Holiday Gift Ideas & Traditions Blog

For many of us, November is the month of football-either piling on warm clothes, grabbing a thermos of hot coffee, and joining the throng on the bleachers or collapsing in a chair in front of the TV. What else is there to watch over Thanksgiving? For the Romans, November was an equally frenetic sports month in which athletes paraded their finely honed skills before crowds of cheering, avid fans shouting on their favorite team or champion. One difference is that the ancient Roman athletes performed before the gods and goddesses. Sports were a component of the religious ritual - the Ludi dedicated in November to Jupiter.

An ancient author, Dionysus of Halicarnassus, leaves us a colorful description of the parade and the athletic games. Young men, most likely of leading Roman families, led the procession, riding horseback or driving two- or four-horse chariots. Then came the competing athletes attired only in loincloths. Groups of dancers with flute and lyre players passed by next in the procession. These dancers wore red tunics with bronze belts, crested helmets, and swords and carried short spears. Behind them came other men dressed in goatskins playing the role of satyr and mimicking the warrior dancers. More groups of musicians and dancers followed, together with individuals carrying burning incense and sacred gold or silver ritual urns.

Images of the gods were then carried in procession, including the twelve Olympians as well as Saturn, Ops, Themis, the Muses, the Graces, and the semi-divine Hercules, Aesculapius, and others. Finally came the sacrificial animals. The Roman magistrates, serving as priests, officiated over the sacrifice of oxen; then the games would begin.

The events in the Circus Maximus, which could hold 150,000 people, were well attended and began with four-, three-, and two-horse chariot races. In one race, the driver had a companion riding in the chariot; as it crossed the finish line, the companion would leap from the chariot and run the track himself, competing against the other runners to win the whole race. The chariots raced for seven laps around the Circus Maximus, which is equivalent to about five miles and less than fifteen minutes. Then came boxing and wrestling matches, with the winners receiving crowns.

To the ancient Greeks and Romans, athletic skill was a gift of the gods and athletic competition was a form of worship that was taken very seriously-sport and religion were united. Athletes at the Olympic Games in
Greece traditionally offered sacrifice and prayer to Zeus/Jupiter before the events, swearing an oath against cheating, which was on par with blasphemy. It was the priest who gave the signal to start the race, while the victor officiated at the sacrifice to the god. When athletes trained hard and performed well at the games, they were hailed as heroes endowed with a divine blessing-a strong, fit body. The gods and goddesses attended the games and enjoyed a good rivalry and athletic competition; their images were carried in a parade through
Rome just behind the athletes. Who could ask for better fan support?

Athletic skill is a wonderful gift. In classical thought, it was as important to develop the body as the mind, so that there was a balance between the two. Our bodies are indeed expressions of the divine. Sacred games and sports under the auspices of the gods and goddesses were the ultimate tribute to the sanctity of the body. The combination of physical dexterity, strength, determination, and drive with hard work and hours of training shows itself in the moments of competition, whatever the sport. Those moments when the runner crosses the finish line, the charioteer pulls ahead of the rest, the wide receiver catches the touchdown pass, the striker puts the soccer ball in the net-those glorious few moments of achievement are moments of euphoria and awe. For the Greeks and Romans, these were sacred moments when the gods gave approving nods.

We honor the spirits in November by turning our attention to the passing of time and in doing so acknowledge the essential human spirit with all its frailties. Yes, we grow old, and in November we accept the process of aging. We revel in the peak moments of human achievements in art and sport, for the mind and the body. We lay back and observe the passing of the month and the end of the year. It is all good. And, most important, it will come again, with subsequent years, new playwrights, and new athletes striving to surpass the current records.

Ancient farmers were advised to sow the fall wheat and barley and to trench around the trees. 

November has arrived. There is a chill in the air, and the hours of sunlight are noticeably shorter. Those colder gray days of winter are on their way. Perhaps the first frost has appeared or even a light dusting of snow. The green growing season is definitely over and gone for one more year. The grains have been threshed, the apples and crops picked, the grapes pressed into new wine and stored, and the seeds placed in underground bins to keep over the winter. We have journeyed through the sensual months of spring, those months of creative energy fueled by youthful hormonal exuberance. We have passed the months of fullness and ripeness, and continued on through the harvest period of endings.

