Avalon Within

by Jhenah Telyndru

  Cycle Chart of Correspondences

  Understanding the succession of energy in its myriad forms of revelation is but a portion of the work necessary to come into conscious partnership with the Cycle. Knowledge can only transform into wisdom through experience. Immersion into the Cycle is therefore of utmost importance.

  The key feminine energetic tool—the way through which women come to understand both the inner and outer worlds—is through the act of merging. The path of mastery for the passive energetic is to seek power with. Becoming one with something: an emotion, energy, perspective, or area, to name examples—can bring us to full understanding of that thing. The path of understanding for the active energetic is through the conquering of a thing—exploring and analyzing it until power over it has been obtained. We see this interplay of perspective countless times in human history, society, and even biology. The net result of these actions is the same; what differs is simply the perspective.

  Our goal, therefore, is to become fully immersed in the rhythm of the Cycle—that is, merging with its essence in order to identify with our own route to wholeness. With this understanding comes the wisdom to use this tool to effect lasting inner change, harnessing the Cycle’s momentum. The Earth’s seasonal changes are one of the most powerful and accessible manifestations of Cycle. Its divisions align beautifully with our inner process, triggering the corresponding aspects within ourselves as it unfolds around us. Vitally important to the agricultural Celtic Britons, we will use this Cycle as the focus for our study, revealing the Cycle’s potential as a tool for personal empowerment and self-actualization.

  The Sacred Year

  It is easy to find a very clear example of the importance of Cycle to the Celtic people. As agriculturalists, their very existence depended upon the stable repetition of the solar year as manifested in the seasons. Allying themselves with the seasonal shifts, they worked with the changes of the Wheel of the Year and harnessed its power for optimal gain. Their lives revolved around the agricultural cycle, and their activities at any given time of the year were influenced by the point of cycle presently active. It is no accident that the economic, communal, and individual lives of the Celts harmoniously reflected the fundamental energies of the Great Cycle, conscious or not. We see this illustrated by examining the only known written Celtic calendar, the Gaullish Coligny calendar, which dates to the first century ce.

  Months of the Coligny Calendar

  Matthews, Caitlin. The Celtic Tradition. 1996.

  Some months’ names refer directly to the agricultural cycle, such as Samonios and Giamonios, whereas others allude to social activities (Equos, Anagantios) or administrative endeavors (Elembiuos and Edrinios). In contemplating these months, a pattern of seasonal activities comes to light.

  The winter seemed mostly to be a period of inactivity when the Celts remained at their farmsteads, presumably using what small amounts of spelt cultivation were necessary. Springtime hallmarked the return of life to the land, and the sowing of new crops and appearance of new livestock dominated the activities of this time. Not many social activities could have taken place until the summer, when the crops were well on their way, and the herds needed less attention. The summer months appear to have been abounding with social intercourse of both administrative and recreational natures. Autumn marked the winding down of the year as everyone worked to harvest their crops and to prepare for the long winter months ahead. When examining the four great festivals of the Celtic tradition, we will see more clearly the way the agricultural cycle determined and mirrored religious and communal activities. There is a certain beauty in the way their spiritual lives came to reflect this pattern as well.

  Cultural Context—The British Celts

  Neolithic migrants arriving on southern British shores between 4600 and 2400 bce were greeted by a landscape that shaped the society the Gaullish Coligny calendar agriculturalists developed. Ancient Britain’s geography and environment presented many difficulties for the agricultural settlers from the European continent; indeed, the most pressing difficulty was that of available, arable land. The primeval British landscape was densely forested and far beyond the newcomers’ Neolithic technology to clear. Clear land that did exist was widely dispersed throughout the countryside; the resulting settlements’ isolation created problems of agricultural risk sharing, limited livestock pools, few perspective mates, and a lack of unified defense against raids.

