An Unusual Harvest

Today is Lughnasadh, or Lammas, in the northern hemisphere. On the Celtic calendar, it is the cross quarter holiday that marks the midpoint between the summer solstice and the autumn equinox. When we lived in farming communities, it was considered the first harvest.

Since some of us were born with brown thumbs and outside of farming communities, as many do in the current era, we can still find value in these calendar pages through the power of metaphor. And so, once again, I ask… What’s in your harvest?

My Sacred Gardeners and I met in February for the annual workshop on intention setting. At Imbolc, we planted our figurative seeds of intention. Even with a brown thumb, intentions can grow when nurtured with mindfulness and attention.

We anticipated gathering again at the end of March, for the Spring Equinox, and even had a Beltaine retreat planned in my beloved Blue Ridge Mountains. It was to be a weekend dedicated to falling in love with ourselves, right down to a commitment ceremony with rings and circlets of flowers for our heads.

But sometimes, something happens in life that takes our attention away from the garden. A loved one dies, a job is lost, the path forward becomes less clear and uncertainty enters like a thick fog. 2020 has certainly been that kind of a year, ten-fold.

But every eight weeks, the wheel of the year turns to remind us to come back to the cycles of nature. Everything changes. All life is temporary. We remember that though these days are challenging, frustrating, disappointing, sad… they, too, are temporary. This pandemic will come to an end. This physical distancing from those we love will come to an end. This financial insecurity and horrific failure of leadership will come to an end. In the meantime, we are free to set our fears and worries aside, to come back to our gardens of intention.

So… this would be the time of year, the midpoint Imbolc and Winter Solstice, to assess the status of our intentions. What is ready to be harvested and stored to sustain us through the long winter? When I look back at my own lifechart completed with my gardeners, I can reflect on the key words I chose to adorn my candle of intention.

I realize that what I might have pictured to be a result of these intentions may not have manifested in the ways I had intended, but I can usually see that the Universe conspired to bring them to fruition in glorious and unexpected ways. The beauty of the garden is always found in the eyes of the beholder. One gardener may prefer something tediously manicured, while another may delight in allowing Mother Nature to do Her own thing.

What I have found is that my word for the year is RECIPROCITY. and I have found it in the ways that love is offered and returned, as friends and community respect and care for one another. We wear masks, we connect by phone, text, and Zoom. We don’t take personally the necessity of our distancing. We do what we can to deliver kindness, compassion, and togetherness in new and innovative ways.

I wanted to EMBODY TRUST. Which was not just to be the friend and daughter that those I love could depend on to hold their truth with gentle reverence, but that I would do the same for myself. That I would trust myself completely. That I would hear the sacred voice of my own intuition, and never doubt it.

I intended to continue to HEAL AND GROW this year, and I certainly have. Gratefully, much of this work can be done out in the world, but is even more succinct when done in solitude or isolation. In silence and without distractions of others, we can hear the cries of the oppressed, and ask ourselves what we don’t know. How is my silence harmful? How might I do better and be better as a trusted friend and ally? Oh, yes! I have learned so much… and I am still learning.

To CULTIVATE JOY was an intention, and I can see the many ways this has grown. Right before our world shut down, I was reunited with the boss who loved me, at the occasion of her son’s wedding. When he later wrote me, he said that it was so obvious to him how much she and I loved and cared for each other. And even though that was the last time I’ve gathered in a room with others… I have continued to find joy in the beautiful moments of each and every day… in a brief chat with a neighbor, having a giggle with my parents, witnessing the bats fly over my head as I walk home from tucking them in. So much delight can be found in living a small and simple life.

I wanted my year to be GROUNDED IN LOVE, and though there are many days when anger and outrage rise to greet the news of the day, it is always love that grounds me. Primarily, self-love. Each time I enter my home, after caring for my parents or doing the bi-weekly grocery run, I greet my kitties, and I walk through a mist of homemade balancing spray. As I do, I feel my shoulders drop, and my whole body relaxes. I can feel my roots reconnect to the earth through my sanctuary of home, and all is right with the world.

The final word on my candle of intention makes me laugh. Ganesha, the remover of obstacles, always reminds me to be careful what you wish for. The word is RETREAT. Well… my intention was to host TWO retreats this year, in those sacred mountains. At first, we thought we would just lose the opportunity in May, but now… as my home state has skyrocketing Covid cases, it is clear that none of us will be traveling in October, either. But still… this intention surely did manifest. Just… not as imagined.

We have retreated into our homes, to keep our loved ones safe. I am in a daily retreat, really, as each day when I return from caring for my parents, I enter my home, and come back into myself… each day a little deeper. I can remember hearing about silent retreats or going on retreat alone, and thinking it had no appeal. And yet, I have found myself here over and over again, not just this year, but in the two years prior, as I endeavored to create a life beyond the corporate world I’d always known.

What I’ve found here, is that though I may be alone, I love the one I’m with. There is no one I’d rather be secluded with when the world is plagued with a potential plague. That’s kind of a pleasant surprise, for the girl who searched long and hard for a love she deserved… to have found it within herself.

Finally, all of these intentions manifested in the form of a new kind of togetherness. With our worlds becoming so small, during self-isolation and continued extreme caution until a vaccine can be discovered and broadly shared, some of us have chosen to see more of each other. Since March, I have been virtually meeting weekly with a Thursday night group of International friends from a course we took together, a weekly Friday night group of intuitive friends, a Saturday morning group with my Sacred Gardeners, and a Sunday night group with my goddesses.

So, I no longer meet people for lunch, but I do take an occasional masked-walk with a friend, with a hip-bump greeting instead of a hug. I write random letters and send them the old fashioned way, in the mail. My friend, who lives on the opposite corner of the country, and I have become pen pals, and last week she sent me sealing wax and a spoon for melting – so our letters are both sealed with more than just love.

I don’t know what I thought I’d find when I decided to walk through my garden of intentions, but I have to say, I’m pretty darned pleased with what I’ve found here. I allowed Mother Nature to do her thing, and as always, she has WOWed me beyond belief.

I hope that you and yours are safe and well. I hope that despite the unexpected twists and turns of an unusual and extraordinary year, it has been kinder to you than realized. I hope that your personal harvest is filled with light, love, and laughter that nourishes, nurtures, and sustains you throughout the coming seasons. Thank you for walking this path with me. I love you more.