Morgan – The Priestess Born of Old Souls

 

Yesterday had me revisiting lives that ghosted my memory for centuries. Cave and stone and earth. Priestess born of old souls. I heard my name sang on the wind – not mine and yet so much my own. “Morgan, Morgan, Morgan. Remember.”

There were candles and concave scrying pools. Ornate chairs that felt like thrones. Ceremony, ritual – sacred and reverent. There was a connection with Gaia – with God – with every living thing. Even in the dying, we sang as we washed and prepared our own for their next evolution to the hereafter. We believed in the stars, in trance, and in prophecy. While we celebrated birth, we honored the dead as they would guide our steps as we journeyed through this life and the next. We made offerings to the ancestors and to the land.

And then I mourned.

For we have become so disconnected and so disembodied from who we once were. No longer is ceremony held to honor our past while celebrating our future. No more Beltane fires lit for rites of passage. No more hunting parties that pray and give thanks while the community gathers. No more do we grieve and morn and wail. We say our goodbyes and then pass our loved ones into the hands of another. No more living by the waxing and waning moon nor the cyclical rhythms of nature.

And as Lammas approaches, I find myself wanting to braid dough and celebrate the first of the three harvests. The bounty and energy of Lugh, of the Sun, is now beginning to wane. It is a time of change and shift. Active growth is slowing down and the darker days of winter and reflection are beckoning…

At Lammas the Goddess is in Her aspect as Grain Mother, Harvest Mother, Harvest Queen, Earth Mother, Ceres and Demeter. Demeter, as Corn Mother, represents the ripe corn of this year’s harvest and Her daughter Kore/Persephone represents the grain – the seed which drops back deep into the dark earth, hidden throughout the winter, and re-appears in the spring as new growth. This is the deep core meaning of Lammas and comes in different guises. The fullness and fulfillment of the present harvest already holds at its very heart the seed of all future harvests. (It is a fact that a pregnant woman carrying her as yet unborn daughter is also already carrying the ovary containing all the eggs her daughter will ever release – she is already both mother, grandmother and beyond, embodying the great Motherline – pure magic and mystery.)

So as the grain harvest is gathered in, there is food to feed the community through the winter and within that harvest is the seed of next year’s rebirth, regeneration and harvest. The Grain Mother is ripe and full, heavily pregnant she carries the seed of the new year’s Sun God within her. There is tension here. For the Sun God, the God of the Harvest, the Green Man – surrenders his life with the cutting of the corn.

And I wonder, what sacrifices and offerings have we now made with the land, with the spirits of old, our ancestors, with Gaia, and with God. For truly, we must reap what we sow…

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