Monday, 24 October 2016

Dawn and Dusk


Neither night nor day, light nor dark. The times of sunrise and sunset or the 'times-between-times' have always had particular importance in mysticism and folklore. It's not just about celebrating sunrise on the solstice  at Stonehenge or Newgrange, as is becoming increasingly popular. Many religious rituals took place at sunrise or sunset, and in some cases still do. Cultures from the Egyptians to the Celts revered this time.  

Sunrise and sunset were  important in marking the progress of the year, vital when life depended so much on the seasons, but there is more to it than that.
In a world which is composed of opposites – day and night, sun and moon, good and evil, masculine and feminine, positive and negative, and so on – instances when these boundaries are blurred attract great attention.  Because when opposites combine, something extraordinary is formed.
Male and female combine to produce life. Positive and negative combine on a subatomic level to form atoms, and then molecules, and then the entirety of existence. And so dawn and dusk are considered times of transcendence, times when the soul can attain a higher level of consciousness, times when the portals open and it is possible to cross to other realms.

The reason is linked to energy flow. A natural energy current flows through both the Earth and all living things. When the sun is on the horizon, it exerts a gravitational pull which amplifies this energy, as is seen in the tides of the sea. We, like most living things, can sense this surge of energy and are uplifted in more ways than one. Everybody feels something special in watching a sunrise or sunset. And this is what triggers the religious, spiritual and metaphysical associations of the times-between-times.
Everyone feels the tranquillity and peace of watching the sun sink beyond the horizon, and everyone feels happier for having done so. This is the reason why.

Monday, 17 October 2016

The Hunter's Moon


The full moon in October is known as the Hunter's Moon. It shines down on the start of the autumn hunting season.

In many cultures which depended on hunting game for survival, it was taboo to hunt pregnant or nursing animals, essential as they were for the future of both hunted and hunter. But in autumn when the year's young were weaned and often searching for a territory of their own, and the old and weak were declining in fitness as food became scarce, the hunting season began.

Those animals which wouldn't survive the winter were culled, which then left what food there was for those able to breed next season. And those fit young animals which were now surplus to requirements often went the same way.

Thus the delicate balance between hunter and hunted, life and death, each equally dependent on the other, was carefully maintained to enable that balance to perpetuate into the future.

Thursday, 13 October 2016

The Fruit of Wisdom



The apple carries a vast amount of symbolism and esoteric wisdom. It has been associated with immortality, truth and purity  since time immemorial and so has the greatest role in folklore of all fruits. 
When an apple is cut in half horizontally, the five seeds form a pentagram, the ancient and sacred symbol of power and wisdom, and this may explain its mythical significance. 



The apple is most famed as the  fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, although interestingly this is not  actually specified in the Book of Genesis, it is a later addition to the story. As it was an apple that ultimately led to Adam and Eve's eviction from Eden and the fall of man, it is often now considered the fruit of the devil by some Christian groups.


The British paradise of Avalon and the Irish paradise of  Emain Ablach both derive from the term 'land of apples,' and both places are filled with this divine tree. And the apple features much in Celtic myth, particularly in hero-quests. For example the early Welsh poem Yr Afallennau, (the apple tree) tells of the prophet Merlin's madness until he takes refuge in a magical apple tree.


In Norse myth the apple was the symbol of youth and immortality. In Greek myth, the Golden Apples of the Hesperides were given to Hera, Queen of the Gods, on her wedding day by Gaia, the Earth, and are representative of the wisdom of Mother Earth. They were stolen by Hercules as one of his twelve labours.


It was an apple which started the Trojan War:  Eris, Goddess of Discord, threw an apple into a wedding celebration marked 'for the fairest'. Three goddesses claimed the prize and the Trojan Prince named Paris was appointed judge. He chose Aphrodite, and she gave him the fabled Helen in reward. The only problem: Helen was already married. Her husband Menelaus  took exception to her abduction and so began this most famous war. 


In more recent myths, we have the unicorn, the animal of purity, who lives beneath an apple tree;  William Tell, shooting an apple from his son's head; Snow White, eating a poisoned apple and falling into an enchanted sleep; and the tree at the centre of Narnia, C.S. Lewis' philosophical creation, which was, you guessed it, an apple.


The final word has to go to the great Isaac Newton, said to be the first of the scientists and the last of the mystics. He  knew full well the esoteric significance of the apple. And it  is no accident that he discovered the nature of gravity, opening countless doors to scientific revolution, because of... an apple.

