Re-membering Beltane

 

My ancient ancestors, the Celts, separated the year into two halves.  The dark half began at Samhain, today’s November 1^st.  The light followed the dark in the Celtic world and the light half of the year began at Beltane, today’s May 1^st.  At Beltane, a Maypole made of Oak and decorated with white Hawthorn flowers would be danced around as part of the celebration of fertility that spring brings.  My ancestors were connected to the land and the movement of the sun and moon.  Everything had spirit or anam that supported them as anam cara.

Gradually that way of life was lost to the introduction and later domination of Christianity that demanded allegiance to a sky God only.  The old ways were then linked by the Church to the devil and to witches in order to convince people to let them go. During the Industrial Revolution, most people moved away from the land and into the cities to find work. My ancestors were among those who were drawn to the cotton mills of Lancashire from Ireland, Yorkshire and the south of England.

Society in Britain was run by men who were supposed to be rational.  Emotions were relegated to women who were seen as lesser beings.  Through the development of technology for industry and for weapons, this small island then set out to conquer the world and form the British Empire.  Technology allowed those with it, to subdue and dominate those without it. It was a great benefit to the men who forged this plan, to not pay attention to their emotions.  It is much easier to do harm to other life if you just stay in your head.  Things such as imagination were soon relegated to the least of beings, children.  Imagination became synonymous with things that were fanciful and not true such as the anam of everything.

This is one explanation for how we got to where we are today.  Being cut off from the Earth, from our emotions and from the power of imagination we now find ourselves on the brink of a myriad of bad things.  Luckily there are a lot of us and many healing paths forward once we let go of the belief in separation and embrace the reality of connection.

Sharp-lobed Hepatica flowers with last year's weathered leaves.

Here in Ontario a few days before Beltane, the Hawthorns are still bare.  There are no flowers to adorn a Maypole.  But, the days are getting longer and the sun warmer.  In the forest that I walk in, the first flowers to emerge from the brown forest floor are the Sharp-lobed Hepatica.  The bright white flowers rise up first in the midst of their weathered leaves from last year.  Later, the new bright green leaves will emerge.  Last year, there were only a few Hepatica clumps but due to logging and caterpillars eating the remaining canopy, more light than usual flooded the forest last summer and now Hepatica is everywhere.  They line the trail like landing lights on a runway, showing me the way.  Delicate and hardy, they are my Hawthorn flowers ushering me into the light time of year.

Wild Leek leaves with a few Hepatica flowers

Mixed in with them are the rich green Wild Leek leaves that grow taller each day.  I pick a few to take home and cook as my celebration feast to welcome spring and to embody the life that it brings.  The Leeks are managing to grow despite the branches that the loggers left behind. Their intense green is in sharp contrast to the dead grey branches and stumps that still lay like bleached bones throughout the woodland.

Basal leaves of Mullein

Most surprisingly though are the Mullein plants that are growing in the forest.  Usually, Mullein is an edge dweller which you find at the side of the road or trails, often growing in poor soil or gravel.  Somehow, it has found its way into the forest and the added sunshine from last year has allowed it to prosper.  The soft woolly leaves fan out in a basal fashion that reminds me of a lotus.  Mullein is the first plant that I remember communicating with as a child.  I was sure that it must be a healing plant because it was so soft and fuzzy.  It felt kind and nurturing to me.  I asked my mother what it was used for but she didn’t know and called it a weed.  I later learned that it did in fact have medicinal uses.  More recently, I was taught by an Elder on a nearby First Nation that they used Mullein for many purposes.  Now, in my more senior years, I see Mullein as my childhood mentor and evidence of my ability to listen to plants.

These three gentle spring plants tug at my ancestral memory.  They beckon to me to remember my connection to Earth and to her abundance.  They are my way-showers and companions.  They wake up my imagination and speak to me in that rich, liminal, imaginal place.  As I accept their invitation to connect, a new way of being can be imagined and a new way forward visualized.  My heart and my body have become my compass on this path as I seek to re-member what is in my genes, what is in my bones, what my ancestors know.