From the age of four until sixteen I was sent to the United Free Church on a Sunday \u2013 a branch of the Presbyterian Church that no-one else in my family attended. That, as they say, is another story for a different day. I didn\u2019t mind Church too much, particularly when I was younger, as I loved to sing and the older ladies who loved to \u2018grandmother\u2019 me, always had a wee humbug \u2013 or \u201csooky sweetie\u201d for me in their handbag. There always seemed to be some celebration or other and I remember vividly the excitement of the Harvest Festival when the Church was adorned with fruits, vegetables, turnips (yes, you read that right, turnips of all things), corn and every hue of russet, copper and golden foliage you could imagine. We would give thanks for the bountiful harvest that was the result of the farmer\u2019s hard toil in the soil. A harvest that would sustain us through the long, cold, dark winter months when the earth was hard with frost and nothing would grow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Meanwhile, back at home, my mum was preparing for Mabon with a new flower arrangement she had created, nestled amongst candles and pine cones. I always remember the pine cones appeared everywhere you looked. Their appearance or disappearance seemed to signal a change of season in our 2-roomed flat (otherwise referred to as a studio these days).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a child, I didn\u2019t realise the low square, red and black wooden table was my mother\u2019s make-shift altar as well as our dinner table. The table was so low that we didn\u2019t have chairs, but a cushion, and we would sit to eat Japanese style. My mother loved that table until one day its sharp corner made contact with my face, and nearly took my eye out \u2013 quite literally. I boast a Harry Potter-style scar just a millimetre or two above my eye in memory of the table. She got rid of it not long after \u2013 probably because it held bad energy and spilt blood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t realise at that time, all the ways my mother celebrated the Sabbats \u2013 all while I was singing my little heart out, sitting on deliberately torturous wooden pews in Scotland\u2019s United Free Church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My mother had a complicated relationship with the Church. Mainly she despised anything that remotely aligned itself to organised religion. She and her brother had been in an orphanage run by sadistic nuns, and latterly the Church took away all her father\u2019s belongings after he died. I always wondered why I was sent to Church. I have surmised it was to keep me on the straight and narrow given who my father was, or perhaps to give her some much-needed alone time. Or perhaps I was sent as an offering to a God she didn\u2019t believe in. Who knows! She did have a dry sense of humour, my mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I found her Grimoire when I was about 9 or 10. It\u2019s the one thing of hers I would have loved to have reclaimed after she died, aside from her beautiful P\u0101ua ring, but it has since disappeared as these things do. Though her spellbook has yet to find its way to me, I do have memories of marking the turning of the wheel of the year through gifts from the earth. My mother would gather Gaia\u2019s bounty and create something beautiful, or bake something delicious and comforting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I realise there were many ways my mother marked moments in life, even the seemingly ordinary change in the seasons \u2013 she made them special just by noticing them. She noticed them, acknowledged them and celebrated them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Sacred Spiral to Mabon<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n As I sit here in my home in Tasmania, I reflect on these memories of my mother from a new vantage point. Things were tough back then. She had so many gifts and creative talents – she managed to make everything seem extraordinary, and yet I longed for her to notice me in the same way. What I wouldn\u2019t have given for her gaze to fall upon me and bestow me with a sense of magic and extraordinaryness. I\u2019ve just made a few batches of red grape juice from wine grapes, and Mr P is getting on with the next batch. The apple trees are heavy with fruit and the leaves are turning from green to yellow, red and orange \u2013 though paradoxically, we are experiencing the warmth of an Indian Summer today. We are now at the midpoint between the light and dark halves of the year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In Scotland, Ostara – the Vernal (Spring Equinox) will be warming the soil and seeds will stir, journeying up through the Earth. Ostara is a time of awakening, renewal and a time of new beginnings. Even though I\u2019ve lived in the Southern Hemisphere for 23 years now, I will always think of March as Spring \u2013 a time to celebrate making it out of the darkness and into the light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Much as I love that bright, joyous time of year, I honour the Turning of the Wheel according to my environment and the seasons I find myself in. Here at the end of the world, where the air is pure, the seasons are distinct and the weather is varied. I am learning to embrace a real Autumn and Winter once more. We must give thanks for all the Spring and Summer months gave us. It\u2019s a time to reflect on the people and things in our lives we are thankful for \u2013 for these will sustain us as we slow down and begin to spiral inward. The spiral within allows us to rest – and allows us to heal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now is the time to make sure the windows are sealed, summer\u2019s fruits are preserved and the seasoned firewood is stacked. The winter reads are piling by the bed and I\u2019m busy looking out the warmer clothes and my Nordic socks as well as Angus\u2019s fluffy coat. We are ready, prepared and thankful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I will be making an Apple Crumble from last year\u2019s apples to celebrate Mabon this year. Hopefully, my first attempts at canning were a success. It\u2019s not easy being a domestic Goddess you know \u2026 it certainly doesn\u2019t come naturally. However, I do attempt to honour The Great Mother and all the gifts, and traditions that she bestowed upon me. I carry them with me and connect to Her, through the Turning of the Wheel of the Year. From the age of four until sixteen I was sent to the United Free Church on a Sunday \u2013 a branch of the Presbyterian Church that no-one else in my family attended. That, as they say, is another story for a different day. I didn\u2019t mind Church too much, particularly when I was younger, as Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":17856,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17852","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17852","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=17852"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17852\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17858,"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17852\/revisions\/17858"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/17856"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=17852"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=17852"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lightmygaia.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=17852"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
I look all around at the bounties of nature all around and I can see her walking around through the paddocks, talking to the birds and the frogs. I can see her planning where the wildflowers should be planted and whether she could build a greenhouse with the bits and pieces propped up in the garage. She\u2019d love it here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
May Mabon\u2019s Blessings Be Bestowed upon You and Yours. With love and light beautiful souls. Until next time.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"