It's that time of year again

To the pagans of ancient times, the end of April and the end of October were special times: this was their celebration of the beginning of Spring and Autumn, the start and mid-point of a year, the celebrations that had to do with balance.

We don't think like that anymore. One day is like the next, one season like any other, even if we all have our personal preferences. We live by the clock, not by the sun; we are aware of the time of year, but never of its significance. We moderns are so arrogant, we have no idea how ignorant we are.

Prior to the railroads, we lived by the sun. We arose when it was light and retired when it was dark. Our days in winter were much shorter than those in summer, and we acted and interacted accordingly. Now, we have not only standardized our "time", we forcefully distort (e.g., Daylight Savings Time), regardless of what it costs us financially, personally, or even spiritually.

OK, I outed myself: I'm old school. The particular numbers on a clock, the position of the clock's hands don't really mean a whole helluva lot to me. It's not because I don't care, not at all, but rather because it doesn't matter.

Six in the morning? Some people get up, others continue to sleep. Twelve noon? Some people are looking for (or enjoying) lunch, others are back at work or waiting. The evening news comes at five, six, seven or eight ... it doesn't matter. We pay little attention anyhow. The news only tells us whether we can move into evening-relax mode or have dinner or, well, whatever.

But for me, today, Walpurgisnacht (Walpurgis' Night) is always special. It is a forgotten holiday, but a traditionally mystical-magical day (night). We have retained part of that magic in May Day Dancing and festivals, but of course not in America, because May Day is also the "communist" Labor Day. Our modern, sterile, ignorant-of-tradition, and ignorant repression of the natural cycle of nature have obscured and thereby made meaningless the inspiring beauty and enlivening of nature's rhythms.

In truth, I feel sorry for all those contemporaries who can only live in a clock-determined, clock-driven world. I am saddened by all those who cannot escape their self-created prisons of time. I am disheartened that I cannot make clear to them that they have enslaved themselves to an illusion we call time.

Many people that I know are enamored by and love their radio-controlled watches and clocks, because, well, you really know what time it is. That this "absolute time" is a mere average of 11 different "nuclear clocks" should give us pause to wonder just how exact and precise an average really is. If nothing else, it is a fixation on a detail that merely obscures the bigger picture: the wonderful and wondrous cycles of nature.

This is what I think of on this particular day of the year. Not because of the absurdity of our modern obsessions, but because of the respect it gives me for those who came before and who understood.

Yes, that's our modern malady: we know, but we really don't understand.

May day

I love today. It's one of the nicest holidays we have here in Europe, and at the same time it is a call for help, for rescue. As with so many things, we can't have it both ways.

The 30th of April, of course, is Walpurgis Night ... I know you all knew that ... and it's still (fortunately) celebrated in many areas of the Continent. Oh sure, there is a lot of demon driving-away going on, but it is the "official" end of winter in these climes. Reason enough to celebrate. In good European tradition, if you are going to party long into the night, why not just party through the next day as well. And so it goes, that many communities with have their Dance into May, so that today, can be properly observed as a holiday; that is, by doing nothing.

I have no problem living amongst the non-Calvinists and non-Puritans. I've thought about it long and hard, and to be perfectly honest, I can't think of a single good thing that's come of those ideas. Psychologically, Mr. Calivn was a bit of basket case, but that never stopped anybody from declaring the crazy person the bearer of The Big Guy's word. True, He does have a habit of picking outsiders, but not a one of them was looney. That should have been a tip-off, but who am I to say.

No, what pleases me even more about today, is that International Labor has chosen it to be their day to celebrate. Once again, it's the world, and it's the US who just can't fit in. I know, I know, there are lots of folks across the Pond who would drop dead of shame if it were even intimated that they may have something to do with the Red Terror. If Irony weren't dead, we'd be astounded that the only Communists left are the biggest closest Capitalists going: the Chinese, but what we won't do to not offend our preferred trading partners.

Thanks to a good friend, I was pointed to a statement by a Republican congressman who maintains that over 80 of his Democratic colleagues are in fact Communists. I don't know how he knows. But what I do know is that he has no idea about communists, or politics, or economics, or ... he's simply proof positive that even nut-cases can find a job, even if the job isn't a real one.

Yes, Walpurgis Night is a night for pagan revelry, and the day after the night before is a chance to put work in its place. The truth of the matter is that the Grand Master of the Misunderstood, our friend Karl, got it right: we should work to live, but we should never live to work ... but, oh, I'm sorry, only my European friends can think about that now. My American friends have to wait until September.