Category Archives: Summer Solstice

A Summer Solstice Isis Rite

We’re not quite there yet, but I thought you might like to have this small rite early in case you’d like to find a special outdoor place to celebrate the coming solstice.

In Egypt, about 3000 BCE, at the latitude of ancient Memphis, the summer solstice coincided with the heliacal rising of Sirius, the star of Isis, the beginning of the all-important inundation, and the coming of the new year. It was a time of joy as people anticipated the coming harvest and other blessings from the Divine Ones.

In this rite, we celebrate with gratitude the fullness of summer in the dawning light of our closest star, the sun. Yet we also know that the ba of Isis—in Her holy star Sirius—is also present with us, though still unseen by most of us in the northern hemisphere.

The summer solstice sunset at Karnak temple

And, of course, Isis is a Sun Goddess, too.

Stuff You’ll Need

For this rite, you’ll need Nile water and a vessel, a flowery incense and something to safely burn it in, your sistrum, and a ripe avocado or sweet, juicy fruit like a peach, and something to cut it with. You’ll be eating the fruit in offering communion with Her, so make it something you like.

Your Temple Space

Ideally, this is an outdoor space where you can see the sun rise on summer solstice. Make sure you arrive before sunrise. If not possible, you can also do this indoors, visualizing the sunrise.

Arising

Rattle your sistrum softly at your heart. As you see the sun rise, stand and open your arms like the wings of Isis.

Ritualist: (Vibrating softly) ISET-RE, ISET-SOPDET! (Speaking softly) I welcome You with open heart into Your abode (moving your hands to cross upon your heart).

Purifying the Heart

Pour the Nile water into the vessel. Sprinkle water upon your own body, paying special attention to your heart.

Ritualist: Purify, purify, purify, purify! I am purified by the Mother of Rivers, the Lady of the Living Waters. Into Her care I release al pain, all anger, all frustration, all regret—all the sorrows of my heart. (Breathe deeply and repeat until you feel that it is so.)

The temple of my heart is made new, purified and opened unto Isis, the Lady of Abundance.

Awakening the Heart

Take up the sistrum again, light the incense. Rattling the sistrum softly at your heart (so much the better if you can feel the vibrations of the sistrum), say,

Ritualist: In the name of Isis-Re, in the name of Isis-Sothis, my heart awakens. (Breathe deeply and repeat until you feel that it is so.)

Be seated comfortably. Now listen and hear. Listen to the dawn and find the heartbeat of the Great Goddess Isis. Her noble heart beats all around you. In the awakening song of birds. In the wind moving through grass and trees. In the waters. In the deep earth.

Find the heartbeat of Isis.

Now, touch a pulse point on your own body and find your heartbeat.

Attune your heartbeat to Hers, slowing or speeding up as needed. (Just do the best you can; it doesn’t have to be perfect.)

Ritualist: (Speaking softly to yourself and to the Goddess) Iset Ib, my heart’s desire. Her heart. My heart.

I am aware in my heart. I am in power in my heart. I am aware and in power in my heart, which is the heart given to me by my mother (stating the name of your human mother)—and by my Great Mother Isis. 

Iset Ib, my heart’s desire. Her heart. My heart.

I am intelligent in my heart. I am compassionate in my heart. I am intelligent and compassionate in my heart, which is the heart which drums in rhythm with the heart of Great Isis.

Iset Ib, my heart’s desire. Her heart. My heart.

I am alive in my heart. I am full in my heart. I am alive and full in my heart, the center of all Being, the beginning of all Becoming. I am alive and full in my heart, and my heart knows all the joys and pleasures of my life. 

In the fullness of my Being, I am Becoming joyful. Isis arises—all is well. Isis comes—peace returns. I am sitting in the Throne of Abundance. Once again, I attune my human heart to Her Divine heart (pausing to do this). 

Now speak aloud at least ten things for which you are grateful. If you can name more than that, do so. Let yourself feel joy, satisfaction, pleasure, or pleasant surprise as you name each thing. Take time to re-attune your heart to the Goddess’ heart between each thanksgiving. When you are finished, continue:

Ritualist: Iset Ib, my heart’s desire. Her heart. My heart. I am aware in my heart and I am grateful in my heart. You have blessed me, Isis, and I bless You. Amma, Iset. Grant that it ever be so.

Communion of the Heart of Isis

Take out the avocado (or other fruit) and look upon it.

Ritualist: This fruit is the fruit of the holy persea tree, sacred unto Isis. It is the fruit of the tree from between whose branches rises the Soul of Isis—Sothis—and the Face of Isis—the Sun. The wise say that the sacred persea bears the Heart of Isis (elevating fruit), therefore when I hold this persea fruit in my hands, I hold the Heart of the Goddess. Rich and sweet, the persea fruit is indeed the Heart of the Beautiful One, the Heart of Abundant Summer.

Cut the fruit into five pieces and lay them upon the altar like the five-rayed Star of Isis.

Ritualist: O Isis-Re, O Isis-Sothis, You shared with me Your sacred heart (eating one piece of fruit). Spirit is joined to spirit (eating another piece of fruit). Mind is joined to mind (eating another piece of fruit).  Soul is joined to soul (eating another piece of fruit). Body is joined to body (eating the last piece of fruit). Heart joined to heart (crossing your hands over your heart).

Closing

Take up the sistrum and, beginning at your heart, rattle it in the four directions, above you and below you.

Ritualist: O Isis, You have filled my heart. You are indeed the Lady of Abundance.

Take up the vessel of water. Holding it at your heart, sprinkle water in the four directions, above you and below you.

Ritualist: O Isis, I ask that my heart remain open to Your heart, this day and every day. Amma, Iset. Grant that it be so.

Face east and the rising sun and the hidden star. Open your arms like the wings of Isis, then close them over your heart. Remove all traces of your presence, then depart in peace.

NOTE: This is a shortened version of the summer solstice rite from Isis Magic. For the more complete rite, see pages 344-351 in the second edition.

But we’ve been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring summer in



Isn't this great? I'd scheduled it some time ago to post just before Litha. Over the weekend, the wonderful Joanna Colbert beat me to it! Blogger, in its infinite wisdom, went ahead and posted it here and then wouldn't let me in, until this morning, to give Joanna credit. At any rate, I hope you enjoy and that your Litha is as wonderful as you could wish. I'll be spending time with G/Son and with my Sisters, so I expect it to be fantastic!

Please come on over and visit at my new blog: here at http://hecatedemeter.wordpress.com.

But we’ve been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring summer in



Isn't this great? I'd scheduled it some time ago to post just before Litha. Over the weekend, the wonderful Joanna Colbert beat me to it! Blogger, in its infinite wisdom, went ahead and posted it here and then wouldn't let me in, until this morning, to give Joanna credit. At any rate, I hope you enjoy and that your Litha is as wonderful as you could wish. I'll be spending time with G/Son and with my Sisters, so I expect it to be fantastic!

Please come on over and visit at my new blog: here at http://hecatedemeter.wordpress.com.

But we’ve been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring summer in



Isn't this great? I'd scheduled it some time ago to post just before Litha. Over the weekend, the wonderful Joanna Colbert beat me to it! Blogger, in its infinite wisdom, went ahead and posted it here and then wouldn't let me in, until this morning, to give Joanna credit. At any rate, I hope you enjoy and that your Litha is as wonderful as you could wish. I'll be spending time with G/Son and with my Sisters, so I expect it to be fantastic!

Please come on over and visit at my new blog: here at http://hecatedemeter.wordpress.com.

Early Harvest


And, so, just like that, we're headed, will-we-or-nil-we, towards Litha.

The great Sumer Solstice.

The fire festival, when Sol Invictus stands highest in the Summer sky.

In my tradition, this is the Feast of the First Harvest. (Is it so, for you, as well?) And so I started my day at the local farmers' market, buying (finally!) ripe and green tomatoes, corn for roasting, cucumbers for (mixed with my own parsley and mint) tzadziki, local pickles, and lettuce for which I imagine many a poet could compose odes. I came home and had fried green tomatoes and iced tea (Southern breakfast of champions) on my screen porch and then went out to weed the herb bed. After several hours of v. aromatic weeding, I came inside to make various kinds of simple syrup for all of July's cocktails: mint, basil, lavender, and dill. I harvested enough sage to make smudging sticks for everyone in my circle and enough dill, sage, and tarragon to make flavored butters for my own use and for Son and DiL. I am going to be so sore tomorrow that I may not be able to move. Good thing it's a day of writing, reading, doing more research.

For me, the first harvest is crucial.

We're here, halfway through the calendar year. We've either achieved some of the goals that we thought about/set back at Samhein/Yule, or we haven't. It's a good time to take stock, weed out the (fucking!) sorrel, (Kali-blasted!) bindweed, and (goddess-damn-it!) maple seedlings, and to begin to cut and use the lavender, basil, mint, and dill. It's time to decide if we need a new planting of basil (time on the treadmill, hours writing prose at work, focus on our family) or if we need to plant something else (learning runes, walking outside, networking, meditation) entirely.

We'll celebrate several later harvests, but, by then, the chance to correct course becomes more and more attenuated. Every ancestral cell in my Scandanavian-RNA body adores these longer, longer, longer days and shorter nights. And yet, and yet, and yet, the old women whose genes live on in me: those old women survived those long Winters because they knew how to pay attention to the early harvests and correct course if needed.

Here are my early harvest course corrections: Even more time on the treadmill, lots more time polishing legal prose, more spontaneous fun, and even more time at my altar.

What's up for you?

Picture found here.

Early Harvest


And, so, just like that, we're headed, will-we-or-nil-we, towards Litha.

The great Sumer Solstice.

The fire festival, when Sol Invictus stands highest in the Summer sky.

In my tradition, this is the Feast of the First Harvest. (Is it so, for you, as well?) And so I started my day at the local farmers' market, buying (finally!) ripe and green tomatoes, corn for roasting, cucumbers for (mixed with my own parsley and mint) tzadziki, local pickles, and lettuce for which I imagine many a poet could compose odes. I came home and had fried green tomatoes and iced tea (Southern breakfast of champions) on my screen porch and then went out to weed the herb bed. After several hours of v. aromatic weeding, I came inside to make various kinds of simple syrup for all of July's cocktails: mint, basil, lavender, and dill. I harvested enough sage to make smudging sticks for everyone in my circle and enough dill, sage, and tarragon to make flavored butters for my own use and for Son and DiL. I am going to be so sore tomorrow that I may not be able to move. Good thing it's a day of writing, reading, doing more research.

For me, the first harvest is crucial.

We're here, halfway through the calendar year. We've either achieved some of the goals that we thought about/set back at Samhein/Yule, or we haven't. It's a good time to take stock, weed out the (fucking!) sorrel, (Kali-blasted!) bindweed, and (goddess-damn-it!) maple seedlings, and to begin to cut and use the lavender, basil, mint, and dill. It's time to decide if we need a new planting of basil (time on the treadmill, hours writing prose at work, focus on our family) or if we need to plant something else (learning runes, walking outside, networking, meditation) entirely.

We'll celebrate several later harvests, but, by then, the chance to correct course becomes more and more attenuated. Every ancestral cell in my Scandanavian-RNA body adores these longer, longer, longer days and shorter nights. And yet, and yet, and yet, the old women whose genes live on in me: those old women survived those long Winters because they knew how to pay attention to the early harvests and correct course if needed.

Here are my early harvest course corrections: Even more time on the treadmill, lots more time polishing legal prose, more spontaneous fun, and even more time at my altar.

What's up for you?

Picture found here.

Early Harvest


And, so, just like that, we're headed, will-we-or-nil-we, towards Litha.

The great Sumer Solstice.

The fire festival, when Sol Invictus stands highest in the Summer sky.

In my tradition, this is the Feast of the First Harvest. (Is it so, for you, as well?) And so I started my day at the local farmers' market, buying (finally!) ripe and green tomatoes, corn for roasting, cucumbers for (mixed with my own parsley and mint) tzadziki, local pickles, and lettuce for which I imagine many a poet could compose odes. I came home and had fried green tomatoes and iced tea (Southern breakfast of champions) on my screen porch and then went out to weed the herb bed. After several hours of v. aromatic weeding, I came inside to make various kinds of simple syrup for all of July's cocktails: mint, basil, lavender, and dill. I harvested enough sage to make smudging sticks for everyone in my circle and enough dill, sage, and tarragon to make flavored butters for my own use and for Son and DiL. I am going to be so sore tomorrow that I may not be able to move. Good thing it's a day of writing, reading, doing more research.

For me, the first harvest is crucial.

We're here, halfway through the calendar year. We've either achieved some of the goals that we thought about/set back at Samhein/Yule, or we haven't. It's a good time to take stock, weed out the (fucking!) sorrel, (Kali-blasted!) bindweed, and (goddess-damn-it!) maple seedlings, and to begin to cut and use the lavender, basil, mint, and dill. It's time to decide if we need a new planting of basil (time on the treadmill, hours writing prose at work, focus on our family) or if we need to plant something else (learning runes, walking outside, networking, meditation) entirely.

We'll celebrate several later harvests, but, by then, the chance to correct course becomes more and more attenuated. Every ancestral cell in my Scandanavian-RNA body adores these longer, longer, longer days and shorter nights. And yet, and yet, and yet, the old women whose genes live on in me: those old women survived those long Winters because they knew how to pay attention to the early harvests and correct course if needed.

Here are my early harvest course corrections: Even more time on the treadmill, lots more time polishing legal prose, more spontaneous fun, and even more time at my altar.

What's up for you?

Picture found here.

Litha’s Coming


I woke up this morning aware that we're only a few weeks out from Litha, the longest day of the year. Here in my corner of the myth-crammed MidAtlantic, the period from Yule to Imbolc seems very long, and then, from Imbolc until Beltane, although things speed up, it seems as if I still spend much of the time looking, hoping, dreaming, wishing: focused on every tiny sign of Spring, turning the appearance of a single snowdrop or a haze of green on the bleached-bone frames of the beech trees into a cause for celebration. And then, ABRACADABRA, it's here and time seems to speed by.

It's likely my Swedish ancestors dancing the spiral dance in my DNA, but I have to admit that I love, best of all, these long, long, long sunlit days. In Sweden, I read once, no one sleeps when the sun near the Arctic Circle stay up in the sky all day. People have late picnics in the woods and gather berries and get in boats to row across to Denmark to get beer. I don't really care whether or not it's "factual"; in my cosmology, it's "true" and I've picked those berries and rowed those boats often and often sitting at my altar or knitting sweaters in the dark of deep Winter. Something about Litha connects me deeply to that place where "I've" never been.

This time of year is, as well, an amazing time to just sit out in the evening and enjoy the garden. The voodoo lilies are just finishing up. The magnolias that worried me so and over which I did so much magic are in bloom, an embarrassment of lemon, vanilla, and gloss. The herbs are almost out of control. The Dutch iris have replaced the bearded iris. The astilbe is a white, lacy froth of abundance; the gardenias are still going strong, and the day lilies have giant buds that will open any day now. I should have lilies -- Casa Blanca and Adios Nonino -- in a few more days.

Soon, too soon, the days will start to get a bit shorter, but the daisies and black-eyed susans will show up, the sunflowers will exult, and the purple obedient flowers will make the bees and hummingbirds happy.

And then, and then, but, no, I'm not going to go there -- yet.

For now, I'm going to sit in my twilit garden, smell the magnolias and gardenias, listen to the birds, watch the wisteria bushes creep towards each other on the top of the garden shed, and store all of this up. It's an old magic that I do, creating the ability to get myself through those hard-as-iron February days when I've seen nothing blooming for months and I know that I still have a ways to go. I'll release them the way you release any spell from the magic bottle into which you crammed and stoppered it, set aside for when it's needed.

I shan't be gone long. You come, too.

Picture found here.