  Solitary farmsteads seemed to be the smallest economic unit in ancient Britain as a response to the environment’s forced natural isolation. Settlements were located near or adjacent to the land inhabitants cultivated. Called “Celtic fields,” the parcels of land ranged in size from .33 to 1.5 acres, and were square in shape. These types of fields were common on the chalk downs, presumably because there was less forest growth to clear. Hundreds of acres of these field systems are known thus far, telling a tale of massive and concentrated field allotment programs. In time, these field systems and their later linear earthworks (defining ownership and possibly providing protection) became associated with hillforts. Evidence suggests land distribution was initially in the hands of the clans, which would explain the fields’ regional concentrations and relative uniformity of shape and size.

  Entering the early Iron Age, farmsteads began to show signs of extended families and clan groups living together in nucleated hamlets with privately owned lands adjacent to their homesteads. Presumably, iron usage facilitated the ability to clear land, thus allowing use of larger land areas. A greater number of people were able to live and work at these Iron Age settlements, yet the difficulties of isolation remained. There needed to be meeting and mingling with other settlements to trade locally unavailable goods and resources, arrange risk-sharing relationships with farmers growing different crops in different areas, and strengthen livestock breeds.

  Establishing social cohesion was imperative, and one way of accomplishing this was through using foci. A foci is a central area, where at certain times of the year, festivals were held for purposes of social, cultural, and economic exchange. During Neolithic times, these places of communal gatherings happened at causewayed camps—ditched hilltop enclosures constructed specifically to be the foci of tribal groupings. Even into the Iron Age, when many of the causewayed camps had hillforts constructed at their sites, they continued to be used as tribal centers. Of prime importance in these festivals was the religious element; surely without it, festivals may not have occurred at all.

  These semi-religious gatherings were based on agricultural and seasonal cycles. Sacred festivities were supplemented by the more mundane activities of trading, matchmaking, and marketing, thereby creating a medium where the socio-economic needs resulting from isolation could be met. Assembly times at these central places was dictated by the Celtic calendrical system. This system’s foundation was the turning of the seasons, agricultural activities associated with the different times of the year, and was inextricably tied in with Celtic religious belief; indeed, for the ancient Britons, it appears that the three were one.

  The Great Festivals

  Calan Gaeaf

  solar observance: November 1

  lunar observance: First full moon when the sun is in Scorpio

  The Celtic year began on the festival known as Calan Gaeaf (Welsh) or Samhain (Gaelic). This day marked the beginning of winter; the last of the harvest was collected and the livestock were gathered into winter barracks and stockades after any excess had been slaughtered and smoked for the winter’s stores. All food, fodder, and fuel had to be stored away by this day. The buying and selling of livestock took place at the clan central places at Calan Gaeaf. Accounts were settled on this feast day; rents and debts were paid and servants and workmen received their wages.

  The actual feast day of Calan Gaeaf was considered to be out of time; it was neither a part of the old year nor a part of the new, making it religiously significant. It was
believed that on this day that was not a day, and at this time that was not a time, the Otherworld and its inhabitants could be easily accessed. Celts performed rites and ceremonies, contacted the dead, made divinations for the coming year, and recounted the tales of their Gods and great heroes. The main theme that ran through the socio-cultural and religious activities of this great Celtic Fire Festival was that of taking accounts, reflecting upon the deeds of the past, and preparation for the coming year.

  Gwyl Mair

  solar observance: February 2

  lunar observance: First full moon when the sun is in Aquarius

  The next great religious festival was the point midway between Calan Gaeaf and Calan Mai (Beltane) was known as Imbolc (“In the Belly”) to the Irish and as Gwyl Mair (the Feast of Mary) to the Welsh. The long dark winter was a time of inactivity for the Celtic Britons. Social and political activities came to a standstill during the winter months of merciless wind and driving rains—weather that further reinforced the isolation of their disparate homesteads. It is because of the imposition of the elements that Gwyl Mair celebrations often only occurred on a local basis—travel was almost impossible in the middle of winter.

