We’re a few days after the winter solstice now, and the days are getting longer. It’s not yet at any level I can perceive, but I know it’s happening. We move from the darkness towards the light. Outside the window, the snow lies thick, and the temperature barely gets above freezing, but the year has turned and the spring will eventually come.
The cycle of the seasons teaches us that change is the only constant. There are dark times and light times, all things pass, and all things come again. Mediaeval Europeans believed in the wheel of fate, the inevitable turn from good to bad, and back again. To me that seems a tad simplistic. Different people get radically different experiences. For some the balance towards wellness, or woe, is dramatic. But most of us can expect a bit of both.
In harder times, during dark nights of the soul it is difficult to keep believing that things will change. I hit one of those last week, with yet another thing going wrong, and wondering how I had dared to imagine that anything could ever go right for me. Despair begets despair. Equally, during the wild highs, only the most pessimistic will anticipate some plummet into gloom. But we can’t stay in wild states of ecstasy all the time – we’d go mad, or burn out. The comedown can feel like everything falling apart even when it isn’t. The seasons of our lives bring change just as surely as the cycle of the sun will.
There are few things that can be improved by pretending they aren’t happening. Fighting against the fact of a process is pointless, and it’s easy to spend a lot of time trying to resist the inevitable. With all due reference to death, taxes and aging. I can’t fight the winter – it’s happening out there, it won’t go away if I pretend it isn’t. Engaging with the realities equips me to cope better. I’ve yet to find something that isn’t true of. Engage with the reality, know that the reality will change, because everything does. Know that you will probably change with it, or because of it. These are not things to struggle with. Life is happier if you co-operate with your own existence a bit.
The light returns, a few extra minutes a day. It’s such a small difference that only the most attentive will spot it as a daily occurrence, but in a week or two it’ll be more apparent. Life changes from day to day in the same small increments, and with sudden bursts of drama. Nothing changes. Everything changes, and round we go again. I aspire at the very least to make new and interesting mistakes rather than tired, old ones. I aim to find myself in new places, caught out by things I’ve not seen before. It’s all too easy to get into cycles of the same things, but where would be the fun in that? At least let me learn enough from my mistakes not to repeat them.
One of the big things in the western world at this season of Sun-Return is Father Christmas, aka Santa Claus which is derived from St Nicholas.
An advertising campaign by the Coca Cola Company in the 1930s made our current image of Father Christmas almost universal although it was fairly ubiquitous by the late 19th Century. With an expansion of global exploration in Victorian times, travellers returned home from visiting the Sami of Lapland with the story of flying reindeer, spread the tale all over central Europe. We had long forgotten our own British traditions and no longer did reindeer roam the land as they had. They are back again though now.
As is the wont of Christianity, our pagan customs have pragmatically been adapted and integrated into their Christmas traditions and so hidden from their true origins and meanings.
The Pagan Shaman
Father Christmas is an ancient pagan figure, coming from the shaman who is also the gift-bringer for the season of Sun-Return … the time of the solstice when the sun appears to stand still for 3 days and then move on again. What happens is that the sun, for the three days, appears to rise at the same point on the horizon for the 22nd, 23rd, and 24th of December and then, on the 25th, appears to move on to the next place on the horizon. Our ancestors, all over the world, observed this, along with the fact that from the solstice on the days again begin to get lighter heralding the spring. They rightly celebrated this season, as we still do. It’s good to know the origins of the celebration which are as old as humankind, perhaps some 600,000 years.
Father Christmas is special to many folk, especially children. The traditions which he is about come largely from the European shamans and wise-folk. For instance …
In the Nordic tradition, the red-and-white dressed Father Christmas is a knowing-one shaman-figure carrying Wotan’s energy. The word shaman – from the Turkic word šamán, also used in the wider Turko-Mongol and Tungusic cultures in ancient Siberia – mean “one who knows”. I use it because it’s currently reasonably well understood all around the world. One of the words for it in my own Celtic tradition is Awenydd, but that is very unknown to most so I tend to stick with shaman.
