I am like the year, and people only want summer

I am like the year -- I have summer and I have winter. Most people want me to be only summer. If they see winter, they try to banish it. I don't like being banished. When I am around people, I try to be summer. But I don't have much summer to offer. That is why I don't like to spend much time around people.

I have a friend who is okay with me being March or November -- kind of tired or annoyed -- but who can't stand me when I'm January -- entirely sick and/or entirely depressed.

I'm not looking for someone who prefers me to be sick and depressed. I don't prefer to be sick and depressed. But unless someone can offer me compassion and acceptance when I'm sick and depressed, unless they can see through it, can see that I'm still the same joyful, optimistic, idealistic, funny, intelligent person somewhere deep inside, then they won't get much of me. If all they want of me is summer, they won't get much of me, because there's little summer to give.

Spring: the emergence from winter's reflection

In Arianrhod's Dance, the spring equinox is described as the turning point when we move from the dark half of the year to the light half of the year:

The hearth work, the closeness of relationships, and the inner journeys we have made during the six months just passed will have taught us much that we can use to guide us as we step forth into a more physically active part of our lives....Those heady breaths of fresh, clean, spring air we take as we stand in the doorway are intoxicating harbingers of the Mabon -- the solar hero, Arthur, with all the wild budding world before him. There is a great and rising power here. The whole world feels it and celebrates. Each year, at this time, there will be a day when you know from the sunshine and the bird song, from the feel of the air, from the very vibrancy of the Land, that winter is at an end and a new power is coming.

In the past, I viewed the dark half of the year as a time of being cold, a time when nothing is happening, but in my druid studies over the past year, I've come to view it more as described as above. During the past winter, I would meditate by candlelight. When I think of winter now, I think of that candle, with its comforting light. I think of reading while wrapped in blankets. I think of snowshoeing in the woods on a crisp, bright day.

And what I've seen in observing the cycles of the seasons is how they remind us of the seasons in our lives. My life has been in a winter season for the past six years. It has been a very fruitful time. Six years ago, I did not know about either pantheism or druidry, and now both enrich my life greatly. In this time, I have learned to be more attuned to myself, to know when to rest and when to exercise, to know what is important to me.

The past six years have been a lovely time of winter in my life, but I worry that I will stay here forever. It seems to me that after all I learn from reflection, there will come a time to step out into the world again. Will I know it when the time comes? Or will I stay hidden, afraid of change, forever? I feel that I am on the verge of stepping into a spring-time phase over the next few months. However, over the past six years, there have been many times when I felt myself to be on the brink of spring.

One thing is that I have to live within my health. The times when I felt on the brink of spring in the past, it was mainly about hoping to be able to have my previous level of energy and health suddenly bestowed upon me. What I was waiting for was something beyond my control.

Now I see it differently. The way I see it now is that there are just a few more things I want to study, and then I want to choose to step out into the world. I want to step out with the same mind and body that I have now. I want to bring with me the growth from this six year time of winter. I want to live in accordance with my body's limitations. I don't expect to suddenly have the energy to do everything I want to do. But just as I have learned from reading and writing, the time is coming to learn from doing and from interacting with others.

Arianrhod's Dance and the seed of autumn

Tonight I read the autumn equinox section in Arianrhod's Dance by Julie White and Graeme Talboys. Some excerpts:

As with spring, the symbol of the autumn equinox is the seed. However there is a subtle difference between the seed planted and the seed harvested. That we planted seeds that we may plant them again may seem like an endless task without point, but it is only part of a much greater cycle. No seed is exactly the same as the seed from which it has grown. Each has within it the nourishment and the memory of the previous cycle....As individuals, we carry that forward in our own developing lives. However, we also carry it forward from generation to generation so that it lives beyond us....Genetically modified foodstuffs...break the cycle of development. If that should happen -- with food or in a wider sense -- wisdom is lost, our strength is gone, and we will wither....we must choose our path and work within it....Tomaotes are no better than fish. However, fish genes have no place in tomatoes.

At my job, I feel sometimes like a tomato trying to fill the role of a fish. At home on my balcony, looking at the trees and listening to the crickets, I feel like myself. I feel how I have grown from my parents, carrying forward their wisdom, while also being my own unique self.

