Growing Closer

by OMS Patriarch
Sybok Pendderwydd

Every summer
I listen and look
under the sun’s brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can’t hear
anything, I can’t see anything —
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling
up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,
nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,
the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker —

green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.
And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing —
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,
the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet —
all of it
happening
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt
swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?
One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn’s beautiful body
is sure to be there.

~~ Mary Oliver ~~
(West Wind)

(Editor’s Note: Although Gwydion Pendderwen is no longer with us in the Earth Realm, his fame as one of the first recorded Pagan song writers lives on…and it is
at this time of year that I like to listen to this masterpiece of his, in dedication of Lugh…)

Lugh the light of summer bright clothed all in green
Tailtiu his mother true rise up and be seen

Chorus:
At the festival sound the horn, calling the people again
Child of Barleycorn, newly summerborn, ripening like the grain

The child grew tall from spring to fall he’s off to find a wife
But Balor came to make his claim and swore to take his life

Chorus:
At the festival sound the horn, calling the people again
Child of Barleycorn, newly summerborn, ripening like the grain

The two did fight from noon ’till night when Lugh did strike
him one
And Balor’s eye flew in the sky and there became the sun

Chorus:
At the festival sound the horn, calling the people again
Child of Barleycorn, newly summerborn, ripening like the grain

Lugh was wed and made his bed with Erin in the north
And there they lay for many a day and soon a child came forth

Chorus:
At the festival sound the horn, calling the people again
Child of Barleycorn, newly summerborn, ripening like the grain

The child grew tall from spring to fall, Setanta was his name
And then at length by honor’s strength CuChulainn he became

Chorus:
At the festival sound the horn, calling the people again
Child of Barleycorn, newly summerborn, ripening like the grain

For more on Gwydion and the Pagan Music Movement, read this

With Lughnasadh fast approaching, it seems a good time to talk about the so-called “sun god” who has so many aspects that he is known as Samildanach or Master
of Every Art. Surely his multifaceted nature shines but is
Lugh Lamfhota truly a sun god? From what I know of him, his light is more like the flashing of a spear, like summer lightning, swift and brilliant and to the point. His nickname “long armed” goes more with a strike of lightning than with sunbeams. Was Lugh a sun god before he evolved into his multi-tasking form or is the sun god guise a Neopagan development? He is likened to other gods, notably Mercury and Odin, putting him in a more mercurial than solar class.

~~ Fenian Niafer ~~

Ere, in the northern gale,
The summer tresses of the trees are gone,
The woods of Autumn, all around our vale,
Have put their glory on.

~~ WilliamCullen Bryant ~~
(Autumn Woods)

“The Dog-Days (3 July to 11 August) when Sirius rises with the Sun are known as iuchar – or the worm-month – in Scots Gaelic tradition.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

Autumn is a second season when every leaf is a flower.

~~ Albert Camus ~~

“When Lugh and the Tuatha de Danann were victorious over the Fomonians, they captured the Fomorian king, Bres, and promised to spare his life if he granted his gifts of agriculture to them. First Bres offered a continual supply of milk, then a harvest in each season: these gifts were rejected because they broke the natural order of things. The Tuatha de Danann replied:

This has been our way:
Spring for ploughing and sowing;
Summer for strengthening
And encouraging of the grain;
Autumn for ripening the corn and reaping it;
Winter for enjoying it.

But they accepted his advice on ploughing, sowing and reaping, and so it is that the blessing of ‘corn and milk in your land and mast in your woods and increase in your soil’ is maintained to this day.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

Heat and cold chase one another like pups playing
—
yesterday ovenish, today cold storage.
Oh, perfect in the
pauses when the wind forgets and the sun remembers!

~~ Emily Carr ~~

“In the Gaulish Calendrical Tablet – the Coligny Calenday – the month of July-August was called Elembiuos, or ‘Claim-time’; during the period leading
up to Lugnasadh, any unfulfilled obligations were claimed or concluded among neighbors, with legal recourse to the brehon or judge if friendly requital were not forthcoming.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

Corn wind in the fall, come off the black lands,
come off the whisper of the silk hangers,
the lap of the flat spear leaves.

