Oh goodness, it is HOT! Hot, hot HOT, I say! I've watched the seasons since I was a child and all I can say is -- its hotter now than it ever was when I was a child, for this time of year. Climate changes are a reality.
Yet, even with the heat index topping 115 some days this week, it is also one of the most beautiful times of year to be seen. A time of growing, a time of grains, fruits and vegetables ripening. A time with health, well-being and even our mood is governed by the ever-present Sun God's smile. It is a time to watch the goals we made in February become the fruits of our labor and sometimes, to be parched to death in the light of day, if they are not carefully tended in these heated summer months.
I'm a summer baby, born in mid-July, hard on the cusp between Cancer and Leo. I often say that I am as confused and dual-natured as any Gemini or Pisces. And, as a mother of five babies, only two of whom were born in summer, I can only have the deepest compassion for my own mother, who was heavily pregnant with me in this steamy time of year! Thank you, Mom! I truly do appreciate the way you suffered to get me here, alive and whole, so that I could grow up to serve my Gods and my community! I couldn't do this without that sacrifice of personal comfort in the name of growing something to full summer's fruition -- namely, me.
As the fruits of our labor grow before our very eyes, we may note some that grow like wild, needing vines and tendrils pruned back on occasion so they don't choke other, less vigorous, more delicate plants. Others, we watch wither, turn brown and die -- sometimes even with vast amounts of loving care, kindness and attention. They simply weren't meant to bear fruit. Whether for the nutrients too abundant or too lacking in the soil, a seed that simply wasn't able to properly germinate and grow or too much or too little water, our garden grows both as we tend it and as the Gods will. Those of us that observe our garden even as we observe our own growth, take this process very personally. Often, we find ourselves empathizing strongly with our plants, truly and closely identifying ourselves with their patterns, be they strong or weak, heavily blooming and fruited or barren, deeply and firmly rooted or easily uprooted by the elements, they become literal extensions of our own experiences in life. Sometimes, a simple transplant will help a plant to thrive. Other times, we simply have to take the death for what it is and either plant a new plant that still has time to bear fruit before the growing season is over, or accept that we must start over in the new year. Either way, we are what we grow just as, in many ways, we are what we eat.
I encourage you to think about the perverbial seeds you planted just before Valentine's Day this year. What projects did you start? What friends or business connections did you make? What things did you begin to work to manifest in your life in terms of personal changes for the better (or worse)? Now, take a strong inventory. What grew? What didn't? Did it grow wild or struggle? Is it hard work to make it thrive or was it as simple as sticking a seed in the soil, giving it a little water and light and watching it go nuts? Is it bearing the fruit you intended when you planted it or is it not even flowering yet? The answers to these assessments may give you surprising results. Others may not surprise you in the least, but you can definately see where you went right or wrong and what needs to be done about it. Other times, you may need to consult an "expert" to make certain you're doing everything right to truly manifest your desired outcomes.
There is an old nursery rhyme that reminds me often of the steps for proper growth of my "seeds" in life:
"Mary Mary quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row."
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row."
Though this short poem was written about Mary Tudor from the court in England, that isn't what it reminds me about. What it reminds me is the following: Silver bells are delicate and a symbol of the Goddess, as well as a draw for the Fae and cockle shells, in addition to being much needed calcium for some plants when ground up and put in the soil, are also an indicator that some plants need sandy soil, not my native clay, to grow properly and are also a symbol of the God. The phrase at the end, pretty maids all in a row, which refers -- for me -- to the flower-faced beauties of the season, growing in proper alignment to their environment and each other, a strong reminder indeed to keep one's self in balance with the elements and our commmunity, as well as our Universal and the calling of the Gods.
I hope this self-assessment of the season gives you food for healthy thought! May the bright blessings of the Sun God shine light into the darkness of your life and help you grow on to bigger and better things! And about the suffering involved in dealing with the Summer's heat? Don't worry... drink plenty of water and keep chanting to yourself...Fall is coming sooner than you think!
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