Autumnal Equinox: Harvest Home

Today is the Autumnal Equinox, known to many as the holiday of Mabon. Twice during a calendar year the hours of light and dark briefly stand poised in almost perfect balance. Each Equinox is a sort of gateway to the next phase – in spring we are anxiously awaiting the lengthening hours of light as they grow each day after Ostara, and now at Mabon we are greeting the darkness; the cool refreshing nights of autumn are a welcome respite after the summer’s long hot days. These astronomical moments are opportunities for greater awareness, giving us a chance to take note and experience the subtle seasonal transitions, helping us to live in closer harmony with the earth . A change is coming – you can feel a palpable difference in the air. The quality of light has transformed, somehow the general energy around us seems altered. Animals and wild creatures of all kinds feel it too and are moving in earnest now, scurrying about getting ready for the not so distant cold months to come, or perhaps leaving these northern lands for warmer climes. And yet even with this burst of activity nature will soon grow more quiet and subdued day by day.

The name Mabon is Welsh and thought to generally translate as “youth” or “child of Modron”, the Mother. It is also a character’s name from the collection of stories known as the Mabinogion. These renowned sagas may have received the title Mabinogion from the fairy Goddess, Queen Mab -- making them literally fairy tales. In literature and myth fairies are often a catalyst for the transition from the physical realm to the spiritual one. Not quite human, not quite deity, fairies invite or entice us to undertake a journey to the “otherworld”, providing a symbolic means for sacred exploration and gaining insights or power. This idea of crossing a magical portal or threshold speaks to us of making the transition from light to darkness…from the security of the known to the mystery of the unknown, and this is a poignant reminder that traditionally it is believed the veil between the worlds is starting to thin now as we slowly approach Samhain.

Mabon is the second of the three traditional harvest holidays, Lammas was the first and Samhain will be the last. At Lammas we saw the beginning of the harvest, filled with potential and anticipation…we had a taste of what was hopefully to come. Now at Mabon the harvest is completely upon us; abundance is manifest and manifold. In fact another name for this holiday is Harvest Home. This is a very busy season for farmers and gardeners alike and it can be hard to keep up with Mother Earth’s generous yield. Take a drive on nearby country roads and you’ll see farm stands and markets teeming with a veritable cornucopia of mouthwatering produce and timeless, old fashioned, homemade treats of the season, like ciders, jams, breads, pies and canned preserves. In fact, Cornucopia is another name used for this holiday, representing the horn of plenty.

If the crops were plentiful this was a time of jubilation and great relief for our more subsistent-farming ancestors, and despite the hard work and frantic pace they took time for celebrations and merriment, to express their profound gratitude and share the bounty. With the end of the harvest season in sight, and while deeply thankful for the overflowing tables of autumn, an eye was cast ever so slightly towards winter’s inevitable return and the fallow time of rest and scarcity to come. Though not most of us are not occupied with necessary food production ourselves, we too can celebrate the atmosphere of gratitude and express thanks for all that we have reaped in our lives this past year. We can take time to appreciate the simple things, to enjoy ourselves with friends & family. We too may feel the need to begin drawing nearer to the comfort of our hearths and homes just as our ancestors did before us.

And speaking of blessings, perhaps because they are fleeting these are surely the glory days for our part of the world here in the northeast & midatlantic…gorgeous weather, warm, sun-drenched afternoons with cool, crisp nights. Goldenrod and wild asters dance with Queen Ann’s Lace in the fields and meadows, while pumpkins and chrysanthemums will soon adorn our doorsteps and walkways. Dried cornstalks stand like sentinels guarding suburban lampposts and hearken us back to a more bucolic and rural way of life. The deep greens of summer are just now beginning to fade to warmer golden shades and some of the leaves are starting to change, subtly tinged with amber and russet hues, merely a tease for the breath-taking annual show that will soon wrap a rich tapestry of blazing fall color snuggly around us like a warm blanket on frost bitten mornings.

