Honoring Lughnasadh--and a Goodbye

Ok, let's cut right to the chase. I've decided to shut down this blog. But it's actually a good thing! And it's fitting that I do it today, as a way to mark Lughnasadh. In the past, today was a time to gather in nature's harvest; now we instead reflect on what is manifesting in our lives as the year draws closer and closer to autumn. As I reflect in this way, I see that I'm moving more and more out of my spiritual closet and into the wider world. I'm also finding more outlets for my writing, and that's been a great experience. Since I don't really "harvest" in the traditional sense, I also like to think of this time of the year as one of nature's maturity. We've gone from new growth in the spring and have now arrived at full flower and maturity. And so this is reflected in my own life, too.

When I started this blog a little less than 3 years ago, I was also beginning a new spiritual path. I was insecure, unsure and just looking for an outlet. Now that I'm more confident and sure of my path, I'm emerging into the "real world," and so I need this outlet less and less. I was also searching for my own voice, if you will. For various reasons, I didn't know who I was or, at the least, didn't feel confident in expressing certain aspects of my life. I still have a way to go, but I do think I've found my voice now, both in spiritual expression and direction, and in my writing. Hurray!

Since my hiatus earlier this summer, I've been on a nice vacation, spent some time writing, and I've conducted one house blessing and another ceremony I created for high school graduations. In addition, I've been digging further into my family's ancestry and have found new connections--one of those is that 1 set of great-grandparents are buried less than 1/2 mile from my current home. So one thing I'm exploring more is my ancestors.

I do plan to leave this page up so that I can still connect with many of you from time to time. You have such interesting things to say and share! Just don't come here expecting to see anything new. But--who knows, I may revive this blog if the mood hits me again. I want to thank everyone who has read a post or left a comment; so many of you have encouraged me along my path, reaching out to share a common interest when I often felt isolated or tentative. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

In closing, I'd like to encourage you all to follow your heart, take chances and believe in yourself. This world is a wonderful place, and all it takes to see it is for us to open our eyes and look. At the bottom of this blog, I've included something written by Rumi that I think sums up what I'm trying to say. When my eyes finally opened several years ago, a friend showed me this poem, and it felt as if Rumi had been reading my mind. So I've repeated it here:

"The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

"Don't go back to sleep.

"You must ask for what you really want.
"Don't do back to sleep.

"People are going back and forth across the doorsill where two worlds touch.

"The door is round and open.

"Don't go back to sleep."

Honoring Lughnasadh--and a Goodbye

Ok, let's cut right to the chase. I've decided to shut down this blog. But it's actually a good thing! And it's fitting that I do it today, as a way to mark Lughnasadh. In the past, today was a time to gather in nature's harvest; now we instead reflect on what is manifesting in our lives as the year draws closer and closer to autumn. As I reflect in this way, I see that I'm moving more and more out of my spiritual closet and into the wider world. I'm also finding more outlets for my writing, and that's been a great experience. Since I don't really "harvest" in the traditional sense, I also like to think of this time of the year as one of nature's maturity. We've gone from new growth in the spring and have now arrived at full flower and maturity. And so this is reflected in my own life, too.

When I started this blog a little less than 3 years ago, I was also beginning a new spiritual path. I was insecure, unsure and just looking for an outlet. Now that I'm more confident and sure of my path, I'm emerging into the "real world," and so I need this outlet less and less. I was also searching for my own voice, if you will. For various reasons, I didn't know who I was or, at the least, didn't feel confident in expressing certain aspects of my life. I still have a way to go, but I do think I've found my voice now, both in spiritual expression and direction, and in my writing. Hurray!

Since my hiatus earlier this summer, I've been on a nice vacation, spent some time writing, and I've conducted one house blessing and another ceremony I created for high school graduations. In addition, I've been digging further into my family's ancestry and have found new connections--one of those is that 1 set of great-grandparents are buried less than 1/2 mile from my current home. So one thing I'm exploring more is my ancestors.

