LETTING GO OF MAY 2023
by contemplativeinquiry
Where I live, the hawthorn is losing its blossom. It looks like a kind of death, but is in fact just another phase in the life cycle of this plant. Its goal is to bear fruit. For many years, as part of my regular Druid practice, I worked with a wheel of the year mandala involving sixteen plants (mostly trees, many of these being ogham trees (1,2). Hawthorn covered the period from 1-23 May. In a previous post I have also looked at the special case of the Glastonbury thorn, with which I felt a strong personal relationship before it was vandalised (3).
In his The Underworld Initiation (4), R. J. Stewart suggests that we see all members of the rose family as sharing the same symbolism – showing in nature a sequence of promise, pain and fulfilment: blossom, thorn and fruit. (For me it seems that the apparent dying back to bear fruit is the ‘pain’, if that’s the right word, rather than the slightly extraneous thorns. Maybe that’s too literal, or maybe I’m identifying too much with the plant as subject).
I notice that my own tree mandala, developing from a kind of dream time, includes three members of the family: blackthorn (8-30 April), hawthorn (1-23 May) and apple (1-23 August). Indeed my original version had the wild rose for midsummer (16 June – 8 July), before I replaced it with the more conventional oak. Yet in my heart’s imagination, the rose is my solarised midsummer and midday plant. More widely, this plant family, both naturally and imaginally, has been vividly important to me over the years.
R. J. Stewart was inspired by Scottish Border ballads, especially Thomas the Rhymer and Tam Lin. I like what he says about working with traditional sources. “One of the most damaging attacks that can be made upon a tradition is to ‘restore’ it, or to ‘prove’ an original model … restoration implies the withdrawal of the vivifying spirit into another world, leaving only a shadow behind … such a restoration can only be made within ourselves, by bringing our imaginations alive with the traditional symbols” and developing them in the way our inspiration prompts. Here and now, I can begin to let go of May 2023, and allow the peak of the light time to come in. The rose family is still there, as companion and teacher.
(1) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2020/09/20/autumn-equinox-2020-hazel-salmon-awen/ (A note at the end of the post explains the whole mandala)
(2) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2020/08/12/meditation-wisdoms-house (Explains the contemplative context of my tree mandala work)
(3) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2021/04/23/remembering-the-glastonbury-thorn/
(4) R. J. Stewart The Underworld Initiation: A Journey Towards Psychic Transformation Wellingborough: The Aquarian Press, 1985
Contemplative Inquiry 
The May blossom here (west coast Scotland) is only just in its prime now – I’ve mentioned before how our year mandalas based on nature will reflect the local situation and universal mandalas don’t always feel right so like you I do tend towards very personal representations on mandalas. The Rose for me is hugely important as a representation of ‘the Mother’ as archetype. I also connect with Hawthorn for various reasons and agree with you about the fruit being the ‘pain’ element – I’m a retired midwife and I see this as a representation of birth perhaps. Apple blossom also has a personal connection for me through my own mother and it’s only on reading your post that I’ve noticed the thread here of the Rose family… doh! Many thanks for that. I have a Dog Rose tattoo that bears 4 generations of names of my mother line – Rhiannon is a namesake of mine too and I very much see her as a May Queen.
Thanks for this. I like the Dog Rose tattoo honouring your mother’s line. A real commitment. I have the Dancing Seahorses from the Aberlemno stone, done in the 1990’s to mark a change in my view of the world.
Our bodies tell the story of our lives; they physically present and change according to genetics and lifestyle etc. I love the idea of us adding to these stories ‘literally’ by inscribing on them too. All my tattoos have been acquired to celebrate something – they mark a time or theme that is important to me as they mark my body. There’s a few more I’d like to add…
It’s a lovely approach to tattooing. I thought of mine as a one-off, though I made a small addition a decade after the first venture. I’m not expecting anything more, but who knows …
A rich humus of ‘contemplation’ , feeding the roots here James !
The Rose and Crossing lay lines of place and time .
Standing in the day’s light through the Rose Window of the Minster ,decades pass and standing in the New Day’s beams through that rose window a transformation has taken place ,and so fortunate to be here .
Currently in our garden the rosebuds are closed tightly ,in puberty and virginal , not wishing to rush time ! anticipating the glory to come .
Becoming
Thanks for this resonant comment Andy, and for its poetry.