Golden and Opulent

All hail to the Feria Saturnalia, old Roman feast of abundance, carnival, wild revelry, a time when the Fool, the Lord of Misrule, gets to be King, and all is topsy turvy, social order inverted, master serves the slave.  A year has come full circle and it's time to begin again the Fool's Journey along the Royal Road once again*

Do astrologers feel consternation that "old dour" Saturn has such a raucous festival of joy named after him? Maybe there are secrets about this god of the goat Capricorn (the sign the sun enters during this celebration) that they don't know? For it is he, and not "jovial Jupiter" that rules over the Golden Age of happiness, free of toil, a time of no private property but communal sharing by all. Janus, for whom the month of January is named, instituted the Saturnalia as a yearly tribute to his old friend Saturn.

Saturn's assigned metal in astrology is lead, one of the basest of elements. And yet he rules over the age of gold.  What a paradox! Could this indicate that it is actually the current age, with it's uneven distribution of earth's resources, that is topsy turvy and that we need a return to the Golden Age to set things right on again? It is fitting that Ops, from whom comes the word opulent, is the wife of Saturn.  Her opulence is reflected in the earth's riches, yes, the bejeweled hills but even more worthy for us humans, her opulent fruit hanging like jewels from the Tree, for, after all, we can't eat gold.

Imagine a "gold rush" not to acquire some gleaming metal, but to perpetuate the golden joys of love and goodwill to all!  Imagine living in the Golden Age, so eloquently described by Ovid in his Metamorphoses (Book I:89-112):

This was the Golden Age that, without coercion, without laws, spontaneously nurtured the good and the true. There was no fear or punishment: there were no threatening words to be read, fixed in bronze, no crowd of suppliants fearing the judge’s face: they lived safely without protection. No pine tree felled in the mountains had yet reached the flowing waves to travel to other lands...no steep ditches surrounding towns, no straight war-trumpets...no swords and helmets. Without the use of armies, people passed their lives in gentle peace and security. The earth herself [Ops] also, freely, without the scars of ploughs, untouched by hoes, produced everything from herself. Contented with food that grew without cultivation, they collected mountain strawberries and the fruit of the strawberry tree, wild cherries, blackberries clinging to the tough brambles, and acorns fallen from Jupiter’s spreading oak-tree...Then the untilled earth gave of its produce and, without needing renewal, the fields whitened with heavy ears of corn. Sometimes rivers of milk flowed, sometimes streams of nectar, and golden honey trickled from the green holm oak.

There are some fabulous parties going on this weekend (how fitting - it's the Saturnalia!) and it's hard to decide which to attend. I wish I could be at all three simultaneously... But wherever I go, I will raise a glass of (golden) Strega Liquore, with a toast to all my relations. IO, Saturnalia!

*as symbolized by the Tarot, Tar (Egyptian, "road") and Ro ("royal, king"), and yes, the Kings Road is a Fools Journey. 

And that's a good thing.

Tarot cards: 0-Fool, III-Empress, 3 and 9 of Cups, Ace of Pentacles

Coatlaxopeuh

Light a candle for the Virgin of Guadalupe. To She who appeared to an Indian farmer, heralded by whistles and flutes, singing birds and heartbeat wings. The man to whom she chose to grant this vision was an Aztec descendant named Cuauhtlatoatzi (Talking Eagle), and renamed Juan Diego upon his conversion to Catholicism. She appeared to him as a beautiful woman with light brown skin, robed as an Aztec princess.  On the hill of the shrine of Tonanztin she appeared, instructing that a chapel to the Virgin be built upon this site. She asked to be called The Virgin of Guadalupe. When a bishop demanded proof of the miracle, she instructed Juan to gather an armful of Castilian roses. Juan filled his cloak and returned to the bishop.  But when he opened his cloak, instead of roses, the luminous image of Our Lady, surrounded by stars, was imprinted on the fabric, and the bishop fell to his knees in awe.

Why the name Guadalupe? Tonanztin's hill on which she appeared was called Tepeyac. Some interpret this as Mother Mary's sign of divine blessing upon Christian conquest, that she is the same as "Our Lady of Guadalupe" in Estremadura, Spain.  But the indigenous people of Mexico City know that hundreds of years before the Spanish invasion, offerings were made on that same hill to the Earth Mother Tonantzin. That another name for her is Coatlaxopeuh, pronounced quatlasupe.  Coa (serpent), tla (the), xopeuh (crush, stamp out), or She Who Crushes the Serpent, which Christian's will say symbolizes the Aztec, Toltec and Maya and their practice of human sacrifice, but can also represent the forked tongued conquistadors.

