The wheel of the year turns and though the sun still burns bright and strong, the sunlit hours wane with every passing day. The pagan sabbat of Lammas, the early harvest, is upon us. Lugh, the Celtic God of light, reaches out a warm, golden-skinned hand to guide us in the mysteries of life and rebirth held within the living land and our living flesh.
As the sun begins its downward arc toward the horizon, Lugh waits for you on the summit of a hill, backlit by soft, descending rays. A panoramic view of golden fields spreads before you, an overflowing abundance ripe for the harvest.
“Below us is the great exchange of life,” He says, “the miracle of sunlight transformed into sustenance to feed the children of this hungry world. But there is a price to this miracle; the seed of the new resides within the body of the living, and something must die, must fall, for something new to be born.”
A sword appears in His hands, its hilt toward you and the tip pressed against His breast.
“Everything has its season,” He says, His clear-seeing eyes never leaving yours, “The grain must be cut down for the seed to find new soil. One cycle ends so another can begin.”
With a wave of His hand, your awareness shifts and you can see into the weaving of life that underlies the golden fields: the parched, barren soil, the particles of contaminants in the air, and the murky sludge in the nearby stream.
“Like the green-growing realm, humanity has also come to the end of a cycle,” Lugh says, “For millennia, your species has lost sight of the natural ways and rhythms of the Mother Earth. You have taken more than She can bear, and despoiled the air, water and land that sustain you. This imbalance has come to a breaking point, threatening the very ecosystems that support human life; you are reaping what you have sown. Yet all is not despair and gloom. Within everything is the seed of a new season and a new harvest.”
The sword appears in His hands once more, with its sharpened point now pressing against your tender skin.
“This outer imbalance and the seeds of a better world reside within you,” Lugh says, “and along with them, the hope of a positive, new beginning. You must ask yourself: what is ready to be harvested and cut away in your life in service of a more sustainable, life-serving exchange between yourself and the Mother Earth? What lessons must you ingest to aid you in your transformation? What are you willing to sacrifice for these new seeds to take root in yourself and your human society?”The sun now kisses the horizon and you feel the chill of the impending darkness. Lugh’s light is dimming and you reach out to touch Him, and to take inside of yourself the magic of His sunlight embrace of the green-growing world.
He speaks to you one last time, “Remember that the seeds of the new are held within the body of the living. Everything you need to heal, grow and transform yourself and your world is present in this now moment, in the golden field that is your life. Be bold, be brave, be wise. One cycle ends so another can begin.”
With a sudden gust of wind, Lugh is gone, transformed into a descending spiral of golden chaff. And in your cupped hands are the seeds, the miracle, of the new world and the new harvest to come.
The Path of She is published on alternate Saturdays; follow it via RSS or e-mail! If you like Karen’s work, like her page on Facebook or maybe buy her book, Tale of the Lost Daughter, a fictional spiritual adventure into the life-changing world of magic and the sacred feminine.