebook to the myth, folklore and healing power of Trees. Thorsons: London.

 

 

Saturday 11 December 2021

Rowan: Ogham Tree for December

 

Rowan   Luis  L    December

The ancient Celts used the first alphabet in Europe which is called the Ogham script.  Each letter is associated with a tree or an important plant.  The alphabet was used as a mnemonic device to encode knowledge, the Celtic song of the universe, Ceolta na Cruinne (Diana Beresford-Kroeger).  The thirteen months of the year (pre-Gregorian calendar) were each represented by a particular tree.  The new year began on Nov. 1st with Birch, followed by Rowan in December.  Rowan represented the letter “L” or Luis.

Rowan is a species of the Rose family along with Apple, Hawthorn and Wild Cherry.  Their compound leaves look like those of the Ash, thus the name “Mountain Ash”.  Each Rowan flower is like a small apple blossom.  Birds eat the berries. There are roughly 100 species of Rowan distributed in temperate Eurasia and North America.  Sorbus decora is a species native to Canada. Rowan grows on the rocky hillsides of Scotland and Wales. It will grow at the edge of a forest as it loves light and space.

The berries are high in Vitamin C and best used with the pulp and seeds strained out. Fresh juice was used as a gargle and the jelly and syrup were prescribed for gout. Modern herbalists make a tea from the dried and ground bark and the dried flowers to help with digestive and stomach disorders.  In Scotland, a strong spirit is made from the berries. The fruit must be cooked before it is edible. The Celts used it as a tonic. In North America, Indigenous people use the Rowan (different species than in the UK) to treat colds, cough, headaches, lumbar back pain, diabetes and cancer. Rowan is an anti-inflammatory.  Rowan has been used as an astringent and antibiotic. A decoction of Rowan bark was used to treat diarrhea. The seeds in the berries are poisonous to children but a strong astringent infusion was used externally to treat hemorrhoids and as a cure for scurvy.

Rowan bark was used as a black dye and a tanning agent. Rowan wood was traditionally used to make spindles and spinning wheels. The Celts used Rowan trees in hedgerows as a predictor of crops.  The date of the flowers blooming was used to predict the grain harvest.  Equal-armed crosses of Rowan twigs bound by red thread were made as talismans. 

The Celts believed that the faeries were enamoured with the beauty of the Rowan’s white flowers followed by the bright red berries in the fall. 

“As a vibrational essence, Rowan teaches the skill of discernment and gives psychic protection, as well as aiding insight.”  It also fosters imagination to overcome difficulties.   “:…Rowan counsels you to seek knowledge and protection you need to move forward successfully and in balance.” (Forest, 60)

According to Glennie Kindred, Rowan offers protection from harmful influences, intuition and insights, increased psychic powers, visions, meditation, vitality, spiritual strength and tenacity, the refusal to give up. These gifts are to help the potential set in motion by the Birch.  It offers the invitation to meditate, to quiet the mind and allow clarity and inspiration to enter. Trusting your intuition and insights strengthens your own personal power.

According to Liz and Colin Murray, Rowan was used to protect against enchantment.  Rune staves were cut from Rowan trees.  A Rowan branch was used in metal divining.  In the north of Britain, sprays of Rowan were fixed to cattle sheds and placed over the main door of the house as well as being worn by people.  In Wales, Rowan trees were planted in churchyards to watch over the spirits of the dead.

The Rowan is considered the female version of the Ash in Scandinavian myths in which the first woman was born from a Rowan and the first man from an Ash.  In Icelandic myth, the Rowan was very important in the Winter Solstice.  Yule legends tell of a special star atop the mythical rowan tree which heralded a return of the light.  There are many legends about the gifts of the berries. Rowans were associated with dragons and both were used for protection of the earth and the flow of earth energy.

“The calm atmosphere and beauty of rowan, the gracefulness of its spirit and the energy of life it represents, allow us to find healing, strength and purpose.” (Peterson, 231)  And finally, Elen Sentier writes, “Rowan is a portal, threshold tree offering you the chance of going somewhere… and of leaving somewhere.” (Sentier, 17)

This is a compilation of information taken from the following sources:

Diana Beresford-Kroeger (2019) To Speak for the Trees. Random House: Canada.

Danu Forest (2014) Celtic Tree Magic: Ogham Lore and Druid Mysteries. Llewellyn Worldwide: Woodbury, Minnesota.

Glennie Kindred, (1997) The Tree Ogham. Glennie Kindred: UK.

Liz and Colin Murray (1988) The Celtic Tree Oracle. Connections Book Publishing: London, UK.

Jacqueline Memory Peterson (1996) Tree Wisdom: The definitive guidebook to the myth, folklore and healing power of Trees. Thorsons: London.

Elen Sentier (2014) Trees of the Goddess. Moon Books: Winchester, UK.