Trees have such amazing lessons to share. Fall foliage, for instance. Leaves are the food factories for trees, they are transformers taking sunlight and turning it into energy, providing nourishment for the tree’s growth. But due to changes in weather now, in temperature and sunlight, the leaves begin a process of transition. During these autumn days they stop making food and the chlorophyll slowly breaks down. This causes the other colors of pigmentation to be revealed; actually most of these colors were there all along but were concealed by the overwhelming green of chlorophyll. By dropping their summer masks what magnificent splendor is to be unveiled! Every Autumn it seems the forests, hillsides and tree-lined streets become aglow, awash in undulating waves painted with a raucous riot of color, as if each tree was trying to out do the next in awe inspiring beauty. Yet this is in actuality the cyclical dance of dormancy, hibernation, and yes, even of death. Eventually all the pretty leaves fall. When it comes to deciduous trees, as a “crop” of leaves is no longer needed the trees let them go and they fall to the ground where they decay and nourish the soil, becoming part of the never-ending cycle.

But trees also remember. Where the leaf stem is attached there is a special layer of cells that begin to develop now and will eventually sever the connective tissues that fastens each leaf to a branch. That’s why the leaves fall. The tree seals this cut so when the leaf finally does drop a mark or scar is left behind. Imagine that – ostensibly, for every leaf a tree ever held there is a tiny mark. Over the years I’m sure they fade…I’m also sure some marks are more noticeable than others. The journey of life mirrors the spiral dance of falling leaves. Events sculpt us and change us irrevocably. We too are marked in a sense by what happens to us. Whether joyful or tragic, and even after we’ve let go, something of our experience remains imbedded upon our psyche and forms the very essence of whom we are, the sum total of our identity. To loosely quote a Pink Floyd song, which effectively dates me, “All you touch and all you see is all that your life will ever be” The events that color our lives may be perceived by us as either negative or positive but both leave a trace, both equally create a permanent, living archive. Like leaf scars on a tree after the splendor of autumn passes, our lives are wrought from the pattern left behind by each and every experience we have.

Many myths inspired by this season seem to share the common theme of transformation. This is a reflection of the agricultural process of sowing and reaping, of seed to plant to harvested food, and also as a metaphor for the journey of the human soul. Examples are found in the ancient Greek mystery rites commemorating Persephone’s descent into the underworld and the mourning of her grieving mother, Demeter, as well as the many myths of dying vegetation deities such as Bacchus/Dionysus, or the Sumerian Innana slowly being stripped of her worldly possessions as she crosses each gate…Isis of Egypt searching for Her beloved dismembered Osiris, and finally to the Celtic Mabon stolen from his mother Modron. These stories share in common a death and resurrection scenario, whether literal or symbolic, that results in an obliteration of the former self and a type of rebirth of the newly transformed self. It is no accident that in many instances this is initiated by a descent into the earth. That is symbolically a return to the womb. But unlike the uterus of mortal birth, this is the sacred womb of the Goddess and indicates that this shall be no ordinary physical birth, but a means of spiritual delivery. Like seeds buried in the earth to be born again as another year’s harvest, when we delve deep within and connect with our personal truths we can bring forth a new beginning, a new perspective, we touch that divine inner core and renew our sense of self.

Throughout the course of our lives there are defining moments. These are events that shape us in important ways. They are different for all of us. From our first day of school to the first time we make love; from nurturing children or careers, to the creation of friendships or works of art – all these can be watershed moments and define who we are. Sometimes we recognize a defining moment as it’s happening, other times it’s only in retrospect that we see the significance and realize the major effect it had on us. Sometimes these things happen spontaneously, sometimes we create defining moments, we willingly direct ourselves to the crossroads. Random events can be turned into defining moments by seeing them as opportunities for growth and evolution. We can take a mistake, an insurmountable challenge, an apparent failure even, and turn it into a pivotal moment that rather than defeats us, enriches & teaches us. Transformation is in many ways neutral. Change may be neither good nor bad. Our personal interpretation is what determines the final perception.

Whether or not you believe we have control over what befalls us in the greater scheme of things – we do unequivocally control how we experience, how we participate in our own lives. While we may or may not get to actively influence what specifically takes place, we do ultimately, definitively choose in the end how these events transform us. We decide the way that each and every transformation is expressed upon the canvass of our life, we posses the palate and create our own design. This realization, this understanding of our powerful sense of perception may be the very epitome of achieving a state of grace. It all boils down to awareness & choice. Like the ancient saying basically says, “the wine of divine grace is limitless, all boundaries exist within the cup”…we put our own restrictions on transcendence…in other words, the cup is of our own design.

May your cup never be empty, and may you always taste the sweetness of it’s contents.