The red-white-black costume of Father Christmas goes way back in the Celtic tradition to the triplicity represented by the 3 Cups …
The Red cup of Lordship
The White cup of Fostering
The Black cup of Self-Forgetfulness (i.e. ego-restraint)
It also relates to the fly agaric mushroom, Amanita muscaria. This is “fairy mushroom” we all know from many beautiful drawings and paintings, the characteristic red mushroom with its white dots. It is a vision and dream-making mushroom but needs to be eaten very carefully and the best way to take it is one which probably turns the stomachs of many modern folk. You watch the reindeer eat the mushroom and then collect their pee … then you drink reindeer pee! The reindeer changes the constitution of the mushroom so that it is no longer so poisonous but still retains it’s magical, journeying qualities.
Siberian Reindeer have a particuar prediliction for the fungi in question and can behave very odl under their influence. The Sami actually feed the reindeer the mushrooms, then collect the Reindeer’s urine as this not only contains the full hallucinogenic strength of the Fly Agaric but much of the mushroom’s toxicity is removed by the Reindeer’s digestive processes.
So there is one connection between Father Christmas and the reindeer … and flying.
Most shamans of the Northern Hemisphere ate it ritually. Its shamanic use can be traced to the Lapps, the Siberian nomadic peoples (Samojeden, Ostjaken, Tungusen, and Jakuten), and the North American Indians. In many mythologies, storm and thunderstorm gods are associated with the fly agaric mushroom. The thunder and lightning can be how it appears as you begin a fly agaric journey through the spirit worlds.
The Germanic thunder and fertility god, Donar or Thor, drives his goat cart through the air, bringing thunder and lightning as he throws his hammer in the clouds. Thunderstones (meteorites) fall to earth where they inseminate the ground and make mushrooms grow, especially fly agarics.
The fly agaric journey is one ecstasy, knowing and knowledge. The Nordic tradition says the fly agaric mushroom grows where Wotan rides on his horse through the clouds with other members of the wild hunt, at the time of the winter solstice. Wherever the froth of Wotan’s horse fell to the ground, the ground would become “pregnant” and nine months later would sprout fly agaric mushrooms, at the time of the autumn equinox. The story sometimes says that the fly agaric mushrooms grow from a mixture of the blood (red) and froth (white) of Wotan’s white horse. The wild hunt is drawn to the mushroom, calmed and put in a good mood with incense. Wherever it finds nourishment, the wild hunt becomes guardian of house and farm. For us in the Celtic tradition this is Gwyn ap Nudd and his white fairy hounds with their red eyes and ears. He rides at solstice, through to 12th Night – The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper is wonderful story that tells of this ride and what it’s about.
Reindeer, Sleighs, and Shamans
The idea of a great variety of reindeer sleighs flying through the air at Christmastime is common, carrying a laughing, red-and-white Father Christmas in the sleigh with his sack, his rod, and the presents. Every year this ancient shaman comes to Earth in his reindeer sleigh and lands on numerous roofs to descend down chimneys. Where does this come from?
Father Christmas is a pagan shaman from the distant European past – and the current pagan present. British. Gaelic, European and Siberian mythology all have a “heavenly wild hunt”. The Siberian ones are the most quoted now because we seem to have forgotten or mislaid our own ancient shamanic traditions. The Siberian shamans ride on reindeer sleighs through the air, up to the clouds. The world tree is their goal; this is where the magic reindeer are. The Siberian Tschutschuken say that the moon is a man on a sleigh that is pulled by two reindeer to Earth and can fly back up to the Upperworld like the modern Father Christmas figure. The Celtic tradition also revolves around the world tree, the source of wisdom.
The association of reindeer and shamanism is seen in the caves of the Ardèche, where wall paintings of reindeer, some thirty thousand years old, show our connection. As early as the Old Stone Age, reindeer were sunk in moors as sacrificial offerings – for example, in the Hamburg steppe of Meiendorf and Stellmoor and in Magdalénien (Pohlhausen 1953). This is the ritual context of cultic poles or stakes crowned with anthropomorphic mushrooms with dwarf caps. Sometimes, even reindeer skulls were placed on top of such sacrificial stakes. These often-neglected details show our association of reindeer with the mushrooms.
