E is for Eggs - Pagan Blog Project - Week 10
In
celebration of Ostara, but mostly because I’m out of ideas, I've chosen “eggs”
for my topic for this week’s PBP post. For obvious reasons, the egg is symbolic
of fertility and new life. With all the budding plants and baby animals, it’s
no wonder that eggs are a popular focus during the spring months. This post contains
a general overview of egg symbolism through different cultures and religions,
fun facts, a story or two, and some spells.
Ostara,
being the spring equinox, is the perfect time to celebrate the fertility and
growth symbolized in the egg. Eostre, a purposed Germanic goddess, is said to
be the namesake of the festival. She makes her first documented appearance in
Bede’s 8th century work title De
Temporum Ratione, in which he states that festivals were held in her honor,
later “replaced by the Christian ‘Paschal month’”. His claim has been much
debated; many scholars believe he simply made her up[1].
In Jacob Grimm’s Teutonic Mythology, he
plays with the entomology of her name and connects Eostre with the east and the
rising sun. Beyond that, there isn't much information on the gal. Most of the
sites I've come across have nothing to back up their claims. These sites tend
to claim that she had a bird companion turned hare who continued to lay eggs.
She has been called a fertility goddess and is heavily linked with eggs and
their rebirth symbolism. Whether she existed or not, the imagery fits the
season, in my humble opinion.
Many of
the Hindu religious texts state that the universe and everything within it was
formed from and contained inside a golden egg.
We find
the cosmic egg creation story in the Chinese Pangu legend. It begins with the
typical “formless chaos” which eventually turns into the cosmic egg. The egg
contained a perfect balance of Yin and Yang principles and from that sprang
Pangu, the creator god[2].
One
version of Egyptian mythology places the Ibis-headed Thoth as a creator god and
states that he laid an egg in which Ra was born.[3]
One
source, which was re-blogged several times, states that eggs “were part of the
Bacchic or Dinoysian mysteries, possibly a chthonic symbol; they could be used to
cast spells and, conversely, to offer protection.[4]”
Another source states “that in the rites of Liber, Roman god of fertility and
wine (who was also called Bacchus and identified with Dionysus), eggs were
honored, worshiped and called the symbol of the universe, the beginning of
all things.”[5]
The
Cahuilla Indian creation story states that their creator gods, Mukat and
Tamaioit, were born from two large eggs from their mother, Darkness[6].
Clay
eggs, perhaps symbolic of immortality, have been found in burial spots in
Sweden and Russia. Depictions of eggs have been found on Roman sarcophagi along
with clay or stone eggs used as funerary offerings. It is suggested that the
eggs may have represented rebirth or renewal for the departed[7].
The first
chapter of the Kalevala[8],
the national epic of Finland, suggests that the world was formed from the egg
shells of a duck, which had nested on the knee of Ilmatar, an air goddess or
spirit.
Quick the maiden moves her shoulders,
Shakes her members in succession,
Shakes the nest from its foundation,
And the eggs fall into ocean,
Dash in pieces on the bottom
Of the deep and boundless waters.
In the sand they do not perish,
Not the pieces in the ocean;
But transformed, in wondrous beauty
All the fragments come together
Forming pieces two in number,
One the upper, one the lower,
Equal to the one, the other.
From one half the egg, the lower,
Grows the nether vault of Terra:
From the upper half remaining,
Grows the upper vault of Heaven;
From the white part come the moonbeams,
From the yellow part the sunshine,
From the motley part the starlight,
From the dark part grows the cloudage;
Shakes her members in succession,
Shakes the nest from its foundation,
And the eggs fall into ocean,
Dash in pieces on the bottom
Of the deep and boundless waters.
In the sand they do not perish,
Not the pieces in the ocean;
But transformed, in wondrous beauty
All the fragments come together
Forming pieces two in number,
One the upper, one the lower,
Equal to the one, the other.
From one half the egg, the lower,
Grows the nether vault of Terra:
From the upper half remaining,
Grows the upper vault of Heaven;
From the white part come the moonbeams,
From the yellow part the sunshine,
From the motley part the starlight,
From the dark part grows the cloudage;
 |
| Ilmatar |
The Chinese hold what is called a
Red Egg and Ginger Party[9]
to celebrate the birth of child. The celebration usually takes place after the
child has reached one month in age. It originated due to the high mortality
rate in infants. They believed that if the child survived the first month, there
was a good chance the baby would be alright. Guests attending the party usually
bring gifts for the baby, money for boys, jewelry for the girls. The red dyed
eggs are gifted to the guests and are symbolic of “happiness and the renewal of
life.”
In
the Ukraine, Easter eggs are called pysanka and are decorated with wax resist[10]. The designs are not
painted, but written on with beeswax. There are several different methods and
many traditional designs and motifs used to make a pysanka. It is impossible to
tell when the practice began, but the symbolic importance of the egg dates back
to a pre-Christian Slavic sun god named Dazhboh. Apparently, Dazhboh had a
thing for birds. Though humans were unable to catch the birds, they did manage
to scavenge the eggs which were considered sacred and a “source of life”.
Symbolic of the rebirth of the land after a difficult winter, they were honored
during spring festivals.
Nowruz,
the Iranian/Persian New Year, also features brightly painted eggs which are symbolic
of fertility. A festival table is set on the night of the celebration with a
dyed egg for each member of the family[11].
There
is a Jewish feast, called Passover Seder, in which eggs play an important role.