~~ Carl Sandburg ~~

“Neldoracht was a Druidic method of divination, often involving cloud-watching or star-gazing. We know that this method was used in the creation of the Coligny Calendar, since each night is annotated with remarks about the clarity or cloudiness of the heavens and the subsequent omens which accompany each day.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

She calls it “stick season,” this
slow disrobing of summer, leaf by leaf,
till the bores of tall
trees rattle and scrape in the wind.

~~ Eric Pinder ~~

“The qualifications to enter Fionn mac Cumhail’s Fianna were exacting: good birth, poetic proficiency, the ability to run through the woods with no hair unbraided and no twig snapped, and the ability to pull a thorn from a
foot and not slacken your pace while running were included.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly
changes
from the summer cottons into its winter wools.

~~ Henry Beston ~~
( Northern Farm)

“Cranncur, or ‘casting the woods’ was a Druidic method of divination for judgments, which was adapted to Christian use: three lots were placed in a vessel – one for guilt, one for innocence, and one for the Trinity. The
Druid Morann mac Maine used three stones to determine guilt: a black stone for falsehood, a white stone for truth, and a speckled stone for half-guilt. In each case, the accused party had to draw out one lot or stone.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

It was Indian summer, a bluebird sort of day as we call it
in the north, warm and sunny,
without a breath of wind; the
water was sky-blue, the shores a bank of solid gold.

~~ Sigurd F. Olson ~~

“Angus Og, son of the Dagda and Boann, is the Irish God of Love, around whose head four birds forever fluttered – representing his kisses. He himself fell in love with Caer Ibormeith, who appeared to him in a dream, and his long pursuit of her became the epitome of all lovers’ quests. He was the foster-father of Diarmuid O’Duibhne, lover of Grania, and transported his body to Brugh na Boyne – Newgrange – after his death, where he was able to breath his soul back into his body.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

“In the Gaulish Calendrical Tablet, the Coligny Calendar,
the month of August-September was called Edrinios, or ‘arbitration
time’, since the period after harvest was a suitable
time of assembly when disputes could be legally settled satisfactorily.”

~~ From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews ~~

The Goddess Habondia

Many neo-Pagans give praise at Lammastide to Habondia, the
generous one, the Goddess of the Harvest, for the abundance
and prosperity that she brings. At Lammas she is seen in her
pregnant and birthing aspects as she ripens and swells with
the life that she now brings forth, and the earth reflects
this growing fruitfulness. The Great Mother is seen as having
moved through the seasons from the promise of new life in February
(Imbolc) to the fulfilment of that promise with the harvest
beginning in August.

“The Celts traditionally made offerings and prayers at wells – a custom which continues to this day, especially at those wells which have healing properties. ‘Clooties’, or strips of cloth, are dipped in the well, prayed over and hung in the thorn tree which invariably grows over the well – there
to hang and fade until the prayer, blessing or healing is achieved. All ‘wishing wells’ started life as primary accesses of healing power. The Struthill Well in Scotland is remembered in this wishing spell – a remnant of earlier incantations:

Three white stones,
And three black pins,
Three yellow gowans (daisies)
Off the green.
Into the well
With a one, two, three,
And a fortune, a fortune
Come to me.”

~~Ed Montgomery ~~
( From The Celtic Book of Days by Caitlin Matthews)

Lothian, Scotland: Before Lammas, Lothian cow-boys, (as ‘cowboys’ used to be spelt in Britain) used to build a tower of stones and sods in a conspicuous place. On Lammas morning they assembled there, bearing flags and blowing cow horns. They breakfasted on bread and cheese, then had a procession and foot races. Each group would try to demolish the tower of a neighbouring group and sometimes bloody fights would ensue.

It was on a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonie,
Beneath the moon’s unclouded light,
I held away to Annie:
The time flew by, wi tentless heed,
Till ‘tween the late and early;
Wi’ sma’ persuasion she agreed
To see me thro’ the barley.

Corn rigs, an’ barley rigs,
An’ corn rigs are bonnie:
I’ll ne’er forget that happy night,
Among the rigs wi’ Annie.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi’ right good will,
Amang the rigs o’barley
I ken’t her heart was a’ my ain;
I lov’d her most sincerely;
I kissed her owre and owre again,
Among the rig o’ barley.