The mestizo will tell you that her appearance inspires hope in a people who were being oppressed by the Spanish. The Zapatista in Mexico carry her image on banners to raise awareness of the plight of farm workers, women and indigenous peoples.

Throughout the land December 12 is a special day to honour Our Lady. A plethora of novena candles declare her to be one of the Lux Mundi, Light(s) of the World. Ribbons of fragrant copal rise amid sounds of conch and drum and coyolli seed pod rattles, jingling on the dancers' ankles like abundant rain. The copilli headdress they wear, an impressive feathered fan, draws down the energy of the cosmos into Mother Earth Tonantzin, healing her, and quetzal feathers dance their aerial dance, falling gently down upon her. A salute to the Four Winds and the circle of life honours the ancestors and helps keep the sacred traditions alive.

Inside the church, Mayan copal blends with European frankincense, and two diverse cultures reconcile, at least for the moment, in their common devotion to Our Lady, a bridge of Light who, at least for a day, brings forth a peaceful fusion of disparate cultures and religions.  Reminding us once again that we are all connected.

Tarot card: II - High Priestess, XIV - Temperance

Luce, Lucente, Lucia

Santa Lucia, la tua luce sta lucchio

Con la notte d'inverno piu scura, 

dona di conforto.

Galleggiante di sogni sui sogni stasera,

Viene allora la luce di mattina,

Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia

Santa Lucia, thy light is glowing 

Through darkest winter night, 

comfort bestowing. 

Dreams float on dreams tonight, 

Comes then the morning light, 

Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia.

Lucia, Lucina, Lucy, lucchio, luce, lucente come from the Latin root lux, meaning "light". In the darkness of deep winter, it's no wonder that our ancestors, without electricity, worshipped the sun and, feeling anxious in the diminishing daylight, eagerly sought the return of solar blessings, luring it back with festivity, music and dance. Yultide festivals of light surviving into modern times include Hanukkah, Christmas, a Shinto rite honouring sun goddess Amaterasu and a similar Cherokee festival in honour of a goddess who, like Amaterasu, withdrew into the shadows until charmed back out by the magic of song and dance. The Roman festival Lux Mundi ("light of the world") on December 10, came to be represented by Libertas, Lady Liberty, whose torch lights the way through the darkness.

And then there's the feast day of St. Lucy, named for light itself, on December 13, considered by some to be the 1st of the 12 days of Christmas. According to others, they span either Winter Solstice through New Years, or Christmas through Epiphany, take your pick.  In the case of this feast on December 13, celebrants are more likely to call it the "13 nights of Christmas" and in Slovakia, a most wickedly bewitching time it is.* Radio Prague proclaims that "witches come out to play on St. Lucy's Day" and their power is at it's height during the two weeks preceding Christmas. And I'm not talking good witches here. On the evening of her feast day, fires are lit, and incense thrown into the flames. To protect them from witchcraft, disease, and danger, people smudge themselves in the smoke. Slovakians were (are?) most frightened of the "witch Lucy", and according to ethnologist Katarina Nadaska, "They locked their stables unlike for the rest of the year...and used to hang a garlic wreath on the door of the stable...It was dangerous to leave the door unlocked. The witches could simply come to take straw or some bits and pieces out of the stable and use them for black magic."

On a lighter note, the period of 12 days gives rise to love magic too. If you can't decide between 12 lovers, and assuming you only want one, put their names on separate pieces of paper and tape them, face down, tearing one off each day. The name that is left on Christmas Eve will be the One. Folklore hints at strange occurrences happening at midnight on St. Lucy's Eve. You may wake to the sound of cattle speaking and/or see running water. In Norway, Lucy is considered a wanton woman (Loose Lucy?), maybe even a goblin, and is one of the many leaders of the Wild Hunt.

Elsewhere in Europe, Lucy is venerated and celebrated, especially in Scandinavia and Italy.  The young Lucia was herself Sicilian, living in the city of Syracuse, of which she became the patron saint.  She lived during a time when the Christians were persecuted for being "pagan," i.e. in conflict with the official state religion (in other words, before Constantine), and the story goes that she carried food to the Christians hiding in dark underground tunnels, lighting the way she wore a wreath of candles on her head. Like most virgin saints, she shunned marriage, I mean Shunned with a capital S, to the point that when a suitor admired her beautiful eyes, she cut them out and sent them to him! Other sources say that he had her eyes put out.  Because of this, she is the patron saint of eyesight and blindness, and is depicted in art carrying her eyes on a dish.