Reaching for the sun

The weather forecast for a particular day may be uncertain, but overall, the seasons follow a predictable cycle. Life does not. We know that we have times of darkness and times of light, but there's no guarantee that summer will come to our hearts on an annual basis. Though we don't follow a predictable cycle as the year does, at times, we can identify our place in life as being similar to a certain station on the wheel of the year.

Last night, I was reflecting on the spring equinox. Spring equinox is a time when we are half in light, half in darkness, but we are turning toward the sun. That fits with how I feel. In the past few days, I have been thinking of all the things I use -- car, computer, cell phone, clothing, food, etc. I try to choose organic, locally grown, fair traded, recycled, and re-used products. Sometimes I succeed, and yet so many of the things I use don't fit these categories. I try not to use too much energy, but in recent days, I have felt it necessary to turn on the air conditioner.

In the same way, I try to devote my time and energy to making the world a better place, but too often, it seems that just surviving exhausts all my time and energy. I want to reach out to others in kindness and love, but too often I find myself discouraged and irritable.

And so, I live half in light, half in dark. I can never achieve all that I apsire to, but I can continue to reach for the light.

There's a song, "Every Flower" by Peter, Paul, and Mary:

Every flower's reachin' for the sun
Every petal opens when the day has just begun
Even in the city where they grow up through the street
Every blossom needs the sunshine to makes its life complete.
Some are torn out by the roots and cast aside
And some might be arranged for a bride
A flower's just a seed when it's young
And every flower's reaching for the sun.

Some are bent by fears they cannot see
And some are touched by love and set free
A flower's just a seed when it's young
And every flower's reaching, every flower's reaching
Every flower's reaching for the sun.

Sometimes I feel torn out and cast aside. Sometimes I feel bent by fears. Sometimes I feel I'm just a seed, not yet a flower. But still, I'll keep reaching for the sun.

Winter melts to spring

Where I live, during a typical winter, we'll have snow on the ground for a while, then it will melt and we'll have bare ground for a while, then it will snow again. This winter, we've had snow on the ground since December 26.

Now, slowly, winter is starting to turn to spring. I think the coming of spring is a good metaphor for many things in life. We see signs of spring, but then it snows. We have a warm day, but then it's cold. The journey is not a straight line, but ultimately, we do move forward from winter into spring.

I found the same pattern in recovering from illness. I think the pattern can also be applied to our entire lives. In general, we become wiser as we grow older, but we certainly have some lapses into lack of wisdom along the way.

For us, the snow that has been with us all winter started melting on Saturday, March 5. By the morning of Sunday, March 6, it looked like this:

It continued to melt through the day on Sunday, so by the afternoon, it looked like this:

That night, it snowed, so the next morning, Monday, March 7, it looked like this:

The snow remained the same for several days. The night of Thursday, March 9, there was some rain, so by the morning of Friday, March 11, it looked like this:

Friday, March 11 was warm, with the temperature getting up to 53, so there was a lot of melting. By the morning of Saturday, March 12, we had this:

New Year

Many modern Pagan and Druid traditions consider Samhain the holiday which marks the end of one year and the beginning of another, although what I've read by historical scholars indicates that this was likely not so for the Iron Age Celts.

I've been on an academic calendar most of my life -- first as a student, then as a university employee -- so it often has felt to me that a new year begins around the beginningof September.

Also, I feel that my year is divided into two seasons, summer and winter. Summer is when after work, it's warm and light, so I spend time outdoors, and when green leaves are all around me, while winter is when it is dark and cold when I get home from work, and the trees are bare.

It never made much sense to me to observe the new year on January 1, which it's not the beginning of anything, it's smack dab in the middle of winter.

Nor does Samhain feel like a new year. From the academic calendar perspective, it's smack dab in the middle of a semester. And while the falling of leaves indicates that an old year is dying, a new year is far from coming.

I think now as a druid observing the stations of the sun, it makes sense to observe winter solstice as the new year. That's the time when the sun has finished moving away from us, and begins to move toward us -- one year has finished dying, and another year begins to grow. From that perspective, January 1 isn't such a bad time to observe the new year after all. They talk about the 12 days of Christmas, so how about the 12 days of the new year, December 21-January 1.