Corn rigs, an’ barley rigs,
An’ corn rigs are bonnie:
I’ll ne’er forget that happy night,
Among the rigs wi’ Annie.

I locked her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely:
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o’barley.
But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She ay shall bless that happy night,
Amang the rigs o’barley.

Cornrigs, an’ barley rigs,
An’ corn rigs are bonnie:
I’ll ne’er forget that happy night,
Among the rigs wi’ Annie.

I hae been blythe wi’ Comrades dear;
I hae been merry drinking;
I hae been joyfu’ gath’rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking:
But a’ the pleasures e’er I saw,
Tho three times doubl’d fairley
That happy night was worth then a’.
Among the rig’s o’ barley.

Corn rigs, an’ barley rigs,
An’ corn rigs are bonnie:
I’ll ne’er forget that happy night,
Among the rigs wi’ Annie.

~~ Robert Burns ~~

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From Wilson’s Almanac

Old Lammas Day – August 12 – Scotland

In old Scotland, today was the day for handfast (or hand-in-fist) marriages,
in which men and women could choose the person with whom they would live for a year. If the year worked out well, they could stay together; if it didn’t, they were free to make another choice. Handfasting is a common ceremony among Neopagan adherents today, not necessarily with the same connotations, as it might sometimes refer to an intended lifetime marriage.

Celtic Handfasting Ritual

Bride and Groom repeat the following together:

“You cannot possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish
it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand. I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night, and the eyes into which I smile in the morning. I pledge to you the first bite from my meat and the first drink from my cup. I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care. I shall be a shield for your back, and you for mine. I shall not slander you, nor you me. I shall honor you above all others, and when we quarrel, we shall do so in private and tell no strangers our grievances.
This is my wedding vow to you. This is the marriage of equals.”

The Priest or Priestess says:

“These promises you make by the sun and the moon, by fire and water,
by day and night, by land and sea. With these vows you
swear, by the God and Goddess, to be full partners, each to
the other. If one drops the load, the other will pick it up.
If one is a discredit to the other, his own honor will be forfeit,
generation upon generation, until he repairs that which was
damaged and finds that which was lost. Should you fail to keep
the oath you pledge today, the elements themselves will reach
out and destroy you.”

~~ From Finn MacCool by Morgan Llywelyn ~~

Ladybird prognostication

Folklorist Charles Kightly (Perpetual Almanack of Folklore,
Thames and Hudson, 1987) says that Lammas is a time at which
spirits walk abroad, and hence a good time to divine the future.

He says that to learn the whereabouts of your lover’s home,
take a ladybird and address her thus before releasing her:

Lady, Lady, Lanners [Lammas? – PW]
Tak your cloak about your heid
And fly away to Flanders
Fly ower moor and fly ower mead
Fly ower living, fly ower dead
Fly ye east or fly ye west
Fly to her that loves me best.

From
Wilson’s Almanac

A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was
treated to the
crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I
made.
The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds,

no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air.

~~ Eric Sloane ~~

This is an old Celtic name for the Perseids, the most familiar of all meteor showers, that take place at around the time called Lughnasadh by the Pagans and Lammas by their Christian successors – around August 1. The Perseids have been well documented since at least 830 CE but were surely well known long before. We can well imagine ancient Celts looking upon these wonders and associating them with other phenomena of the season between the Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, including the heat of the last of the Dog Days. They attributed the celestial display of Perseid lights to games being played by their sun god, Lugh, ‘the shining one’.

As is well known, most ancient cultures looked on meteor showers and other phenomena in the sky as having supernatural meaning.
In pre-Zoroastrian India, the Perseids were the Pairikas, the prototypes of the Peris, the nymphs or female angels of later Persian tradition, and likewise the Parigs or witches of Manichaeism. The Pairikas, in the form of worm-stars, are said to fly between the earth and the heavens at this time. These ‘shooting stars’ fall annually at about the time when Tistrya (Sirius) is supposed to be most active.

The remarkable annual appearance of the Perseids might explain why the ancient Egyptian Lychnapsia (‘Festival of Lights’, or ‘The Lights of Isis’) at this time of year was revered in the Osirian mysteries. In Arab folklore,
shooting stars are traditionally said to be firebrands hurled by the angels against the inquisitive Jinns or Genii, who are forever clambering up on the constellations to peep into heaven.

