Beltane Musings

As a pagan, living in a Big City can be hard on multiple levels. Big Cities are…big. Full of man made structures, vehicles, people, noise…connecting to the world, the cycles of the year, the food we eat…well, at least for me, it’s all very overwhelming and I have to work extra hard to pay attention to natural things. The natural rhythms of the world fade away here, they don’t exist in a city that never sleeps. I can’t even see the stars at night because of all of the light pollution. Sometimes the noise and the lack of a clear night wear down on you. Cities are exhausting. Sometimes I ache to be in the back country again.

A friend of mine laments at the inhumanity of Big Cities. She wonders how people can walk past the homeless everyday and not be compelled to do something. In sentiment, I agree with her. I wonder what sort of person I am that I can walk past some of the things you see in a Big City and not help. In practical reality I know how possibly dangerous it is to pull out money on the subway or to open my purse on the sidewalk, especially right now.

Another friend of mine who just visited told me she didn’t think she could constantly ignore how in your face people in the city are. She didn’t think she could hold her boundaries and ignore all of the things you have to constantly, actively, work to ignore in order to not attract attention or encourage further focus in order to stay safe.

I admit, I’m a little numb to it now. You have to be. You block out anything that does not pertain to you and you keep your attention on yourself if you want to avoid confrontation. It’s like that scene in the first John Wick movie where John Wick is fighting one of the assassins on the subway and everyone on the subway car just moves to the other side and pretends not to see it. That’s real. That’s totally what would happen. In a Big City, if you don’t want to be a part of it, you do not see it. On Tiktok, a girl posted a video about how to tell who grew up in the city versus those who did not. In the video, she walks out to the sidewalk and gives a blood curdling scream. Some of the people stop and gawk, others just keep on moving by, not noticing her at all. The people that stop and look and react, she proclaims, are NOT FROM HERE. And again, I can’t argue.

As a heavily tattooed person, even in a Big City, I often attract attention. It’s become a joke of sorts with my friends that every time I ride the ferry, some crazy person will stop and engage with me about my tattoos. Tonight, it was a homeless man who wanted to know if I had seen the History channel show on aliens and tattoos. I politely told him that I had not, but that I would try to check it out. In this case, he asked me his question, gave me a smile and moved on. As far as interactions with strangers go, it was very mild. He was holding a cup of hard boiled eggs and seemed to be in good spirits.

And honestly, I had forgotten that it’s Beltane, that the veil is thin, that there are things I should have done and celebrated today and would have, if I weren’t in the Big City. The disconnect is real.

And it didn’t occur to me until later that the homeless man that stopped by to ask me about whether I had seen a show about aliens and tattoos was the city manifestation of the spirits that might be wandering about tonight, a night where the veil is extremely thin. And that I, someone who is serving a patron deity that is the god of madmen, might have missed a few things about living in a Big City in terms of how I view the spiritual world around me and how the gods still talk to those of us here. There is a god/dess in everyone and tonight, maybe, just maybe, someone was stopping by to remind me of their regard.

Today I didn’t celebrate May Day the way I would have in the past. Instead I took a subway, a ferry and a car to go to a restaurant with friends. On the way down, the subways were a mess and I had to navigate closures and changes on the lines. I witnessed an amazing amalgamation of the sort of people here in the Big City. The transit workers, the wait staff at the restaurant, my doormen, my friends, people on the street and on the platform…I saw a little bit of everything tonight on what was the most beautiful day we’ve had this Spring.

I sat on the subway on the way home and talked to my friend about energy and how I view the magic of the world around us…and that’s when it hit me…just how much life and magic there is to be found here. It’s just a matter of a change in my perspective on what that means for where I live now.

And then I came home and realized that I had left a candle burning all day long. So in my own, weird way, I kept the fire burning bright for the first of May. (And luckily didn’t burn my apartment down while I was doing it.)

I miss the more natural connection I have when I don’t live here…but here is where I am and to block out everything…well, maybe that misses the point as well.