In November, Roman farmers prepared for the long, hard winter rapidly approaching, stocking up plenty of fodder and wood to keep the home warm for the cold months. On a spiritual level in the Roman calendar, with the intensity of September’s and October’s rituals over, everything seems to wind down in November. There is calm in November, and we are midway through the autumn season, a good month away from the solstice and the crisis invoked by seasonal change.

The year, in many ways is a metaphor for our lives, and this is apparent as we reach these last few months. Death awaits each of us-a fact of the life cycle that we cannot change and that becomes more apparent as we age. As the dark noticeably predominates over daylight, November marks the time of acceptance and acknowledgment of the final time, the dying time. The all-encompassing bond with nature and the intimate association with the span of human life and the natural yearly cycle are evident and form a core Roman belief in this passage by Ovid, in which the tone is acceptance:

What? Don’t you see that the year follows in four phases, imitating our own lifetime? In early spring, it is youthful and full of new life just like a little baby; in spring all things green and growing are also young and fragile, bursting with life yet without strength, to fill the fanners with hopes of an abundant crop.

Then, everything is in bloom and the fertile fields burst with brightly colored flowers; still the foliage lacks strength and endurance. After spring has passed, the year has grown sturdier, and passes into summer: It becomes like a strong young man, full of life. There is no hardier time than this, none fuller of rich warm life. Then autumn comes with its first flush of youth gone; ripe and mellow midway between youth and age, with a sprinkling of gray hair at the temples. And then comes aged winter, with faltering step and shivering, the hair all gone or frosted white. 

The finality and inevitability of death is eloquently expressed in this deeply moving myth of Orpheus and his most beloved Eurydice.

This month of November we can finally see the end drawing near. The year is moving rapidly to completion. Our period of great activity is over; we are resigned and ready for a change, something new; and the cycle to continue.

Modern Ritual: Remembering the Dead and Fallen

One cold and dark day in November, our women’s group gathered to honor the spirits of the month and the natural cycle. Though departure and death is not easy to talk about for many of us, this was the chosen and appropriate theme for the month. This was a solemn time and not a gay and festive celebration, yet one so powerful, essential, and natural.

We came together to share memories of those whom we have loved and who have departed this life. One by one we placed a long thin black veil over our heads envisioning the fearful descent of Orpheus into the darkened underworld. Here, we shared thoughts of beloved ones, visiting again those deeply personal memories and evoking love bonds that never died.

When all was over, we said a final “Farewell” much like Eurydice. And we moved a step closer to resolution and acceptance of the death of our loved ones and to our own mortality.

November 8, Mundus Opened

The Mundus; the door to the Underworld, was opened for the third time in the year and the dead spirits could roam the streets.

The Mundus is again opened and dead spirits can roam the streets of
Rome free to return home. At this time of year, with Halloween and the Day of the Dead just past, we are forced to face the ultimate fate head on. In November, we look death right in the eye, and there is no denying, no avoiding the final outcome. By dealing with the themes of loss, separation, and death so prevalent in the rituals of September, we prepare ourselves. By symbolically experiencing death and rebirth with Isis and Osiris in October we do the same. Most important, by evaluating and recommitting to our faith, we learn to accept the inevitable. In the yearly agrarian and natural cycle, November is indeed the autumn of our lives; we are growing old. These are the issues of November.

The Greeks and Romans tended to divide the years of the aging process into groups or spans, yet there was no general agreement on the length of these spans. For practical purposes it is easier to view the life span in three phases of youth, maturity, and old age, marked in women by the onset of menstruation, years of fertility, and menopause.

Menstruation was believed to occur in the fourteenth year for young girls, as their bodies were sufficiently developed to allow the collection and evacuation of blood. The first sign of puberty and the cause for a coming-of-age dedication was not menstruation, but instead the development of breasts. Some Romans believed that menstrual blood had magical powers that it could cure diseases and that agricultural fertility increased if a menstruating woman ritually walked the fields.

