Season’s Greetings
Of course, you can live whichever way you please, yet none of your friends, no one wielding power or running the media will ever let you forget about the coming New Year and Christmas. Step into any shopping center, and you will immediately see the Christmas tree, decorations, garlands, and all the rest; the merchandise varying in price, meant for well-to-do and low-income customers. Now you try to remember when you have done this kind of shopping, buying goods not marked “Attention! New Year Action Project” or seen a single commercial without New Year discounts?
Interestingly, the media onslaught appears to gain scope with each passing year, every time proving effective, making people think, pondering time and again what Christmas gifts to buy for their near and dear ones, whose New Year invitations to accept and how to make the instant the clock strikes midnight unforgettable.
Have you ever considered what it is that keeps your attention undividedly focused on the New Year and Christmas festivities? And this while having scores of other pressing problems to cope with, when your mood is anything but festive? There is an answer that you might not like (as we say, while there are thousands of names denoting triumph, failure always goes unnamed). The thing is that, after passing all the twelve circles of — suppose we describe this as evolution of the spirit, flesh, and scores of other things — we sometimes find ourselves living precisely the way our ancestors did, abiding by myths and rituals. New Year and Christmas celebrations are two vivid examples. You doubt this? You think you have long since outgrown the rigid and stifling mythology standards? It is not as simple as it meets the eye. One can look civilized to all appearances yet remain deep inside the child of nature, albeit not markedly obedient and affectionate. This grownup child remains true to all those subconsciously ingrained instincts, archetypes, complexes, so that every fact, object or event occurring in reality moves past that distorting mirror of one’s consciousness, being exposed to a thorough processing to occupy its niche in either link of the associative chain — be it while riding in a crowded streetcar, telling the lady pressed next something like honey, would you please pass on my ticket to be punched, and hearing in response something like so I am your honey, meaning I am so sweet as to make you nauseous, is that right, look at the guy, he’s just said I’m making him sick! Now this scene is no longer a fact or an event, it is an image reflecting the actual reality in which we live. It is one of a set of black-and- white and Technicolor images, attractive as well as disgusting, regarded as one’s own or someone else’s products. There is nothing in common between such images, born of one’s imagining, and realities. Why were all those myths and rituals created and by whom? We do not know how to exist in a state of chaos, when one is threatened with sinking into a complete irrevocable darkness; it is then that one needs someone capable of inventing and producing light — but mainly to do so to make everybody believe in it.
If you are scared by something you don’t know anything about, you must try to learn about it, as much as you can. How? Very simply, by saying that you know all there is to know about it, also by describing and identifying it. Our forefathers trusted the power of the word, placing it above everything else; they wielded a true weapon, finding definitions for everything they saw, inventing ever new names for the world to know, thus trying to put the Chaos into some semblance of order, filling the gaps of their ignorance. Myth has never been anyone’s invention. It could be described as deceit serving as the only truth — or error — conceivable at a given period, in which case error should be regarded as precisely that truth which could pass muster in the last instance (and truth is always where creed prevails). Rituals? They come down to a set of procedures established once and for all, in the right place and at the right time. They are like a general-purpose set of textbooks composed ever so long ago by our sage ancestors, meant to help us live through all perils, surviving situations we would have been otherwise unable to cope with. Here the golden rule could be formulated as something like do whatever you can to make things good and ask no questions.
The New Year and Christmas festivities are none other than a global disaster, because man is inherently loath to accept gradual progress. Once something new appears, old things tend to disappear; they always die and sink into oblivion. The Old Year must die so we can celebrate the New Year. Granted: time is an inalienable component of this world, and so they understood that gap in time (the death of the year) as the death of the world; in other words, the world was supposed to die with a given year ending, to be followed by the new one. The annual collapse of the world, with a new Cosmos emerging from the chaotic nothingness, the birth of God to bestow salvation upon one and all — this is precisely the basis of any New Year ritual. Why do we set up and decorate Christmas trees in our homes toward the end of each year? Why do we present each other with gifts on the New Year’s night (all such presents allegedly being sent by Grandfather Frost)? Why are we so eager to hear the clock strike twelve, to uncork champagne, fill our glasses, and toast each other?