I do plan to leave this page up so that I can still connect with many of you from time to time. You have such interesting things to say and share! Just don't come here expecting to see anything new. But--who knows, I may revive this blog if the mood hits me again. I want to thank everyone who has read a post or left a comment; so many of you have encouraged me along my path, reaching out to share a common interest when I often felt isolated or tentative. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

In closing, I'd like to encourage you all to follow your heart, take chances and believe in yourself. This world is a wonderful place, and all it takes to see it is for us to open our eyes and look. At the bottom of this blog, I've included something written by Rumi that I think sums up what I'm trying to say. When my eyes finally opened several years ago, a friend showed me this poem, and it felt as if Rumi had been reading my mind. So I've repeated it here:

"The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

"Don't go back to sleep.

"You must ask for what you really want.
"Don't do back to sleep.

"People are going back and forth across the doorsill where two worlds touch.

"The door is round and open.

"Don't go back to sleep."

A Quiet Lughnasadh

Even though I don't live by the old agricultural calendar/festivals, it's a nice way to stay connected to the Earth. Today is Lughnasadh or Lammas, part of the Celtic calendar when some of the first big harvest would come in, of grain and corn, for example. It's a time to remember that we depend on the Earth's fertility, that even if we shop in grocery stores and buy mostly packaged food, it still originates in the dirt as it always has.

So to mark this time, I walked to my favorite spot by the lake (which is lower than ever, by the way--not good). I just needed quiet time to myself. With the idea of harvest in mind, I took symbols of my writing, my shamanic practice and my new ministerial services, and blessed them with the intent that they are fruitful over the next year. I brought along some blueberries and bread to eat; I also left a few bites for the critters. Then I read this seasonal meditation. I don't go in so much for the "god/goddess/lord/lady" language, but it does have beautiful imagery:

Now is the time of the First Harvest,
When the bounties of nature give of themselves
So that we may survive.

O god of the ripening fields, Lord of the Grain,
Grant me the understanding of sacrifice
As you prepare to deliver yourself
Under the sickle of the goddess
And journey to the lands of eternal summer.

O goddess of the dark moon,
Teach me the secrets of rebirth
As the sun loses its strength and the nights grow cold.

I partake of the First Harvest,
Mixing its energies with mine
That I may continue my quest
For the starry wisdom of perfection.

O Lady of the Moon and Lord of the Sun,
before whom the stars halt their courses,
I offer my thanks
For the continuing fertility of the Earth.
May the nodding grain loose its seeds
To be buried in the Mother's breast,
Ensuring rebirth in the warmth of next spring.

A Quiet Lughnasadh

Even though I don't live by the old agricultural calendar/festivals, it's a nice way to stay connected to the Earth. Today is Lughnasadh or Lammas, part of the Celtic calendar when some of the first big harvest would come in, of grain and corn, for example. It's a time to remember that we depend on the Earth's fertility, that even if we shop in grocery stores and buy mostly packaged food, it still originates in the dirt as it always has.

So to mark this time, I walked to my favorite spot by the lake (which is lower than ever, by the way--not good). I just needed quiet time to myself. With the idea of harvest in mind, I took symbols of my writing, my shamanic practice and my new ministerial services, and blessed them with the intent that they are fruitful over the next year. I brought along some blueberries and bread to eat; I also left a few bites for the critters. Then I read this seasonal meditation. I don't go in so much for the "god/goddess/lord/lady" language, but it does have beautiful imagery:

Now is the time of the First Harvest,
When the bounties of nature give of themselves
So that we may survive.

O god of the ripening fields, Lord of the Grain,
Grant me the understanding of sacrifice
As you prepare to deliver yourself
Under the sickle of the goddess
And journey to the lands of eternal summer.

O goddess of the dark moon,
Teach me the secrets of rebirth
As the sun loses its strength and the nights grow cold.