Mature women were thought to be both wetter and softer than men and that they absorbed more liquid in their diets and less physical lifestyle. The buildup of excess fluid in the woman’s body was evacuated during the monthly cycle, menstruation. As they aged, it was assumed that women just “dried up,” thus ending the need to relieve themselves of excess fluid in menstruation, resulting in menopause. Yes, physically our bodies may crave moisture as we age, but we certainly do not “dry up” in body, spirit, or outlook. Menopause connotes an end of one phase of our lives and the beginning of another, one that can be both rewarding and exciting.

Older women were often seen as wise women in antiquity. The Sibyl of Cumae, for example, was usually portrayed as an old woman who spoke very wise words. Wisdom and old age were valued in
Rome; in fact, mental ability was seen as a function of the aging process.

It seems that everywhere we turn today; we confront the stereotypic youthful models daily paraded across the TV screen or staring at us from magazines. Though these are young, vibrant, and beautiful faces, are these the faces of wise women, those whose years of learning and living reflect intelligence and understanding? It is the wise women, the crones, the older women who retain their knowledge and share the wisdom that we must honor and value throughout the year. We are only reminded of their inherent worth in November, when Mother Nature herself shows a few frosty white hairs.

Learn to accept the aging process and, for sure, learn to enjoy life in the autumn. The aging process is sacred, but can be very playful in spirit.

On October 15, 1962, U.S. intelligence experts, studying films taken by a U-2 spy plane over Cuba, were surprised to see a Soviet missile-launching area. When the public heard about a U.S. blockade of Cuba on October 22, they didn’t know the full story. Neither did fashington nor Moscow:

• Nikita Khrushchev, concerned about U.S. missiles in Turkey, had persuaded Fidel Castro to accept missiles in Cuba  as a defense  gainst U.S. invasion.
• The Soviet Union had 45 missiles in Cuba. Years later, the West learned that nine of them were “tactical” nukes each with the power of the Hiroshima bomb - that could be fired at the discretion of the local Soviet commander. (At the time, U.S. missiles in Europe were controlled by their local commanders, and the ICBMs were later discovered to have electronic faults that could have caused them to launch themselves.)
• On October 22, a B-S2 strayed over Siberia and was ordered destroyed. Officers in Moscow watched by radar as a pair of MiG-I7s converged on the target; 50 kilometers from the bomber, they turned back. They were low on fuel.
• On October 23, Gen. Curtis LeMay, with the U.S. joint chiefs of staff, said, “If there is to be war, there’s no better time than at present. We are prepared and ‘the bear’ is not.”
• On the night of October 25, a wild bear climbed over the perimeter fence of the U.S. air force base in Duluth, Minnesota. A sentry shot at the shadowy figure and sounded the sabotage alarm to alert bases throughout the region. However, at Volk Field, Wisconsin, the alarm for nuclear war was triggered. Air crew, who had been told there would be no practice alerts during this crisis, rushed to take off. Luckily, the base commander phoned Duluth to find out what had really happened (the “saboteur” wasn’t identified until later) and subordinate officers drove a car onto the Volk Field runway, blocking any departures.
• On October 26, saying “only lunatics or suicides” wanted nuclear war; Khrushchev offered to pull his missiles in return for a no-invasion pledge. But Cuban troops knocked down a U-2 and killed the pilot; U.S. fliers assumed they would hit back; however, Kennedy said, “We shall try (negotiations) again.”
• On October 27, which was the deadline for Soviet missiles to be operational, a deal was reached and announced on Moscow Radio.
  U.S. troops had been scheduled to invade Cuba on October 29.

Sources: Eyeball to Eyeball, The Limits of Safety, Independent on Sunday, and news services.

The Eleusinian Mysteries were open to all persons who spoke Greek and had not committed murder. The goddesses welcomed men and women, slave or free. The one requirement that may have prohibited participation was the fee of 15 drachmas, equivalent to about ten days’ workman’s wages by the fourth century B.C.E. The Greater Eleusinian Rites began in the last half of September and lasted about ten days.

• Day 1: Young men selected for their physical dexterity and athleticism left Athens for the town of Eleusis to escort the sacred objects back to Athens on the following day.
• Day 3: Thousands of men and women gathered in the grand Agora of Athens to declare themselves participants and hear the high priest state the rules.
• Day 4: The initiates marched to the sea to purify themselves in the briny water.

