The Story of Lughnasadh:
You are standing in the middle of your little patch, spinning your cone of power. You planted your gardens, both physical and spiritual, a season ago, and the time for the first harvest is here. The harvest of the grain. You raise your arms, remembering the seeds planted at Beltane, nurtured through Litha. Although most have grown and ripened, you notice that others lie dormant, without enough light or love to pull them through. A twinge of guilt threatens, but you squelch it, remembering what your gods have taught you so well: that not all seeds are meant to quicken, that your work truly is good enough, and that all is as it should be in the grand scheme of things. You turn your focus instead to what's immediate, what's real: those things that are growing, those that have blossomed, the successes in your life thus far. You chant a simple chant, raising power.
You have little to request this holiday. So much to be grateful for. You spin the cone, higher and higher, telling your gods with your mind, passion, emotions, body, and spirit that you are grateful, that you have more than enough, and that you want to share it all. Your body catches the rhythm, begins to spin, and sweat pours off of you in the hot summer sun. "All the better," you think, loving the sun, letting him penetrate your skin, your muscle, your bones. Embracing him and all that he means to you, you spin and spin, feeling the Mother filling you from the earth just as the Father pours his light and heat into your body from his place in the sky. With a final shout of praise and thanks, you drop to the ground, panting. The soil is surprisingly cool to the touch, and you run your fingers through it as thoughts swirl around you. You vow to speak to those who mean the most, and express the gratitude you feel for having them in your life, including yourself. You vow, also, to continue to show your love to your gods through your devotionals and prayers, to deepen your commitment to your path and your spiritual life. With these vows, you find and feel lighter, more energetic, less burdened.
"Blessed be," you whisper, then look up at the sky.
You have little to request this holiday. So much to be grateful for. You spin the cone, higher and higher, telling your gods with your mind, passion, emotions, body, and spirit that you are grateful, that you have more than enough, and that you want to share it all. Your body catches the rhythm, begins to spin, and sweat pours off of you in the hot summer sun. "All the better," you think, loving the sun, letting him penetrate your skin, your muscle, your bones. Embracing him and all that he means to you, you spin and spin, feeling the Mother filling you from the earth just as the Father pours his light and heat into your body from his place in the sky. With a final shout of praise and thanks, you drop to the ground, panting. The soil is surprisingly cool to the touch, and you run your fingers through it as thoughts swirl around you. You vow to speak to those who mean the most, and express the gratitude you feel for having them in your life, including yourself. You vow, also, to continue to show your love to your gods through your devotionals and prayers, to deepen your commitment to your path and your spiritual life. With these vows, you find and feel lighter, more energetic, less burdened.
"Blessed be," you whisper, then look up at the sky.
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