Anyway…Merry Beltane to those who celebrate. May your night be full of good revelry and hopeful realizations. May your fires burn hot and high and may you forget any grief that you’re carrying. This is a season of joy and I hope that a little bit of magic touches you tonight in the same way it tapped me in passing, just to say hi.

Beltane Traditions

Beltane, Beltain, May Day, Whitsun, White Sunday, Whitsuntide, Walpurgis, Floralia: whichever you want to call it, May Day has a long history of folkloric and Pagan traditions.

Traditionally celebrated when the first white flowering trees are blooming (in England this is the Hawthorne, in Ireland the Rowan and here in the US, either the Dogwood or the Magnolia), it is the springtime celebration of fertility, love, passion, fire and creativity. This is the sabbat that really embodies all of the sexuality that Paganism is known for.A day of joy and celebration, May Day celebrates the fertility of the fields and the union of the goddess and the god.

May by escume

Have you ever heard the phrase “Marry in May, rue the day”? It comes from this holiday. Young lovers traditionally danced the bonfire and then went off to the fields to celebrate in the most traditional way possible. If you wound up pregnant from your May Day celebrations, you would get married in June since you could see that your union would be fruitful. If you married in May, before you knew whether or not you were pregnant, it was considered to be bad luck. There were women would end up pregnant after Beltane, but would choose to not get married, and the children that came from these unions would be given last names like Robinson, Hobson or Robson. These babies were thought to be sired by the gods and you will find many people in the UK with these types of last names today.

Robin Goodfellow, Puck, Hob, the Greenman, whatever you want to call him, was considered to be out and about on Beltane Eve, causing mischief for everybody.  Of course, the Bard of Avon has one of my favorite lines about Puck and his mischief on May Day.

FAIRY:
Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Call’d Robin Goodfellow: are not you he
That frights the maidens of the villagery;
Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn;
And sometime make the drink to bear no barm;
Mislead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm?
Those that Hobgoblin call you and sweet Puck,
You do their work, and they shall have good luck:
Are not you he?
PUCK:
Thou speak’st aright;
I am that merry wanderer of the night.
I jest to Oberon and make him smile
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile,
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal:
And sometime lurk I in a gossip’s bowl,
In very likeness of a roasted crab,
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob
And on her wither’d dewlap pour the ale.
The wisest aunt, telling the saddest tale,
Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me;
Then slip I from her bum, down topples she,
And ‘tailor’ cries, and falls into a cough;
And then the whole quire hold their hips and laugh,
And waxen in their mirth and neeze and swear
A merrier hour was never wasted there.
But, room, fairy! here comes Oberon.

Of course, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is supposed to take place on Midsummer or Litha, but it certainly follows the rules of May Day.

The confused lovers lost in the woods, the fairy King and Queen fighting. Titania and Bottom’s transformation and love. Puck’s mischief…

In it, one of Shakespeare’s most beloved plays, England’s most famous woodland characters are brought to life.

The Maypole is probably one of the most famous traditions, though many don’t know the full cycle of the pole itself. At Yule, you choose a tree to bring inside and decorate (and of course this is where the Christmas tree comes from). When Yule is over, you cut off the branches to use for your Imbolc fires. Then the trunk is what is used for the Maypole at Beltane. Set in the ground, long ribbons are tied to the top. These ribbons were traditionally made from the skirts or slips of girls who had begun menstruating for the first time that year, as a symbol of new, feminine fertility. Dyed (and cleaned), these ribbons are then danced around the Maypole by the young men of the village to represent the weaving of male and female energies and to encourage fertility for the fields and for the people. At the next Yule, when a new tree is brought in, the trunk of the old is burned as the Yule log to finish out the full cycle of the year.

My Maypole by SavageArtsVal

Maypoles are beautiful, intricate creations.

