Five Reasons I *Heart* the Wheel of the Year

I don’t care for Litha, I’m confused by Mabon and I’m not feeling Brigid on Imbolc. So why do I follow the Wheel of the Year?

The Neopagan Wheel of the Year isn’t without its problems. Being that the Wheel is based off of the climate and seasonal patterns of Britain it can be a weird fit that requires some tailoring for Pagans outside of Europe. And sometimes Sabbats can feel repetitive and sometimes even empty. But I think this is due to the fact that the Wheel is still in its developmental stages. As the Pagan community settles, I think the Wheel of the Year will too. But even with its issues I still very much like the calendar and here’s why:

#1 Attachment.

This is probably the worst reason. I promise my reasons will get better as I go along. I’ve been observing the Wheel of the Year for a little over a decade and I have become rather attached to it. During this time I have put a lot of thought into the Wheel, what it means to me, and how it relates to my local climate. For the most part I feel settled in my understanding of the Wheel of the Year, and I have no motivation to start this process all over again with another Pagan holy calendar.

#2 The Wheel links me to the rest of the Pagan Community

Being a Pagan can be isolating at times, and worshiping an obscure pantheon adds to that feeling even more. But there’s one way I can feel connected to the majority of the Pagan community, and that’s through the Wheel of the Year. While it is true that not all Pagans observe the Wheel, I feel it safe to say that most do. Based on their traditions Pagans may call the sacred days by a different name, or even celebrate different things. Wiccans and Wiccanesque Pagans celebrate the Dance of the God and Goddess. Celts and Norse Pagans celebrate the deities of their pantheons. And Eclectic celebrate whatever they feel called to celebrate. But with all these different takes on the Sacred Days, I have noticed that there are themes that tend to be present in all the different interpretations. For example, no matter the path followed, Gods honored, or the name given to the day, most Pagans are still celebrating Spring around March 21, the harvest on August 1, the rebirth of the Sun around December 21, etc.

#3 It’s Modern

There has never been another time in history that the Wheel has been followed like it is today by Modern Pagans. Although some of the holidays on the Wheel are legit old (although there is some controversy around whether these holidays are ancient Celtic and Norse, or Medieval Christian) the combination of holidays and the days in which they are celebrated is a modern invention. To some this would be a liability, but I think it’s great. I am a modern person, with a modern view of the world. I like having a Holy Calendar that was created by someone also with a modern outlook, which marks the seasons in a way modern people understand them.

#4 Natural Holidays

Half of the Sabbats (Ostara, Litha, Mabon, and Yule) mark natural phenomenon. These holidays do not need any mythology or dogma attached to them to make them special. They are special because they mark the season. They are special because they mark the important points of the Earth’s yearly progress around the Sun. These days would be special whether humans existed or not, they are quite literally Natural Holidays. And I think that’s cool.

#5 The Wheel of the Year is much more than a Holy Calendar

In my opinion the Wheel of the Year is a religious rite in its own right (no pun intend). In Wicca and Wiccanesque Paganism the purpose of celebrating the Sabbats is to attune oneself to nature. Eight times a year the Wheel encourages us to take a moment, look around and notice what’s happening in the landscape around us. The Wheel also asked us to take notice of how the seasons affect us personally. The Wheel reminds us not only that we are connected to the Earth, but also how we are connected to Her. On a personal note, I have noticed that by following the Wheel of the Year, I have become more sensitive to the energies unique to each part of the year and the energetic changes that occurs between the shifting of the season.

Litha… Nope, not a fan…

Photo from Wikipedia.org. Silver Nightshade. Don’t let the pretty purple flowers fool you, this plant is pure evil.

Litha or the Summer Solstice is probably the hardest Sabbat for me to get excited about. In fact, I’m so unenthusiastic about this holiday that I often forget to celebrate it. In some parts of the country Litha is means reasonable weather, comfortably sunny days, and a green landscape full of life. Well it’s never really green in the desert. Kinda greenish is a better description for the landscape during late winter through early autumn here. And by June 21 the weather has most likely been hot for at least a month already.

We in Central New Mexico have been blessed with a really wet year. This Spring instead of lots of wind and lots of sand being blown around, we got lots of wind and lots of rain. Which kept both the sand and temperatures down. For the first time in years I actually got to experience a stereotypical spring. Which was pretty great. But then June came, and the whole raining every other day thing stopped and the weather went back to it’s regularly scheduled programming. Which means lots of heat.

I really probably shouldn’t complain. It really could be worse. The high altitude does keep the heat in check, and most days during the dry part of the summer have temperatures hanging around the 80’s and 90’s. Which really isn’t much worse than some other southern parts of the country. And unlike other parts of the southern US (like Texas) we don’t have to worry about 80-100+ degrees with 100% humidity. On those few days we do hit a 100 it’s a news worthy event. And that usually happens mid to late June, right around Litha.

Litha to me means oppressive heat, overwhelming dryness, and a searing sun. And brush fires, lets not forget brush fires and fire bans. Litha means that the wild grasses that sprang to life in my backyard during the late winter and early spring have long since died and have been replace by plants that can handle a full blown desert summer. Which are mostly silver nightshade and other plants with lots of thorns or that produce lots of stickers. My garden is able to survive the dry part of summer, but require a lot of attention. If I neglect my garden during this time of the year even for a couple days, it spells certain death for most of my plants. June in New Mexico is just something I can’t have much love for.

