Call me a miserable old bag but this is not my favourite time of
year.
Yes, I appreciate the beauty of a misty autumnal morning or the warm
balmy Indian summers that we enjoy in the UK, but for me, these don't make up
for the shroud of darkness that creeps over us as the season takes hold. In
fact, it's the shortening days that get to me more than the weather (which can
be appalling at any time of year). As sunset times get earlier, so we have to
cram all our outdoor activities, like walking the dog, into fewer and fewer
hours. Our children trudge home from after-school clubs in the dark. The bike
lights and reflective gear come out. The washing lines come down and the tumble
dryer wakes up from its summer hibernation and trundles away, adding to the
sounds of the rediscovered central heating.
By the end of October, when the clocks go back, the darkness is really
upon us, and although we still have a way to go until the winter solstice in
December, for me, this is the most depressing time, for which an extra hour in
bed is no compensation. In fact, by the time we do reach the shortest day, I'm
starting to feel a bit more hopeful, and even those dreadful dark mornings of
January hold a tinge of optimism as I know the tide has turned and the light is
coming back.
It seems as if I'm suffering from some kind of displaced seasonal
affective disorder until you look at the pagan wheel of the year. The end of October marks the
midpoint between the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice and is observed by
the festival of Samhain. The pagan legend goes that at this time, the Green Man
dies and the Goddess, his mother, goes into deep mourning for her lost son. It signifies the start of the dark half of the year and is a sombre occasion.
But the mood changes at the winter solstice, where pagans celebrate 'Yule', the
rebirth of the sun, with lights and decorations of mistletoe, holly, ivy and
evergreens. It is a joyous time where people get together to eat and drink and
exchange gifts to celebrate. Sounds familiar? It is no coincidence that
Christians have taken over this occasion for the celebration of the birth of
their son and used pretty much all the pagan traditions to do so. I mean, why
else would the birth of the son of God be marked by a fir tree covered in
lights and shiny things?
And going back to Samhain, the time of mourning the dead, pagans believe
that this is a time when the barrier between the living and the dead is at its
thinnest, and they hold seances to communicate with the deceased.
Unsurprisingly, this is exactly the same time that Christians celebrate All
Saints' Eve (Halloween) and All Saints Day: a time where the bond between those
in heaven and on earth is honoured. But it is more as a result of the pagan
origins that children dress up as ghosts and go trick-or-treating.
This is not the only annual pagan event that Christianity has used for
its own end. Easter is the other big one. The word 'Easter' comes from 'Ostara'
or 'Eostre', the festival that occurs at the spring equinox in March. It is, in
fact, where the word 'Estrogen', the female sex hormone, comes from.
Christians celebrate the rising of Christ from the grave, but in fact, it is a time
of celebrating the rising fertility of the earth and its creatures. That's what
all the eggs and bunnies are about!
There are other pagan festivals that Christians have taken over for their less significant events.
Imbalc, in February, marks the first signs of life by honouring the Goddess
Brigid, which Christians have made St Bridget. And, of course, we have St
Valentine at that time too. Then there is Mabon, a time of celebrating the
harvest and making preparations for the winter, that has become the Christian
harvest festival. Beltane, on Mayday, which honours life, also appears in the
Christian calendar. In fact, of the eight pagan wheel-of-the-year events,
Christianity has annexed six!
I'm guessing the reason for this is that at the time Christians were
imposing their faith on Europe, most people held pagan beliefs, and it was
easier to get them to accept the new faith if it was latched onto existing
customs. A bit like hiding peas inside ketchup to get your child to eat them.
One can only imagine the political wheeling and dealing that went on amongst
the hierarchy of both camps and the obliviousness of the poor people whose
lives were affected.
This takeover, I think, has been made all the more effective by tapping
into our natural annual rhythms that the pagans illustrate so poetically with
their legends. We may not all feel as cheesed off as I do in the autumn, but
many of us have a rising sense of wellbeing in the springtime. I think we are
all, to some extent emotionally tuned in to the seasonal changes. What better
occasions to garner people's spiritual allegiance than when they're naturally
inclined to be feeling that way anyway? Clever. Even the times of day that
religions like to worship – morning and evening – are the same as those that
pre or non-religious people used as a time for reflection, as the rising and
setting of the sun were considered to be moments of great significance.
So, as I watch the daylight hours get shorter and race around to get
things done before it gets dark and find something for my bored children to do
in the long evenings, I look forward to Yuletide, when the sun stands still and
then slowly starts its journey back to us, and hope that one day, these
beautiful and meaningful events, which already exist within us, will be widely
embraced, regardless of faith.
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