I partake of the First Harvest,
Mixing its energies with mine
That I may continue my quest
For the starry wisdom of perfection.

O Lady of the Moon and Lord of the Sun,
before whom the stars halt their courses,
I offer my thanks
For the continuing fertility of the Earth.
May the nodding grain loose its seeds
To be buried in the Mother's breast,
Ensuring rebirth in the warmth of next spring.

A Dose of Thanks and Grief in Lugnasadh Ritual

Today I went home for my Lugnasadh ritual. First I finished my lunch on the deck, and it's a beautifully sunny and breezy day.

For background on my reasons for celebrating, click here.

Then I headed out to the Circle in the yard, lit a candle and called to all 4 directions. In a bowl I placed bread, blueberries and an apple. These all symbolize the early harvest of this time of year. The apple came from my neighbor's tree (he never uses them!) and the blueberries were from the farmer's market. I didn't have time to fetch fresh bread, so loaf bread would have to do. I took a moment to meditate on thankfulness for this food, nature's capacity and the harvests we still depend on even in today's modern world.

The paper in the photo is from the notepad I use in my writing. So next, I meditated on how more writing opportunities are manifesting in my life right now. I passed the paper over the candle flame and asked a short blessing on this "tool of my trade" with hopes that harvest will continue.

I also meditated on summertime, how alive everything is, the warmth of the sun and how I might grow even more aware of my connections to nature.

A few ants had already discovered the bread and were tearing off tiny bits to carry back to their colonies. I took a couple bites of the apple, and then tossed the rest of the bowl's contents into the grass for the other insects, geese and birds to enjoy.

No special impressions--except that I was surprised how overcome with grief I am lately. Sitting there during my ritual, I just felt like putting my head in my hands and bawling. It's grief over my partner and what he's lost due to his stroke and how that's affected our relationship. It's grief over how these changes manifest in other ways: neglect in the garden and yard, my partner's inability to keep track of objects, days and plans we make. More and more falls to me, and I simply am not Superman. There's even more, but hell, I just don't feel like dredging it up at the moment.

All in all, it was refreshing to take these few moments today and spend them alone honoring the natural world from which I was born, derive my life and to which I will one day return.

A Dose of Thanks and Grief in Lugnasadh Ritual

Today I went home for my Lugnasadh ritual. First I finished my lunch on the deck, and it's a beautifully sunny and breezy day.

For background on my reasons for celebrating, click here.

Then I headed out to the Circle in the yard, lit a candle and called to all 4 directions. In a bowl I placed bread, blueberries and an apple. These all symbolize the early harvest of this time of year. The apple came from my neighbor's tree (he never uses them!) and the blueberries were from the farmer's market. I didn't have time to fetch fresh bread, so loaf bread would have to do. I took a moment to meditate on thankfulness for this food, nature's capacity and the harvests we still depend on even in today's modern world.

The paper in the photo is from the notepad I use in my writing. So next, I meditated on how more writing opportunities are manifesting in my life right now. I passed the paper over the candle flame and asked a short blessing on this "tool of my trade" with hopes that harvest will continue.

I also meditated on summertime, how alive everything is, the warmth of the sun and how I might grow even more aware of my connections to nature.

A few ants had already discovered the bread and were tearing off tiny bits to carry back to their colonies. I took a couple bites of the apple, and then tossed the rest of the bowl's contents into the grass for the other insects, geese and birds to enjoy.

No special impressions--except that I was surprised how overcome with grief I am lately. Sitting there during my ritual, I just felt like putting my head in my hands and bawling. It's grief over my partner and what he's lost due to his stroke and how that's affected our relationship. It's grief over how these changes manifest in other ways: neglect in the garden and yard, my partner's inability to keep track of objects, days and plans we make. More and more falls to me, and I simply am not Superman. There's even more, but hell, I just don't feel like dredging it up at the moment.

All in all, it was refreshing to take these few moments today and spend them alone honoring the natural world from which I was born, derive my life and to which I will one day return.