“Thomas Furley Forster of London had recorded it in 1827 in his Pocket Encyclopaedia of Natural Phenomena. ‘According to Mr. T. Forster,’ Herrick reported in October 1839,citing Quetelet, ‘a superstition has “for ages” existed among the Catholics of some parts of England and Germany that
the burning tears of St. Lawrence are seen in the sky on the night of the 10th of August; this day being the anniversary of his martyrdom.’”

Discovery of the Perseids

Many years ago, a phone call came into New York’s Hayden Planetarium. The caller sounded concerned about a radio announcement of an upcoming Perseid display and wanted to know if it would be dangerous to stay outdoors on the night of the peak of the shower (perhaps assuming there was a danger of getting hit). These meteoroids, however, are no bigger than
sand grains or pebbles, have the consistency of cigar ash and are consumed many miles above our heads.

The caller was passed along to the Planetarium’s chief
astronomer, who commented that there are only two dangers from
Perseid watching: getting drenched with dew and falling asleep.

~~ Source Unknown ~~

Lughgnasadh

With last years harvest near run out,
and this years harvest not yet in,
we stand,
betwixt and between.
The field is full,
yet the cauldron is empty.

And on the final day,
of summer’s wait,
stomachs empty,
but hearts full,
we climb the highest mountain
to look out at the fields.

The earth is full and beautiful,
her newborn resting on her belly
still connected for one final day
before the scythe severs the cord
to this year’s bounty.

Golden wheat,
beneath a golden sun,
the child in the field
mirrors the radiance
of the father’s crown.

Lammas

Bright blessings fall,
like rain on dark fertile earth,
like stars on an August night,
like apples, ripe and ready, from the orchard.

Good luck,
good fortune,
good karma,
bright and particular,
gather it in
as it comes to you.

Seed to wheat,
wheat to mill,
mill to bread,
bread to hearth,
hearth to belly,
belly to heart,
heart to god.

I wish for us all,
that we are in the right place,
at the right time,
on the right path,
and that our bread lands ever butter side up.

Harvest

Keep the good harvest,
but take all the hurts
of the year past
and toss them out.
In their own little corner,
in their own little spot,
let them quietly rot,
until they are part of the earth once more.

Instead of pressing them in to a bitter winter whine,
leave them to be pecked at by passing birds,
for their pleasure.

The earth will take it all in,
transforming the fallen
back in to fertile ground.

© 2001 Claudia Chapman All Rights Reserved

A link to my blog page: http://inthedeepmidwinter.blogspot.com/

A link to my book, which is available through REVELS:
http://store.revels.org/winterbookthesongschantsandstoriesoftheyuletideseason.aspx

Lughnasadh marks the first of the three harvests: the Grain
Harvest of Lughnasadh, the Harvest of Fruits at Mabon, and
the Harvest of Game at Samhain. Ancient peoples celebrated
Lughnasadh as a time of great happiness, enjoying the gifts
of the earth. Yet the harvest also began the waning half of
the year, when it became time to stock up for winter. Our ancestors
put aside the abundance from the seasons of growth to see them
through the barren times ahead, making the harvest a time of
self-sacrifice as well as bounty.

Taking a modern psychological view in this age of plenty,
we can view this time of year as a period of purification,
mourning, and austerity. In the Pagan and Wiccan belief system,
we liken it to the dying of the God. When we harvest the grain
we harvest his body. We shed his blood when we harvest the
fruit, and we make a life-giving sacrifice when we harvest
game. On an internal level, we reenact the symbolism of rebirth
and reincarnation. We shed unnecessary things and turn the
Wheel of our souls so that we can progress and evolve.

During the waning half of the year, we seek the labyrinth
of inner-world journeys. Even as the God descends into the
Underworld where he will rule until he is reborn to the Mother
at Yule, we undergo introspection and transformation in our
own lives. One way to experience this journey is through use
of the tarot.

