Hogmanay

Hogmanay

"I am now come to your country,
Renewing the duty of Hogmanay;
Of its mysteries, what need I tell?
It began in the time of our ancestors."
   ___ Scots Gaelic song of Hogmanay (trans CM)


   The festival of Hogmanay - a word whose origins are lost - is celebrated in Scotland every New Year's Eve. A festival that outshine Christmas even today. Hogmanay is celebrated with vigor by every Scot. Rich food and strong drink are abundant; shining music and lively dancing are enjoyed.  The custom of first-footing - of receiving with celebration the first guest across the threshold after the stroke of midnight - is still practiced. According to tradition, the first-footer should be a dark-haired person from outside the household who is able to bring good fortune to the house; healthy, young, and vigorous people are particularly welcomed. The first-footer brings a 'handsel' (or a token of good fortune) to the household.  This is usually fuel, food or a bottle of whisky. The first-footer is then hospitably welcomed and given a gift, usually joining in the party that runs until the small hours of the morning.
   The magical turning of the old used-up year into a fresh new one has little to do with chronology and much to do with the hope of new beginnings and all that they bring. The old year can bring no more opportunities to us, but we can give it a good send-off with a party that simultaneously welcomes the new possibilities ahead. If the celebrations of this evening become sometimes riotous or rowdy, it is worth remembering that the mysterious crack between one year and another is best leaped rather than crawled over! In this time between worlds and times, nothing is as orderly as normal. It is a time to celebrate life and the return of the sun from its darkest, deepest depths.

"Welcome the new year over your threshold and see the old year out with some fancy footwork and good cheer!"
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

Gathering in the Year

Gathering in the Year

"It is the year's end that the fisherman
tells of his fishing."
   ___ Scots Gaelic proverb


   The end of the calendar year is the time when we traditionally look forward and make good resolutions for the coming year. But before we can do that, we need also to make a summation of the past year's shape. It may be helpful to wind the year backward, retracing our steps from November back to January. As we go backward, month by month, we can consider the following questions: What was the major theme of this month? Which events made the greatest impression on my life? What did I achieve? What mistakes do I regret?. The point is not to indulge in blame and guilt but to neutrally survey our findings.
    Now look back over the year as a whole and make a summation of its overall pattern and effect upon you. What has this year meant in real terms to you. How has it changed the world? Which new figures and influences have come into your life?
   Now for the third part of this review. Looking at the year just past, move forward from January to December, asking questions about each month: What seeds were sown in this month that affect me now? What wisdom have I learned? Which patterns and connections are poised to continue unfolding in the year ahead?  Which obstruction or unhelpful aspects of my own behavior need to change? Having made our review, we can now consider the year ahead and lay down pathways of resolution and intention that will help guide our steps.

"Make your review of the year as suggested above."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

Heart's Desire

Heart's Desire

"You shall receive whatever gift you may name, as far as wind
dries, rain wets, sun revolves; as far as sea encircles and earth
extends."    ___ Culhwch and Olwen, from "The Mabinogian"
  (trans CM)


   How many times since childhood have we pondered our heart's desire? When we were young, we grasped the notion of bountiful giving and the granting of wishes very easily from the folk and faery stories that we read. In our growing up, we began to struggle against the denial of heart's desire. As adults, most of us have given over even contemplating it.
    The heart's desire is not an illusory or unachievable ambition if we can suspend our adult disbelief. The true heart's desire is an integral potentiality, a germinated seed waiting to manifest. So what prevents us from achieving it? Our lives may be littered with unresolved and undeveloped wishes, all of which block the way to our true heart's desire. If we are to achieve the core of our wish, we must first rescind and cancel our immature wishes - unless, of course, we still wish to grow a monkey's tail, obtain a rocking horse, drive a steam engine, or marry Elvis Presley!  We must cancel our old and immature wishes by calling them back and revoking them, along with any other idle wishes we may have uttered and since forgotten. Then the way stands clear.
    If we can commune deeply upon our true heart's desire, rather than upon our fantasies, if we can envision it with every cell of our body and call to it, then we send a true song to make the pathway between ourselves and our heart's desire.

"What is your heart's desire? Which former wishes are preventing you from attaining it? Cancel them, as suggested above."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The image above is a tarot card from Ms. Matthews tarot deck "The Celtic Wisdom Tarot" deck... It is a card titled Revelation of Art, from the Minor suite of Water.  It's Soul Wisdom is: "Wishes come true for those who keep the longing alive. Ensure that you really want what you wish for. Rescind any wishes that are no longer appropriate. What is your heart's true desire? 

