Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Hello gentle listeners and welcome back to Whispers of the Past, the podcast where myths,
(00:08):
legends and folklore come alive. This week I invite you to embark on a special journey
with me, mythical New Year revelries. Together we're going to explore how ancient cultures
marked the passage of time and celebrated the arrival of new beginnings. But today's
episode is a little different from our usual deep dive into one cultural mythos. Instead,
(00:32):
we'll span multiple traditions, weaving through tales of gods, spirits and rituals that resonate
with the themes of renewal and hope. Transition from one year to the next has long been a symbolic
moment, rich with cultural meaning. Across civilizations, people have marked this turning
(00:53):
point with rituals of renewal, reflection and hope. From invoking deities of fate and time,
to lighting sacred fires or making offerings, humanity's need to seek protection and blessings
at the year's dawn is timeless. These stories remind us that the concept of new beginnings is
(01:13):
far older than modern resolutions. It is embedded in ancient myths, where gods control the flow of
time, spirits guard the changing seasons and mythical heroes set out on quests symbolising
rebirth. This episode will journey through some of the most fascinating legends tied to New Year's
(01:33):
celebrations. To start this episode off, I thought I'd tell you a story from Greek mythology,
and to end the episode I have a story from Norse mythology for you. A story of new beginnings,
Persephone's return. Long ago, in the heart of the ancient Greek world, the earth fell into the
(01:54):
grip of a relentless winter. This was no ordinary seasonal chill, it was a profound and unnatural
cold, born of divine sorrow and rage. Crops withered under a sunless sky, rivers froze despite
God's blessings, and a chilling silence spread over the land, as if life itself were holding
(02:14):
its breath. Because of this devastation, they am a grief of the goddess Demeter, the divine
guardian of agriculture and fertility. Her daughter Persephone had been abducted by Hades,
the lord of the underworld, casting a shadow over Demeter's heart and her duties. Demeter's anguish
(02:35):
was boundless. Consumed by her search for Persephone, she wandered the earth in despair,
neglecting her sacred role to nurture the land. Fields once lush with golden grain turned barren,
and orchards heavy with fruit, rudexalate. Without Demeter's care, the cycle of life and
harvest halted, plunging the world into famine and despair. Humanity, struggling to survive,
(03:02):
cried out to the gods for deliverance. Moved by the plight of mortals, and fearing the collapse
of the world's balance, Zeus, king of the gods, intervened. He commanded Hades to release Persephone
and restore balance. Yet, the situation was complicated by a binding rule of the underworld.
(03:24):
Anyone who consumed its food was tied to it. Persephone had eaten six pomegranate seeds during
her time below, sealing her fate to spend half a year with Hades. In the underworld, Persephone's
time was not spent merely as a captive. She rose to power as its queen, commanding respect from
spirits and gods alike. Her dual existence symbolized balance, life flourishing above,
(03:49):
while she ruled below. As Persephone emerged each spring, the earth blossomed anew. Flowers burst
into bloom, trees unfurled their leaves, and the air filled with birdsong. Her return symbolized
life's eternal cycle, death yielding to rebirth. Every bud, every sprout was a reminder of her
(04:11):
journey from darkness to light. Meanwhile, her descent each autumn marked the world's retreat
into winter's cold embrace. The Greeks understood this as the rhythm of life, prosperity and hardship,
joy and sorrow, each part of an unending circle. Thus, the ancient Greeks saw each new year as a
(04:33):
continuation of this sacred cycle. Persephone's story reminds us that, even in the deepest darkness,
renewal is inevitable. A fitting tale for the threshold between the old and the new.
Now, let's begin with the Roman god Janus, after whom the month of January is named.
(04:54):
Janus is depicted with two faces, one looking to the past, and the other gazing toward the future.
In ancient Rome, people offered sacrifices to Janus at the year's turning point, praying for
guidance in the new year. His temples had doors symbolically open to welcome change,
and closed to protect against past troubles. Imagine standing in that doorway,
(05:18):
balancing between yesterday and tomorrow. Janus was also associated with beginnings
and transitions, overseeing marriages, births and even seasonal changes. His dual gaze symbolised
the inevitability of progress, while acknowledging the lessons of the past. Romans believed honouring
(05:40):
Janus would ensure prosperity and protection from misfortune. During the festival of the
Callans, which marked the Roman new year, citizens exchanged gifts such as dates, pigs and honey, symbols of a sweet future.
Friends greeted each other with good wishes, reflecting the enduring cultural emphasis on renewal.
(06:03):
Ceremonial processions and offerings were common at Janus' temples. His priests,
called flamens, conducted intricate rites believed to secure a favourable new year.
