Summer is summering. Harvest season is here. These are the days of Summer’s peak. Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s a playful tug on a soul string. Maybe it’s a desire to soak up the afternoon sun and not do much. Maybe it’s the call of the ocean, or the mountains, or an outdoor concert under the stars. Or maybe it’s the feeling that you’re meant to be out playing but you’re working too darn hard, indoors, and your skin wants some sunshine, and you’re feeling cranky. How is the climax of this summer moving through you? 

This is the time when our travels around the sun begin to show a shift in light and color. Yellow replaces green, the sun sets noticeably earlier, and while hot, the air has its ways of reminding us that from where we stand we can see Autumn. How does your body receive this moment, as the season begins to transition? 

I always get a little blue when August arrives. Watermelon flavor and sandy feet and all, the free spirit feeling of Summer is painted over with a September that seems too close for comfort, even as an adult. The sensation in the body that announces that Fall is around the corner has a beautiful, sad sentiment, filled with wanting to hold on to something so precious, and knowing that I can’t. Summer is sacred. It was when I was a kid. It still is now as a mama. I see them dramatically changed each Summer, and I know that when the next one arrives the kids will be a year older, and I will be too. It adds an extra dose of sentimental sauce.  

In the Celtic tradition, and in any pagan tradition that follows the Wheel Of The Year, the beginning of August marks the middle of Summer, when the First Harvest is Celebrated as the holiday of Lughnasadh, or Lammas. It is most commonly celebrated July 31st – August 2nd. Some people like to celebrate on the actual midpoint between Summer Solstice and Fall Equinox (usually around August 5th). Others celebrate the Lunar Lughnasadh during the Full Moon in Aquarius that is closest to the Solar holiday. 

Lugh, who this holiday is named after, was a Celtic warrior deity of justice, oathkeeping, truth, and order, as well as craftsmanship and poetry. His foster mother was Tailtiu, a Celtic earth goddess, who worked too hard at clearing the land for agriculture, and died of exhaustion. Lugh grieves her death, and calls for a fabulous feast and a colossal celebration of her life, with music and dance and games. 

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This festival also celebrates the love of the Grain Goddess, goddess of the earth, as she grieves her lover, the Sun god, whose power is waning. She stands in her fullness, in her bounty, steeped in generosity, filled with sustenance to share with all. And while the Sun is still powerful, he begins his preparation for death.  

This time of year can be a deep honoring of life, which is never without death – a complex, ever breaking wholeness, filled with the inseparable forces of love and grief.  

This is the time when the grain is harvested. It is a bread baking and bread breaking holiday. It’s an invitation to gather and to feast. It is a celebration of nature’s abundance of nourishment, and culture’s cultivation of food. 

I hear this moment as a call to create a deeper relationship between what happens naturally and what is intentionally cultivated. I feel it as a thread that weaves together the wildness that has been taken down by patriarchy, as well as the importance of civilization. 

Civilization is a loaded word. The word “uncivilized” has been used by White Supremacy to degrade, disregard, demonize, and dehumanize anyone who doesn’t fit into the cisgender, straight, white male category. Inferior. Savage. Undomesticated. The earth itself has been disrespected and destroyed by the so called civilized. 

It doesn’t take much more than a quick observation of our world today to see that some people have forgotten about being civil. There are way too many examples. Oh my! Oy vey! Oy Gevalt! 

There is both shadow and light and all the colors of the rainbow in that which is untamed, as well as in that which is well planned, thoughtfully refined, and carefully manicured. 

The inner workings of our mind-heart spaces need freedom  as well as tenacious training, structures as well as aimless wandering.

I often find that being a parent is walking that very tightrope. My children aren’t mine. But they are my responsibility. They are not mine to shape, but being their first guide on their journey of life is my job. They need a safe space to express, to rebel, to mess up, to melt down. And they need to know that their behavior affects others. They need time to play, to be carefree, to roam in the wilderness of their imagination. And they need to pick up their toys and art supplies at the end of the day, and help to clear the table after a meal. They need to learn to listen to themselves, and they need to learn to listen to others too. It is such a delicate line to keep navigating. 

The last thing the world needs is more uneducated, vulgar selfishness, lawless, self absorbed narcissism. And we need a splash of feral flavor, with a pinch of disobedience, and a willingness to disrupt the status quo.

We need to take care of ourselves. AND we need to take care of each other. 

I often think of The Ant And The Cricket fable during this time of year. I think of the ant’s hard work and how society rewards it, how even in the Summer months the ant never stops. We’re given the message that work is more important than fun, that taking care of the future is more important than the present, that being a soldier in the workforce is a noble life purpose. Hello capitalism. Do you think when Winter comes and the hungry cricket knocks on her door she is resting, watching netflix, eating popcorn, drinking tea, and cuddling under a blanket? I don’t think so. The ant is cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, washing dishes, answering emails, paying bills, and fixing the broken drawer, the leaking pipe, and the crack on the floor. Again. 

I find it interesting that the cricket, who knows how to love life, how to write poetry, how to play music, how to sing about the season, and revel in sunsets, and dance with a heart full of inspiration, is criticized so relentlessly. 

In some versions of the story, the ant keeps the cricket out and lets him starve to death. After all, he played music all Summer while she was working hard at gathering food. Maybe he had too much fun watching the sunsets and being inspired all the time. Maybe he even teased her about not knowing how to relax. Why should she help him now? 

In my version, the ant lets the cricket in and offers him some food. I like to think that she shares a meal with him, and it is nourishing and delicious. Later he teaches her how to play guitar. Maybe he rolls a little joint, or offers her the very first edible she’s ever tried. It’s a hybrid strain, and she can chill out a bit, but still get some things done, and she laughs, and is visited by muse. She might not be a singer songwriter like he is, but her heart opens up. After all, what would this world be without art? 

Maybe she teaches him how to make amazing food, and finds a way into his artist soul through the art of cooking. Maybe he explains how music requires a lot of practice, hard work, deep listening, and willpower. 

Harvest itself is hard work, and it is a result of contentious hard work. It is also an opportunity to enjoy, to delight in sunlight and yummy food, to receive life’s deliciousness, and to gather what we’ve grown and celebrate it. It invites us to share with others – each our own nature, our own talents, each our own gifts to offer. It is time to relish the moment, AND to take care of the future. It is a call into the importance of inspiration, and into the dedication that is required for Muse to move into the canvas, the instrument, the page. It is an invitation to make how we live our lives into a form of art. 

Actualize abundance and collaborate with the energy of Summer’s peak, and join us for the Lughnasadh somatic Ceremony! Get grounded, receptive, and generative through a powerful, in depth, muse-filled ritual. Move your body and your breath in ways that support your life, and integrate an inspired, intentional movement into your day-to-day living through this seasonal ceremony. 

Reach out if you have any questions. And please share this piece with your people!

Happy days of harvest to you, my friend. 

XOXO
Hagar