Similar to the icons of St. Lucy and Liberty-Lux Mundi, the Sabine goddess Lucina was often pictured holding a lamp and a plate of cakes that resembles eyeballs. She was absorbed into Juno Lucina, goddess of childbirth, and her epithet is "she who brings children into light".   It is she who opens new babies eyes to see the light for the very first time, and, by extension, is invoked when one is feeling jaded, helping us to see the world with "new eyes".  The Roman feria Juno Lucina is March 1, but because of the similarity of names, merged later with the old Swedish feast of Lucia into what is now the Christian feast of St. Lucy, still celebrated throughout Europe (except perhaps Slovakia), but especially in Scandinavia and Italy.

In Italy, torchlight processions and bonfires celebrate the light bringer, and sweets called "St. Lucy's eyes" are eaten.  This is often the day my family and I make confections of peanut butter spheres dipped partially in chocolate, called buckeys or chestnuts in recipe files, but a friend who tasted them some years ago called them "eyeballs" and the name stuck.  Italians also eat bowls of cooked wheat porridge called Cuccia** in remembrance the time the people of Syracuse invoked the saint's deliverance from a famine, and immediately a ship loaded with grain sailed into the harbour.

Nowhere is the celebration of Lucy so fervant than in the Nordic lands where the shortness of daylight hours is most drastic. The oldest daughter in the family will wake up before dawn on St. Lucy's day and dress in a white gown with a red sash, on her head a wreath of greens and candles.  She fixes a breakfast of x and/or s-shaped Lussekatter cookies ("Lucy cats")**, saffron buns, and glogg, to serve this to the rest of the family as breakfast in bed. If she has younger brothers, they dress as "star boys" in white gowns with star spangled cone hats, and carry star tipped wands; if younger sisters, they wear white and put glitter in their hair.  Later on in the day, Lucy and her siblings process in their festive gear around town, sometimes led by "St. Stephen" on horseback (the feast of Stephen is Dec 26).

* School of the Seasons has an interesting take on the 12 Days, see Time Out of Time  She also has more about St. Lucy’s Day

** www.fisheaters.com/customsadvent6a.html has recipes for Cuccia and Lussekatter

The image art is Domenico Beccafumi, Saint Lucy, 1521, a High Renaissance oil on wood recasting of a Gothic icon

Tarot cards: IX Hermit (holding a lamp), 6 wands

At the midnight of the year, the night riders fly...

Riding through the night skies w/a horde of caribou, arriving at midnight accepting food offerings, living in the darkness of the far north, ingesting hallucinogenic mushrooms...typical behaviour of a Christian saint? The "Jolly Old St. Nicholas" is yet another leader of the Wild Hunt, which commenced at Hallows and peaks at Yule. 


The Teutonic god Hold Nickar (Old St. Nick?) galloped through the sky during the winter solstice, granting favours to his worshippers below. The original Nordic leader of the hunt was Odin, known in Germanic myth as Wodan. Odin rode his eight-legged horse, Sleipnir. Today it is Santa who rides, with his eight reindeer.

Flying Reindeer! You bet they fly.  Reindeer are sacred to nomadic tribal shamans of northern Europe and Asia, providing food, shelter and clothing. They themselves feed on grass and lichens, and are simply wild about the mushroom Amanita muscaria, aka "fly agaric". They will seek them out, then prance about euphorically while under their influence, effects of which can include sensations of flying. And so go the legends of flying reindeer.  Reindeer games indeed!

Can humans play too? Yep, if they're willing to drink deer urine. The active ingredients of the mushroom are not metabolized by the body, but remain active in the urine. It's actually safer to drink the urine of a deer who consumed the mushroom than to eat the mushroom itself, as many of the toxic compounds are processed and eliminated on the first pass through the body, but the potent effects remain active even after six passes.  The phrase "to get pissed," in Europe means to get drunk (but not necessarily "pissed off" as the American use would indicate) and was likely coined directly from this ancient practice, which preceded alcohol by thousands of years. [Am I recommending that you go out and drink "deer beer"? Absolutely not!]

One of the side effects of eating amanita mushrooms is that the face takes on a flushed, ruddy glow. Well, "ho, ho, ho!" - remind you of anyone you know? Let's take a look at this jolly red elf; why does he dress that way? When the time came round for the midwinter "Annual Renewal" festival, the ancient Siberian shaman would don special attire, specifically, a red and white fur-trimmed coat and long black boots. He would then go into evergreen woods to seek and gather the red and white spotted magical mushroom in an act of sympathetic magic whereby, if one dresses like their quarry while hunting, be it an antlered deer or a red and white fungus, you will find it.  