  Regardless of weather conditions, Gwyl Mair was considered a herald of the springtime season; the first welcome signs of spring began to stir after the grip of winter had finally relinquished. Ewes began to lactate following the birth of their lambs, supplying protein from milk, cheese, and whey, most welcome at this time of year. The spring work of plowing and tilling the soil began, and fishermen on the coastal areas began to repair their boats, anticipating the beginning of the fishing season and their sojourns out to sea. Divinations concerning weather and household prosperity were made at this time, while the farmers and householders checked their stores of food and hay, which would have been half gone by this time. Surviving the trials of winter depended on how well prepared the homestead had been. Any possible improvements were taken into account in planning for the next season as they looked ahead to spring’s work.

  Calan Mai

  solar observance: May 1

  lunar observance: First full moon when the sun is in Taurus

  In direct opposition to Calan Gaeaf in the yearly cycle, Calan Mai (Beltane to the Irish) marked the beginning of the Light Half of the Year, when the summer began and the world was green and growing. Good weather and the good health of animals and humans alike were anticipated and the flocks and herds were put out to pasture. Communal ceremonies included driving cattle between two ritual fires to bless, protect, and purify them from disease-causing vermin left over from their long winter confinement.

  At the clan central places, weather and marriage divination was performed, furious trading occurred, grazing land contracts were made, and rents were paid. Between the long winter and the preparation and planting of the crops, this was the first real opportunity for a tribe to leave their isolated farmsteads and travel for communal gathering. Trial marriages made from the previous summer were given the long isolation of the winter to test whether they would work out; if a pairing proved discordant, the couple would come before the judges at Calan Mai to have their union dissolved. Calan Mai was a celebration of the fertility of land, animals, and humans, and was one the greatest feast days—not surprising for an agricultural people for whom the land’s abundance dictated their chance of survival.

  Gwyl Awst

  solar observance: August 1

  lunar observance: First full moon when the sun is in Leo

  The festival of Gwyl Awst (Lughnasadh to the Irish) was celebrated as the beginning of the harvest. It was a time of thanksgiving for the bounty of the Earth and for the performance of sacrifices to ensure continued bounty for the rest of the year. Crops were welcomed and large communal meals of great ritual importance were held. Weather divination was practiced and seasonal harvest workers were hired.

  Gwyl Awst was a festival known for its large, communal sporting events, especially horse racing, which served to reinforce the bonds between tribe members. Young men and women took this opportunity to prove themselves to the opposite sex, taking advantage of this rare occasion when a considerable amount of prospective mates was available. Gwyl Awst was when marriages were arranged, either for love or for economic/political purposes; the couple pledged to be married for a year and a day, and could part after that time should they find that they were not compatible. Along with marriage, the Celts entered into alliances of friendship and contracts at this time. This vibrant feast, said to commemorate the funeral games of the mother of Lugh, the Irish god of Light (perhaps also an analog to Lleu of the Welsh) was followed by several months of hard work until the last fruits were harvested, and Calan Gaeaf came around once more.

  The simple perfection of this cyclic system of risk sharing and communion is both admirable and successful. Although not everyone from a settlement was always able to attend any given festival, it was important for each homestead to be represented for both sacred and secular reasons. While individual farmers performed religious rites on their own land to ensure the fertility of their fields and to win the favor of the local deities and nature spirits, attendance at the greater communal rituals guaranteed the protection and blessings of tribal gods as well. However well these strategies may have worked, these agriculturalists used the amassed populace present at these gatherings as an opportunity to ensure economic stability through trade, the buying and selling of locally unavailable goods and products, and fresh bloodlines to strengthen herds and flocks.

  The duality of communal participation and the cyclic work of each individual homestead underscores the ways in which we are called to participate in the cosmic dance. There is the call to work within, tending the fields of the soul, and there is the call to move without—bringing the bounty of harvest with us to share and exchange with others. The whole is nourished and strengthened by our personal contributions, and we in turn benefit from the bounty of the product forged at the hearths of others.