Each initiate also washed a piglet that he or she would sacrifice later that day.

• Day 5: A sacrifice was offered to the two goddesses.
• Day 7: The initiates walked along the Sacred Way to Heusis, following behind the sacred objects. As they walked, they swung branches of myrtle tied with wool in rhythm to a beat and shouted the sacred name “lakchos.” They carried torches, as the goddess Ceres did in her search. A ritual bath in the river ended the day’s journey.

The initiates were welcomed into Eleusis and, at the sight of the first star, broke their two-day fast just as the goddess had done. Special round pottery dishes and tiny cups of grain, peas, and beans were displayed for all to see. That night, the women apparently danced suggestively and sang obscene songs, although celibacy was mandatory.

• Day 8: The final phase of initiation occurred in a building built solely for this purpose. The Telesterion was a large flat-roofed, windowless square hall capable of holding thousands of people on rows of seats lining the sides. In the center was the Anaktoron, a sacred stone construction, closed to view, containing the throne of the high priest. This must have been a very dark and mysterious place. The initiates drank the sacred drink, kykeon, and attended the mystery rites.
• Day 9: There was dancing, feasting, and singing after the rites were completed. As a closure ceremony, a libation was made with all participants facing the east, looking to the sky, and shouting “Rain,” then turning to the west, facing down at the earth, and shouting “Conceive” (or “Hye.” then “Kye” in Greek). The clothes the initiates wore were later used as swaddling clothes for newborn infants.

How can a story from thousands of years ago, a myth involving the gods and goddesses probably originating in the Neolithic times, hold any meaning for us today? We all experience loss of some degree, yet coming to terms with a separation or ending takes time and can be a very slow, painful, and personal process. At some point in our lives, a ritual for loss may be appropriate and bring comfort and healing.

During times of mourning, the Naenia, or lamentation song, was traditionally sung to the accompaniment of a single flute. It was similar to a chant with several phrases repeated over and over again. Naenia, also the Goddess of Funerary Lamentations, had a little temple near one of the gates leading into Rome. Dance, considered an invention of the goddess, had a place in many religious festivals from joyous occasions to times of mourning. The Etruscans especially danced at their funerals. A dance of mourning featured women and men moving to music and song in a slow procession. As they moved, they showed the gesture of mourning, a hand held before the face or touching the forehead.

• Choose some slow, thoughtful music that holds meaning for you.
• Choreograph a dance of loss. Mourning and searching. Your movements do not have to be elaborate, but should be heartfelt. They can be planned and danced in a group, yet this can also be a private dance performed alone.

We share something in common with those who lived two or three millennia ago-we all experience loss. Different cultures, different religions, different eras all reflect a diversity of responses to loss. A reenactment of the myth of Ceres and Persephone by participation in the ritual of the Eleusinian Mysteries provoked a personal encounter with the goddesses, who offered hope, faith, and strength to the ancient Greeks and Romans. The ancients looked to the power and mystery of the Divine Feminine for comfort and guidance through loss and the somber days of September.

Modern Ritual:

A Libation to the Dead

The Romans honored their dead and those spirits who dwell underground by making a libation, an offering that the earth drinks. Often, a permanent libation hole was dug into the ground near family tombs to serve as a gateway to the dead spirits. The family would then make libation, using wine, or honey throughout the year to deceased relatives.

• Find a secluded quiet place and pour a libation into the Mother Earth as you remember those who have gone before, those you have loved.

 Mourning and Searching

We humans are bound to the earth in the natural cycle of life and death, really no different than the plants and animals-something that we easily forget, but can never avoid-for the dead return to the earth and the womb of the Mother. And we search for answers and reasons. For the initiates, the September rites of Ceres and Persephone described a ritualized time of mourning and searching.

We can never know what exactly the thousands of initiates in the September rites were seeking or what they experienced with days of fasting, a demanding fourteen-mile walk, purifications, fatigue, fear, and anticipation of the unknown. We can be assured that every man and woman was personally committed to experiencing the ritual, which involved physical and emotional hardship and demanded spiritual courage. This was a quest, a search into the deeper mysteries of the inner self.

