I woke this morning dreaming of Christmas. I have been reading a book on how our traditions began, and, of course, many of our belief systems, many of them set down in stone as religion, formulated way back in those "pagan" times, when people observed the sun and the moon, and the seasons and fertility in birthing and ripening of crops. That is when the idea of seasonal sacrifice began, to ensure a good crop for next year. The traditions have been incorporated into religions of today.
Yesterday I was mesmerized with the clean shine of greens. Today is gray and yet, still the greens, perhaps in momentary rest, know the feel and fuel of rising sap, the internalization of the increasing light, the return of spring. Spring!
The moon gave us its huge bowl of light the night before last and now each night a little less until three days without it. Three days. Hmmm!
I read recently that in the 7th century, the symbol of the crucified Jesus replaced the Lamb. A symbol of death and suffering replaced one of growth and possibility. I wonder what it does to our psyches to see a man hanging from a cross, nailed there, with his head falling down, wounds exposed. I couldn't believe that image as a child, could not believe someone would nail another to a cross, though I had seen the image, but I could not somehow take in the act of it. Perhaps that gives a clue as to how gently I was raised.
According to the above reading, in the 7th century, Mary, the Great Goddess, the feminine, was replaced by the Holy Ghost.
Here we are, grounded in, on, and of the land, and the image of that productivity and support, Mother Earth, is replaced with the image of something ethereal, sometimes seen as a dove.
When I was a child, I would awake from a dream of a witch stirring a huge cauldron. I was frightened by the dream. Now, I know the cauldron is the symbol of transformation, restoration, the womb.
I believe we do need support, a belief system and I have no desire to denigrate or question anyone's beliefs or non-beliefs.
This is the season, in this hemisphere, when life appears to return. What was bare with the appearance, possibly of death, now waves flowers. I am surrounded with scent and branches of pink, yellow, and white.
For those "down under," there is a different rhythm, a different settling in. These times allow us to choose to experience two summers in a year, two winters, or to live on the equator, where each day the sun sets at six, where twelve hour days and nights are norm.
We are exposed to so much now, so many belief systems, so many seasons. My friend who just returned from Argentina is in long summer days. She cannot adjust, and yet, her travels bring her more appreciation of the country in which she lives, the landscape of home.
Perhaps I simply want to share this growing bubbling within, this cauldron of love and light, the joy I feel in the Home that I am, the land in which I dwell.
Continuing blessings, understanding, and insights for us All as we wiggle in this new juiciness of Spring! The ladybugs and worms are out where I live. The earth is alive!
As am I!