Yurt burried in snow
Down the Chimney …
Many shamanic peoples are nomads and live in portable homes such as yurts supported by a large beam of wood which stretches up to the smoke hole. At the Midwinter Festival, the Shaman wanting to enter a yurt buried in the snow would find the smoke-hole the only way in!
Siberian yurts have a roof supported by a birch pole with a smoke hole at the top. At the midwinter festivals of annual renewal, the shaman gathers the fly agaric from under sacred trees. Whilst harvesting the toadstools, she or he wears a costume of red and white fur-trimmed coat with long black boots – so carrying the colours of all three cups. This costume is very like the modern day Santa Claus. She or he then enters the yurt through the smoke hole, carrying a sack full of dried fly agaric, and descends the birch pole to the floor. Once inside, the shaman performs ceremonies and shares out the toadstool’s gifts with those gathered inside. After the ceremony is over the shaman leaves up the pole and back through the smoke hole.
Saint Nicholas is a legendary figure who supposedly lived during the 4th Century and known as the patron saint of children. He is said to brings presents on the eve of his feast day, 6th December – somewhat earlier than the solstice!
Most religious historians now agree that St Nicholas never actually existed, but was instead a Christianized amalgam of the historical bishops, Nicholas of Myra (4th Century) and Nicholas of Sion (d. 564) together with a number of pagan gods including the Teutonic god, Hold Nickar. Legend tells that Hold Nickar galloped through the sky during the winter solstice, granting favours to his worshippers below.
St Nicholas is associated with a number of miracles and stories to do with giving presents which integrate him into the legend of Santa Claus:
Green Man – Lord of the Forest
Bringing the forest into the home – like many of Christmas traditions – has its roots in the days when we all were pagans. At the solstice it’s traditional to bring armfuls of greenery into the home; put fir trees in a bucket and decorate them with baubles; hang holly and ivy over mantelpieces and picture frames, and mistletoe over doorways.
Note again that triplicity of colours – red holly berries, black ivy berries and white mistletoe, carrying the energy of the 3 Cups in a different way but always reminding us of our tradition, symbols of eternal life and renewal.
Dr Brian Bates, senior lecturer in psychology and director of the shaman research programme at Sussex University (author of the Way of Wyrd), said: “In the early tribal cultures of Europe there were huge midwinter parties, involving an entire tribal group, with a shaman taking centre stage wearing a crown of holly and ivy, representing the eternal life of ‘evergreen’ nature.” The Druids gathered mistletoe and hung it in their homes because of its miraculous powers. Even carol singing had its precursors in shamanic festivals. If you listen to the words and stories of the old carols you see the old myths carried forward in them. A myth is not a made up story, by the way, but a word for “belief system”. En-chanting, singing up the gods and goddess, is as hold as human voices. Older perhaps, I’m thinking of wolves howling here but some of you may find that too much to handle.
However, you celebrate the solstice do think of the ancient ways of humanity, where we have all come from. The old ways that celebrate the realities of the turning Earth, the patterns and rhythms of the Sun which enables Life, the seasons that give us food, beauty, challenge and delight. Whatever modern religion you currently profess, spend a moment with the Old Ones, who are the ancestors of us all. That way, we really do bring love and peace and understanding across the whole world.
December is the time coming up to the solstice which is a time most folk celebrate. At last after each day getting darker and darker, the sun turns about and the days begin to get longer again in the temperate latitudes. Part of the celebrations usually include a feast … and that means vegetables as well as your meat (if you eat it), so we need to care for and harvest the veg we’re going to eat.
This year, in Britain, we have heavy snow and extreme cold, like minus 12, 15 or 20 in the countryside, even the towns are rarely rising above freezing during the day. This makes life very difficult for harvesting. Winter vegetables are often very good at “standing”, i.e. remaining in the ground until you want to eat them, but getting them out when the ground is frozen is a whole other matter. Things like leeks, which are stems or rather leaves which have changed their form quite a lot so they all bind together into the familiar shape we know, are mostly water, and water freezes. Tugging at a frozen leek in the frozen ground means you break off a green icicle more often than not.
