This is the first part of a mini-sermon I delivered on Sunday to the students of Reflections. I will post it in two parts, mostly because it was a lot longer than I realized. I had started our session discussing the mystery of unknowing. Maybe I will post that mini-sermon at some point. I hope you enjoy part one. I will post part two later this week.
I spoke earlier about the mystery of un-knowing, but now I want to talk about Fall’s Foliage. The previous rituals this year were Spring’s Sprouts and Summer’s Blossoms. And now we are at Fall’s Foliage.
I will admit that fall is my favorite season, spring is a close second, but fall …I just love it. It may seem too early to talk about fall now that we are entering what is normally the hottest month of the year.
But of course we are discussing the mythic realm, the realm of spirit. And so we have discussed the importance of patience that leads us to care for and nurture the sprouts of spring. And later we meditated on how the blossoms of summer were just the beginning of what was coming later – that the blossoms were not the final stage.
And here we are at our Fall’s Foliage ritual and it is being held on the Sabbath of the first harvest, which makes it all the more potent. It is about how, finally, we can begin to harvest. Not all of the harvest is ready however, not all of bounty you have planted is available to be consumed or ingested. But, we can recognize that the first harvest is the promise of more to come.
And that is the hard part, because just as people have no patience to allow the sprouts to continue growing. And often folks jumped the gun with the first blossoms. So it is often hard to figure out what is in fact a part of the first harvest.
In the physical realm, at least around these parts, the first harvest is traditionally grains and berries. But in the realm of spirit, the first harvest is all about those little signs that signal to you to let you know that all is not forlorn, that there is hope even in the midst of despair.
Everyone’s first harvest is different. Sometimes it is the little things that count. I use to read a twelve-step book of prayers and quotes, one for each day of the year. And one of the entries was about noticing the variety of shades of green in nature. Through all those years prior to that lesson, I never noticed that the green of nature came in different shades. It was just Crayola eight-pack green to me, because my world was very stark. And that little book said, “Notice the shades of the green, the variations of green.” And I am reading this book at the bus stop because that was when I read it each morning, and I look up and suddenly saw for the first time, all the different shades of green around me – I stood there frozen with my mouth open, in shock. And that new awareness revealed to me that there was more than I imagined in the world. That was the beginning of my first harvest.
Later I stood in the pavilion at my first witch camp being led through some exercises to aspect Aphrodite. And at the very moment when I felt her presence, suddenly I could once again see the variations of green, and it was a shock to me … just like the first time. And I realized that here again was another glimpse of my first harvest. And so over the years, I have used the shades of green and whether I can see them as a measure of how healthy I am, emotionally, spiritually, physically and mentally. It was such a gift for me that after a time I never lost the ability to see the variations of green, not once over all these years.
The first harvest can be the smallest thing. It can be something that everyone else around you takes for granted. Your first harvest will have a meaning just for you. It will be sustaining like the grain and it will be sweet like the berries. But it will be your first harvest.
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Wish I could be there. Very well spoken.
Katrina,
I wish you all the blessings and power you need on your journey. Thank you for these words. It is good to remember that returning to work (and thus returning to grace) bring a chance for us all to rest and have joy.
Wishing you joy in the Work.
David
Dear Katrina- Thorn reposted your blog and happy am I. Your passion, always so immense, comes blowing out in these words. So akin to my own heart and soul that it makes me have a bittersweet smile.
The Storm is only now coming to the edges of our universe and yet it will sweep and consume all that is. In the end, our beautiful universe will be so much...more? Different? Complete? Who knows?
All I do know is my soul came here to witness and be part in this period. I cannot shrink from the work. I am here with you, fae sister!
Thought-provoking piece, Katrina. Thanks.
I don't know what to call myself either. In Pagandom, I've taken to referring to myself as a Witch at Large. In the interfaith world where I'm active, I call myself a Pagan. Sometimes I call myself an uppity woman or a Second Wave Feminist. I've never really thought to publicly identify myself by my sexuality, het woman, which is very "white bread" and old-fashioned. Not only het, but serially monogamous for the most part. It seems almost a liability these days to say you're het, but I am proudly and happily so. I tend towards intellectualism but only have a BA, which doesn't carry much weight, at least in public and professional worlds, no matter how much you've studied, trained, and can articulate, even teach.
My biological heritage is Irish, Dutch, French Huguenot, Euro-mongrel. My social heritage is Roman Catholic on one side and conservative Methodist, temperance-crusading, women's rights and education on the other, with distinct East Coast sensibilities, now mellowed by more than half a century living on the Left Coast. My maternal political heritage is conservative Republican (altho what my relatives might think of current trends in the GOP I cannot imagine, since they did have brains and they did think and they did have a social conscience), yet I am much farther left in my outlook than any elected official I know. My paternal political heritage is blue collar Democratic, except that my dad broke with his family on politics and allied with my mother's family's conservatism.
I'm a former hippie, a home-birth advocate, a home death and green burial advocate, an opponent of capital punishment and resorting to warfare to resolve humankind's differences. I support the right to conscious self-deliverance. I rejoice in any and all consensual expressions of love and eros. I'm a lover and a mom.
I have never missed voting in an election and I disrespect those who don't avail themselves of this hard-won right. (I have ancestors who fought the Brits in the American Revolution.) I support workers' rights. I recognize our interdependence on this planet, so could be called a greenie. I'm a committed environmentalist in my day-to-day life (in terms of eating locally grown food, expanding public transit, recycling, preserving open space and wildlife, opposing exploitation of natural resources [strip mining, oil-drilling, nuclear facilities, agribusiness, monocultures, clear-cutting timber, overuse of pesticides, genetic modification, etc.]) I want to make the city streets "safe for dancing," as my old friend Tony Serra said when he ran for mayor of SF on the Platypus Party ticket.
Well, you got me going there, my friend. Thought-provoking read, as I said. ;-)
xo,
Macha
Lovely azaleas!
[cough][gag][snort][sneeze]
Just lovely...
I know what you mean.
I feel you. There is too much bs- particularly when people decide that their temperament is tantamount to truthful and ignore everyone else.
I get irked by immature extroverts or closet introverts who ignore you REPEATEDLY and then pretend you're out of line for being upset by the time they can't pretend you didn't say anything anymore. I find that the same people will ignore you if you blow up right away, too, and that it's because they just don't think that honoring what you value is important to maintaining a relationship, or even worse: that you don't know what you value at all and that it's all a mind game for their pleasure or annoyance. Then they call you passive-aggressive, aggressive, moody, touchy and temperamental. I call them "not listening".