I still feel like I should do something to mark the Summer Solstice though. I might take some inspiration from Natib Qadish’s Ashuru Zabi and banish the negative aspects of the summer by creating and burning an effigy of Mot, the Canaanite god of death, drought and sterility.

Note:  Okay, I realize this is probably my third post complaining about a Sabbat.  Which will lead some people to think “why is this woman even bothering with the Wheel of the Year?”  Believe me as much a I complain, I actually have a lot of love for the Wiccan/Neopagan Sabbats, and consider the Wheel to be a very important part of my path.  I will have to write more about this in a future post.

Candlemas: When You’re Just Not that into Bridget

I don’t have any problems with Bridget.  She seems like a perfectly lovely goddess, but it was made clear to me long ago that she’s not mine. While I can appreciate the beauty of Celtic culture, I’ve never clicked with its mythology or its gods. Because I don’t work with Celtic gods my Candlemases (plural form of Candlemas?) are pretty much void of Bridget dolls, Bridget crosses and ewes. Recently I learned that Candlemas isn’t just a Christianized version of Imbolc, but a holiday with it’s own pre-Christian history.  So I no longer have to feel guilty or weird about not being able to get into the Bridget spirit on Feb 2nd.

I know I can’t be the only one who goes, “Bridget?” (shrugs) when everyone else is cheering “It’s Imbolc, Yay Bridget!” If you’re on the same boat and are looking for ideas on celebrating Candlemas/Imbolc that don’t have much to do with Celtic deities or ewes, here are my suggestions. Note: When I was a newbie pagan an acquaintance of mine mentioned that she focused on family and the hearth on Imbolc. This stuck with me. To me this sabbat is about Family, the Domestic realm and Purification, so my list reflects this.

• Cook an Imbolc/Candlemas inspired menu.

• Skip the public rituals and instead spend the holiday with family and close friends at home.

• Deep clean, de-clutter, cleanse, bless and ward your house.

• If you have the skill, make household repairs.

• Celebrate deities and/or spirits of the domestic realm, and ask that they bless your home.

• Celebrate fire goddesses.

• If you have brought something into the new year that no longer serves you, dump it on Candlemas while the year is still young.

• If you have already dropped your new year resolution use this Sabbat as a chance to give it another go.

• Take a cleansing bath.

• Make candles, perfumed oils and magical/ritual waters.

• Plan this year’s garden (if you have one).

My Autumn Equinox Weirdness

I’m an autumn baby, therefore it’s safe to assume that I love fall. I really do. I get so excited the first morning I wake up craving soup. When I’m a hankering for soup that means fall’s right around the corner. I, like many pagans feel the most spiritual during the autumn. There’s just a buzz in the air, it’s hard not to feel spiritual. But even with all the excitement that autumn brings me I have a hard time celebrating the Autumn Equinox. Most years I straight up forget about it.

I love the Wheel of the Year, but sometimes following it can be a little frustrating. Too often themes get repetitive. And some sabbats feel underdeveloped and empty to me, like they’re just there to fill in space. The sabbats I often forget to celebrate are the Spring Equinox, the Summer Solstice and the Autumn Equinox. To me the Spring Equinox feels a little too much like pre-Beltane. The weather in June is some of the hottest, driest, and all around most unpleasant of the year, so I’m just not in a festive mood come the Solstice. And the traditional understanding of the Autumn Equinox feels a lot like Lammas 2.0 to me.

Many Pagans celebrate the Autumn Equinox as the “Witches Thanksgiving,” but my family does our Thanksgiving on Lammas. August 1 is the middle of the monsoon season here. It’s the only time of year we get regular rain in the High Desert where I live. The Monsoon season gives us relief from the oppressively dry summer heat. The rains green the desert floor, and bright wild flower appear and bloom. It’s like a second spring, and with the addition of Lammas’ theme of sacrifice it just makes sense to me to make early August our time of Thanksgiving.  I can’t help but to feel all sorts of thankful during the monsoon season.

So… when the Equinox comes around I’m left scratching my head, shrugging my shoulders and asking myself, “What am I celebrating again?” I really dislike repetitive themes in my personal Wheel of the Year, so while Thanksgiving is certainly a worthy theme of celebration, it’s out for me. And while my path is heavily influenced by Wicca, I am not a duo-theist. I really don’t care about what the Horn God and the Triple Goddess are doing this time of the year, so all themes surrounding the dance between the Wiccan God and Goddess are out too.  I also don’t work with Celtic deities, so the god Mabon isn’t applicable to my celebrations either.

In hopes of solving my issue I have been turning to the Earth. I’ve been asking myself what is this piece of Earth I’m located on doing during this time of year? While I’m writing this the sky is overcast and there’s a chill in the air. But I know the temperature very well might spike back up into the 80’s or at least the 70’s during the day once this weather front passes. The leaves on the trees have not yet started to turn, and the wild flowers are still in bloom. It very much feels like the last hurrah. The final days of the monsoon season. The final days of t-shirt and flip flop weather. And the final weeks of growth in the plant kingdom before the first frost of mid October arrives bringing infertility to the land.

The last hurrah, the tipping of the scales towards the darkness, the beginning of the Descent, a rush of activity and excitement before the calm, chilaxing and retreating within. That seems like enough to work with.  There’s a little less than a week until the Equinox, hopefully I can come up with a ritual that makes sense to me.