Saturday, 31 August 2013

'August, die she must' - the end of summer

Wild brambles, squash and sunflowers - for me the essence of late summer

On this last day of August, on what has been an extraordinary summer by British standards, I pause to reflect on the changing seasons.

This is quite possibly my favourite time of year. I fall so readily into autumn and appreciate the softening, receptive energy as the earth gets quieter and more still. I am feeling and anticipating that right now.

These late days of summer are so lovely.  I am quite giddy on the soft-toned mellow sunshine, that continues to bless us steadily, gently, constantly, streaming warm love and light through still blue skies.

Because of the continued dry weather, our sacred landscape of Avalon is evermore accessible, my favourite walking paths are uncorrupted by mud and rain, so much so that barefoot walking becomes possible, an imperative even: tender feet are safe on fat cushions of green grass and broad ribbed plantain leaves.

Flowers have bloomed, seeds have set, yet the hedgerows are still vibrant, green, punctuated with sudden bursts of bright berries.

Good foraging is possible: the brambles fruited early in the season and it's now time to look for the much smaller dark purple elderberry, often found higher up in the tree line; one has to be quick as they are much favoured by birds.

Cow parsley produces skeletal mandalas of burnt brown seeds and above them green acorns are swelling in size. Not yet ready to fall. But the cob nuts have and litter urban pavements around Glastonbury, crunching satisfyingly under foot, and are mostly taken by squirrels.

I have not yet seen conkers, horse chestnut fruit, in their spiky punk rocker casing coming down from the trees. Two large empresses on Bulwarks Lane, off Wick Hollow are consistently abundant and I am waiting for them. Their falling usually coincides with one of society's great autumnal markers: 'back to school'.

Yes, so summer is still here, yet on her way out, 'August, die she must'

This is a time of fading, of passing, of ever increasing stillness, of quiet returning to the land and our hearts too. We do well to remember that we too are natural beings, as much as any tree, flower or blade of grass. We are subject to the earth's rythm; our bodies know it and are synchronised to this rythm even though we might seek to override Nature by eating out of season food shipped from far away, by using electric light to lengthen the day.

Such a sweet peace is on its way, which would benefit us to attune to. Here's some help from ayurveda.

- Stay connected to the sun at the joints of the day: observe sunset and sunrise to support circadian rythms and promote restful sleep

- Eat seasonal food: cooked with gentle spices that that boost digestive fire as the weakening sun weakens our digestion accordingly.

- Introduce oils to bodycare: warmed sesame to feet and wrists will help pacify vata aggravation that is around the corner at autumn equinox.

- Slow down, or build pauses for rest and contemplation into your day, again harmonising with the slowing of growth in the natural world.

-As we prepare for harvest time, harvest the good that we have received this summer; reflect upon and store happy memories and give thanks!

-Prepare yourself psychologically for a change, the loss of summer for many feels like a death, but we can look ahead to rich texture of autumn with its possibilities for increased comfort, warm, and nurture.

Be well
Jennifer

Saturday, 3 August 2013

Breaking bread and meeting the Jesus Deck

Street entrance to the Chapel

Yesterday I attended a friendly celebration of Lammas, first harvest, held in the tiny, virtually hidden chapel of St Margaret and Mary Magdalene here in Glastonbury.

When I arrived, Diana, the minister was in a bit of a flap, as she described it, she was experiencing,  "Oven malarky".

She, her volunteers and visitors had been symbolically kneading and shaping bread dough by hand, but the oven, specially purchased for the event, had tragically failed to perform due to  electrical malfunction.



 

Resolute, undeterred, Diana was making arrangements by telephone to use the oven at St Benedict's close by, but was gracious enough to pause and welcome me with warmth, interest and personal attention.
 
View of chapel and garden
I had dual motives for visiting, I liked the idea of a small scale ceremony in such an intimate and private feeling space, that is very much my mood these days.

And I was intrigued by a note on the chapel's facebook page:

'At a loose end on friday afternoon? Come and join us. There may well be some Jesus Deck reading as well.'

Jesus deck readings!?  

I needed to know more, and rummaged around online for some background information on the deck, which is a reprint of an original edition from 1972.


Diana led me along the short length of the chapel lawn, bordered by stunningly well attended flowering plants; it felt to me to be one of the most beautiful and balanced gardens in Glastonbury. The rear bench grants a generous view of the chapel and a true sense of seclusion and safety, though we were only yards away from  a heavily trafficked main road.

Sample card
I could have simply sat and absorbed the bliss of my surroundings, but Diana had the Jesus Deck with her and talked me through it: essentially a summarised pictoral representation of the life of Jesus. A format of 52 cards, divided between the four apostles, plus two 'jokers'.

Diana explained that she didnt perceive the cards to have a divinatory function, but that she did give 'readings' whereby would invite a person to select a card and give a commentary on the episode of the Christ story in question, and that maybe this would be helpful in assisting that person with any current life situations.



She performed this service for me. It was helpful and the card I selected felt pertinent and meaningful. Diana found significance in the colours and imagery and this gave almost a Jungian flavour to her commentary. We discussed my spiritual journey, the cosmopolitan composition of the Glastonbury community and I received a personal prayer.

Symbol of the first harvest
The bread duly arrived. Presented in a variety of shapes that were personalised by the bakers , traditional plaits, twist and cottage loaves and even a a hedgehog!

We used our hands to 'break the bread' and then eat some. Which was warm, crusty outside, soft inside, a little salty, light and good. The feast was completed by a basket of plump, sweet summer berries and enhanced by the steady sunshine and blue sky above.


I took a peek into the main chapel, which I had visited once before, at night, for a session of  the Dances of Universal Peace.

I noticed two delightful icons of female saints that had surely issued from a small painting studio that presently occupies one of the former almshouses. And picked up a copy of the prayer booklet from the ceremony, which I had missed, having arrived late.

Icon of St Margaret

The next formal event at the chapel will be another from the Celtic calender, at Autumn equinox.

The Jesus Deck is available exclusively from The Diocese of Chelmsford Resource Centre: 

Tel: 01245 294405
Email:  resources@chelmsford.anglican.org

Stay up to date with Chapel news and events
www.facebook.com/pages/The-Mary-and-Margaret-Charity/

May your harvest be bountiful!

Jennifer