Thursday, 6 October 2016

Harvest Home


Harvest marks an ending. The end of the farming year, the end of the life cycle for plants cultivated and wild. The seeds then mark a beginning - the beginning of the next year as the eternal cycle of life continues.
And as harvest is the beginning of an end, so its end was celebrated with gusto in all rural communities. The time when all men, women and children worked sun up to sun down to bring the harvest home, cementing friendships and a sense of shared struggle which forged a community spirit, was over for another year.

The harvest festival, intended to give thanks to the gods (or later God) for their success and to provide an auspicious start for the new season, is still a ubiquitous aspect of rural life as it has been in cultures worldwide for millennia.

In Britain, the final load was brought home with great ceremony. The horse and wagon were bedecked with flowers and ribbons, and all men and boys would ride atop the wagon and sing hearty songs.

Up! Up! Up! A happy harvest home!
We have sowed, we have mowed
We have carried our last load!

I have ripped my shirt

And teared my skin
To get my master's harvest in!

This was followed by a grand supper where all the workers and their families sat down to tables laden with beef, vegetables and plum pudding. These harvest suppers still survive in some places, although far removed from their original form.

Like many British traditions, the Harvest Home was barely remembered after the First World War. A generation of rural workers lay under foreign soil, and an ancient custom, passed down for generations from old to young, was broken.

Thursday, 29 September 2016

The Corn Spirit








In Celtic Britain, people believed that all animate and inanimate objects possessed an aspect of the great divine spirit which encompassed the entirety of existence.
The corn fields were especially imbued with this spirit, epitomised as the Dying-and-Rising God - he who lives, dies and  is reborn in constant flux. In popular culture today, this spirit is known as John Barleycorn.
As harvest progressed, the corn spirit was condensed into an ever-decreasing area until it was contained in the final sheaf to be mown.
This sheaf  was never stored in the barn and threshed with the rest of the crop. It was carefully  preserved and scattered back on the fields on spring, thus returning the corn spirit to the fields. Failure to observe this ritual would result in bad luck, crop failure and famine during the coming year. This tradition was upheld into the 20th century, in countries across Europe from Britain as far as Russia. This hints at the antiquity of  the custom. 
Long after the original esoteric meaning of this tradition  was forgotten, lost among the new rites of Christianity, the custom clung on in many forms. The sheaf was hung up on New Year's Day in Midland Britain for hungry birds to peck. Corn dollies are another offshoot of the tradition.
This is not much done now, but if you see a sheaf of corn hanging somewhere, you can bet it contains the corn spirit, waiting to be returned home.

Sunday, 6 December 2015

The Willow


Willow, a prolific tree of wet places, is the most versatile wood of all. It was used for baskets, fences, hurdles, and all manner of other products. A derivative of aspirin can be obtained from the bark, so it was prized by healers.
Its alternative name is 'withy'. Willow and withy both derive from the same root word as 'witch' and 'wicked'. The tree was highly valued by witches, a point which perhaps links to its healing properties: women who understood herb-lore were often accused of witchcraft.
Willow is the material the Druids supposedly made their wicker [another derivitive of willow] baskets for human sacrifices, although this may be Roman anti-Druid propaganda. You set the wood on fire, it burns away, the victims walk away. Doesn't really work.
Willow was also associated with the Greek Muses: their abode, Helicon, derives from the Greek 'helice' meaning willow.

Next time, another sacred tree.

Saturday, 7 November 2015

The Ash


The ash is one of the crowning trees of the British countryside. It grows tall, straight and strong and its peculiarly grey colour makes it instantly recognisable.
Its qualities make the wood ideal for spears, hence its old name of 'weapon-wood'. The Anglo-Saxon word 'aesc' meant both ash and spear.
Another characteristic of the ash is its stability: it rarely topples in even the worst winter storm. The Saxons believed that its roots sank into the underworld itself, and so the ash became the World Tree, known by myriad names worldwide, perhaps most commonly as Yggdrasil,  which links Earth with the realms of the Gods, giants, dwarves and the dead. The five Magic Trees of Ireland, felled by triumphing Christians in the 7th century, were also mainly ashes.
The Meliads, ash tree nymphs of Greek mythology, were much revered in ancient times, and the tree was sacred to Poseidon. This is the only tree except the oak to have its own specific supernatural inhabitants.
A 'maiden' ash, self-sown and never pruned, was especially powerful in Britain. Its wood was used for horse whips to ward off magical harm, and a wizard's magic wand was also often ash.
The recently discovered ash dieback disease has been said by some to herald the end of this tree, just as mature elms in Britain are now a relic of history.  I'm happy to say this is not now believed likely.
Next time, the story of another magical tree.