Today is officially Melbourne's shortest day of the year. We celebrated the passing of the longest night of the year last evening at the Geelong West Community Garden. Today's blogpost is a dedication to all things pagan.
Or at least, I couldn't go past this clip from a Dutch pagan metalband. Heidevolk formed in Gelderland, a Dutch province, and sing heavy-metal songs in Dutch with manly titles that include 'het bier zal weer vloeien' (the beer shall flow again) and 'wodan heerst'. They are all about returning to their roots as 'people of the heathland'. Apparently, people of the heathland run around bare chested, with flowing hair and bushy beards - barking guttural sounds into the microphone.
Incidentally, I was born in Ermelo, a town in the famous 'Veluwe', the heatland of the Heidevolk. I have come from and walked the 'oude grond' (from old soil- translated title of their third album) - as a child - and somehow missed the Heidevolk that roam these hills!
The song below is called 'Het Gelders Volkslied', and its quite dreamy - for a metal band that celebrates all things teutonic and technotronic. Also a couple of photos of the Veluwe in winter. It is very beautiful. Of course, while we celebrate the winter soltice, de Veluwe is in the full bloom of summer. But that is no more incongruous than a Dutch band celebrating the mythology of a nation that is renowned for its cosmopolitan, multi-cultural, liberal and progressive ethos.
the ghoulish
Where Gerda found Kay in the palace,'flew to embrace him, and cried out, her arms firmly holding him the while, "Kay, sweet little Kay! Have I then found you at last?"...Kay burst into tears... and shouted, "Gerda, sweet little Gerda! Where have you been so long? And where have I been?" He looked round him. "How cold it is here!" said he. "How empty and cold!" And he was held fast by Gerda, who laughed and wept for joy. It was so beautiful, that even the blocks of ice danced about for joy... Gerda kissed his cheeks, and they grew quite blooming; she kissed his eyes, and they shone like her own; she kissed his hands and feet, and he was again well and merry...they took each other by the hand and wherever they went, the winds ceased raging, and the sun burst forth... it was lovely spring weather, with abundance of flowers and of verdure. The church-bells rang, and the children recognised the high towers, and the large town; it was that in which they dwelt. They entered and hastened up to their grandmother's room, where everything was standing as formerly. The clock said "tick! tack!" and the finger moved round; but as they entered, they remarked that they were now grown up...grown-up, and yet children; children at least in heart; it was summer-time; summer, glorious summer!'
And if this moved brought a tear to your eye, imagine it being read to the gentle strumming of the harp, interspersed by birds whistling, horses galloping, winds blowing, and clocks ticking.
And people choking on their mulled wine in fits of laughter
And the reader of the story in all her dark glory, barely able to go on.
Creating solstice mythology in 2010. A big thank you to Katie, carver of the pumpkin, Barry the Bearded, keeper of the fire, Stella, priestess of the prayer and Peter, bringer of the divine spirit and the fabulous sound effects.
Peter, his harp and his family - or should that be, Peter, his family and his harp? - were recently featured on Australian Story. Despite his new found celebrity status, Peter brought along his harp and treated the faithful to some beautiful music of non teutonic/technotronic variety.
And so Petra, spinner of stories, teller of tall tales and mistress of mythology, would like to wish all her people a happy solstice. And will now pronounce the final blessing... (we shared this the garden last night, for the second year - it's called Fire Blessing -an ancient Prayer... 40,000 years old... handed down through the Aboriginal culture and translated into the English language.)
May the fire be in our thoughts
Making them true, good and just,
May it protect us from the evil one.
May the fire be in our eyes;
May it open our eyes to share what is good in life.
We ask that the fire may protect us from what
Is not rightfully ours.
May the fire be on our lips, so that we may
Speak the truth in kindness; that we may serve
And encourage others.
May it protect us from speaking evil.
May the fire be in our ears.
We pray that we may hear with a deep, deep listening
So that we may hear the flow of water, and of all
Creation.
And the dreaming.
May we be protected from gossip and from things
That harm and break down our family.
May the fire be in our arms and hands
So that we may be of service and build up love.
May the fire protect us from all violence.
May the fire be in our whole being -
In our legs and in our feet,
Enable us to walk the earth
With reverence and care;
So that we may walk in the ways of goodness and truth
And be protected from walking away from what is truth.
A gift from Burnum Burnum
