Happy May Day

When I was in grammar school (back in the early 70's) there was a tradition for the kids to run away from school on May 1. I have no idea where this came from, but I remember one May 1 where a good half of my class took to the woods and hid from the teachers for the whole day. I remember building a lean-to and camouflaged it so the teachers couldn't find us, and they didn't. We had some peanut butter sandwiches and a pack of Salems. Come 3:15 or whenever we returned to the school, got on the bus and never heard a word about it, no one told our parents and we didn't get in any kind of trouble.

That world has moved on no doubt. May Day certainly has something rebellious about it. Its a big holiday for the working class and socialist movements (which I have great sympathy for) and its a grand pagan celebration of fire and sex. Raise up the Maypole, hoist a glass, and light a fire (literally or figuratively-and responsibly)!

Everything's gradual

I stood on the beach once, like old King Canute, and waited for the tide to come up to me. I imagined that at some point a wave would roll in and that would be it. Instead, the sand became saturated and I started to sink well before the waves hit my boots. The tide seeps in under the sand, hidden from sight and its there when the waves break.

Spring rolls in like that. I was out today walking in the woods and its a real transition time. The warm sun and singing birds tell me its spring, but the cold mud, the occasional ice patch, and the bare browns and grays tell me its still not far from winter. Change is coming, but its coming at its own pace, not all at once, but a little at a time.

The works of men and women are like this too. Law, especially in the common law tradition, changes ever so gradually, layers and layers of subtly shifting precedent evolve into something else--even its opposite over time. We grow like this too, both physically and psychologically. Are you the same person you were 10 years ago? Probably not, and most likely you can't pinpoint one event that changed you. When you want something right away, or you want something or someone to change right away, keep this in mind. Not much worth happening happens all at once.

The language of birds

I don't speak it, but I wish I did. I note that in some of the old myths, such as the one about Sigurd, it is because he can understand the language of the birds that his life is saved. I have lots of bird feeders around my house. I do sunflower seed, cracked corn, peanuts and suet. I pay a lot of attention to them and its an important part of my life. (I recently had two nuthatches tattooed on my leg). A week or two ago I spotted my first red-wing blackbird, and today the grackles showed up. This is very early in my experience. The robins (although not bird-feeder birds) have been around all winter, again very odd. We now have turkey vultures around for a good part of the year and I know last fall I saw a squadron of swallow-tail kites--who my Audubon books say only go north as far as North Carolina. I haven't seen a grosbeak or a waxwing this season.

I wonder what the birds have to say about this. I'm afraid that even though I don't speak the language, I know the answer.

Revolution in Spirit

Today I took one of the dogs and went snowshoeing out in the Audubon/Portland Trails preserve off outer Congress. There is a waterfall down in there where I like to leave offerings for the land spirits. The sun was beautiful and bright like you only really get in the winter. Summer sun is nice no doubt, but it can be a bit heavy handed. Winter sun dazzles and shines with promise.

At any rate I think it was about 50 degrees, but it was breezy and kept me cooled off. As I was coming down the ridge towards the waterfall, I heard a hawk calling and stopped and watched a big mature redtail circle close in over the marsh. The shoes were making a lot of noise on the snow, so I think I put him up. I find it hard to identify different hawk species, but when the redtail shows it tail in all its glory, its unmistakable, and this particular one today was putting on a show.

I tossed a coin into the waterfall (hard to know its a waterfall when its all iced up) and headed back towards the railroad tracks. When I reached the top of the ridge on the west side of the tracks I stood to rest a bit (snowshoeing is great exercise btw) and saw a big bird flying west to east. It circled and when the light hit it there was no doubt it was a big mature bald eagle. Simply magnificent. My heart soared with the eagle.

When I got home I read an article in the Nation by Benjamin Barber. It's called "Revolution in Spirit" and you can read it here: http://www.thenation.com/doc/20090209/barber

I figure I was out for an hour and a half on this brilliant warm winter day within the City limits and I saw only one other person out in the preserve. In a way its nice to have these places to oneself, but in another its kind of sad. Where was everyone? At the mall? Watching TV? Surfing the Net? who know. (It was too late for folks to be at Christian church).

I think paganism pushes me toward a revolution in spirit. It cost nothing to shoe through the park (I did pay 80 bucks for the snowshoes, I guess, and I left a quarter for the spirits) and I was spiritually refreshed. There is so much to see and experience just by going out and paying attention. The sea, the sky, the woods, and all thats in them, cannot be manufactured or marketed. Love it, respect it, or lose it I'm afraid.

Earth based spirituality prods me to get out and breathe in the air and really to become a part of the Mother Earth and all her progeny. It makes me feel whole and it helps me to work on the Revolution in Spirit.

Wassail!

Half Way Through

Winter is half over. Some folks are celebrating Imbolc now, others the Charming of the Plow, and some are watching the Superbowl.

With two feet of snow on the ground, its not the time to bring out the garden implements and bless them, nor is it the time to welcome the new green shoots of spring. That will come later. Nevertheless, its a spoke in the wheel of the year that's worth acknowledging. Here is an old English prayer (no doubt of heathen origin) that seems fitting for this time of year.

Erce, Erce, Erce, Mother of Earth,

Hail to thee, Earth, mother of men,

Be fruitful in God's embrace,

Filled with food for the use of men.

Many Partings

Shortly after the New Year my great aunt (my grandmother's older sister) died. She would have been 100 had she made it to February. She was a kind woman and was able to keep her mind and body healthy up until very recently. My grandmother didn't know about her sister's death because she suffered from advanced Alzheimer's disease and been so afflicted for many, many years. Last Saturday I visited my Gram and she had a cough, but otherwise seemed like her old self. On Thursday she died, about two weeks after her sister. I can't help but think that her older sister visited my Gram her from beyond the veil of death and invited her to move on. I hope that both of them find a place of equal kindness, warmth and cheer that they helped create for me while we all lived together here.