Seasons

Sometimes I say that there seem to be two seaons here, summer and winter. Or in my more negative moments, I say the two seasons are too hot and too cold. But I think we do actually have spring and fall, I think they are just short. As I experience them, the seasons where I currently live go something like this:

• Samhuinn to Spring Equinox: winter (5 months)
• Spring Equinox to Memorial Day: spring (2 months)
• Memorial Day to Fall Equinox: summer (4 months)
• Fall Equinox to Samhuinn: fall (1 month)

How to get through the winter?

What is it that makes the summer feel better? If it's daylight, maybe I should get one of those lights they use for people with seasonal affective disorder.  If it's the fresh air from having the windows open all the time, maybe I should leave the window open a crack even in winter, and be sure to spend time outside.  If it's the warmth, maybe I should keep the windows closed, stay inside, and turn up the heat.

Weather this September has often been in the 60s, but now we are having a wave of warmth, with 70s the past few days, and 80s today.  I feel the way I do in the spring -- I wasn't conscious of feeling oppressed by the colder weather, but when the warmer weather comes, I feel the oppression has lifted.  It's the same way that I'm not conscious of feeling oppressed in the city, but when I go out to the country, I feel the oppression has lifted.

What exactly is it that makes me feel better in the warmer weather? It seems to have to do with feeling warm fresh air blowing on my skin, feeling the warmth of sun shining on me, seeing the leaves moving in the wind, walking barefoot, the freedom of movement permitted by summer clothing, and spending time outside.  I don't like hot humid days, but on those days, I like the cooler evenings.

Lughnasadh of my life

This is the time of year when we observe Lughnasadh. It occurs to me that where I'm at in my life now is at Lughnasadh. That is, Lughnasadh is the peak of the thermal summer (as opposed to the solar summer, which peaks at solstice). We still have a lot of summer ahead, and yet we know summer is waning now, rather than waxing. If the year parallels life, then spring is childhood and adolescence, summer is the middle years of childrearing and career, fall is when we retire from work and our kids are grown, but we still have a vibrant life, and winter is when we decline and die. And so, I'm at the point in adulthood when I'm no longer starting out. And yet, I feel as if I still am starting out. I feel as if I haven't yet found my path. As those who know me will attest, I am always wondering, "what should I do with my life?"

What do I want to do with my life? Over the past few years, certain values have emerged. What has not yet emerged is what I can do to enact those values. What I hope to do with my life is to live those values myself, and to support others who are seeking the same things.

As I see that my life is finite, that I have limited time to do whatever it is I will do with my life, I also see that my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles are older than I am, and I probably won't be able to be with them my whole life. I want to take advantage of the opportunity to be with them while I still have that opportunity.

Heat wave

"Horizontal Hold" by Peter Ostroushko is a song about what to do when there's a snowstorm -- get in bed with popcorn, board games, etc.

This week, we have the summer variation, with temperatures in the 90s predicted for at least four days (I know, that's nothing to the Texans, but here in northeastern US, it's an event).  Stephen and Bridget said they were planning to stock up on popsicles and lemonade, and stay in with the air conditioning.

I like the way Stephen and Bridget, just like Peter Ostroushko,  make unpleasant weather into a cozy adventure.

Nevertheless, mostly I like weather when I can comfortably be outdoors.  Sometimes it seems winter is better in that regard, because you can be outside if you bundle up and keep moving, while in summer, sometimes there is no way to be comfortable outside.

But at least in summer, it cools down at night.  Tonight after sunset I sat out on my balcony.  It had cooled down to the mid 80's -- warmer than I prefer, but bearable for sitting outside in the dark.  I gazed at the leaves on the trees.  I think that is what I love about summer -- being able to sit outside and gaze upon leafy trees.

But there is no point in choosing a favorite season.  Though we do have some choice about where to live, the seasons are the seasons, and the weather is the weather, and hopefully we can find joy in all seasons, because life is too short not to find joy in every moment.

Solstice

Summer solstice.  It's a bittersweet time for me.  For me, summer solstice itself is a beautiful time.  But the fact that the sunlight has reached its peak means that now it will be declining.

The past few years, winters have been times of ill health, of fatigue and dreariness, of living with the constant tension of trying to ward off the cold.  Summers in contrast are joyful times of green leaves and bare feet and embracing fresh breezes as they waft across my skin. There is something about the sight of the lush green that opens my heart.  I think it has to do with it being a sight that was imprinted upon me when I was young.