A Tarot Ritual for Change

To begin, set up your altar with a black cloth. Place an ear
of corn on the left side, a beeswax taper candle in the center,
and a chalice of wine or grape juice on the right side. If
you like, cast a Circle. From your favorite tarot deck, remove
these cards: the Hanged Man, the Empress, the World, the Three
of Cups, and the Two of Pentacles. Settle yourself in front
of your altar and light the candle. Take three breaths, slowly
exhale, and place the Empress face up in the center of the
altar. Focus on the energy of the protective Earth Mother.
See a sphere of brilliant green-earth energy surrounding you
and comforting you.

Continue meditating as you cover the Empress with the Three of Cups.
Visualize all that is good and abundant in your life
and give thanks. Think of what you have harvested in this year,
what projects you have completed, and what rewards you have
gathered. Enjoy the feeling and be proud of your achievements.
Then, place the Two of Pentacles atop the Three of Cups. Imagine
the cycle changing, and accept that life is ever-moving and
that there is always more to do. Think about the things you’ve
accumulated—ideas, concepts, beliefs, and material goods—that
might get in your way as you shift into a new cycle.

At this point, place the Hanged Man over the Two of Pentacles.
Envision yourself making the sacrifices necessary to open the
doorway for change. Imagine what you need to remove from your
life—faltering friendships and relationships, old goals
that are no longer applicable. See yourself now, making changes
and creating a space for new experiences and people to enter
your life. Know that if you have the courage to make room,
positive change will come.

Lastly, place the World atop the Hanged Man. Feel the Wheel
turning, and feel the Universe responding to your call. Know
that serendipity will fill your life as you let go of outworn
and outdated concepts and ideas. By surfing the crest of the
Universe, you flow with the current of change rather than attempt
to ride against it. Now pick up the chalice of wine or juice
and toast yourself, this holiday, and the spirit of change.
For only by embracing the void can we hope to attract new experience.

A Spread for Taking Stock

For this spread turn each card over in turn as you concentrate on the question: What should I be focusing on in this aspect of my life?

Card 1: Intellect
Card 2: Career
Card 3: Physical environment
Card 4: Magic
Card 5: Spirituality
Card 6: Health
Card 7: Emotions
Card 8: Sexuality
Card 9: Fate and what you can’t control

~~ From Llewellyn’s 2001 Tarot Calendar ~~

Psychic energy is all around us. It is the “sixth sense” people
have when a loved one is in trouble. It is picking up the phone
to call or text a friend, just as they are writing you. Everyone
has psychic ability, but not everyone knows how to use it.
Astrologically, some signs are more in tune with their intuitive
gifts.

Fire Signs

Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius need action. Their psychic ability is
often unconscious – they will first do something without thinking. Getting right into the action will “feel” right. By following their heart, a Fire Sign taps their psychic power.

If you are an Aries: Trust your first impulses and you will not go wrong. Aries is all about action, but can have prophetic dreams, often from early childhood. If you choose to focus your considerable energy on the psychic realm, you can become a skillful pioneer of the unseen worlds.

If you are a Leo: You need to shine and can miss or misinterpret
psychic messages if you make it “all about me.” For
Leo to tap into their psychic power they must take a lesson
in humility. True intuitive wisdom lies in being both joyful
and unselfishly generous. Psychic power comes when you are
one with the world.

If you are a Sagittarius: Outgoing Sag has a powerful psychic
radar, especially about people they love. If you are thinking
about someone, most likely they are thinking about you at the
same time, so get in touch! Down-to-earth friends can help
you sort out real psychic wisdom from lies.

Earth Signs

Earth signs are as psychic as anyone else, but more likely to deny or doubt their intuitive insights. Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn all have a very practical, no-nonsense approach to life. They tend to be “what you see is what you get” people. It is important for them to trust and value their inner voice.

If you are a Taurus: Tap your psychic power when you are calm
and relaxed. A garden or country setting can give you all sorts
of intuitive insights. More than any other sign, you share
a deep bond with the spirits of the Earth well known to Native
Americans.

If you are a Virgo: It is vital to surrender worries and stop
thinking too much. Virgo’s analytical nature tends to clutter
up the psychic flow with unnecessary concerns. An attitude
of trust goes a long way to opening the door to spiritual wisdom.

If you are a Capricorn: Your tendency is to be “all business” and
rely on what you can see with your ordinary senses. If you
think psychic wisdom is “airy fairy,” you can close
the door to knowledge that is as true as what you see and hear.
Be open to the possibility there is psychic power.

