Lughnasa and the first of August

Inner markings and makings

I completely missed writing about Summer Solstice.

So now, it is Lughnasa, and the first of August, and I am finally taking pause. Taking stock, focusing my energy and deliberately coming down from the wave I got caught in there.

The wave of traveling to see family, of fulfilling relational obligations, of fulfilling desires and aspirations. There is so much pressure put on the Summer months (weeks?!) here in northern New England. And somehow, one thinks one will have more time and energy to do it all. Yes, days are certainly longer, as in, there is more light. Yet I am pretty sure that stuffing them full is not the best way to hold on to the preciousness of the season. Still, I am grasping onto fulfilling family and friendship obligations as best I can in this stage of my life.

The past 6 weeks or so have been full of driving to be with family. Both sides of my relations place a strong value on family. I have always seen this as a super power. My last grandparent died in late 2022, and this June we gathered for her celebration of life. We came together at a sacred-to-us lake town in NH…my aunts and uncles and cousins came from all over the country, and even farther. Some I hadn’t seen for 25 years. And I probably will not see in person again. I think it was worth it.

What I mean, is that I am actually in awe of the efforts everyone made. And it was a special time, we have a lot of healing to do together.

It just makes me muse on that super power of placing value on family, and home, and how the way we live our modern life is really just depleting that energy, depleting us, as individuals, but most definitely the strength of the family unit.

I live a 4 hour drive away from my parents, my in-laws are only an hour away now. My brother is out of the country, my husband’s brother and kids across the country. We all spend a significant amount of time and money keeping our bonds, continuing relationship, working out the soul weaving. For me, I feel mostly so drawn and desirous to make the trip, to visit. Yet it is also, at least in this stage of life, with two kids, exhausting, sometimes awkward, emotionally charged, and in the end, I always leave with some sadness, and even an almost desperate feeling. Like, did I milk the moments as much as I could have or should have? Did I say what needed to be said? Will it ever be enough? Should it be, at all?

And within this last question is frustration…frustration that for reason of independence, freedom, scarcity, curiosity, fear, and more, we live our daily lives so far apart. Requiring pilgrimage to work through the karma. Frustration because I feel that our combined energy and efforting could be used for things much greater, put towards actions that feel meaningful, and empowering. Into actions that aid each of us in healing some of our most subtle, yet deepest suffering and grief…like the desperation felt at knowing humans are harming the environment beyond repair, resentment about wasting our energy working for someone else’s buck, along with barely being able to have a decent roof over our heads, and nutrient dense foods to eat, and along with this existential feeling of being lost. Not knowing to whom, or which place we belong. Perhaps this is just a very American point of view, as most of our population are immigrants, even if several generations back.

I don’t know much about how the Amish community truly live their lives, but sometimes my husband and I joke that we aim to be ‘MAmish.’ By this we mean another modern form of the leap that the Amish took when they decided they would pause where they were. That what was happening, coming, in culture, society, beliefs etc was not going to sweep them up, and they’d continue living by their core values. In order to do so, they had to sequester themselves, and most of their resources. But this also keeps their resources combined, their energy, their land, their animals, their money. And since they are together, I see that they are quite strong. Less affected when there is a global pandemic. Less affected when there is a market crash, inflation, supply chain issues.

We are actively working on co-creating community, and manifesting land to live on and work and grow with. In doing so, what I see is that we are looking to create family. To establish what I understand, and have been modeled to see, are values that inherently come within a blood family structure, like making decisions that are best for the whole, over the individual. Like valuing and caring for each member, even when they have different skills and gifts to contribute. Like pooling resources for the benefit of the group vision, comfort, safety and other needs. Even sharing a similar worldview, values, or spiritual and religious practices.

Because this is what we have lost by breaking up our blood family (or being broken up by design) over generations; knowledge, skills, wealth, literal physical energy and ability, and belonging. When we are able to come together, the abundance allows us more time to sit with, contemplate, work through and just live through the things I wrote above.

There is less pressure, hopefully, less stress when the responsibility for survival is spread out, and not solely on your own shoulders! And I feel that with this state of abundance, more easily felt when one is supported, allows us to contemplate and work through whatever we need to in these human bodies, here on the Earth, or beyond.

