"The moon was created for the counting of days." - Hebrew midrash
Last month, I began writing a series of diaries touching on esbats, or Pagan moon rituals. Specifically, I wanted to go through my coven's particular lunar calendar - drawn from a combination of historical and modern lunar calendars, and our own interpretations and gut instincts.
Of course, calendars vary wildly, depending on the source. Even the list I'm using now is only my coven's list for the current year - next year, we may come to different conclusions about what should be where. The beauty of a lunar calendar is its connection to the lives of the people using it. Different cultures, different tribes devised different associations, based on their own experience. A coastal people, for example, may connect the moon with particular events in the ocean - whale migrations, etc - that impacted their lives, while an inland tribe would connect the moon to different markers, ones that had importance to them. Seasonal events in Florida are different from ones in, say, Michigan - and there's no wrong in lunar calendars reflecting that.
April brought what my coven calls either the Egg Moon or Seed Moon. The month of May now brings us to the Hare Moon.
Read on . . .
We usually name a moon by connecting it with some landmark of the current seasons. In the case of the hare, however, that connection is already ancient and widespread. You and I may see a Man in the Moon, but cultures around the world saw the dark spots on the moon’s face as a hare (can you see it?). And the moon’s universal associations - regeneration, fertility, elusiveness and magic - naturally connected it with the hare in folklore.
Egyptians called the hare Um, "the opener", and meant it in the sense of beginning – both of the lunar cycle and the cycle of life itself. Hindus and Aztecs told eerily similar tales in which a god, disguised as a hungry wanderer (Indra or Sakra for the Hindus, Quetzalcoatl for the Aztecs) encountered a hare who offered his own flesh as food – a sacrifice for which the god elevated the creature to be the Hare in the Moon. Similar stories pop up in cultures around the world, particularly in the East.
The Chinese saw the Hare in the Moon as the companion and messenger of the moon goddess Chang’e, creating the elixir of immortality for her with his mortar and pestle. In African folklore, the hare is the messenger of the moon, and in North America, Cree legend tells of a rabbit who rides the moon, taken there by a helpful crane.
The mysterious Three Hares design – found from Buddhist caves in China to English cathedrals to the famous wooden synagogues of Poland – is associated with the lunar cycle, among other things.
But beyond these lunar ties, we think of hares (and their cousin, the rabbit) mainly as symbols of fecundity. The Egyptians sacrificed Osiris in the form of a hare each year to ensure the flooding of the Nile - and therefore, the return of life to the land. Romans gave them as gifts to women trying to conceive. The Chinese thought they could become pregnant just from the touch of moonlight, and white rabbits are common fertility symbols at moon festivals in China to this day. Europeans, likewise, thought both hares and rabbits could become pregnant as virgins.
The Germanic goddess Holda (a goddess of childbirth, said to have a sacred pool through which the souls of newborns entered the world) was escorted by hares. The Norse goddess Freya, associated with love, sensuality and childbirth, was also attended by hares, among other animals. As symbols of love and fertility, hares were linked with both Cupid and Aphrodite.
Consequently, the Hare Moon is a time to be fertile - figuratively, if nothing else. Summer is here, and the work done in Spring has begun to pay off - but isn't done. Whatever your goals are, whatever plans you've made, now is the time to redouble your efforts. Don't slack, don't procrastinate. Produce.
Unlike its cousin the rabbit, the hare is precocial – they're born relatively mature, fully furred with open eyes, and can fend for themselves quickly. Combined with its speed and natural alertness, the hare is a symbol of being ready for anything. Keep your eyes open, know where you are going, what obstacles and dangers you have to navigate, and hit the ground running.
The hare also has a reputation for being clever, mischievous and sometimes comedic. In Japan, he is second only to the fox as a trickster. Hindu and Tibetan folklore has the hare routinely outwitting fellow creatures.
In African tales, the hare is a crafty, but sometimes clownish, scoundrel, and many Native American tribes saw hares and rabbits as tricksters - though in some cases they had a grander status (the Anishinaabeg Mishaabooz and the Ute Tavwots, for example). African and Native stories merged in the American South, giving rise to the American tales of Br’er Rabbit, while Cajuns told similar stories of Compere Lapin.
We can take from this, as well - be clever. Innovative. Outwit your opponents, surmount your obstacles. Keep your wits about you, and you will overcome.
The beginning of summer is life in its prime - a time of activity and bounty. The hare - clever, quick and alert - runs and dodges through that abundant world, slyly outmaneuvering everything that wants to stop him. With wits, energy and creativity, we can follow that example and move closer our own goals.
As far as ritual specifics - I don't have a lot. This esbat is more about ideas. Talk about them, meditate on them - though you can dance a bunny hop too, if you want. Always good to have fun at ritual.
The main thing is this: when you look up at the full moon and see that hare across her face, remember the lessons of the hare, and hold onto them.
Blessed Be.