
At the very heart of our Yule each year turns the Great Dance of the Wheel, the dance of the Sun's Rebirth.
Listen while I tell of it.
Wearing holly, the circle of men faces outward. Wearing ivy, enclosing, the circle of women faces in.
The two circles take four steps toward each other, then four steps back.
Then the circles wheel. One moves sunwise, the other, widdershins.
(There's a metaphor to be savored here, but that's for later.)
Again the concentric circles expand and contract. Once again they wheel, reversing direction.
Then repeat.
The song that accompanies the dance tells the seasons of the Sun's life: winter, spring, summer, fall, and back again to winter. In one infinite instant, the Sun is begotten, born, begets, and dies. Like the dance, the song wheels, returning again to its own beginning. In the end, it becomes a round, turning and turning on itself.
In this way, we work our magic.
-
Good question, Ian. I would think that what you wanted to wear and where you wanted to dance would be up to you. Tradition is fixe
-
What would you do if a non-binary person (like myself) wanted to dance?