  Although the Avalonian Tradition is a path that leads within, it is equally important to manifest our reclaimed wisdoms without. The beauty of the Tradition is that each woman’s contribution is an important function of the whole. Together, we manifest as a self-sufficient community aiming to open and empower each individual soul. We cycle within and we cycle without.

  The Neo-Pagan Wheel of the Year

  Many Neo-Pagan traditions celebrate what are commonly called the Eight Grove Festivals. These are made up of the four solar-oriented Solstices and Equinoxes as well as the four lunar “Cross Quarter” holy days of Samhain, Imbolc, Beltane, and Lughnasadh. The Avalonian Tradition actively celebrates only the lunar holy days for several reasons. Their connection with the moon gives them greater correspondence with the inner feminine energies associated with Women’s Mysteries, aiding us in our work and on the journey within. Indeed, we celebrate the holy days on the days of their lunar observance, rather than that of the solar Gregorian calendar, thereby reinforcing our connection with the female energetic and our Briton foremothers in honor of their lunar calendar.

  The solar holy days are not Celtic but Germanic in origin. Celtic Britons began to be displaced by the Anglo-Saxon invasions of Britain in the fifth century ce; English Pagan traditions therefore strongly reflect these later Germanic influences. Celtic British culture survived to the west of Offa’s Dyke, separating the Welsh kingdoms from the rest of England. The Welsh (or Cymry) then, are the descendants of the Britons, and inheritors of the Celtic language and tradition. As the work of Avalon takes inspiration from earlier Celtic materials, we draw primarily from the Welsh mythic cycle, seeing in it the remnants of the Celtic Briton belief system, and seek to reclaim the older archetype of the four Fire Festivals.

  Interestingly, there is a degree of energetic redundancy in these two systems of celebration. A brief examination illustrates how the holidays of the Lunar Cycle reflect those of the Solar
Cycle that directly precede them.

  Samhain and Mabon/Autumn Equinox

  Both are harvest festivals at waning threshold times. Mabon holds the point of equal night and day, moving into longer nights, while Samhain holds the point which bridges the old and new years. Depending on the tradition, either holiday is considered the beginning of the Dark Half of the Year.

  Imbolc and Yule/Winter Solstice

  Both are midwinter festivals at the point of greatest decrease. Yule marks the longest night of the year, while Imbolc marks the deepest depths of winter and its stillness—occurring exactly at the midpoint between the beginning of winter and the beginning of summer as conceived by Celtic cultures.

  Beltane and Ostara/Spring Equinox

  Both are fertility festivals at waxing threshold times. Ostara holds the point of equal day and night, moving into longer days, while Beltane holds the point which bridges the Light and Dark Halves of the Year, directly opposite Samhain.

  Lughnasadh and Litha/Summer Solstice

  Both are midsummer festivals at the point of greatest increase. Litha marks the longest day of the year, while Lughnasadh marks the very height of summer and its bounty—occurring exactly at the midpoint between the beginning of summer and the beginning of winter as conceived by Celtic cultures.

  Wisdoms for Today

  Over time, surviving through periods of socio-economic and religious change, the traditions and symbolic remnants of the four Great Festivals passed into folk usage, and have been carried down through the generations into modern times, allowing us a glimpse of what was. Old as these traditions may be, the relevance of these ancient wisdoms has not faded.

  Details of an ancient culture’s agricultural cycle may seem out of sync with modern Western realities of technology and urban living. What makes paying attention to this seemingly outmoded method of marking time so important? As with much of our work, reclaiming the wisdoms of those who have come before us is crucial to our process and is a step towards wholeness. The implication is not that agrarian peoples were inherently more spiritually advanced because their connection to the land was more profound than is our own; rather, those who worked the land and depended upon it for their survival understood great truths. These truths are hidden from us in the glare of artificial light and the extreme abundance on supermarket shelves.