Tuatha de Bridget celebrated Lughnasadh on the 31st of July, but I did not join them. I regret it now, but at the time I couldn’t face any sort of celebration. Dougal, our cat, went missing on the 10th July. My partner and I have been driving our neighbourhood crazy in our search for him but to no avail.
(Please do not suggest places for me to look, or people to speak to. I have already done it. Twice. Also do not suggest I get another cat. That is hurtful to me and my family.)
So come Lughnasadh, I spent the day scouring the neighbourhood and feeling sorry for myself.
At this point in the week, I feel able to consider Lughnasadh and what it means to me.
Lughnasadh is a harvest festival, a time to reap what you have sown. As someone who is distant from hir food sources, the physical meaning of a harvest is lost on me. But I have managed to reap what I have sown.
I have put a lot of time and energy into establishing my art practice, my shamanist practice and into maintaining friendships. Now I can reap the rewards, especially in terms of friendships. Earlier in the year I culled my dying relationships, and have worked hard to strengthen the buds of friendship in other parts of my life. I can count my blessings, and I feel a real sense of achievement.
But none of that will bring Dougal home, and no amount of forced positivity will make my family whole.
It is a difficult season.