“There are no bounds
To the mystery of Christmas:
People wish each other well,
So they live in a peaceful world,
So their homes be blessed by the Lord...”
Learn your people and yourself in them, reads one of Hryhory Skovoroda’s tenets. How did our Slavic forefathers see the New Year and Christmas? We know about Santa Claus riding a sled driven by a racing pack of reindeers; about the Chinese dragons stealing the Sun from the sky; about the Italian tradition of throwing old things out of the window; about the Chinese getting all a year older on the New Year date...
How do our myths explain all this?
Do you know that the Slavic Sun-worshippers celebrated three births during the winter cycle: the Birth of the World (when Svaroh, the God of the gods created the world), the Birth of the Sun (aka Koliada), and the Birth of the Moon (actually marking the coming of the New Year)? Or that the Christmas Eve Supper had been revered since the Trypillia culture? Our forefathers saw the New Year as the sacred birth of the Moon, the Eye of Goddess Lada, Child of the Great Mother of the Cosmos. The birth of the Infant, on the first day of January, was associated with the celebration of the Twelve Cosmic Nights of the Creation of the Universe. The Moon shining over the Earth in its full glory was believed to awaken the seeds of life below, rendering them fruitful, working the miracle of dew saving crops in time of drought. Moonlight was believed to breathe life into the oceans and seas, into every plant and animal on earth. In fact, our current notion of the New Year tallies best with the old Slavic Koliada, marking the Birth of the God of the Sun. Our ancestors believed that the Sun was the greatest creation of Goddess Lada and God Svaroh, an invaluable gift bestowed upon all living things. Dazhboh was considered God of the Sun and his guardian deities were at different times identified as Yarylo, Semiyarylo, and Koliada. The Sun’s mission was to keep the Earth lit, warm, and fertile, so that the Koliada magic was meant to help crop yields. During the Koliada festivities, people would visit each other, knocking on doors and wishing those opening them everything the very best, saying their life would be as good as the Moon shining above, that the wife of the master of the house was as beautiful as the Sun, and their children as bright as the stars. Here was also the magic of the word; our forefathers did believe it, convinced that their wishes, sincerely made, would eventually come true.
The ritual of decorating the Christmas tree is also rooted deep in history. The tree is the prototype of the Tree and Axis of the World.
Worlds circling worlds,
Closing the ellipses,
With shimmering imaginary lines
Traced by He that ruled all this to be...
The Axis of the World supports the Heavens, linking them to the Earth. The tradition of decorating the Christmas tree was brought [to Russia] by Peter I returning from his European travels in 1699. Few know, however, that long before that the Old Slavs kept pine twigs in their homes from one New Year to the next, believing them to be mascots protecting them from evil forces, keeping their homes in peace and accord, for pine was revered as a tree blessed by the Lord that had made it evergreen, its branches merrily rustling in all seasons. The fir tree symbolized grief and eternity, so it was used in Slavic funeral and wake rituals (one is reminded of fir wreaths traditionally present during present-day funerals). The star habitually topping the Christmas tree was associated with the Kremlin symbol under the Soviets (a clever propaganda maneuver, to be sure, putting an age-old symbol to good Soviet use). Our ancestors believed that the God of Gods opened the skies with all the shining stars for the mortals to see and admire on the night of the New Year, where the bright Moon would be free to converse with Koliada and the stars; and every star would indicate a soul fresh born on the Earth. Colorful balls among the Christmas tree decorations symbolize apples and tangerines originally embellishing the Tree of the World. And, of course, garlands and other sparkling decorations, all of them being ancient Slavic symbols of water and fire. Fire, the most precious gift of the Sun, considered by our Slavic forefathers as ever living and ever pure, embodied by candles and eventually by tiny bulbs, was meant to remind us of the holiday’s sacral nature, that our home is witness to the divine birth of the New Year. Our ancestors worshipped water as much as they did fire, believing that water could deliver mortals from ills, cleanse them of their sins, and raise them from the dead. And so, when creating the world, they could not do without the aid of the Goddess of Water, the Virgin Dana. In olden times, girls decorated their heads and braids with ribbons reaching down their shoulders and chest, symbolizing Heavenly Water. At present, this symbol is found in all those fine silver foil Christmas tree decorations covering it from top to bottom. Interestingly, the Aryans had once regarded it as the blood and guts of the animals they sacrificed to celebrate the coming of the New Year. In contrast, it is hard to find any semblance of monstrous mythical creatures with ugly heads and big horns in the ancient Ukrainian folk heritage.
