A brief history of Valentine's Day

Come back with me to ancient Rome, and the festivals that honored Juno - wife of the great Jupiter, possibly better known to you by their Greek names, Zeus and Hera.

Juno is the goddess of childbirth and marriage. February is a month of endings and beginnings, of the quickening of imminent spring and the falling away of winter, of the time when the land begins to warm and animals begin their search for a mate. (Must keep in mind that this is in the Italian climate, for those of us northern-dwellers who are well aware winter has not yet lost its grip.) Tradition has it that the feast of Juno Februara, held on February 14, had single women place their names into boxes where they were drawn by a man, and the couple would spend the day together.

Lupercalia, a fertility festival, was held from February 13-15, and is fairly bizarre even by Roman standards. Its purpose was to cleanse the city of evil spirits and promote fertility. It was in honor of the Lupa, the she-wolf that suckled the twins Romulus and Remus who are the legendary founders of Rome. It was celebrated near the Cave of the Lupercal on the Palatine hill, where the city was founded. The rite itself, described by Plutarch, is one of those scenes that makes me want to time-travel to the ancient world:

Lupercalia, of which many write that it was anciently celebrated by shepherds, and has also some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. [Note: Arcadia is a region in central Greece; 'lykos' is Greek for 'wolf.'] At this time many of the noble youths and of the magistrates run up and down through the city naked, for sport and laughter striking those they meet with shaggy thongs. And many women of rank also purposely get in their way, and like children at school present their hands to be struck, believing that the pregnant will thus be helped in delivery, and the barren to pregnancy.

So, ladies, today while you're smelling your roses - the news has just informed me that this day is a multi-billion-dollar industry what with flowers, chocolate and gifts - think of a simpler time, where well-bred boys ran naked through the streets and you hoped to be struck with fertility by the flayed skin of a sacrificed goat. 

Of course the modern holiday gets its name from St Valentine, who may or may not have existed, but the story goes like this: in the Middle Ages, a priest named Valentine was secretly marrying young men who didn't want to go to war - married men were at that time exempt from the 'draft' if they were married - and when the lords discovered what he was doing, had him thrown into prison. While awaiting his inevitable beheading for treason, he reportedly fell in love with a servant girl, with whom he exchanged anonymous notes - the reason we give anonymous Valentine's cards today.

Love is a magical thing. It both inspires us and fills us with despair; it has been a driving force behind human actions since the beginning of our species. When I was a little girl, my mother gave me this piece of wisdom: love is not an emotion, it is an action. It requires us to do, not just to feel. As the song goes, love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night. To change our way of caring about ourselves. 

May you have a day full of love, and feel inspired to tell those you love that you care. As for me, I have a date - a first date - and I am daring to be excited. Because love is all about possibility. 

Cold Moon

It seems this is the first full moon to fall on Christmas since 1977. Can't see it tonight, unfortunately. It's been cloudy for most of the night here in my corner of Colorado.

Interestingly, I moved from Florida to Colorado in 1977. I'd just turned six, so I don't remember it.

It snowed today, a relatively rare white Christmas. Only an inch or two, but it was welcome all the same - there's something about the crisp cold air and a soft falling snow that just makes the holiday feel more...authentic.

I grew up Catholic, but I've been Pagan for many years now, and no longer celebrate Christmas as a religious holiday. Nevertheless, the day holds a special place in my heart and memories, and I struggled for some years with the dilemma of whether or not I could continue to observe it. I've decided there's no reason why I can't embrace the turning of the wheel at Yule and still enjoy the spirit of goodwill of Christmas.

There's a thousand articles detailing all the ways Christmas was stolen from pagan traditions, etc., and I have no desire to beat that horse here. Rather, I'd like to think about what it means to observe traditions.

Yule  - the long dark night, followed by the promise of longer days - is one of my favorite days of the year. Near my house is a park with a lovely little square, marked by standing stones at the cardinal directions and the sunrise and sunsets of the solstices. The markers aren't perfectly aligned, but I appreciate the spirit of the thing. This is the philosophy I carry into much of my spirituality; the spirit in which a thing is intended.

The value of tradition is found in its connection to the past. Generation to generation, we pass on beliefs and behaviors with the intention of keeping our families connected across the span of time. It's a beautiful thing, mostly. It's the reason I still sing Christmas carols, even though I no longer believe in the stories they tell.

In my journey, I'm looking to create new traditions. I've been a haphazard practitioner of my faith up to now, and as we move into a new year, new resolutions, one of mine is to embrace spirituality on a daily basis. This blog is the beginning of that journey.

To be continued!