Air Signs

Air Signs Gemini, Libra, and Aquarius are the communicators
of the Zodiac. These highly social individuals sometimes
forget to listen, and can lose track of their deep wisdom.
The more an Air Sign slows down and pays attention, the
easier it will be to understand the psychic energy
that surrounds them.

If you are a Gemini: Your wonderfully open nature makes you
curious and ready to learn new things. You are very likely
to have psychic connections with siblings. This is a good place
to start developing your psychic talents. You are likely to
be quite good at Tarot, but be cautious about using Ouija boards.

If you are a Libra: You are likely more psychic than you realize.
Your ability to adapt yourself to please others is closely
associated with your natural intuitive wisdom. Psychic messages
are most likely to appear when you are in a peaceful and beautiful
environment – include candles, flowers, and soft music.

If you are an Aquarius: You have enjoyed your own particular
brand of psychic wisdom from a young age. You may not often
talk about it, but it is there, and strong, all the same. Meditation,
which helps you separate your thoughts from intuitive reality,
is a powerful tool for accessing your psychic skills.

Water Signs

Water Signs Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces are most in touch
with their feelings. Being a sensitive Water Sign seems
to make it easier to trust their own inner wisdom, but on the down
side they can get lost in negative emotional reactions.

If you are a Cancer: It may seem, because you can be quite
practical, that you are not intuitive. But sensitive Cancer
can walk into a room and understand how it feels on a psychic
level. You are naturally tuned in to what is happening to your
loved ones. Trust those feelings to grow your psychic power.

If you are a Scorpio: You live in a world of psychic phenomena,
not all of it positive. The attraction to psychic power is
strong and your life lesson is to use this energy constructively.
It is important to have a strong spiritual faith or guide to
best use your abundant natural talent in this area.

If you are a Pisces: You are the natural psychic of the Zodiac.
Like a fish in water, you sense the emotional and energetic
currents of your world, and everyone you meet. The big challenge
for you is to avoid letting negative or toxic energy overwhelm
you. If you guard your heart, you are a natural healer of the
highest order.

Article- Source Unknown
Images: http://www.josephinewall.co.uk/art_gallery.html

Lugh was known to the Celts as a god of craftsmanship and skill
— in fact, he was known as the Many-Skilled God, because
he was good at so many different things. In one legend, Lugh
arrives at Tara, and is denied entrance. He enumerates all
the great things he can do, and each time the guard says, “Sorry,
we’ve already got someone here who can do that.” Finally
Lugh asks, “Ah, but do you have anyone here who can
do them ALL?”

Take the opportunity this day to celebrate your own skills
and abilities, and make an offering to Lugh to honor him, the
god of craftsmanship.

Here’s How:

1. Before you begin, take a personal inventory. What are your strong points? Everyone has a talent — some have many, some have one that they’re really good at. Are you a poet or writer? Do you sing? How about needlecraft, woodworking, or beading? Can you tap dance? Do you cook? How about painting? Think about all the things you can do — and all of the things you’d like to learn to do, and the things you’d like to get better at. Once you sit down and think about it, you might be surprised to realize how accomplished you really are.

What You Need:
· A candle to represent Lugh
· Symbols of your skill or talent
· An offering of some sort

2. Decorate your altar with items related to your skill or talent. If your skill relates to something tangible, like sewing  or jewelry-making, put some of your craft supplies on the altar. If it’s an ability to DO, rather than MAKE, such as dancing or singing, put some symbol of your ability on your altar.
Do you have a favorite outfit you wear when you dance? A particular song lyric that you know you’re fabulous with? Add as many items as you like to your altar.

Tip: If you are performing this rite as part of a group, family or grove setting,
go around in a circle and have each person take their turn to express their
pride in their work, and to make their offerings to Lugh.

3. You’ll need a candle to symbolize Lugh, the god. Any harvest color is good, because he came up with the idea of a grain festival to honor his foster mother, Tailtiu. Place the candle on your altar in the center. Feel free to add some stalks of grain if you like — you can combine this rite with one honoring the harvest, if you choose.

