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In
this month, the first
after the New Year, Amergin sings, "I am a threatening noise of the sea. I have been a wave breaking on the beach."
When Amergin speaks of the waves breaking on the beach, or the threatening noise of the sea, we can hear that sound in our minds. It seems to echo in our memories as primitive and haunting. We can hear the wave pounding on the cliffs. The harshness of that pounding is amplified in the silence of winter.
It is that pounding at the edge of change of which Amergin speaks. And it is that edge we now face as we have come to the end of the light half of the year and stand facing the darkness.
Life and Death, beginnings and endings, summer and winter, alternating stages in the process of existence, are both necessary and complementary to each other. The interplay between them affects everything. We associate darkness with death. As ocean waves crash against the cliff they plunge to the depths of the sea in their cycle of return.
We can view that edge as a boundary between the light and dark halves of the year. The "noise of the sea," the crashing of the ocean wave against that edge, serves as a warning to us, reminding us that we must prepare for a change of season.
So the waxing of this moon brings to us awareness of the coming change and warns us to prepare. This means a letting go. It asks us to release our heightened energy, which has fueled us in our growth cycle, to let go of our control and, as the ocean waves sink back into the depths of the ocean womb, await rebirth at the proper time. This is something we experience every year and at the same time every year we also see life triumph once more. This gives us a sense of trust in the cycle. We know that the absence of light will bring about a difference in our awareness, which will allow us to dive into the depths of our memories, causing us to reflect upon our feelings, thoughts, and actions, for surely, without taking the time for processing and assimilating our past experiences, how would we learn and grow, or move forward to any coming newness in our lives?
As the moon waxes, the "noise of the sea" grows louder, alerting us that we are now approaching this edge between the light and the dark, the boundary between life and death. With the full moon we accept that we must release and let go of our desire to hold on to our energetic growth. And finally, as the moon wanes we step forward into the heart of the darkness. Now prepared, we open ourselves to the experience of the Dark.
I AM A SOUND OF THE SEA
Calmest cold of deepest deep;
Sinuous swishing of sea snake sidling;
Baleful bark of sorrowing seal;
Shrill shrieking of temerous tern;
Bounding breaker on ragged rock.
On the earth, in the air,
Through the fire, by the water,
I am TERROR, the first month's daughter.
© Chris Carol 1979.
© 1948, 1966 by International Authors N.Y.
Canna-reed is ready for cutting in November.
Reed is a symbol of royalty.
Tree from which arrows are cut, appropriate as a living Sun-God
shooting off arrows in all directions as a symbol of sovereignty.
The number twelve has a sense of established power.
(White Goddess)
Tallest
of the grasses, it is associated with water.
It has a long tradition as a wand of authority.
A symbol of recorded time as papyrus is made from reed.
A broken reed is a broken promise, a loss of trust, a seeping
away of authority.
A masculine element in the tree cycle.
This period includes Samhain in its cycle.
The reed is earthly power and authority. (Fruits of the Moon
Tree)
With
Reed there is a union of complimentary opposites.
It is the roaring of the sea, the dynamism of that which is
forever steady. It is the
subtle union of the conscious world and unconscious reality existing
side by side. It is a sign of growth and good health. It is a sign of harmony between this realm and
those beyond. There is a
unity of purpose and will. Inner
direction and outer manifestation seem to flow together in a
harmonious fashion. The
main challenge is that you may be distracted by the beauty along the
way and that you may forget the purpose of the journey.
There may be inner turmoil and anxiety, but the solution is to
be found in a sense of purpose and direction.
Botanical
Information
The reed of the Ogham is the common reed.
This is a giant grass, with stems as high as 12 feet.
It grows in marshy areas, where it forms dense stands.
Like most other grasses, the vertical stems live only a single
year, dying in the autumn and being replaced with new green shoots in
the spring. The dead
stems rattle and whisper in late autumn winds. It
is in the Grass family.
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