One can imagine the awe felt by our distant ancestors upon discovering for the first time these colourful caps growing among the roots of the trees,  this "virgin birth" magically springing from the earth without any visible seed. Looking for the sire, so to speak, they supposed it was a result of the morning dew, the "divine semen" echoed in modern representations as silver tinsel decoration. Amanita muscaria grow in pine and birch woods of western North America, northern Europe, but these days are more commonly found in fairy tale books and some vintage Christmas ornaments. They are also in Europe an emblem of chimney sweeps. This may be why:

Carrying his sackful of "toys" (the fly agaric), the shaman would then enter his reindeer skin yurt through the smoke hole "chimney" at the top, descending the birch pole "fireplace" to the floor. Once inside, he holds ceremony, guiding the group in stringing the "popcorn and cranberries" i.e., the mushrooms, and hanging them out to dry, which is another way to reduce the mushroom's toxicity while increasing its potency. The gifts distributed and shared, he leaves back up the pole and out the smoke hole.

Where does he go? Does he follow the migratory paths of the reindeer? Does he follow Elen (Bulgarian, deer) the antlered goddess of ley lines, "…whose trackways lead us through the frozen forest of our winter dreams"?  Reindeer guide him on a magical journey in his sleigh of dreams, traversing the entire planet on a single night, and like other Wild Hunters that precede and follow him (La Befana, Hold Nickar, even the sea god Poseidon on his horse...) "Old St Nick" gallops through the sky at Yule, showering gifts upon his worshippers below. The shamanic flight paths spiral on upward around to the top of the sacred evergreen World Tree and on toward the highest star. We can see his sleigh chariot when we look up into winter's dazzling night sky of bright stars. There we find what we now call the big dipper, circling around the North Star, topping the central axis of the cosmic Tree, around which hang all the other star lights and planet "ornaments".  And so the spirit of the shaman climbs the sacred tree, and passes into the realm of the gods. Something to think about while decorating for the holidays. 

Santa lives directly under this star at the North Pole. Exhausted (and exhilarated!) from his turn at the helm of the Wild Hunt, Old St. Nick is going home.

Tarot: King of Cups, especially in the Greenwood Tarot where it is called Reindeer; VII Chariot, XVII Star


* * * * * *

Elen of the ways I am named. I keep the paths between the many worlds and wind the strands of time and place around the souls of those who travel on these ancient tracks. Those who seek the wisdom of the spirit, who are drawn thither by their dreams, must first encounter me at the gates of Solstice. Then, if they pass the tests I set before them, they may proceed, deeper and yet deeper into the mystery of the Winter harvest. 
-from the "Sun in the Greenwood" ritual by John and Caitlin Matthews 


***This article also appears in  the Winter 2009 issue of Gaea's Own newsletter, which can be accessed here

Eve of St. Nicholas

When I was a little girl, my sisters and I would wake up on December 6 to the happy surprise of small gifts left to us by St. Nicholas, set upon the table by our places at breakfast. Not on the grand scale of Christmas, just a small gift and some candy, but that was enough to set a start the day off on a happy note.  I recall the time we each got a 45 rpm record; mine was Led Zepplin's "Immigrant Song" much to the subsequent dismay to my parents when they heard it. This tradition was a carry over from the Old Country; most of our classmates didn't know what St. Nicholas Day was. As a parent, I've continued to carry on the custom, placing candy and small gifts in some wooden shoes I bought in the Netherlands. It's a charming tradition.

St. Nicholas, a 4th century bishop of Myra, is the patron saint of children. His father left him a fortune which he used to help poor children, and he often threw gifts anonymously into the windows of their homes.  Legends tell of ways he rescued the young from dire fates and even death, bringing them back to life!  No wonder he's a very popular saint, and countries that claim his patronage include Russia, Greece, Austria, Belgium, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Sicily, and Switzerland. 

Some religious historians and folklorists claim there is no valid evidence to indicate that St. Nicholas ever actually existed, but that, like many saints, his life story was based on those of pagan gods.  He has associations with the Greek sea god Poseidon, to whom in the Athenian calendar this entire month is dedicated to. When the church created the persona of St. Nicholas, they adopted Poseidon's title "the Sailor" and various sea port temples of the sea god became shrines to St. Nicholas. Legends tell us that the saint halted a storm at sea in order to save three drowning sailors, and during a famine he procured some grain from a ship passing through Myra. Thus he became patron saint of sailors. He kept some of the grain and baked the rest in the shape of a man (and so became a patron saint of bakers). Gingerbread men, especially the Speculatius, are baked for his feast day December 6, and throughout the Yule season. A speculatius ("image") is a gingerbread figure, originally of a bishop, a "mirror image" (in Latin, speculum means mirror) pressed into a wooden mold and then turned to bake in the oven.  These I think are available for purchase at the SCA's Kris Kinder markets, also commercially throughout the year, in the shape of a windmill. Be sure to leave some cookies out for Santa and the other night riding Yuletide gift bringers!

Tarot cards: King of Cups, and in the Tarot of the Saints, the Magician