This time of year, I enjoy soothing times working in my garden and sitting on my balcony.  This time of year, I go to festivals and fireworks and outdoor concerts.  This time of year, I see sunlight sparkle on the river.


Summer is a beautiful time for me.  Summer is when I can do things outside without being negatively affected by the weather.  But some people live in climates where summer is when you have to huddle in the air conditioning all the time, and lack of air conditioning can be fatal, while winter is the time of lovely weather when one can be outdoors.

Just as summer solstice has different meanings for different people, around the world at any given moment, people are in different states.  Some are joyous, some are grieving, some are lonely, some are overwhelmed, some are sick, some are strong, some are hopeful, some are hating, some are forgiving.

When we observe the holidays that mark the turning of the year, we are reminded of how things change.  I enjoy summer, but it will fade away and leave me cowering in the cold.  I cower in the cold, but the warmth will return once again.  In the same way, I will experience times full of family and friends, and times alone; times of health and times of illness; times of joy and times of depression; times of financial security and times of poverty.

But there is a difference.  The wheel of the year is predictable.  We know how long each season will last, and we know that each season that has passed will come again.  Life is not like that.  Sometimes people are never able to lift themselves out of poverty.  Some illnesses never go away.  And I don't believe in reincarnation.  We only get to go around once, and we don't know how long a ride it will be.  Tonight I listened to a CD by Woods Tea Company.  Two of their four members have died.  Tonight, someone I know witnessed a shooting.  I know several people with ongoing illnesses.

What do I want to do while I am blessed to have this limited time on this earth? I want to dance barefoot in the grass. I want to sing at the top of my lungs.  I want to laugh with my family and friends.  Every moment we can spend with family and friends is to be treasured.

 What it boils down to, less poetically, is the same list that I've made many times before: what I want in my life are time spent with the people I like, doing things outdoors, music, and dance/movement (the "/movement" is to include things like Nia, tai chi, and yoga in addition to dance).

May

May is a joyous season as we emerge from winter's cold and darkness to find the trees, lilacs, and azaleas bursting forth with color, and I watch the greening of the hydrangea leaves as I eagerly look forward to the emergence in June of the hydrangea's flowers. This celebratory month includes the birthdays of one of my brothers, my sister, my sister-in-law, my father, my stepfather, 3 of my uncles, my cousin, and various musicians, including Pete Seeger, Fred Hellerman, Donovan, Utah Phillips, Peter Yarrow, and Sydney Carter, as well as my own birthday. It's the season of celebration!

Hooray for summer

I love summer because after work it is both light enough and warm enough to go outside. And on weekends, I can go sit by the river. And in summer I'm less sick.

Hope

On the way to and from work, I walk past the hydrangeas. At this time of year, the green leaves are growing, but there are no flowers. As I see how the leaves have been growing, it makes me happy, because I know flowers on the way. Sometimes the anticipation of something brings happiness as much as the thing itself.

Ode to summer

I've written this other years, but it's such a pleasure to

• Have it be light outside after work.
  
• Be able to enjoy the fresh air wafting against my skin rather than tensing up to ward off the cold.
• Feel the grass on my bare feet.
• Walk barefoot, or wear sandals.
• Wear clothes that allow freedom of movement.
• Be outside, whether for gardening, outdoor concerts, festivals, having lunch, looking at the scenery, or anything else.

Seasons

To me, there are two seasons, summer and winter. Summer is when I can go outside after work. Winter is when it's cold and dark after work. In summer, I can lie in the grass next to my garden, enjoying the fragrance of growing plants and the feel of fresh air wafting across my skin. In winter, instead I lie in front of the TV. In summer, I can wear comfortable, pretty clothes which encourage free-spirited movement. In winter, I huddle under many layers of clothes. In winter, my body is tense with warding off the cold. In summer, my body relaxes to drink in the fresh air and sunshine. In winter, the trees and fields are bare and gray. In summer, they burst forth full of life. Just looking at the green of leaves and grass makes my heart happy. I like summer evenings, with the feel of soft cool grass beneath bare feet, and the way the sun low in the sky gives a golden glow to the green of the leaves. I like sitting by the river at sunset, with the water looking so smooth and pink. I like the joyful bright yellow of dandelions. I like the feel of the earth in my hands as I work in my garden. I'm so glad summer has arrived.