Our knowledge is scant and suspect, since few have spoken of what actually occurred in the Telesterion, the building that housed the rites. Clement of Alexandria, a Christian and initiate, tells us, “I fasted, 1 drank the kykeon, 1 worked, and deposited in the basket and from the basket into the chest. Kykeon was a drink of barley, water, and herbs that some suggest contained traces of barley mold (ergot), a substance similar to LSD.

We can infer, however, that a visionary state was induced from days of fasting and little food followed by a fermented beverage. But just what vision did the initiates behold? Did they find what they were seeking? The grieving and searching process was an integral part of the weeklong rite, and this experience marked a profound transformation in the lives of many men and women.

I once joined a group of women celebrating the September ritual at a mountain retreat. At night, when all was dark, we lit a huge bonfire, read the myth of Ceres and Persephone, and then shared some painful moments of loss, separation, abuse, and denial. Then, carefully, we each took a lit branch or candle and wandered off alone for a short distance down darkened paths as we searched within ourselves, to grieve and to meditate upon our own personal losses.

Joy and Belief

Much as Easter confirms the resurrection of Christ for Christians and revolves around the sacred story of a divine Parent and Child, the September rituals to Ceres confirmed the cycle of life, death, and rebirth to ancient pagans. Yet, contrary to the Christian version of the divine Father and Son, the pagan story was based upon the Holy Mother and Daughter, the principle of the Divine Feminine.

The great Roman statesman Cicero, as an initiate into the September Eleusinian rites, had a very personal encounter with the goddess Ceres and her daughter. He confessed this profound and intimate moment of self-enlightenment in a letter to his friend Atticus: “We have come to truly understand the first principles of life, and we have accepted with joy not only a rationale for living, but even for dying with better hope”. We all seek happiness on earth and blessedness after death. How powerful it must have been to hear the myth retold, to actually reenact it and participate in the cycle within a spiritual community, and to take partake in the mystery. September challenges us to face endings; it is a month of separation. September also conditions a belief in the sanctity of nature, the Divine Feminine, and the continuous natural cycle of all things. And it gives us hope for what will come as we do what we are compelled to do, “harvest life.”

An Ancient Prayer for the Seeds

O grant unto the tender seedlings unbroken increase,

Let not the sprouting shoot be nipped by chilly snows. When we sow, let the sky be cloudless and winds blow fair;

But when the seed is buried then sprinkle it with water from the sky. Forbid the birds-pests of the tilled land-to devastate the fields of grain with their destructive flocks.

You too, ants, spare the sown grain; so shall you have a more abundant harvest. Meantime may no disease blight the growing crop nor foul weather turn it a sickly hue;

May it neither shrivel up nor swell unduly and be choked.

May the fields be free blight and no barren oats spring from the tilled soil. May the farm yield many times crops of wheat, barley and grain which can be baked.

May the Two Goddess grant our prayers.

Long time did wars engage mankind and the plow gave way to the sword.

The plow ox gave way to the war horse.

Hoes were idle; a helmet was made out of a heavy rake. Thanks be to the Goddesses and to my house.

Let War be laid in chains.

Yoke now the oxen and sow the seed in the ploughed earth.

Peace is the nurse of Ceres and Ceres is the Child of Peace!

Ancient farmers were advised to paint the wine jars with pitch, pick apples, and loosen the soil around the roots of the trees. At the equinox, the farmers were to cut straw, harrow the ploughed land, and gather in fodder.  September, when the summer growing season is over and the harvest nears completion, is a month of endings. Although many days remain sunny and warm, the intense heat of summer is past and the first cooler days appear, as the sun continues its six-month journey toward the winter solstice and the hours of light are noticeably shorter approaching the equinox. A few leaves turn brown and fall from the trees, harbingers of the glorious, but so brief, display of nature’s magnificent color before the dull tones of late fall and winter set in. In the Roman rustic calendar, September represented a quiet time for the busy farmer with the winding down of the harvest, for the summer fruits and vegetables had been picked and the sheaves of grain had been cut down. In the countryside, September was a time for thanksgiving. Wine or honey mixed with milk was poured directly into the ground as libation, and spontaneous dances and songs were offered to Ceres for a bounteous harvest by oak-leaf crowned young men and women. September was also the month of grief and the time to mourn the loss.