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Lughnasa/Lughnasadh is a celebration of the first harvests. It is also considered to the the first day of Autumn in the Celtic traditions. Here in Vermont, there is a very obvious shift in the weather. Truly, we have not had much of a Summer, as we have had so much rain, yet just this past week, the nights, and mornings, are much cooler. We are wearing sweatshirts and pants, and I am even wearing slippers inside again.

The sound of the breeze through the leaves has changed, crisp already, sharper. The goldenrod is blooming. The crickets and cicadas sing strongly in the fields.

It is a time of subtle, yet obvious shifts. I’m thinking on my own life, the layering of the wheel of the year over my lifespan, and how I am coming up on Lughnasa. I am turning 40 this year, still strong, healthy, starting to receive small harvests from the dedication I have put into my work in the world. Smack in the middle, the fullness of life…and yet (and perhaps this was always my world view, even as a younger child) the edges are sharpened, the painful truth of endings beginning to paint the crown of many things. And at the same time, the ripening is what brings the sweetness, the value, and available nutrition/meaning.

It is also full moon tonight, and the moon, well, it always surprises me with its brightness. I watched it last night for a moment, and it was almost too much. I was afraid I would not be able to sleep if I gazed for too long. I am grateful for a clear sky though, as we haven’t had many.

I am reading about this moon to my kids in our book by Asha Frost “You are the Medicine.” And she writes about this as being called the Full Blackberry Moon in her Anishinaabe tradition. I have also heard of this as the Full Sturgeon Moon, as this is when fish are abundant in north American lakes and the Great Lakes. I can really lean into these images, and the sensory feel of end-of-summer and fruit and fish energy.

My kids and I are celebrating the daily snacks of raspberries, blackberries and black raspberries we find around our yard. These small gifts, seemingly insignificant nutrition or calorie-wise, are some of the most important things in my life. I feel so blessed - I do not take it for granted that my children are able to relate to something wild in nature, so easily right out their front door, in a nurturing, exciting, and sensual way. They are learning that they belong.

I am harvesting handfuls of ripe cherry tomatoes every day. I am making lots of medicine. Particularly more goldenrod oxymel (we flew through it last year!) and also harvesting goldenrod for smoke medicine bundles. I also came across (from another local grower) fresh lavender, and I am making a glycerite, which I mainly use for my kids to help them relax and calm down before bed, or when needed.

Lughnasa is also called “Lammas’ which is just another regional/cultural transformation of the similar reason to celebrate - harvest and abundance! - and associated with baking bread.

I am celebrating this shift subtly. I am saying the words, sharing with my kids as I read the moon stories frm the book, as we sit around the dinner table and celebrate what came from the farm or our gardens. But we did not going to a social gathering this year, nor visit Dreamland or the Stone Temple. Nor have a big fire or dinner party.

I need the slow return to my domestic abode, the grounding back into healthy rhythms. Bed early, wake early. Going to the farm and getting my pick up, making a meal plan. Having time to weed the garden, and catch up with laundry. Going through closets and moving out clothing that no longer fits the weather or the little growing bodies.

To reap the harvest, I must be home.

Recipe below: Rye Chapatis

Rye Chapati Recipe - makes about 8 chapati

1.5 cups Nitty Gritty Wheat Flour (or white whole wheat flour)

1.5 cups Rye flour

1 Tablespoon olive oil

1/2 teaspoon salt

Water to bring together

Turn a heavy bottom pan (ideally cast iron) that is at least 8” across onto medium heat. Do not oil the pan.

Mix all the dry ingredients together in a medium bowl, then add in olive oil. Mash that in with your fingers, disbursing it throughout the flour. Then slowly add cold water as you mixed together with your hand. Knead it on a cutting board as soon as it comes together, being on the dry side is better, you do not want the dough to be sticky.

Put some more flour on the cutting board, and flour and small rolling pin. Make 7 or 8 balls out of the dough and set them either back in the bowl, or on the side of the cutting board if you have room.

Roll out one ball and a time, turning, and even adding a bit more flour as needed to keep it from sticking to the board or rolling pin.

Cook the chapati one at a time in the hot pan. Flipping after 2 or 3 minutes, when the chapati begins to puff. Then it probably only needs another minute on the backside. Put on a clean plate, then add the next one, until you have cooked each chapati individually.

You can eat them dry, along side and curry or soup, or coat them in ghee, yum!