
At this time of year, like many people, perhaps because of some evolutionary memory that we all have, I love to spend time cooking and baking and doing all the special things that people of all religions and none still partake in, at the darkest time of year---tending to home and hearth and, in the spirit of Hera, keeping the home fires burning. Feasting together, from pagan times onwards, has been how we humans have warded off cold, uncertainty, feelings of lack, and the precariousness of our existence in the great cosmos.
Yesterday was the Winter Solstice, the shortest day and the longest night, when our pagan ancestors celebrated the turning towards spring and lengthening of days that begins tomorrow. It is the day when our earth, hanging amidst the infinite lonely galaxies, swings upon its axis and turns towards light and hope, and our sun smiles back and graces us once more, for another cosmic cycle.
Five thousand years ago, the solstice sun's sacred climb to the sky was watched from Newgrange in Ireland (an ancient architectural wonder, which predates the pyramids and is still standing and functional) by humans who did not have our distractions and separations from the fundamentals of existence. On this day of days, deep in the inner chamber at Newgrange, golden dawnlight floods through the roofbox, built by our precision-astronomer ancestors for this very occasion when their window and the first rays of the rising sun are in perfect alignment---for one day every year, suddenly, all's aglow with golden sunshine, illuminating the megalithic iconography on the walls and enchanting the expectant faces of the 21st century pilgrims within....and all seems possible again.
If the builders of this mysterious place could speak to us through the millenia, they might quip, you cannot eat nintendo Wiis, or iPods! Don't forget, it is the sun that brings forth your food from the cold dark womb of winter and allows you look forward to another season of life!
Van Gogh's beautiful painting The Sower, captures the same pagan spirit that acknowledges the wonders of creation---a humbler humanity bowing to the divine order of things, which does not take creation for granted and recognises that constant miracle that is the food we eat. The painting, even its title, has an archetypal quality unusual in Van Gogh, evoking a similar affect in the viewer as the beautiful tarot paintings of Pamela Coleman Smyth. There seems to be something in it that we know to be true, that we have always known. Van Gogh gives the sun glorious centre-stage and the eponymous sower is depicted as a servant of the great forces of nature, deferential, almost marginal, not the anthrocentric 'man as master of creation'.
As the bleak winds of economic upheaval sweep the floor of presumption from beneath us and leave us fearful and disempowered, huddled in our uncertainty like our ancient ancestors, the solace of the table and of good company can give us comfort and solidity, just as it did them. The shiny sparkle has faded from our Big Bling era, now drawing to a close, leaving us slightly embarrassed that we were ever so foolish as to join in something so tawdry. And as always, we will return to the things that matter and the things that ground us and nourish us.
Now that the irrational exuberance of the last decade has fizzled out and exhausted us, forcing us all to slow down, we may have instead the gift of more time, to spend on what is truly worthwhile---perhaps the pleasures of home-cooking and days punctuated by the ceremonies of the table. They are still there for us, even though we abandoned them for a while.
Perhaps this is one of those times when a shift in human consciousness occurs----one of those amazing seismic shifts---in which we will reconnect with our earth which provides our food, and stop allowing the exploitative greed of some people to destroy it. Could it be, that on this Solstice, a new era is dawning, in which humanity will again reclaim the wonder and love of creation that our ancestors felt when they rejoiced in the icy, clear, dawn skies of the solstice, and watched the sun regain its strength and felt gratitude to the earth which would give us food again next year?
You can see the sun light up the Newgrange chamber at this page on the Heritage Ireland website(naturally, it doesn't do justice to the real experience.)
Blessings on your table this Solstice!
The Intellectual Foodie
www.your-healthy-eating-helper.com