Here, we don’t have too much of a problem because we have cultivated and pampered the soil with tons (literally) of organic matter over the past ten years. In consequence the ground doesn’t freeze so solid, or rather it takes longer and lower temperatures to make it do so, so we can dig our leeks still, and our beetroots, swedes, turnips, parsnips, the root veg that make such delicacies at midwinter feasts. You can’t actually do much about improving your soil in this kind of weather – although mulches will help to some extent, but you can think about how you’ll change things in the coming year.
And you can look after the veg you have.
Brussels sprouts are famous for this time of year. If you like them, then picking them correctly will help the plants do well. Start by picking the sprouts at the bottom first and working up the stem. And don’t forget to firm them in regularly, each time you pick firm in the roots with your heel. The plants must have their roots in good contact with the soil all the time, particularly in the freezing weather. If they are not then not only with the roots freeze but, if they survive that they won’t be able to get water and nutrients unless the roots touch the earth. The contact enables the transference of food and water.
The same goes for the winter cabbages and sproutings. Make sure they are securely “seated” in the ground.
As you firm you can also make sure you take out any weeds that have survived too. You do this when you pull leeks, swedes, turnips, beets – any root veg that you’re going to pull out of the ground. The pulling naturally disturbs the soil so the weeds will come too. Don’t leave them lying about but put them into the compost straight away.
In the bad weather the birds will need food too and won’t be able to get it easily as they can when it’s milder. Your crops are there, available, they will want to eat them.
I always share with the creatures who live on the land with me. It’s something we all need to re-learn to do. But I also want the veg to eat for myself, it’s part of my livelihood. Like planting a couple of spare cabbages for the butterflies to lay their eggs on, I always have some spare crops in winter for the birds. And I also feed them seeds and nuts and scraps, make fat balls and fatty crumbs from the last of the bread and the fat from my bacon and sausages. But I also want to eat those veg so I protect them from devastation from the hungry birds. Netting the cabbage family from the pigeons is a good idea. It’s simple enough to do, canes driven into the ground with old plastic bottles on their tops will hold up some simple netting. Tie the netting to the canes with the ties from freezer bags and such – recycling really works.
The polytunnel is another good place and may be enough to keep the frosts off the plants – it’s too cold for that here without heating which we don’t have so our stuff has to come into the scullery, where it doesn’t go below freezing – at least inside. Fleece is good too and can help to make a micro-climate for the plants.
If you got overwintering peas and beans in before the snows came I hope you also covered them with fleece or they won’t have made it. If you didn’t then don’t try until after the snows have gone and the soil warmed a bit.
A good mulching of manure and/or compost covered with black membrane, once you can see the soil again from under the snow, will help to warm the soil earlier than leaving it alone. You’ll be able to sow a month earlier than if you didn’t make the effort so plan for it now. Make sure you have the compost ready, and the manure, and the covering. And plan your sowings so you know which beds need to be got going first. It’s a great way to spend some of the time over the midwinter celebrations, doing some planning for the year to come.
Snow! Lots of it. The garden and the pond are frozen over and all the soil life is well underground. It’s not sleeping but working like crazy, like a bunch of cave-dwelling gnomes making their jewels and fine thread-work of root connections ready for the spring opening.
However, it does mean I’m not doing a massive amount out there, in fact just harvesting some of the veg like leeks and beetroots is hard because the ground is frozen. It also means that planting the rowan tree as I’d intended is not even a starter, no holes get dug without a machine! And, in any case, the plants wouldn’t survive if I transplanted them now.
That happened for the strawberries, they must stay in pots until the ground warms up again, there was no way I could plant them in the outdoor tubs – couldn’t move the soil and the plants would have died. They’re sitting, a bit forlornly, in the far end of the kitchen as this is warm enough but not overly hot, being north-facing, so I’m hoping they’ll be OK, but I am going to get another dozen as some of them were less than content with being heeled in to the pots. I’ve now transplanted all the survivors into good earth and good pots so they should be OK … but you can NEVER have too many strawberries *g*.