The Seder is a ritualistic “retelling of the story of the liberation of the
Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt.”[12]
During the feast, celebrants partake in symbolic foods from the Passover Seder
Plate. One of these items is a hard-boiled egg called a Beitzah, which
represents a festival sacrifice. According to Wikipedia, “eggs are the first
thing served to mourners after a funeral”.[13]
They were roasted and offered as part of the Seder meal in the Temple of
Jerusalem. The eggs now symbolize the mourning of the Temple’s destruction and the
“inability to offer any kind of sacrifices in honor of the Pesach holiday.”
From
there, we move to Easter, which Christian’s typically celebrate as the day in which
Christ rose from the grave. It is said that the Easter egg (an empty shell) is
symbolic of the empty tomb Christ left behind after his resurrection. The eggs
were originally dyed red to represent the bloody death he suffered[14].
I’m glad I lacked that information as a child. Our celebrations were fairly
void of religious practices and leaned more toward the consumerist nature; just
another excuse to give gifts to the kiddies. Our own eggs were dyed every color
of the rainbow and often decorated with crayon and stickers. Why? Because the
decorating process was just as fun as the hunt!
Wikipedia suggests that Lent may be
another reason eggs are so popular around Easter. Eggs lain during the Lent
fast might have been boiled for storage. If this were true, participants would
have amassed about six weeks’ worth of eggs by the time Easter Sunday rolled
around[15].
Why are eggs sold by the dozen? It’s
been suggested that the “dozen” concept is a holdover from earlier times. I
read on several pages that staples in Europe were all sold by the dozen. I’ve
also stumbled upon a suggestion that it may have something to do with the fact
that there are approximately twelve moon cycles in a year. However, I was
unable to find anything credible to back it up either of these claims.
Some
people believe that finding a double-yolked egg is either a sign that someone
in the family will have twins, or an omen of good luck. When I was a kid, my
parents decided to try their hand at raising ducks. One of our ladies always
laid double-yolked eggs. My brother and I made a game out of hunting for them. I
loved to crack them open for breakfast and find the extra yolk inside.
An egg
with no yolk is considered to be bad luck. This is a rare occurrence, but
sometimes occurs in young hens.
While
the time honored tradition of tossing rice or seeds at newlyweds persists in
many countries, some traditions call for an egg to be smashed under the foot of
the bride for fertility and abundance.
In the
Hobbit, Bilbo asks Gollum a riddle about eggs. “A box without hinges, key or lid,
yet golden treasure inside is hid.”
-----
The Egg
By:
Andy Weir
You were on your way
home when you died.
It was a car
accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left
behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their
best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were
better off, trust me.
And that’s when you
met me.
“What… what
happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said,
matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck
and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel
bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around.
There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is
this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I
said.
“Are you god?” You
asked.
“Yup,” I replied.
“I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,”
you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all
right?”
“That’s what I like
to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family.
That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with
fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or
possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school
teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I
said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way.
They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the
outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling
apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So
what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said.
“You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So
the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are
right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as
we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in
particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point,
then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A
baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said.
“You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives.
You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and
took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and
gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny
fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to
see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and
when you bring it back out, you've gained all the experiences it had.
“ You've been in a
human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest
of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start
remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have
I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and
lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a
Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You
stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess
technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are
different where I come from.”
“Where you come
from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I
explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me.
I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn't understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a
little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I
could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all
the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know
it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point
of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little
stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a
reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the
eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to
mature.”
“You mean mankind?
You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made
this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become
a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about
everyone else?”
“There is no one
else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at
me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different
incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting
it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human
being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever
live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham
Lincoln?”
“And you’re John
Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You
said, appalled.
“And you’re the
millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone
who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you
victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of
kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever
experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you."
You thought for a
long time.
“Why?” You asked me.
“Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you
will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re
my child.”
“Whoa,” you said,
incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re
a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you've lived every human life throughout
all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole
universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered.
“Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on
your way.
-----
Egg
Spells
This spell is used to make an “astral
decoy” of yourself in times when you may feel that you are being attacked and
need time to figure out how to handle the situation.
Materials: plain white egg, pencil
or marker.
Take the egg and decorate it with
words and symbols that are specifically meant to symbolize you. Hold the egg
between your hands to raise the temperature to your own. Raise and channel your
energy into the egg. Put the egg as close to the area in which you believe the
attack is coming from (under your bed if you’re having nightmares etc). Then
ask the egg to make a lot of noise “to attract anything predatory that is
looking at you.” Do not break the egg when you are finished. Instead, leave it
at a crossroads, bury it off property, or even burn it.
I
personally wouldn't do this one. ;p
Materials: Rotten egg
Write the name of the person you are
sending away nine times son the egg. Be sure to add where and how far you want
this person to go. At midnight, throw the egg against his/her door.
Another spell from the same site
suggests that you toss an egg over the top of their house while yelling, “you
son of a bitch, go!” That one made me giggle.
I've used an egg in healing spells,
but it can always be used in the same manner to remove any sort of negative
energy. Just take an egg and rolls it over your body, visualizing the egg
sucking up the energy or illness. Dispose of the egg by throwing it into a
moving body of water or burying it off site.
[4]
Killgrove, Kristina. “From Birth to Burial: the Curious Case of Easter Eggs.” Powered by Osteons, 20 March 2012. Web.
8 March 2013.
[5] Simoons,
Federick J. Eat Not This Flesh: FoodAvoidances from Prehistory to the Present. London: The University of
Wisconsin Press, 1994.
[6]
Hooper, Lucile. The Cahuilla Indians. Kessinger,
2005.
[7] Simoons,
Federick J. Eat Not This Flesh: FoodAvoidances from Prehistory to the Present. London: The University of
Wisconsin Press, 1994.
[8]
Crawford, John M. “Rune I. Birth of Wainamoinen.” Internet Sacred Text Archive. Web. 8 March 2013.
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