This last week, along with Unitarian Universalist Church of the Palouse‘s new minister and the Green Sanctuary Committee, I’ve been busy devising a Winter Solstice Celebration. It has been a few years since our church has hosted such a celebration. The last time was an attempted fusion of religious naturalist sensibility with neopagan structure with an injection of local ecological awareness.
This year, the minister is taking the lead with a focus on the darkness and with children participating to “return the light.” The service will be more universalist in approach and should prove to be a new experience for anyone who has attended our past Winter Solstice Ceremonies. If any readers are in the Pullman, WA & Moscow, ID area I encourage you to attend. (More information is available here.)
We still have some logistics to work on, and my part is the acknowledging of the directions. This is a tradition I have adapted and adopted over the years. Unlike many neopagan traditions, the directions are not assigned to any color, season, element, or gender; instead, the focus is on how the directions relate to my life-place (in this case, the Palouse). Most times I improvised these acknowledgements, but I felt a more formal touch was required and have written a variation for the upcoming service:
East
Called by impulse to survive,
the salmon lay eggs in the east
the mountains give birth to
sacred rivers cutting pathways in the earth.
The Palouse stretches into the east
where the sun bursts each morning.North
Called by impulse to survive,
the geese fly from the North.
The north brings us the snow
wrapped within the sacred darkness.
The Palouse stretches into the north
with the cold embrace of transformation.West
Called by impulse to survive,
the salmon swim from the west.
Clouds come from the west,
carrying sacred rain in their bosoms.
The Palouse stretches into the west
where the sun sinks each evening.South
Called by impulse to survive,
The geese flew to the south.
The south awaits patiently
for the return of the sacred brightness.
The Palouse stretches into the south
with the warm embrace of transformation.Humanity
We mourn with the land
as our industry confuses the seasons;
as our neglect threatens the survival of many species;
as our ignorance has blinded us from our deep humanity.
We gather here to touch our deep humanity through celebrating
the land as our flesh and the sky as our breath.
One thing the keen observer might notice is that I start in the east and go counter-clockwise instead of clockwise as some might expect. The reasoning behind this is to follow the path of the earth around the sun and not the perceived path of the sun in the sky. Given our understanding of the Earth’s gravitational pull around the sun, I feel counter-clockwise is more appropriate.
Anyone with knowledge of Pacific Northwest ecology might identify with the imagery I’ve invoked:
- On this side of the Continental Divide, rivers flow east to west.
- Salmon are a vital traditional food staple of local indigenous people and restoring salmon population is an important conservation effort.
- The geese have prominent migration patterns during the changing of the seasons.
- The warm winds often come from the south, and the cold winds often come from the north.
- The semi-arid climate of The Inland Northwest is a product of the Cascade Rainshadow which results in cold air on the west of the range pushing warm air over to the east.
I felt it necessary for the closing to speak directly to the impact of humanity in the environment, but to end with a positive focus of re-cultivating humanity’s sacred place within the ecosystem.
I hope this serves as a practical example of how sacred ecology builds new rituals, ceremonies, and traditions from the landscape and local ecology where one lives. Also, it can be easily applied to already existing traditions. The idea is to ground religious events with local ecological awareness.
I would be delighted to hear others’ comments on:
- How do you integrate local ecological awareness and identity into your ceremonies, rituals, traditions, and celebrations?
- If you where to use the above example as a template what features of your life-place’s unique landscape and ecology would you be compelled to include and why?
- What role does local ecology play in your personal spiritual identity? (Whether it be Wicca, witchcraft, neodruid, Asatru, religious naturalist, Unitarian Universalist, deist, polytheist, neopagan, or any other philosophy or spiritual system.)
For me, the key to 21st century sacred ecology is to combine creative inspiration with practical knowledge of your surroundings. If you feel so moved and inspired, be free to take my words and rewrite them to be specific to your life-place and your relationship with its unique ecology. Or share a unique short sample of poetry, prose, or prayer you have created to express the intimate relationship you have with the land around you.









Jeff and I are both quite serious in our commitment to this lovely blue-green gem of a planet that we happen to live on — which is probably not surprising, considering we’re tree-hugging, dirt-worshipping, long-haired-hippie Druids. We see our embodied existence as human animals weaving our way through this vast, thriving world of flora, fauna, landscapes and ecosystems to be pretty much the best, most sacred thing ever.




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