4. Light the candle, and take a moment to think about all the things you are good at. What are they? Are you proud of your accomplishments? Now’s your chance to boast a little, and take some pride in what you’ve learned to do. Announce your own talents in the following incantation. Say:

Mighty Lugh, the many-skilled god,
he who is a patron of the arts,
a master of trades, and a silver-tongued bard.
Today I honor you, for I am skilled as well.
I am deft with a needle,
strong of voice,
and paint beauty with my brush strokes*

*Obviously, you would insert your pride in your own skills here.

5. Now, consider what you wish to improve upon. Is your tennis-playing
out of whack? Do you feel inadequate at bungee jumping, yodeling,
or drawing? Now’s the time to ask Lugh for his blessing. Say:

Lugh, many-skilled one,
I ask you to shine upon me.
Share your gifts with me,
and make me strong in skill.

6. At this time, you should make an offering of some sort. The ancients made offerings in exchange for the blessings of their gods — quite simply, petitioning a god was a reciprocal act, a system of exchange. Your offering can a tangible one: grain, fruit, wine, or even a sample of your skillwork —
imagine dedicating a song or painting to Lugh. It can also be an offering
of time or loyalty. Whatever it is, it should come from the heart.

7. Say:

I thank you, mighty Lugh, for hearing my words tonight.
I thank you for blessing me with the skills I have.
I make this offering of bread and wine* to you
as a small token of honor.

*Or whatever else you may be offering.

8. Take a few more moments and reflect on your own abilities. Do you have faith in your skills, or do you deflect compliments from others? Are you insecure about your abilities, or do you feel a surge of pride when you sew/dance/sing/hula-hoop? Meditate on your offering to Lugh for a few moments, and when you are ready, end the ritual.

Source: http://tinyurl.com/38wugwh

Doctor, you say that there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don’t see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.

Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: fixed
notions of top and bottom,

the illusion of three-dimensional space,
wisteria separate
from the bridge it covers.

What can I say to convince you
the Houses of Parliament dissolve
night after night to become
the fluid dream of the Thames?
I will not return to a universe
of objects that don’t know each other,
as if islands were not the lost children
of one great continent. The world

is flux, and light becomes what it touches,
becomes water, lilies on water,
above and below water,
becomes lilac and mauve and yellow
and white and cerulean lamps,
small fists passing sunlight
so quickly to one another
that it would take long, streaming hair
inside my brush to catch it.
To paint the speed of light!

Our weighted shapes, these verticals,
burn to mix with air
and changes our bones, skin, clothes
to gases. Doctor,
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.

~~ Lisel Mueller ~~
(Sixty Years of American Poetry, The Academy of American Poets)

Today we look at an ancient healing waters custom from Scotland that was practised annually on August, leading one to postulate (do you like that? “leading one to postulate”) that it was a Lughnasadh commemoration. Its rites contain actions that remind one not only of Celtic practices, but also the Christian sacrament of baptism.

Loch-mo-Naire, a lake in Strathnavon, Sutherlandshire, famous for its supposed miraculous healing qualities, was a site of pilgrimage for the lame, sick, impotent, and mentally ill. At midnight, these faithful unfortunates would gather on the shore of the loch to drink from its sanative waters, strip naked, and walk backwards into the loch. After immersing themselves three times, they would throw offerings of silver coins into the depths.

An old tradition informs us how the loch obtained its wondrous qualities and its name. Long, long ago, an old woman had somehow come to own some bright crystals, which, when placed in water, had miraculous powers of rendering the liquid an infallible cure for all “the ills to which flesh is heir”. As the fame of these wonder-working pebbles soon spread far and wide, it soon attracted the greed of a member of the neighbouring Gordon clan, who made up his mind to secure the miraculous crystals for the Gordons’ exclusive use.

To this end, Gordon feigned sickness, but the moment he presented himself to the crone, she divined his intention and fled. Escape, however, was impossible, because she was old and her pursuer had youth and swiftness on his side. Yet rather than surrender her charm-stones she threw them into the first lake to which she came, exclaiming, as she did, “Mo naire!”, meaning, “shame!” She then prophesied that the waters of Loch-mo-Naire would heal
all who dipped in them or drank of them, except for those who belonged to the accursed Gordon tribe. (No offence intended if you’re a Gordon!)