Any ritual becomes a mass phenomenon, and the ones we are talking about are no exception. Also, our New Year festivities appear to have a dual nature. Here the New Year is marked as a family as well as a nationwide official festive occasion. These are but two sides of the same coin: family celebration regarded as a very special occasion, rejoicing in the beginning of something entirely new, and public festivities turning into an orgy, dancing on the Old Year’s grave. In fact, the Ukrainian Koliada marks the winter solstice, time for the living to pay homage to their departed near and dear ones, as evidenced by the old trick- or-treat and costume-and-mask- wearing rituals. Ukrainians are known to have long fancied dressing up as beasts, zombies, witches, or whatever, but only to protect themselves against all such evil spirits in the New Year (believing that succumbing to temptation is the best way to resist it). Dressing up and trick or treat the people living next door has presently become the younger generation’s prerogative, like most other old [Ukrainian] rites. This is generally done on the first morning of the New Year. These days, old demonic costumes are mostly replaced by the modern Snowflake, Snow Queen, Flower Princess, Br’er Rabbit, and Clown versions — yet the symbolic meaning is still there. Because the World of Death is dominated by permafrost, never- melting snow. Girls dressing up as Snowflakes most likely have no idea about the age-old mythological roots; snow had been regarded by the Old Slavs as a symbol of mourning. And white was the color signifying chastity and beauty. So we have a kind of juxtaposition of death, cold, water, and chaste femininity. The Br’er Rabbit image originates from the Old Slavic concept of peaceful wolves symbolizing man’s libido. The kinds of costumes we see at grade school parties echo our ancestors’ belief that the past somehow penetrates the present, so that all time-limits simply vanish in the end.
Grandfather Frost: Our snow family is far more diversified than foreign ones. Grandmother Winter with her husband, Grandfather Frost, and their son, the Man of Snow, who eventually weds the Maiden Blizzard, begetting the Daughter Snowstorm and the Howling Wind and Early Frost sons. What about all those New Year presents signed “Courtesy of Grandfather Frost?” The Old Slavs never regarded any of these characters as positive, well-wishing ones. Cold was generally believed to signify death (an old Ukrainian saying has is that it’s best to break out in a cold sweat seven times than find oneself covered in hoarfrost once). In other words, Grandfather Frost should be regarded as a representative of the world of the dead. However, there is nothing in common between the modern concepts of that world and of hell. Our ancestors believed that their dead existed in a prosperous world, and that their gifts came from that world, along with the best of wishes for the next year. Hence the children’s firm belief that Grandfather Frost’s sack is full of presents “enough for all.”
The New Year’s family feast is a festively laid table lasting well into the night, with everyone seated at the table, treated with most delicious dishes. This tradition is explained by the “magic of the first day.” It is generally believed that the how you greet the coming of the New Year will be the way you will spend it. So people do their best to have their New Year table loaded with the best of foods and drink: a royal treat! Still, the origin of this tradition proves somewhat different; gods were believed to visit homes and, seeing festively laid tables, decide to bestow them with further prosperity.
Or take the president’s New Year message to the nation. Gathered in front of our televisions, we never think of this particular ceremony being a distant echo of our forefathers’ ceremony of honoring their chiefs. At that distant time, a chief was regarded as an intermediary between the world of the mortals and all the supranatural realms. And so the president’s talk (about the closing year having been full of complex situations, hazardous challenges, failures, and victories, and that the next year will have an even richer assortment) proves absolutely necessary.
The clock strikes twelve. We raise our glasses, wishing each other everything the very best. Perhaps for just an instant we believe that we are crossing the line between our world and that which exists only in our dreams; that our current enemies will become our friends tomorrow, that our problems will be solved, turning into distant unpleasant memories, that all our dreams will come true.
Happy New Year!