On May Day morning, young women are supposed to wash their faces in the morning dew. This is said to keep you young and beautiful

Morris dancing is done on May Day. Morris dancing is one of the oldest folkloric practice done in the British Isles that continues to this day. Men dance with bells on their feet while striking sticks together to awaken the crops. Women dance with garlands and ribbons to welcome in the May.

After World War I, so many men died that the Morris Dance traditions were almost lost. Thanks to the women though, they were not. Since the men were not home to do it, women started dancing the Morris to make sure the tradition continued. Austin John Marshall wrote a tribute to these women dancers and said:

Many of the old ladies who swell the membership lists of Country Dance Societies are 1914/18 war widows, or ladies who have lost fiancés and lovers. Country dancing kept the memory of their young men alive. When Shirley Collins started singing the piece to the tune of The False Bride, the impact was disturbing, for many people in audiences identified with it. Tears were frequent. Now a sharp relevance in contemporary song is one thing but such a pessimistic effect was not what was intended. So when Shirley recorded the song we showed the way the spirit of the generation sacrificed in the mud of France had been caught and brought to life by the new generation born since World War II by concluding with the chorus of the Staines Morris:

Come you young men come along
With your music, dance and song
Bring your lasses in your hands
For ’tis that which love commands
Then to the Maypole haste away
For ’tis now a holiday.

It’s fifty-one springtimes since she was a bride,
But still you may see her at each Whitsuntide
In a dress of white linen and ribbons of green,
As green as her memories of loving.

The feet that were nimble tread carefully now,
As gentle a measure as age do allow,
Through groves of white blossom, by fields of young corn,
Where once she was pledged to her true love.

The fields they are empty, the hedges grow free,
No young men to tend them, or pastures go see.
They’ve gone where the forests of oak trees before
Had gone to be wasted in battle.

Down from their green farmlands and from their loved ones
Marched husbands and brothers and fathers and sons.
There’s a fine roll of honour where the Maypole once was,
And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun.

There’s a row of straight houses in these latter days
Are covering the Downs where the sheep used to graze.
There’s a field of red poppies, a wreath from the Queen.
But the ladies remember at Whitsun,
And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun.

And of course, the most traditional of all celebrations is the act of sex itself. One of my favorite songs, Wild Mountain Thyme, is about making love in the fields. Many modern adaptations of the song get it all wrong and change the words. But traditionally, this song  celebrates going out into the fields with a lover, and if your lover won’t go with you, you will find another with whom to sleep in a bower (shelter) made from newly blooming flowers of the field. I’ve also heard that Wild Mountain Thyme is used as both a type of birth control and an abortificant, depending on the amounts, so the song takes on even more meaning for women and their fertility than we might expect at first glance.

This was traditionally an orgiastic tradition; note the lyrics tell “if my true love will not go, I will surely find another.” While this lyric is often changed to reflect a more modern romanticism, the early celebrations of Beltane held that young people would wander the fields in the dark of night, entering each others’ bowers while enjoying the presence of the Gods of fertility and spring.

So tonight, drink some May Wine (my recipe found here), find a lover and celebrate in true traditional fashion.

An Auspicious Day for May Wine

I always feel bad for the dragon.

I just wanted to wish everyone a Happy St. George’s Day. Not for Saint George, who I don’t particularly care for, but because St. George’s Day was the Day that Edward the Third announced the creation of the Order of the Garter in 1348. Some say that The Order of the Garter was created to protect England’s witches. If you want to read more about that, go here.

It is also supposedly the day that Brian Boru defeated the Vikings at Clontarf and died.  (Let us weep a few tears in memory).

Did anyone else read these books? I know they’re terrible, but I love them.

Also, William Shakespeare was born.

A day like today definitely calls for some May Wine…never too early to start with these sorts of things! (Traditionally this is made for May Day or Beltane, but…we’re almost there, right?)

May Wine Recipe:

1 bottle Riesling

1/2 cup dried Woodruff

1 cup diced strawberries

In a pitcher, combine the bottle of wine and the woodruff. Let sit for an hour and then add in the strawberries. Serve.