 

 

Saturday 4 December 2021

Pluriversal Politics: The Real and the Possible

 


Every now and again, you come across something which seems to shine a bright spotlight on something that was previously hidden in the shadows.  “But, of course,” you say to yourself.  “Now I see.”  I had this experience recently as I read something that my daughter who is working on her MEd sent to me.  It was a chapter from the book Pluriversal Politics: The Real and the Possible by Arturo Escobar who is Professor Emeritus of Anthropology at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, and the author of several books.

Arturo Escobar


Escobar deals with the “politics of the possible” and writes about how our commonly held ideas of what is real and attainable get in the way of the emergence of alternative visions of the future.  He looks at the experience and practice of Indigenous and Afro-descendant people who are protecting their land from extractive industries in Latin America and shows how they are bringing about the pluriverse, “a world of many worlds”.  Escobar feels this is key in creating a myriad of different possible future stories that could bring solutions to planetary crises.

The book is written is scholarly language that can feel a little daunting but underneath it is a striking clarity.  Escobar feels that the planetary crisis that we face “is the crisis of a particular world or set of world-making practices, the world that we usually refer to as the dominant form of Euro-modernity.”  Therefore, he reasons, “If the crisis is then caused by this heteropatriarchal capitalist modern world, it follows that facing the crisis implies transitions toward its opposite, that is, toward a multiplicity of worlds we will call the pluriverse.”  If the diversity of these worlds is infinite, then the narrow Eurocentric vision of the world can hardly have exhausted all the possibilities, he argues.  Here, is a good example of how another point of view that is Latin American based sees the dominant Eurocentric worldview; as simply one among many.  I found that very refreshing.

If the Eurocentric worldview is seen as the only one, then what does not yet exist is impossible, concludes Escobar as he writes, “Here again we find an insightful formulation of the es [Epistemology of the South] framework: what does not exist is actively produced as nonexistent or as a noncredible alternative to what exists.”  This sentence elicits an image of Europeans with blinkers on in my imagination.  I hear this kind of thinking all of the time.  For example, when people discuss electricity derived from renewable sources, they often bring up the problem of storing the energy created.  Thus, they conclude, renewable electricity production is a bad idea.  When I hear this, I think, well, clearly, we need to develop better ways of storing energy so that we can use renewably produced electricity.  But most people discard the idea as implausible since it does not yet exist.

Another key area that Escobar writes about is the network of interrelations that makes up the world.  He writes, “To put it abstractly, a relational ontology of this sort can be defined as one in which nothing pre-exists the relations that constitute it. Said otherwise, things and beings are their relations; they do not exist prior to them.”  This is clearly different than the idea that things are disconnected and autonomous and that they then choose to relate to one another.  The relational ontology (ontology deals with the nature of being) that Escobar writes about is a bit of a mind puzzle for anyone brought up with Newtonian and Cartesian science.  But it is well worth puzzling over.  The first thing that springs to my mind is procreation in which a new life emerges from the relationship of its parents.  But, relational ontology goes deeper than that.  The African word Ubuntu is sometimes translated as “I am because we are” or “I am because you are.”  This example of relational ontology is worth thinking about. 

Escobar quotes the anthropologist Tim Ingold who says “these worlds without objects ‘are always in movement, made up of materials in motion, flux, and becoming; in these worlds, living beings of all kinds constitute each other’s conditions for existence; they ‘interweave to form an immense and continually evolving tapestry.’”  In this way, everything contributes to the inter-relational weave thereby creating the conditions necessary for existence.

It is easy in a comfortable home with lots of food to eat and the money to pay for it, to forget that we are a part of this tapestry.  But, stop for a moment and think about where today’s ingredients for the meals you ate came from.  Think about the soil they grew in, the rain that watered them, the people who tended them or fed them, who prepared them for sale, who drove them to the all the places they needed to go before they got to the store where you bought them.  Think about the electricity that powers all of your conveniences and the fuel that heats your home, the people that built your home and the places where all the materials came from.  Very quickly, you will understand that you exist because of all these others.

Another key to the future is a new story says Escobar as he writes: “Given that we cannot be intimate with the Earth within a mechanistic paradigm, we are in dire need of a new story that might enable us to reunite the sacred and the universe, the human and the nonhuman. The wisdom traditions, including those of indigenous peoples, offer a partial guide toward this goal of re-embedding ourselves within the Earth. Within these traditions, humans are embedded within the Earth, are part of its consciousness, not an individual consciousness existing in an inert world,” writes Escobar.  He goes on to quote a Nasa Indigenous leader from southwestern Columbia: “Somos la continuidad de la tierra, miremos desde el corazón de la tierra” (We are the extension of the Earth, let us think from the earth’s heart).

What stories could emerge from the earth’s heart, I wonder.  Instead of taking an “objective” viewpoint and talking about relationships, how can we think from the relationship?  How can we understand ourselves as embedded within the earth?  These may seem to be very heady questions but without this change in thinking, we in “the west” are likely to keep on going around in circles of despair and destruction.

I invite you to think about this and to listen for stories the come from the earth’s heart.  I imagine that they can only be heard from within the relationship.

Arturo Escobar (2020) Pluriversal Politics: The Real an the Possible. Duke University Press: Durham, North Carolina.