Happy Autumn Equinox! What a blessing the rains have brought, ushering in the change of seasons in such a cleansing way. We stand at the threshold to the most liminal time of year, balanced now with the forces of day and night in equal proportion. Our outward waking personality is busy harvesting and preparing the abundance that will carry us through Winter, as the dreaming side of our nature moves to the forefront of our awareness, preparing us to receive the visions and clarity that will guide our next year of growth. This is also Mabon, the second harvest ritual of three within the Pagan wheel of the year, the final being Samhain, an official end to the harvest and the turning of the year. Mabon is the Pagan Thanksgiving, the time when our harvest, along with all that went into its cultivation, is acknowledged, celebrated, and appreciated. In the times when abundance related more to the food we were able to cultivate and preserve than to the money we use now to purchase it, it was understood that our success depended on a combination of careful planning, hard work, and a strong relationship with the Earth Mother, who holds our lives in her hands and rules over what may blossom and what will wither, or never germinate. Reciprocity is the key to balance within relationship, and the same is true when we are considering our relationship with the earth, and to the abundance she grants. When we express our gratitude, and offer gestures of loving respect in return for our personal harvest, we are making sacred relationship with the natural world and her rhythms, as well as with the part of our own psyches that understands how to be satisfied with what we have. Like a sacred pact, this reverence blesses the path before us with joy, interconnection, and trust, preparing the ground for the new seeds we will surely need to plant in the next cycle.
Let me tell you a story about what may happen when we skip this step. This folktale was written in 1979 by Terry Jones, and adds an interesting spin on the tradition of the Corn Dolly as a presence and offering at harvest time.
“A Farmer was cutting his corn, when he thought he could hear someone crying fear away. Well, he kept on cutting the corn, and the crying got louder and louder until he had only one more shock of corn to cut, and it seemed as if the crying were coming right from it. So he peered into the last bit of corn and sure enough, there was a little creature made of corn stalks, sitting sobbing its heart out.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ asked the farmer.
The little creature looked up and said: ‘You don’t care,’ and went on crying.
The farmer was a kindly man, so he said: Tell me what your trouble is, and perhaps there is something I can do.’
‘You farmers don’t care what happens to us corn dollies,’ said the creature.
Now the farmer had never seen a corn dolly before, so he said: ‘What makes you think that?’
The Corn dolly looked up and said: ‘We live in the standing corn, we keep it safe and do no harm to anyone, and yet every year you farmers come with your sharp scythes and cut down the corn and leave us poor corn dollies homeless.’
The farmer replied: ‘We have to cut the corn to make the flour to make the bread we eat. And even if we didn’t cut it, the corn would wither away in the autumn and you corn dollies would still be homeless.’
But the corn dolly burst into tears again and said: ‘Just because we’re small and made of straw, you think you can treat us anyhow, and leave us with nowhere to live in the cold winter.’
The farmer said: ‘I’ll find somewhere for you to live.’ And he picked up the corn dolly and took it to the barn and said: Look! You can live here and be snug and warm all through the winter.’
But the corn dolly said: ‘You live in a fine house made of stone, but just because us corn dollies are small and made of straw, you don’t think we’re good enough to live in a proper house.’
The farmer said: ‘Not at all,’ and he picked up the corn dolly and carried it into his house and sat it on the window-sill in the kitchen.
‘There,’ he said, ‘you can live there.’
But the corn dolly scowled and said: ‘Just because we’re small and made of straw, you think we’re not good enough to sit with you and your wife.’
The farmer said: ‘Not at all,’ and he picked up the corn dolly and carried it to the fireside, and he pulled up a chair and sat the corn dolly down between himself and his wife. But still the corn dolly was not happy.
‘What’s the matter now?’ asked the farmer.
‘Just because we’re small and made of straw,’ said the corn dolly, ‘you’ve sat me on a hard chair, while you and your wife sit on soft chairs.’
‘Not at all,’ said the farmer, and he gave the corn dolly a soft chair. But still the corn dolly was not happy.
‘Is there still something the matter?’ asked the farmer.
‘Yes,’ said the corn dolly. ‘Just because I’m small and only made of straw, you’ve sat me over here, while you and your wife sit next to the fire and keep nice and warm.’
The farmer said: ‘Not at all. You can sit wherever you like,’ and he picked the corn dolly up and put it next to the fire. And just then a spark flew out of the fire and landed on the corn dolly. And, because it was only made of stew, it burst into flames, and, because it was only very small, it was all gone before the farmer or his wife could do anything to save it.”
I love a good story, and this one sheds light on some important aspects of harvest in our lives. First, the tradition of the corn dolly is an old one that has made a resurgence with the craft movement of the1960s. It stems from Pagan rituals honoring the end of harvest and the energy of the God principle, the grains that grow and are cut, sacrificing their lives to nourish us and the soil, so that its fecundity and nurturing sustenance can continue for another year. The last stalks of corn, or sheafs of grain, were often cut by the throwing of a scythe, and the one to succeed in making the final cut was said to gain luck, or in some cases a marriage in the coming year. The straw and the soft, feathery stalks that emerge from the top were saved, taken to the farmer’s house where they were given in exchange for a meal, and then plaited into intricate designs, often fashioned to look like a doll. The doll was a representation of the harvest and would either be hung above the door, or in the entrance to the barn, as an abundance charm, or paraded and used as a centerpiece for harvest celebrations. It could also be “put to bed,” until the following Spring.