I brought in the last bag of potatoes to the scullery when the snow and frosts began 10 days ago. I grew potatoes in those grow-bag-thingies they’ve been advertising recently. Not a bad crop but not as many as I would have got in the ground which is actually good as I don’t eat that many spuds. We have a nice crop for the Midwinter and Sun-Return feasts though, and on to 12th Night feast. Also, the earth is now in the scullery, thawed out and useable for potting and seed-sowing.
And that’s the next job, sitting like Persephone sorting seeds. Then planning out the sowing. The polytunnel is far too cold to use! All the sowing will have to be indoors, in the propagator and on window ledges and that mean moving Paul off the kitchen table where he’s rebuilding and doing up the household computers (excellent stuff!) but I want to use it for sowing. I foresee a slight “domestic” happening here LOL.
I collect the inners of toilet rolls for sowing, they work very well as individual root-trainer plugs that can be planted directly into the ground because they will rot and disintegrate nicely around the roots without disturbing the young plant. And it’s an excellent way of recycling. I think I may have to hunt around for more containers though. The plastic tub-things you get tomatoes and mushrooms and such from the supermarket are good for this … as long as they don’t have holes in them! We ate all our tomatoes that are not in the freezer a while back so are buying some again now as I have this penchant for salad, always do coming up to Midwinter, not sure why I’m so out of season on this!
I’ll be sitting down with the seed box over the next week, making my sowing plans and getting all the stuff together to begin. I find that once the sun has returned – after the winter solstice standstill from 21-24 Dec – germination is feasible again, provided they also have warmth and moisture. The three necessities for germination … warmth, moisture and light. The seeds really do know that the light is increasing even if it still gets dark at 4pm here. How my friends further north find it with a bare four hours of daylight each day by midwinter must be hard. I love seasons and the change from dark to light to dark and back but I’m not sure I could cope with so very little light each day as they get in Scotland, let alone further north. Likely I live in the right latitude for me *g*. I must go up to Scotland for midsummer one year though, my friends up there have near 24 hours of daylight and can certainly see to read a book at 1am without any artificial light. Yes, worth experiencing.
But to get back to the seeds, germination is feasible after sun-return on 25th Dec, so I shall aim to get going then. It makes the first couple of weeks after sun-return very hectic as we always stir 500 every day for the 12 Nights to 6th Jan. That means 2 hours a day are devoted to stirring for 12 days and, on the last day, we also stir the 3 Kings prep – gold, frankincense and myrrh. More about this next time but, briefly, we do it for the 12 days as 1 day for each of the 12 months of the year. It works very well, helps the soil and roots to begin their growing change after the solstice.
I always feel so excited as we come closer to the solstice. Each day there is less and less light as we approach the shortest day then, on Midwinter’s Eve (20th Dec) we have a big feast to celebrate the beginning of the solstice. It’s also Paul’s birthday – he’s my Midwinter King – so there’s a double celebration. You really feel the difference as the change begins and there’s the holding-of-breath as the stillness happens, then the surge as the sun appears to move forward again on the 25th Dec. It’s amazing if you can do some of this at one of the old places. I’ve been with friends to Stonehenge for the solstice and sun-return, the surge there is phenomenal, but it’s pretty good here in the garden too. The Earth knows we work with her and enjoys celebrating with us as she cycles back into the light and growth again after the dark-time of working with the soil.
One of the festivals we know with certainty was celebrated back into pre-history, is the summer solstice. There are ancient sites that align with it, indicating that it was important to our ancestors. However, we don’t really know how they celebrated it. So, how can a modern pagan approach this festival?
You might choose to experience the short night, watching the sun down, and being present to see it rise, greeting the dawn of the longest day. I’ve done this a few times on hilltops, and was once blessed with a fabulous full moon setting as well. I’ve been rained on, and I’ve seen baby badgers. It’s my favourite way of honouring this time of year, when weather and energy levels permit. Watching the landscape emerge out of darkness as the sun comes up is truly magical.
