Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored" on Lughnasadh, 2008! Let all disturbing thoughts be set aside!
August is a month in which many praise and worship teams of the northern climes celebrate harvest by setting aside a holy day. We thank the gods and goddesses for creating bounty. And if the harvest is slim -- if there's been dark weather or disaster, or even rising gas prices -- we politely request the help of our deities to see us through the dark times.
Harvest in the apparent world means fat tomatoes off the vine, big ears of sweet corn and bulging ripe watermelons. It's time to can peaches and make jam and freeze pints of blueberries for the winter.
But harvest is also a metaphor. Have you stored enough wisdom to see you through rough patches? Have you canned enough patience to last out an illness? Have you saved all the love you'll need to shower it abundantly on the people who mean the most to you?
If so, blessed be! Advance to the dragon-tossing round! Let the Lughnasadh Games begin!
If not, pray for rain on that dry old ground you call your life. Don't be too proud to petition a deity for Her or His help. If you were sitting around with not enough to do, and you saw your neighbor struggling to get the lawn mower started, wouldn't you go and help out?
Well then, why are you hesitant to ask Mannanan MacLir to send healing rain? Why would you not swim in the pool of the Salmon of Wisdom until you filled the gaps in your learning? Why not put your parenting issues before Danu and Bile, your mercantile concerns before Queen Brighid the Bright and Cernunnos? Is your life in peril? Surely The Dagda and Morrigan will walk with you.
One of our least appreciated harvests is the abundance of bored deities among all the peoples of the world. Deities, bursting out of your shrubbery at a moment's notice -- not with terrible swift swords, but with the Divine Wisdom of the Ages. Ancient Ones who were sacred to your ancestors. Go chat with them. Can't hurt, unless you're afraid of someone who's smarter than you are.
Bored Gods, give us rain on this dry old ground. Water the tomato and the termite alike. Make us wise, patient, and loving. On our part, we'll try to put your names out there, where they deserve to be ... in big, bold lights.
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS