It was a beautiful May day at Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania back in 1986.
I was looking forward to partaking in the annual May Day celebration at this college so infused with Welsh traditions. As a graduate student, this was my first year living in the undergrad dorms as a “Warden.” An oxymoron, this term Warden, since Bryn Mawr had an honor code and no real rules for me to enforce.
I was more of a House Mama for young women in their time of need.
Truth be told, there were very few “times of need” during my 2 years living at Bryn Mawr. While I supported a few undergrads, I was better known for my annual Dead Plant Sales (no green thumb here) and the Couch Potato Movie Fest during exam time. This was a favorite across campus as I provided good snacks, fun movies, and a much needed break for these really bright, over achieving students.
I appreciated everything about those Warden years, but most especially having my tuition, room and board offered in exchange for living on a beautiful campus.
There were a lot of traditions at Bryn Mawr which was one of the “Seven Sisters” colleges for women. I enjoyed participating in most of them, although never understood why my dorm had to “haze” me along with the freshman. After a week of tortured anxiety and teasing about what was to come, it was mostly silly (they made me wear brown. I dislike the color brown immensely) and I lost some sleep. Otherwise, it was fun and I was rewarded with lots of good food and hugs. (If only hazing was that sweet across all institutions).
I was especially looking forward to dancing around the May Pole on May Day.
Grad students had their own May Pole and I was surrounded by other Wardens and friends from my department. We shared our breakfast and champagne, dressed in white and readied ourselves to frolic amidst the ribbons. I had visions of skipping along as we worked together to create a beautiful weave of colorful ribbons.
They should have provided we innocents with a bit more instruction other than “make sure your move the ribbon up and down.”
Seriously, I was grateful to make it out alive and with my head intact.
When the whistle blew, all these white frocked women started running FAST. My breath grew jagged as I strongly raised my ribbon up and down. Keeping pace and weaving the damn May Pole was more than I bargained for. There was no mercy as all the onlookers cheered us on and yelled “keep up!”
I should’ve worn better undies as my white flouncy dress blew up to my waist.
I thought we’d be skipping, laughing, and gently floating our ribbons about. I guess I figured a halo of flowers would magically appear on our heads, crowning us as the May Day Goddesses we were. By the time we were done, half of us were bent over, hands on our knees and breathing hard. The others were laughing and offering high fives. You can guess what group I was in.
Despite my near death experience, it was a lovely day of celebration.
I knew May Day was a pagan tradition which occurs between the Spring Equinox (Ostara) and the upcoming Summer Solstice (Litha). Sometimes called Beltane, it is related to fertility as Spring is at its peak. What I didn’t know is that it also is used in countries like the UK and Germany to celebrate worker’s rights.
I wandered about the campus that day, drinking champagne, and watching women race around the May Pole.
The even had a May Hole to honor the lesbian students (before all the initials came into use). It is a lovely thing to participate in ritual, whether deeply familiar or totally new. When you are invited into someone else’s world to experience celebration, you are joined together for those moments. When a friend wished me a happy May Day today, this memory came flooding back.
Bringing a sense of appreciate for a life rich with stepping into ritual celebrations in worlds that are different than my own.
Ritual, celebration, and relationships allow you to remember that you are part of one human family and a part of this beautiful planet. They remind you to open your perception, stoke your curiosity, and engage with the unfamiliar. If only for one day.
I also remind you to check your undies if you’re racing around the May Pole in a cute white dress.
Have a beautiful May Day however you celebrate. If nothing is on your agenda, go check out what Pachamama is offering you. In my neck of the woods, Spring has sprung. The sky is beautiful, the day is warm, and the flowers are colorful.
I can celebrate this.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Ritual and ceremony have been part of the human experience since the beginning of history. There is plenty of research revealing the benefit of participating in both group and individual ritual. Helping to reduce stress in times of uncertainty, promoting social connectedness, grounding into shared values, and improving health. Even when the rituals seem meaningless, such as in research studies, they work. Ritual connects us to something ancient, larger than ourselves, and deepens meaning. Whether moving through a period of grief, honoring a coming of age, celebrating a religious festival, or that annual Thanksgiving family football game, ritual matters. Do your own research to see what ritual or ceremony does for your life.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
In September, I’m returning to the Temples of Humankind in Damanhur, Italy. It feels like an understatement to claim that this is a place of power, mystery, and majesty. Yet, I’ve found this to be true for myself and those I’ve met who’ve traveled within the extraordinary to the Temples and the community of Damanhur.
One cool Spring morning, I stepped on the treadmill at the gym looking forward to walking a few miles. Recovering from an injury, I had to walk at a moderate pace so I had brought my copy of What Is Enlightenment? magazine to explore. I always found something to inspire me within this publication focused upon consciousness, culture, and cosmos.
Stress is a natural experience in life. It’s often viewed as a doorway to disruption of wellbeing, peace of mind, and a clear navigational path in a challenging situation.
I’m a bit of a news hound these days. As one who hasn’t watched a newscast in years, I’m surprising myself. Ordinarily, I wait for the news to come to me. And it does. When something is important for me to know or respond to, I hear about it. Kind friends, clients, my husband, or a random stranger share a soundbite which cues me to look into a situation further. I’ve been very comfortable with this level of engagement for years now.
In the midst of our country’s woes, I’ve got Lucinda Williams singing in my head.
“You can’t rule me
you wanna go and tell me what’s good for me
you wanna tell me what I’m payin’ for
Well, the game is fixed, it’s plain to see
I ain’t playin’ no more”
I drove through a hail storm today. It began gently, offering a musical accompaniment to my journey. Intensifying, the hail noisily demanded my attention.
