Astrologically speaking August 1 marks the midpoint between the summer solstice and the autumnal equinox. This totally reminds me of when I used to write press releases for the Science Museum. I did my internship there in college, but I digress.
According to the Farmer’s Almanac, this “pagan day of harvest and thanks” is when the first fruits of the season begin to ripen. It’s when the first of the grains are pulled from the fields, a wonderful bounty that will feed the bellies of the community for the upcoming months. Derived from Old English hlaf, which directly translates to ‘loaf,’ and combined with ‘mass,’ meaning ‘feast,’ the Gule of August was a celebratory time.
A Brief History
The Christian Church adopted (stole?) this festival by requiring that loaves of bread were baked from the first-ripened grain to be brought to the churches to be consecrated. Control issues much? In Ireland baskets of blueberries are offered to a sweetheart in commemoration of the original fertility festival (whatever that is.)
In Scotland, Lammastide fairs became famous for trial marriages that could be ended without question after a year. This actually doesn’t sound like a terrible idea. Is our version the “live with them before you marry them” theory? Just a thought. The Celts celebrate the marriage of the Sun god and the Earth goddess, calling it Lughnasaid. It seems like a good reason to have a pig roast. I know a guy.
Honoring the Season
We used to follows natures cues, but somewhere along the way we starting watching false clocks, made-up timelines. ‘You are too young for that.’ ‘You are too old for that.’ But what if I like it? What if it makes me happy?
After Lammas Day, corns ripens as much by night as by day.
Proverb
Sometimes you have to burn it all down. I don’t mean that in the burning bridges type of way (not this time at least). What I am talking about here is the burning ceremony, the ritualization of it all. Ceremony helps us move on, move forward. It helps us grieve. It gets confusing when it’s not an actual death. I wrote a short story not too long ago illustrating this idea.
If you don’t want to play with fire, which trust me, I completely understand, you can break bread with a friend. I still jump at the sound of a propane grill being lit. Bonus points if you know how to bake bread! And if you do, let me know, because I am a sourdough whore. I will be right over. Or better yet, just mail it to me. I still have way too much social anxiety for that, even before the pandemic.
Cleansing rituals have also been suggested for this season, but I have been told that as a white woman smudging with white sage is particularly problematic due to the Native American rituals that hold that particular herb sacred. I do have a piece of cedar that I was gifted, and I haven’t heard anything surrounding that. I haven’t actually used it yet. I try really hard not to offend anyone these days. I mess it up sometimes, but that’s the human in me.
How Comfortable Am I Being a Beginner?
The short answer: I’m not. The long answer: I have crippling anxiety that causes me to hide my true self from others. I am really good at acting apparently. Just don’t tell my high school drama teacher. She told me that I “suck at memorizing.” This was the day after I panicked and blanked on my lines during the one act play that I tried desperately to nail. What great encouragement from the people who are supposed to be educating us!
Do you want to know what I learned? How to shut down. How to hide. I learned that it didn’t matter how hard I tried. I sucked. So I stopped. I kept me head down and did what I was told. I stopped playing dress up. Apparently I am supposed to call it “cosplay” to make it sound more adult. It’s the same fucking thing. I also stopped singing. I stopped dancing. I wanted so badly to get it all right.
Hanuman, the god of courage, evokes the fire in us this Leo season. The Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz forgot how to roar just like we do sometimes. We have to remember how to speak from our soul.
Jera, the rune of harvest and the fertile season, is here to remind us to be patient. This I am not, though I am working on it. Maybe it’s the millennial in me. Who fucking knows at this point? “Remember the old story about the farmer who was so eager to assist his crops that he went out at night and tugged on the new shoots.” (The Book of Runes, Ralph Blum) Maybe the answer is just to slow down a bit, and not rush through this life. I missed that part.
Om Namo Hanumate Namaha
Mantra
It means “Praise to the Lord Hanuman.” I saved you a step. Courage is hard. It comes after the actual doing though. I have a slight panic attack every time I post something, whether that be here or on Instagram.
I still have that fear of being made fun of, just like when I was little. I feel different about it now though. I have this urge to do it anyway. Just call me Simba. I’m still working on my roar.
Mad love, Jenna
Fun Fact! The first edition of the Motherpeace deck was self-published on Lammas Day in 1981 by Karen Vogel. (I don’t make money off that either.)
Check out this song for some of that Hanuman courage.