In looking into the notion of giving the corn dolly a place for Winter, I found two interesting ritual aspects. One is the Scottish folk tradition of the Cailleach, a hag that has origins as a crone Goddess. This merges with the meaning of the corn dolly when the harvest is collected late, near Samhain, and it is given to the farmer who is last to complete the harvest. The Cailleach has to be cared for through the Winter to ensure that the land will revitalize with the Spring. It is something like an insult or burden, but as well an important task. When the harvest was collected by all on time, the corn dolly would be made in the form of a maiden instead of a Cailleach. In the Americas, the tradition of corn dolls also has a strong history, both within the Indigenous cultures and with farmers. The American corn husk dollies are meant to bring protection to the home, the family, and the livestock. The doll becomes the home for the spirit of the harvest, based on the notion that when all the grain has been cut this spirit becomes homeless and lost. This is another reason why the doll is made after the last crop has been claimed. It is meant to be brought into the farmer’s home and cared for indoors through the wintering over of the fields. Then, in the early Spring, it is gently given back to the land, as an offering to help revitalize and fecundate the next planting season.
What is the purpose of an offering? Simply defined, an offering is an expression of reverence and gratitude made to the unseen forces that preside over the rhythms of life on which we depend. It is one way we can strengthen our relationship with the Divine and especially with the Earth Mother, whose permission we lovingly court, so that our creations come to full blossom, and that which we release is transmuted. It is the respectful gift we give first, before asking for favors, and the gratitude we share in celebration when we acknowledge how our needs and hopes have been kindly met. In this way, we engage with the sacred as family, and make our interconnection more visceral. This helps us to remember that we are part of a larger dream, and makes it personal for us rather than abstract. It is an act of magic and reciprocity, allowing us to shape and feed our intentions. Poppet making is a powerful practice for this kind of magic, making material and personal that which we desire to create. It’s like taking a dream out of the realm of imagination and making it more concrete in our everyday lives. We do this through the patient work of our hands and hearts, partnered with choosing the living natural elements appropriate for our purposes. Dolls can be used to manifest, holding an intention and directing it in a specific direction, or to absorb what we need to release, providing a safe form of sacrifice to return unwanted energies to the earth.
This work is also a way of tending to our cycles of ebb and flow with more awareness, while making alliance with the principles of creation. It helps us to acknowledge the abundance we have and to separate desire from need. When we do this, we feel more abundant and satisfied. When we don’t take the time, it becomes easy to remain in a state of constant dissatisfaction and hunger for more, an energy which often leads us to miss out on enjoying the wealth we do have. Not so long ago, the stakes of the harvest were high enough to mean survival through Winter or not. In many places, where food is accessible in a grocery store and people generally have enough to get by, it is easy to forget this. Yet, whatever we are harvesting, the fruits are sweeter when we take time to notice what we’ve earned and what we’ve been given. Without this, we can remain hungry and dissatisfied, even with riches surrounding us.
And this is the other issue that is well represented in The Corn Dolly story. The little lost creature spends so much time lamenting what she doesn’t have, and longing for what others possess, that she forgets to consider what is right for her and what is not. She cannot be satisfied, and her striving keeps her from acknowledging the wealth she is offered. Perhaps one cannot change one’s soul fate ultimately (and hers was to be an offering), but her desire burned her up before her divine purpose could be truly fulfilled. She was not even able to enjoy the care she was given. I wonder how often we also find ourselves in this position, in one area of life or another.
So here are some modern Mabon questions to consider: In what aspects of your life are you experiencing a harvest of that which you have been carefully cultivating? How might you offer an expression of gratitude and acknowledgement for this abundance? In return for what you have received from the Earth Mother this season, how can you give care to the spirit of the harvest when you enter the quiet dreaming of Winter? Perhaps it’s as simple as making a gratitude altar to remind you to savor and celebrate your abundance, or having a Mabon season feast with loved ones. Perhaps you can make you own corn dolly from corn husks and braided grain sheafs to hang above your door as an abundance blessing or protection charm, and as an acknowledgement that we are in relationship with the land at all times and sacrifice is inherent in our nourishment.
Or, if you are still cultivating your harvest, spend some time visualizing what you truly need, and find or create a small object to represent it. It could be a dollar bill, a drawing, or a natural object that holds your meaning. Make a corn dolly, braiding or shaping corn husks and sheafs, and tying into her this object, as if she were pregnant with the abundance you intend to manifest. Visualize her growing this intention for you. Wrap her in a soft cloth and place her in a dark place close to where you sleep, where she can be comfortable and cared for all Winter, as she grows your dream. In the early Spring, return her to the earth with prayers, song, poetry, or whatever supplication feels right to you. Perhaps add to your offering the most precious elements we have to give as humans, our own tears, hair, or even a drop of blood. Plant flowers on this spot if you can, and as they bloom, trust that what you most need will be provided.
May your harvest provide you just what you need, and the best of what you desire,
the eleventh house
-This blog was written by Melusina Gomez. You can learn more about her work and healing practices at www.metzmecatl.com