Some people rise to greet the dawn. I’ve been at Stonehenge for dawn gatherings, watching mist across the Salisbury plain.
For others, the focal point of the day comes when the sun is at its highest – which makes a lot of sense really. My main reason not for celebrating this point in the day is that I am very prone to heatstroke and mostly hide!
I don’t know why drumming is so popular for the summer solstice. I suppose all the banging gets people’s hearts racing, but it doesn’t do it for me. I’d rather be able to hear the birds. A sunrise untroubled by people is a slow, quiet thing, and very impressive. I think we know it’ll come back even without us making a racket.
Drink to the sun with golden mead, celebrate with sunflower seeds, honour it with songs at midday, or quiet meditations as it sinks finally into the west. There’s no one right way. But be there. Know that it is happening, feel the changing sun tides as we tilt towards the darker half of the year. Take a moment to look at the sky (but not directly at the sun) to feel it on your skin, to know that your life depends upon it. Wherever you are, however you celebrate, know that across the globe, many other pagans are with you, honouring the solstice. We are part of something much bigger than ourselves.
This weekend saw the beginning of summer. It was a beautiful day in spite of thunderstorms and flash flood warnings for two days leading up to the big event. Having gotten away from Solstice celebrations, I had asked for information concerning anything for Summer Solstice and the responses I got verified the information I was able to Google. Bonfires and witnessing the sunrise were mostly what were done.
So, a friend and myself, set ourselves up with wood (drying out from the rain), Tiki lights, Rum, Coke, chips, salsa and of course we had to throw in a few ears of corn too, for a night of easy companionship, stargazing and (not too unexpected) curious neighbors. We waited until about an hour before sundown to light the fire and between the two of us, finally got it to stay lit.
Let me tell you, it was hilarious about the fire. I used straw twists, twigs and dry limbs to get it started. Then I added larger pieces of wood (one of which was soaked in old gasoline). All the kindling burned fantastic and even the gasoline soaked log caught after about five minutes of being in the fire pit. No luck, the fire died back out (the gasoline burned off and that was it). So, being the impatient sort, my friend took a couple of logs and dribbled Tiki oil on them as she was filling the lamps, gathered up lots more kindling and got it going again. Out it went. Oh, we had a nice ember base; the logs were still too wet from the rain. Finally, she stood over the fire with her hat and fanned it like there was no tomorrow, and packed in the kindling again. SUCCESS!
Now to settle down and enjoy our night of enjoying each other’s company, right? RIGHT! Even with neighbors who normally went to bed early, staying up late too. For a long time, just as we were settling into a rhythm of talking, singing, and laughing, one of them would turn on their outside light and come out. This would set off another fit of laughter and fresh comments about how it was okay for them to go to bed as there was nothing going on for them to see. It seemed hours before they all settled in for the night. Finally, when the last one turned out their lights, we started really enjoying our time together.
We spent hours singing, her dancing, with me laughing as she danced with a Tiki light, and finally settled down into talking about our past – the disappointing relationships, the lessons we learned and the growth we made because of them, where we are now and what we would and would no longer do concerning relationships. Add in several rum and cokes plus a variety of music and we were feeling great.
Finally, she remembered the corn and set it to soaking and much later still, we remembered to put them on the fire. Yes, I said fire. It seemed no matter where we moved the ears to; the fire would follow shortly behind. We even added water to keep the flames down to no avail. The fire that took so long to start, now did not wish to simmer lol. Therefore, we ended up with ears of corn with their shucks burned to a crisp on partially cooked corn on the cob, and two very tired women.
Giving up the idea of staying up until sunrise, we moved the logs apart, unplugged the radio, gathered what we could remember, and went to bed. Sunday morning, not only did we wake up to hangovers but to the logs still smoldering, not showing any sign of stopping until it rained. LOL
The main thing is we had fun. We learned a little more about each other as we always do when we get together and we didn’t let the neighbors ruin it for us. This, more than anything else, confirmed to me how far I have come. How in just a few years time, I have gone from being a person who was so afraid of insulting or upsetting someone, to becoming a woman who could enjoy herself in spite of prying eyes.