The Chalice of Rememberance

The Chalice of Rememberance

"And when the circling year comes round,
And Christmas snows have wrapt the ground...
Take the cup, and drink the wine,
'Drinc heil' - as I to thee and thine."
    ___ John Sobieske Stuart, "With an Antique
   Crystal Cup and Ring"


   When death or accident befalls us at time of holiday, it is very difficult to re-engage with the general celebration. Some people choose to go away at this season rather than to relive difficult memories that accompany this time. Even the angle of the light or the weather, the carols and songs, the smell of rich foods can enhance the memory of loss. It seems altogether easier to go away somewhere without memories than force a cheerful countenance or dampen the celebrations of others.
    This process of anniversarial grieving is not widely understood: family and friends may attempt to draw the bereaved out of her grieving solitude into the heart of jollification, baffled and perhaps angry at the lack of response to their generosity. Grief and loss are not processes that can be hurried, however; the grieving one cannot 'pull herself together' or to order.
    A bridge of hope and connection can be erected on the anniversary by a simple ritual known as the chalice of remembrance. A liquid-filled glass that all present can drink from is set in front of a photograph or emblem that represents the dead person. Then all present speak simply and directly to the dead person, drinking to him but leaving a little of the liquid so that the last drink belongs to him. The remaining liquid is left overnight with a candle burning and then poured out upon the earth the next morning. In this way, the anniversary is marked, the mourning shared, and the circle of love reunited.

"Meditate upon other ritual acts that might be used to help mark grief and loss in ways that bring
integration to the bereaved."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

Being Human

Being Human

"What is the thing the Creator never saw, that kings see but seldom and that I see every day?
The Creator never saw another the same as his
self, kings are scarce and see each other seldom, but I see my own kind every day - other folk like myself." 
   ___ Scots Gaelic riddle (trans CM)


    During the twelve of Christmas, a Lord of Misrule was appointed to created games, riddles and forfeits to amuse the company. The riddle above with its witty answer, is a typical brain-teaser. This holiday time of gathering offers us the opportunity to consider what it is to be human. Being human does not keep us from kinship with others animals: the same life passes through our veins, we share the same ability to perceive with the senses, and our bodies die and decay in the same way. What makes us different from animals is our self-awareness and our ability to use our minds in complex and sophisticated ways; our application of language; our ability to record information outside of our memories.
    There are many stories of deities who have aspired to the human condition, gods and goddesses who have purposely chosen the gifts of mortality in order to share and exponentially understand what it is to be human. Within this extraordinary interchange, the divine becomes briefly human, just as through our spiritual striving we attempt to understand the gifts of mortality.
    This wonderful reciprocation of the earthly and otherworldly realms seems to be part of the mystery that underlies the depths of midwinter, a season that was understood in the ancient world to be the time when sacred beings incarnated, to be numbered among the peoples of the earth, to understand the gifts of being human. If our human state is to much sought after, how much more precious seems our mortality and its many gifts?

"What, for you, are the gifts of being human?"
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The King of All Birds

The King of All Birds

"The wren, the wren, the king of all birds
On St. Stephen's Day was caught in the furze,
Although he is little, his family is great
So rise up, good people, and give us a treat."
   ___ "The Wren's Song"  traditional Irish lay


   The old Celtic custom of hunting for the wren, killing it, and passing it around the village in a holly-bush care in return for money, food or drink continues in Ireland on this December day, although a wren is no longer killed. Instead, wren-boys take an empty decorated wren-cage around their neighborhood and beg for treats. The origins of this custom are lost to us, but we may conjecture. A folk story common across Europe tells how the birds had a battle to see who would be their king. The contest required all the birds to fly into the sky and see how near they could get to the sun. As all the birds climbed higher only the eagle could be seen soaring above the others on its powerful wings. It loudly claimed the kingship, asserting that it had risen higher than the rest. Then a little voice cried out from its back, 'But I am higher even than you!'   It was the tiny wren, who was then made king of all birds.
    The wren or drelan, is the druid's bird, and its utterances and cries were once the subject of augury and divination by the ovates (or druidic seers). The oracular bird was clearly important to them and was protected throughout the year. Indeed, it is still thought to be unlucky to harm a wren. The sacrifice of living beings is very distasteful to us now, but our ancestors made offerings of precious life to create bridges between this world and the otherworld at certain times. The death and honoring of wrens seems to be inextricably associated with the returning of the sun: a rite of propitiation and celebration at once, a case of 'the king is dead, long live the king.'

"Set aside from your winter riches, your own charitable offering."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

Sacred Life

Sacred Life

"Everything that lives is holy."
    ___ William Blake, "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell"


   For hundreds of years, the false tale that whatever is alive is evil has been told: this tale has been told from fear and denial, from pain and rejection, as a way of explaining why things go wrong and why perfection cannot be expected. Many people regard the living world as a predominantly evil place, the only good beings are in heaven. Living defensively in the eye of evil is not a happy way to live. Fear and suspicion darken everything with a sad pall.
    The opposite view sees all life as worthy of respect, as potentially able to achieve its fullest stature. Of course, not every being alive reaches its potential; but then neither does it sink into irredeemable iniquity. Entertaining the possibility of all things living being able to achieve their potential of holiness is a powerful and supportive way to live.  But, like life-ways, even this view can be abused: when we live as though no harm could come, we are foolish rather than innocent.
   Life is a sacred gift that all beings receive. It is the manner of our living that makes all the difference. The way in which we relate to other living beings encourages them to change the world for good or violate the world for ill; the way in which we spend our lives illuminates or darkens those around us. But if we are not aware of the sacred potential in each living being, if we do not acknowledge it and respect it, we may become active agents of the soul's darkening. Everything that lives is holy because it is an abiding place of Spirit; every body is a home where the sacred gifts of Spirit may be born anew.

"Contemplate the living beings with whom you are in contact - not just human beings but the other living things of nature as well. Hold each of them in your heart and acknowledge their sacred gift."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]