Ritual purification and symbolic opening ceremonies reinforced Janus' protective
role as a gatekeeper of time. Janus' legacy endures even today in our calendar and cultural
(06:31):
expressions. We still look back at the past year, while making resolutions for the future,
unknowingly invoking the ancient spirit of this two-faced guardian.
The symbolism of Janus extends beyond personal resolutions. His presence speaks to society's
broader transitions, political changes, the founding of new cities and even times of war
(06:57):
and peace. Ancient Roman leaders sought his blessings before embarking on military campaigns,
believing his favour would ensure victory and safe returns.
Janus' story reminds us that life's journey is never linear. The past shapes the future,
and the threshold between them is a place of potential. As the new year dawns, perhaps we,
(07:21):
too, can invoke his spirit by embracing both the wisdom of experience and the promise of what's
yet to come. Meanwhile, across the seas in Japan, the New Year's celebration of Sugatsu
centres on the first sunrise, symbolising hope and renewal. According to legend, the Shinto sun
(07:44):
goddess Amoratsu emerged from her cave, bringing light back to the world after a time of darkness.
Even today, many people climb mountains or gather at the coast to witness the first sunrise of the
year, offering prayers for prosperity and happiness. The tale of Amoratsu is central
(08:05):
to Japanese creation myths. After a bitter quarrel with her brother Susano, the storm god,
Amoratsu hid in a celestial cave, plunging the world into darkness. Without her light,
crops failed and despair gripped the earth. The gods, desperate to restore balance,
devised a clever plan. They gathered near the entrance of the cave and held a wild celebration.
(08:31):
The goddess Amei no Uzume, known for her boldness, performed a lively and scandalous dance that
caused the other gods to erupt into laughter. Curious about the noise, Amoratsu peeked out
from the cave's entrance. At that moment, Tachikaru, a deity of immense strength,
seized her and pulled her from the cave. A great mirror placed outside reflected her radiance,
(08:57):
and she was reminded of her true beauty and power. Realizing the world's desperate need for her light,
she agreed to return to the heavens. This myth resonates during Hatsuenode,
the ritual of observing the first sunrise. Many make pilgrimage to sacred mountains like Mount
Fuji or coastlines to greet the New Year's first light. Prayers are often offered at Shinto shrines,
(09:23):
seeking health, happiness and prosperity. Traditional customs include decorating homes
with kadomatsu, arrangements of pine, bamboo and plum branches representing longevity,
resilience and renewal. Shimanawa ropes, adorned with sacred paper strips, are hung to ward off
(09:46):
evil spirits. The act of witnessing the sunrise isn't merely symbolic, it's a deeply spiritual
moment connecting humanity to divine forces. Each year begins with a ritual of light,
echoing Amoratsu's return and promising a future of new possibilities.
(10:07):
The ancient Celts marked their New Year during Samhain, though echoes of these customs lingered
into later New Year celebrations. They believed the veil between worlds was thin, making it a
time when spirits roamed freely. To ensure good fortune, people lit fires, made offerings and
invoked protective deities like Brigid, goddess of hearth and home, for blessings of warmth and abundance.
(10:33):
Samhain was a liminal time, balancing life and death, past and future. Villagers would extinguish
half-fires and relight them from a communal flame that was blessed by druids, symbolising renewal
and unity. Offerings of food were left outside homes to appease wandering spirits, ensuring peace
and good fortune. People also wore disguises to confuse malevolent beings, an ancient precursor
(10:59):
to modern Halloween traditions. Brigid, associated with poetry, Smithcraft and healing, was invoked
to bring creative inspiration and protection during the dark winter months. A sacred flame,
maintained by priestesses at Kildare, symbolised perpetual renewal. Seasonal feasts celebrated the
(11:21):
earth's cycles. Wassiling, a tradition involving blessing orchids and livestock, ensured agricultural
abundance. These communal rituals fostered both spiritual protection and social solidarity.
As the year turned, these practices were a reminder of the constant interplay between life's fragility
and resilience. The extinguishing and rekindling of fires reflected the hope that, even in the
(11:47):
coldest, darkest times, light and warmth would return. For the Celts, Samhain's rituals embodied
the essence of the New Year. A time to honour the past, embrace transformation and step forward with
renewed spirit into the future. In Norse mythology, the turning of the year was linked to the Norns,
(12:10):
mysterious beings who wove the threads of fate. They lived at the base of Ydrassil, the world tree,
and controlled destiny itself. As the old year ended, ancient Norse people would make vows,
much like modern resolutions, in hope of influencing their fates in the coming year.
The three Norns, Erd, past, the Dandi, present, and Skuld, future, continuously spun the fabric
(12:38):
of destiny. Even gods like Odin respected their power, knowing fate was ultimately inescapable.
