Weaving A Tug Of War Tradition Of Spring

This is a tale I made to share at my Grove’s Spring Equinox celebration. It’s based on lore from the Baltic peoples of Northeastern Europe.

Now let me tell you a story. This story has truth, but is not true, has wisdom but is not wise. Stories rise up from the earth herself, heard when the spirits whisper in our ears and so we share them. May the gods find my words pleasing, and so may you.

In the time before time, when all things were not settled as they are today, there was a prosperous farm. On this farm there lived a pious family who gave offerings to the gods and walked in balance with the land. They honored all the spirits of the land and their house spirits loved them very much. They had many house spirits, as everyone did in those days. Every thing had its place, and every thing had it’s spirit. There was the spirit of the hearth fire, and the spirit of the ancestors of the household. There was the spirits of the fields and rivers and the spirit of the barn. There were two spirits who were sacred to the gods themselves. The Zaltys, the holy green snake who connected the household to the sacred waters and was beloved of the sun, and the the Aitvaras, the powerful fire bird who connected the household to the holy sky and was beloved of the dark. The family gave offerings to them even when the world was frozen and the sun was distant, when they wondered if the food would last until the green shoots of the blossom lifter would rise again in the spring.

Geometric watercolor painting in blues, purples and greens of abstract moons in balance. — Detail of Beltane Foxes by Rev. Melissa Hill

The youngest daughter particularly loved to give offerings of milk to the Zaltys and the Aitvaras. But one year, winter did not end. It came early and stayed late and the cold froze everything. The ice was too thick to fish, and the plants could not come up through the snow. Everyone, everywhere was hungry and there was not enough food, even when all shared what they had. The girl didn’t have enough food to give as offerings and she was sad and hungry. She closed her eyes tight and spoke to the Zaltys and the Aitvaras in her heart. She asked for their help for the people of the village and her family. She saw a vision of them of them in her minds eye. The green snake became a huge winding river of water and the fire bird became a streaking comet in a starry sky. The two forces fought a mighty battle, and wherever they touched steam billowed and mist rose. They spun together into a circle and the steam flowed outward across the land. Wherever the cloud touched water flowed and lakes formed. For as everyone knows, lakes are just clouds that touched the earth. When she opened her eyes she knew what they had to do to help the earth thaw. They had no food to offer but they could offer their strength. So she went to the village children and told them of her idea. They gathered their parents and siblings, their aunts, uncles and grandparents. Everyone in the village had a party of purification. They built mighty fires and poured water on the frozen things. They dressed in costumes and at the end they had a mighty battle. Now no one wanted to get truly hurt so they decided on a game of tug of war. One side danced toward the rope in a long snaky spiral dance, and hissed and poured water as they came. The other side ran and leapt high, singing all the while. Each pulled as hard as they could, battling as the green snake and the firebird had done. In the end, everyone fell down exhausted and laughing. All that banging and singing, leaping and pouring did its work and slowly slowly the earth mother yawned and woke from her deep sleep feeling clean and refreshed. The cuckoo bird came back from the southlands and the green shoots rose from the ground. The people of the village rejoiced and sang, and every year after that they had a celebration at the end of winter called Užgavėnės where they gave offerings, poured water, lit fires, sang, and played tug of war.

Now we offer milk because we still have enough to share, but we also offer the strength of our bodies and the determination of our minds and the fierceness of our hearts as we compete to honor the battle of the Zaltys and the Aitvaras.

I wrote this story inspired by the traditions of Užgavėnės from Lithuania. This is a celebration of the coming thaw. It begins on Ash Wednesday and in terms of the modern pagan Wheel of the year it falls between Imbolc and Ostara. When I have adapted the practices for my Grove, I have moved the celebration later, and held it at our Ostara high day. The story is inspired by the hard winters we have been having here as well as a combination of a number of folk traditions. It is not authentically ancient, but it is a reflection of an authentic modern practice.

Based on my research into Eastern European folk customs I created a ceremonial tug of war where the forces of fire and water battle in the spring in order to waken the sleeping Earth Mother. I pulled together the tales of the fight of two spirits Lašininis (the pork spirit man) and Kanapinis (the hempen spirit man) which symbolized the fight between winter and spring, a folk tradition in one area of Lithuania of tug of war fights in the spring, customs of pouring water all over everything to aid the thaw, knowledge of the fire and water duality in ancient Indo-European lore, and two spirits known to be connected to fire and water in Baltic legend, the Zaltys and the Aitvaras.

Both are household spirits, the Zaltys is the name for the green grass snake and is connected to Saulė, the goddess of the sun. The snake is also connected to the water, we know this by one of the most popular stories in Lithuania, Eglė žalčių karalienė or Eglė, Queen of the Grass Snakes. I will have to tell you her tale another time.

The Aitvaras, is a different character altogether, a trouble-y trickster of a firebird that has a tendency to steal grain from your neighbors and bring it to you. It’s a good friend to have, and a poor enemy, but they’re hard to find. In most of the folklore they are seen as somewhat demonic, if of a friendly bent.

Taking all those threads, I wove a new thing. Something with the old and the new combined to create a ritual moment where each member of the grove gets to identify with either the powers of fire or of water. This is a moment where we move ourselves into the cycle of time, out of the linear passage of time. We stand in mythic space, struggling physically with each other to wake the slumbering earth.

It’s a powerful moment every time we do it. It starts rather ritualistically with one side shouting “Sacred Snakes wake the Earth! and pulling the rope, then the other side shouting “Firebirds wake the Earth!” and tugging back. The shouting and pulling goes faster and faster until it descends into a true battle of strength and will. The kids love it. The grown ups love it. No matter who wins, everyone who wants to can participate and everyone ends up laughing and panting in the end.

Time is the test of such a weaving. Does it hold up to reality? Does the warp and weft of it stretch to fit different people and different needs? When we create new narratives and traditions the goal is to find meaning and even more importantly, create meaning out of life and myth. I hope you enjoyed the story dear reader. I hope it made you think about your own life and relationship to the coming spring.