Solstice - The Goddess Awakens

Lola stood speechless as Aibgrene emerged into the open living room of the cottage. She was shrouded in the most exquisite pale cream wedding dress. Like a vision, the lace dress, which was embroidered with an intricate Celtic Knot, dripped off her porcelain shoulders into a V shape, as the intricate stitching travelled down onto the bodice. It was impossible to tell where the golden knot started and where it ended. It was eternal, perfect for a wedding, thought Lola. The dress hugged Aibgrene’s waist and hips cascading like a waterfall at the bottom. Her mum had done a fantastic job. The long bell sleeves added that romantic touch, as did Aibgrene’s honey-coloured hair, which fell down her back in thick ringlets. Aibgrene stood looking in the mirror. She was so like her mother in many ways and she was quite unsure how she had managed to get through these last few months without her. Today was going to be the most difficult, but she had Lola and Daithi.

‘Well, what do you think, Lo?’ Lola lifted the garland of pink foxgloves, blue forget-me-nots and wild roses that lay on the table and gently placed it on her head.

‘Perfect. Absolutely perfect,’ beamed Lola, taking a step back to admire the view.

Her aura didn’t glow. It pulsed. Lola drank in the beautiful wisp of apple green that she’d come to associate with her friend. Today, it was smattered with bright yellow and pink. It reminded Lola of a tie-dyed t-shirt she’d tried to make once. It was magnificent. But there, just on the edge of her aura, she could see a tiny fleck of light grey. Lola understood today would be a bitter sweet one for Aibgrene. The most important person in her life would be missing. Celeste wouldn’t be there to hold her hand, to cry when she was married, to do all the things mothers did on the day of their daughter’s wedding. Lola was in awe of Aibgrene’s strength. At times it made her feel so ashamed.

‘You’re amazing, Miss Moone. Celeste would be so proud of you today,’ enthused Lola, feeling the tears well up in her eyes, she tried to compose herself. ‘Cad ata taobh istigh, Leirionn ar an taobh amuigh. What lies within, reflects without.’ The words were out before Lola had even time to think about where they had come from. That had been happening a lot lately. But she seemed to be the only one taken aback by her new found understanding of the gaeilge language. A wide grin spread across Aibgrene’s face as she clapped her hands in approval.

‘You really are growing, Lola. You still have so much to discover about yourself.’ Not long ago Lola would have rejected the notion, but after her little waltz with the Lia Fail, she accepted that Aibgrene was right.

‘I really don’t know where all this is coming from. I mean I never studied Irish at school or anything. Arthur taught me a bit, but the stuff I’ve been coming out with… It’s like someone else is speaking through me.’ Lola didn’t like the way Aibgrene was looking at her so she tried to change the subject. ‘Anyway, enough about my craziness, this is your big day and you look otherworldly like a modern-day Ophelia. You’re radiance is undeniable. Daithi is going to be blown away.’

‘I hope I do a bit better than poor Ophelia did, driven to death by love and madness, found in a river of rushes and flowers,’ laughed Aibgrene.

‘I meant more like the picture than the character, you know? Serene. Beautiful.’

‘I know what you mean, Lo, I’m just messing,’ said Aibgrene serious now. ‘It means so much to me that you’re here, Lola. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Thank you for everything.’

Aibgrene pulled Lola over into a warm hug.

‘I wish my mum was here today, but I know she will be in spirit.’

As always, Lola seemed to think it was her fault that Celeste Moone wasn’t there, but it wasn’t until that moment, standing there looking at Celeste’s daughter on her wedding day, that she realised that Aibgrene had been right. She had carried that guilt, a burden from which she had been trying to escape.

‘It’s my fault, and I’ll make it right,’ said Lola unable to look at Aibgrene. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Lola. Lola. Look at me!’ pleaded Aibgrene, as she reached out and lifted Lola’s chin. ‘Look at me. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again, do you hear me?’ Her tone was firm, almost angry. ‘It’s not your fault. My mother is a very experienced witch, she knew what she was doing and she did it for a reason. It was not your fault. Okay?’

‘If I’d only been more insistent …’

‘It happened the way it was meant to happen. Now that’s it, Lola,’ insisted Aibgrene. ‘No more. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, let’s lift the mood. It’s not every day that I get to bind myself to my “Anam Cara”.’ Lola had never heard this expression before, but of course she understood the words perfectly. There was no doubt in her mind that Daithi and Aibgrene were soul friends. They were truly made for each other. Stepping out into the glorious sunshine, she followed as Aibgrene joined the procession of brides, all dressed in flowing dresses, holding small bouquets of posies and singing as they made their way to the hill top. It was quite a spectacle. The large marquee sat in what was once the Royal Enclosure, of Cormac MacAirt. Behind it sat the Lia Fail.

As she passed the large granite stone, the small signet ring began to stir and a sense of panic rose in Lola’s stomach. The sound of a bell peeling out around the site helped her focus, and she fell back in line with the rest of the guests, following the trail of rose petals towards the makeshift altar that had been erected under a large hawthorn tree.

The hawthorn was in full bloom, its white flowers acting as natural confetti, sprinkling the altar whenever the gentle breeze blew. The tree itself seemed to be awash with colour and it wasn’t until Lola came a bit closer that she realised that every branch had something hanging from it. There were ribbons of every shape and size tied to it and tiny crystals and pieces of paper wedged into it. It was truly magical and one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. The altar was adorned with pink and white roses and other wildflowers. Two large white candles sat on either side of the makeshift altar and Lola could smell perfumed incense which gave off a sweet apple scent – it was delicious.

Lola came to halt beside Sean and the other guests, as all six couples were called forward by the Priestess. Lola had met the Priestess the day before, while helping with the preparations. She had raven black hair, which was cut into a neat short bob. Her robe was made of pink silk and she wore a head piece like the one Celeste had worn, with a full moon in the centre and two crescent moons at each side. Her male counterpart was dressed in blue, and Lola had noticed him the previous day also.

He had caught her attention because he reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t figure out who. He was quite tall, with grey hair and a long peppered beard. This was so far removed from any wedding ceremony Lola had ever been to. What stood out for Lola was the perfect balance between male and female. This parity appealed to Lola and all her sensibilities. To her that was the way it was intended. After all, man and woman were created by the divine, thus they were equal in their divinity.

Having been brought up in the Catholic faith, there was much about its dogma that didn’t sit well with her. The main factor had always been that women were never treated as equals. They were put on pedestals for other women to live up to, but that always struck Lola as unfair and unrealistic, because to her, life was for living and experiencing, learning and growing. Many women and men could not live up to the archaic expectations that constitutional Catholicism imposed and she believed that this inevitably damaged their relationship with their God.

To her it was much the same for all organised religions, and she believed God and religion were two completely different things. Thinking about it, Lola realised she’d always been drawn to the female aspects of the church – Mother Mary, Saint Brigid and Saint Therese. The celebration of the sacred feminine had been choked and killed by men over millennia, not just in the Christian faith, but also in Judaism and Islam. Lola truly believed that it was the denial of the female aspects of our nature that created a major imbalance in the world, yet here was a belief system, as old as time itself, still flourishing in an Ireland that had been torn asunder by dogma.

Stepping forward the high priestess was first to address the gathering.

‘As with our ancient Kings and Queens, we are gathered here today at Tara on this most joyous festival, Lughnasadh, where we celebrate the bounties of the Earth Goddess and we offer a blessing to the east, south, west and north before we begin this hand-fasting ritual.’