Writing in 1897, William S Walsh (Curiosities of Popular Customs and of Rites, Ceremonies, Observances, and Miscellaneous Antiquities,
JB Lippincott Company) tells us that the tale of the crone is evidently very much more recent than the superstition connected with the lake’s healing charms. Loch-mo-Naire does not, in fact, mean ‘the loch of shame’, but ‘the
serpent’s loch’, the word for serpent, nathair, being pronounced exactly in the same way was naire meaning ‘shame’. Walsh writes, “This manifestly points to the great archaeological fact that almost everywhere the serpent
is represented as the guardian of waters supposed to possess curative virtues. It is also the recognized emblem of Asclepius (Aesculapius), the
god of the healing art, who himself sometimes appeared in the form of a serpent.”

A WWW source local to Loch-mo-Naire asserts that the loch’s name derives from that of an ancient Celtic goddess and that the immersion rites continued there until the First World War.
(Tourists still visit and perform the rites, and perhaps a tourist is but a pilgrim with a digicam.)

From Wilson’s Almanac

Island where all becomes clear.

Solid ground beneath your feet.

The only roads are those that offer access.

Bushes bend beneath the weight of proofs.

The Tree of Valid Supposition grows here
with branches disentangled since time immemorial.

The Tree of Understanding, dazzlingly straight and simple,
sprouts by the spring called Now I Get It.

The thicker the woods, the vaster the vista:
the Valley of Obviously.

If any doubts arise, the wind dispels them instantly.

Echoes stir unsummoned
and eagerly explain all the secrets of the worlds.

On the right a cave where Meaning lies.

On the left the Lake of Deep Conviction.
Truth breaks from the bottom and bobs to the surface.

Unshakable Confidence towers over the valley.
Its peak offers an excellent view of the Essence of Things.

For all its charms, the island is uninhabited,
and the faint footprints scattered on its beaches
turn without exception to the sea.

As if all you can do here is leave
and plunge, never to return, into the depths.

Into unfathomable life.

~~ Wislawa Szymborska ~~
(A Large Number, trans. by S. Baranczak & C. Cavanagh)

The Celtic spiritual road is contextual and always open to wherever the beautiful mystery of the Soul of Life may reveal herself. Because of this, this is no unified Celtic tradition. Some Celtic descendants work more with ancient customs and technologies of the sacred that dwell within the fold of ruralfolkways. These descend from Druidism, a sacred natural philosophy
of life whose followers love and revere nature.

Others consider themselves adherents to an earth-loving contemplative Celtic-Christian mysticism that looks on the Creation as filled to the brim with the effervescent and illuminative influence of a loving, wakeful God. Scholars such as Jean Markale and Peter Berresford Ellis strongly suggest that these steams within the Celtic tradition are kissing cousins, ensured
by the good works of certain Celtic safes such as Morgan of Wales (Pelagius) and John Scotus Eriugena (John the Scot).

These days, in the United States, especially, many people are unfortunately caught up in the constrictive trap of over definition and separatism. Out lack of assurance about mystical reality and the ongoing realization that we, in the end, cannot define or pin down the unknown, cause some to cling to rigid ways of asserting what is and what is not spiritual, what is and what is not Celtic. We can simply utter the words, Celtic spirituality,
and those within earshot may assume we are talking about pre-Christian Celtic tradition, shamanism, or Celtic-Christian tradition, depending on their viewpoint. The need to categorize is not as strong among Celtic rural people, be they people of the shore or the hill people.

Often the spirituality of the Celtic descendants in the homelands represents a unique and sophisticated form of spiritual syncretism that may weave elements of the pre-Christian earth-based animistic tradition with facets of rural folk Christianity, not unlike the Japanese people, who often blend Shinto nature customs, Buddhist prayers, and certain Confucian concepts to form the basis of their daily spirituality. What freedom of spirit!

How beautiful to stand on a misty moor and orient oneself to a loving universe rather than to some wrathful conception of predestined darkness (Calvinism). The Celtic spirit does not avoid the darkness, or shadows, or struggle, resting in a quiet assurance that even within the darkest of the dark lies a flickering flame of goodness.

(Excerpt from pages 20-21)