Seasonal celebrations, such as Yule, were infused with themes of time and fate. The Wild Hunt,
a spectral procession led by Odin, was believed to sweep across the winter skies, gathering lost
(13:00):
souls. Witnessing it was an omen of transformation, or even death. Ancient Norse communities
practiced some bell, ritual toasting ceremonies where vows were sworn and past deeds recounted.
Each person's words carried the weight of fate, emphasising accountability and
(13:20):
destiny's mysterious weave. The enduring power of fate was also depicted through runes,
mystical symbols believed to unlock destiny secrets. Casting runes during Yule divinations
helped foresee the coming year's fortunes, offering hope, or warning. These traditions
(13:41):
illustrate how deeply the Norse people revered the forces shaping their lives. The Norse
people revered the forces shaping their lives. By acknowledging the Norns' control, they embraced
both their agency in making choices, and the humility of surrendering to destiny. Yule,
therefore, became a time of both reflection and bold intention, a duality that resonates even in
(14:07):
modern New Year traditions. Norse mythology also reminds us of the silical nature of time.
Just as the seasons turn and the years pass, so too do the stories of gods and mortals repeat
themselves in ever-evolving patterns. The Norse believed that by honouring these cycles,
they could find meaning and guidance in the ever-turning wheel of life.
(14:34):
Now, it's time for a tale of renewal.
In the frostbitten lands of ancient Norse myths, the story of Aion's abduction by the Jotunn,
Jazi, stands as a cautionary tale of renewal and the preservation of youth.
One day, Loki and Hörnir were travelling through the wilderness when they grew hungry.
(14:56):
They came across an ox and began to cook it. But no matter how long they waited, the meat would not
cook. Suddenly, Jazi, in the form of a great eagle, appeared and revealed that he had bewitched the
fire. The giant demanded a portion of their meal in exchange for releasing the spell.
Begrudgingly, they agreed. But when Jazi greedily took more than his share, Loki struck him with his
(15:23):
staff in anger. Enraged, Jazi seized Loki and carried him high into the sky. He was
the only one who could do this. The trickster god found himself at the mercy of the powerful giant.
To secure his release, Loki swore an oath to deliver Aion and her golden apples to
(15:43):
Jazi's hall. These apples were no ordinary fruit. They were the source of the god's youth and vitality,
and without them, the Aesir would wither and age. True to his cunning nature, Loki devised a plan
to lure Aion from Asgard. He tricked her into leaving the safety of her garden by claiming he
(16:04):
had found even more extraordinary apples beyond the walls of the city. As soon as she stepped outside,
Jazi swooped down in eagle form, snatching Aion and carrying her to his fortress in Jotunheim.
The absence of Aion and her apples quickly took its toll on the gods.
There once radiant forms grew frail and their strength waned. Realising the gravity of his
(16:28):
betrayal, Loki faced the wrath of the Aesir. To redeem himself, he promised to rescue Aion
and bring her back to Asgard. To do this, Loki borrowed Freya's magic cloak, which allowed him
to transform into a falcon. He then soared across the realms to Jazi's icy stronghold.
There, he found Aion imprisoned, but golden apples locked away. Using his wits and mastery
(16:54):
of shapeshifting, Loki turned her into a small nut and carried her in his talons as he flew back
towards Asgard. Jazi soon discovered Aion was missing and suspected Loki was to blame.
He transformed into an eagle and flew into the skies. Soon, he was able to return to Asgard.
(17:15):
Soon, he spied Loki and the two raced across the skies, their shadows streaking across the
snow-covered mountains below. As Loki neared Asgard, the gods lit a massive bonfire at the gates.
The flames were enchanted, and Loki flew right through them,
but Jazi, unable to stop his momentum, was engulfed by the fire and perished.
(17:39):
With Aion safely returned, the golden apples once again restored the gods' youth and vigour.
Spring returned to the world, and the Aesir celebrated their renewal with feasting and revelry.
Loki, though forgiven, was reminded that his trickery often brought as much trouble
as a dead resolution. This tale of Aion's abduction and rescue encapsulates the themes of loss.
(18:06):
Renewal and the delicate balance of life. For the Norse, it served as a reminder that,
even in the darkest times, the promise of restoration was always within reach.
From the watchful eyes of Janus, to the illuminating rays of Amoratsu,
myths of renewal remind us that endings and beginnings are eternal,
(18:29):
woven into the stories humanity has told for millennia.
As we step into a new year, may we carry the wisdom of these legends in our hearts.
Thank you for joining us on this mythic journey. If you enjoyed today's episode,
please subscribe, leave a review, or you can send it to whispersofthepastreviews.gmail.com.
(18:50):
If you also have something you'd like to hear about in the future, you can send it there.
And share whispers of the past with your friends and family.
It really helps. Until next time, may your path be guided by the stories of old. Happy New Year.