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The Wheel of the Year

Yesterday was the equinox, and once again my social feeds were full of “first day of Spring! 🌸”

I understand this may be difficult for some, but every calendar has lied to you. The spring equinox is not the start of spring, it’s the midpoint. Just like the Solstices are not the start of summer/winter. They are literally called Midsummer and Midwinter. So, here’s how the Wheel of the Year and the seasonal progressions works, based on the Sabbats that my tradition uses.

Samhain - start of the year, start of Winter. I usually feel it as a deep calm.

Yule - winter solstice, midwinter. This starts the deep winter, where nature tries to kill us with deep cold before spring arrives.

Imbolc/Brigit/Candlemas - start of spring. I usually feel this as an awakening, something energizing.

Spring Equinox/Ostara/Eostar - midpoint of spring, when it starts warming up for summer. (I don’t care to use Ostara/Eostar because I don’t have a similar name for the Autumn equinox. Don’t @ me about Mabon, it’s too new for me. /grumpy granny-trad witch)

Beltaine - start of summer. There’s a smell in the air, something warm and sweet. Usually happens when the hawthorns bloom.

Summer Solstice - midsummer. Yeah, we could use Litha for this, but it’s not what I grew up using, so. Also, Litha literally means midsummer. There is no way that the midpoint of summer is the start of summer. This starts the height of summer weather.

Lammas/Lughnasadh - start of autumn. It’s still warm. Maybe even hot. But there’s a chill in the wind, and the days are soon to start getting colder.

Autumn Equinox - midpoint of autumn, when it starts turning more wintery.

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It’s Festival of Lights, so our tree is up and lit. This year’s lights are blue/white, and it’s decorated with family keepsake ornaments we’ve collected over the years.

My personal ornaments are a Starbucks mug (with the kid riding the ornament, if you’re familiar), a snowflake fairy from the Nutcracker, an iron star, and Tinkerbell in the keyhole.

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“Wary, Hades knew he should regret this day of hasty decisions. But she was warm. And sweet. And light. He stood, bowing low, bidding his new queen good night. To his surprise, Persephone cupped his face in her rough hands and kissed the Lord of Darkness lightly on the left temple. Under her lips, white stars blossomed in his hair for only a moment. They wilted and fell. And he fell.”

— The Illustrated Hades and Persephone, Megan C. Lloyd

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Inktober day 28: gift

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For most of my life, I’ve a member of a tradition that is well established. There are several covens that follow this tradition, and there are historians involved to ensure that what we pass on is both true to the tradition and its founder.

Until we began this particular trad, our coven practised something similar to it, but not quite the same. In a lot of ways, I felt a little betrayed that we moved away from what I’d grown up doing and was comfortable with.

A few years ago, our coven kinda fell apart. We stopped doing ritual. Members stopped coming over. This was not unexpected; there were a lot of life upheavals during that time. Our High Priestess had to start a new career path. I had to start a new career path. One of our members moved. Another was beginning a relationship that would become her marriage and relocation. One passed away. One didn’t feel the magic in the work anymore.

Earlier this year, my sister began a quest to find the deities that claimed her. For the first time in quite a while, she was ready to work. The tradition we were raised in was wrong for this work, though, and she had no background in creating a ritual space or casting a circle, or any of the other things she was compelled to do. She asked for my help.

Piece by piece, we gathered the things we would need: an offering plate, a chalice, food and drink, candles, candle holders, iconography, a cauldron, wood and kindling, tokens to offer, incense.

We knew where we would perform this rite. There’s a grove behind our house, not really visible from the road or driveway, and hopefully far enough away from the neighbouring houses that we wouldn’t draw attention.

I fell back on my old knowledge of how we did things before joining the tradition. I walked her through casting the circle, invoking the quarters and deities, making her offering, dedicating herself to the service of her goddess, and closing the circle.

During all of this, we realized that we were creating something new. A new path for the two of us to follow that feels more like home than I’ve felt in a long time. I’m looking forward to doing more rituals in it, even with just the two of us. We’re making our own elemental statuary, writing our own blessings and rituals. I don’t know if it will ever be more than the two of us. If we do share it with anyone else, I hope it feels as much like home to them as it does us.

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Festival of Lights has come to a close. It’s been several years since we actually did a ritual to start lighting the way for the Sun’s return, lighting a candle on the Yule Log to count down the Solstice, but other traditions still hold.

Our Festival of Lights coincides with Santa Lucia/Saint Lucy’s Day, and I remember dressing as Santa Lucia in elementary school, but I don’t think that the two have always been so entwined. I honestly don’t recall if we celebrated Festival of Lights before I was in school, and particularly before I was introduced to the concept of Santa Lucia. I suppose it doesn’t really matter, since it’s when we celebrate it now. Wikipedia does have some interesting things to say about the day, especially the concept of bringing light to the world on the longest night of the year (which it was, in the Julian calendar). Very clearly, this is tied to our modern celebrations of Yule/Winter Solstice, welcoming the Sun back.

At some point in early December, our tree gets set up. On the 13th, we decorate it and turn on the lights. Most years, it stays lit until the end of the year, but there will be a short break this year while we travel.

Another tradition for my family is ornaments. Every year, we each find an ornament that is representative of our year, whether it’s something we enjoyed doing or an important moment for us. Last year, I brought home ornaments from the ballet. The year before that, my sister and I got miniature Starbucks mugs. We haven’t gotten ornaments yet this year, but I’m sure we will.

There are usually three different patterns of wrapping paper used. A blue and white with snowflakes that my sister and I use, something pretty that our parents use, and something with holly for the Holly King presents. Growing up a Witch, we didn’t have Santa until after we started school, and even then it was only a couple of years. Instead, the Holly King brought us presents for Yule/Winter Solstice. He filled our stockings, and left one or two presents for the family.

This year, we have four different patterns of wrapping paper. Our yearly pyjamas are wrapped in a fourth pattern so we know which presents to open the night before. Sleeping in new pyjamas brings good dreams and luck. Just ask me.

Traditions are on my mind a lot right now. My middle sister has two kids, and I don’t know if they’ve only ever celebrated Christmas since moving. This year, we’re travelling to visit them for Yule, and will be gone by Christmas. We’re bringing Holly King presents and ornaments to keep the traditions going another year. We’re bringing our holiday movie selection (Hogfather, Die Hard, Scrooged, Christmas Vacation).

It’s going to be interesting, to say the least.

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This evening we celebrated Samhain in our traditional way, with a Dumb Supper. Our meal was a pork shoulder with a pomegranate sauce, pomegranate seeds, mushrooms (both raw and cooked), and roasted vegetables (potatoes, carrots, onion, and brussel sprouts).

The Dumb Supper is a silent meal, allowing for contemplation and reflection on loved ones who have passed. Some years, we cry. Some years, we fight to keep from sharing memories. Some years, we’re too young to really understand what the significance of the meal is, so we talk anyway.

This year was a quiet one for me. No loved ones pulling at me for attention. I’d thought maybe one of my cats would visit, but no. None of them come around, really. I would guess that their work is done, so they’re enjoying their afterlife, or have been reincarnated.

Death has called several people in my life. My godmother died when I was three or four. My grandaddy died when I was six.  My gym teacher from elementary school. A dear family friend lost his battle with HIV/AIDS. My grandmommy, when I was entering high school. My grandpa around the same time. My grandma almost a decade ago. Three cats that I called mine. Two fish that were.

I miss them. I’ll remember them. I’ll remember the good times, and the bad, because there’s never only one or the other.

The wheel turns another spoke. Winter begins. Life lies dormant, waiting for the return of the Sun.