In the agrarian calendar, the jubilation brought on by a bounteous harvest of summer crops now gave way to a sadness and preparation for the end. September is a month to acknowledge the end, and it is a time for closure. Yet this too is only part of the natural cycle. As in August, powerful goddesses prevail this month, but with a difference. The goddesses of September do not strike out, but instead serve as reminders of the eternal life cycle. These goddesses offer hope and restore faith.

The story I am about to tell has been retold and reenacted for thousands of years at countless secret rituals to the Greek goddess Demeter or Ceres, her Roman counterpart. There was a time long ago when men and women attended the rites to Demeter in September, marching from Athens to the small town called Eleusis, some fourteen miles northwest of Athens. What was it that drew them for the weeklong ceremony? What compelled them to take part in this ritual, the most famous mystery of the classical world, a rite no initiate could ever discuss openly for fear of death? We cannot answer that question with any certainty; we can only infer. Because this was a very solemn rite and the initiates took their oath seriously, no reliable source exists to describe the events in any detail. Thus, the rites of the Eleusinian Demeter have remained enigmatic-a mystery-for nearly three thousand years.

Let this sacred tale of mother and daughter, possibly the most powerful of all the classical myths, serve as an introduction to the Greater Eleusinian Mysteries, held in the last half of September, and to the Thesmophoria, which occurred shortly thereafter. This sacred and truly feminine myth delves deep into the earth, into nature, and into our psyches, drawing strength from ageless archetypes. This is a story of loss, grief, and suffering, and it is appropriate for September.

Originally an oral poem, the myth of Ceres and Persephone was written down sometime between 650 and 550 B.C.E. by an anonymous Greek bard. The version you will find here is Roman; it begins in Sicily near the modern town of Enna and was composed by Ovid in the first few years of the common era.

This rite to Ceres and Persephone was held in late September or early October and was not restricted to Greece, where it lasted three days, but was practiced in cities around the Mediterranean. In southern Italy and Sicily the ritual could last up to ten days. There, “older women respected for their noble birth and character” served as priestesses.The Thesmophoria differs from other rites in that it is practiced only by women, young and old, mothers and daughters, “maidens and matrons.” Here, too, the myth of Ceres and Persephone lies at the core of the ritual. The three aspects of the myth, the separation, the mourning and search, and the joyful reunion, were reenacted and collectively experienced by women in antiquity.

In preparation for the ritual, one month in advance, the priestess of the Thesmophoria threw live pigs into a sacrificial pit. On the first day of the rite, the women made a procession to a building or specially constructed huts at the outskirts of the town where they would live for the duration of the ritual. They refrained from wearing crowns of flowers on their heads as Persephone was collecting flowers when she was abducted. The women carried with them closed baskets-what they contained we don’t know, perhaps clay phalluses or sheaves of grain. Later this day, they would open the pit, and a priestess would descend and bring up the rotted remains of the pigs to be placed upon an altar.

This unusual ritual of resurrection of the dead from underground began a period of mourning that lasted through the second day. The women remained secluded, fasting and sleeping on freshly cut green boughs and branches. On the second night, they would run through the streets with torches, stopping at crossroads to shout, reenacting Ceres’ frantic search for Persephone.

The third day, or last phase, was festive with special meals, singing, and dancing. Though sexual abstinence was mandatory, sexual symbolism predominated. Phallic-shaped cakes were baked and eaten. Obscene gestures, songs, and dances were encouraged, to the great delight of the men passing by. Blood-colored objects, such as red wine and red pomegranates, were part of the ritual. In honor of Persephone, however, the pomegranates were not eaten. When all was over, the women returned home to be united with their families, as Ceres was with Persephone.

In September, we now look to the end, to a time when “Now all the fields and meadows appear the same somber color and a dark shadow covers the world. Now the watchdogs are silent … “-a time of closure, withdrawal, and death. The goddesses guide us with burning torches, for the two gifts that Ceres gives to humans are the grain harvested in the fall and the mystery rituals.