When we come together to bless the earth, our ancestors bless us with protection. In the overdeveloped west, we are starving for tradition. Oh, how I longed as a child to run barefoot round the fire, to collectively drink from the chalice and to frolic with goats.

This was our first Bealtaine. We arrived without research or expectation, a curious heart, pulsing to open further. How do we relate when we paradoxically enter a new but familiar world? How do we navigate simultaneously the emotion of relieve and heartbreak? Surprised by the shyness and sadness for the distance between us and tradition, we remained around the periphery, which offered a panoramic perspective of the inner circle. I remember first discovering about the rainbow gatherings. How does one get there? The thing is, you can’t plan for it, these circles come to you. While of course, you take with each loving choice a step towards your brothers and sisters.

Flower crowns adorn all heads, two fires are tended, song fills the air, a hole in the earth is being dug by the women. Prayers of deep longing for the masculine and feminine to hold each other in their highest grace fall from their benevolent mouths into the soil.

The pace of this gathering is unhurried, everyone fills their place with presence, the table effortlessly overflows with colorful dishes from families kitchens. Suddenly we form a circle around the hollowed door of ground. Bare feet, dirty fingernails and braided hair. “May seeds sprout in abundance, may milk flow lavishly from our breasts, may we grow food, plentiful and merciful, may maidens care for mothers, may the animals whisper their wisdom, may divine union bless this earth”. We greet the four directions and the fifth. Each direction is connected to an element. East is air. South is Fire. West is water. Earth is North. Sky is Ether. My body stands in veneration and absorption, my soul is gulping this experience. The men take off to the right and lift their pole, the women proceed closer to their sacred hole. To receive the pole of fertility, the women first bless the depths. Placenta, umbilical cord, breastmilk, menstrual blood, spit, tears and herbs enter through, prayer, poetry, gratitude and forgiveness. We invite the baby spirits who want to incarnate into this realm, the sisters who long to be part of the circle, the land, her animals and ancestors, and spectacular lovemaking for the seasons to come. We can feel the animated breath of men approaching, there they come, carrying the king on his smooth and bare pillar. Laughter streams from all directions. We meet each other as if for the first time, the earth seems to stretch itself in excitement of her reception. A foamy paste is rubbed onto the glans by the queen. Within minutes and our midst, the tree stands tall.