As we enter Late Summer, crossing the threshold into the hottest and driest part of the year here in the Northern Hemisphere, we move into the time of year that is traditionally known as harvest time. At this point in the year, we are invited to gather to us that which we have carefully planted and tended in previous months and to sit in the abundance it has grown and now provides us with. Yet perhaps most importantly, we are called to honor the land for all it has given, since what we are harvesting has inevitably been grown with the ever-present aid of Mother Earth and the soil itself, and if not directly by her, certainly with her help in providing the fertile ground upon which our lives unfold.

Lughnasadh is a Celtic holiday that recognizes this harvest time within the cycle of life, oft celebrated with festivals that bring people together to share arts and crafts, story-telling and myth, and to dance and be merry at the end of summer in exaltation of the lighter and warmer half of the year. Lugh, a Celtic deity who represents rightful kingship and aligned sovereignty with the land, began this festival millennia ago in honor of his foster mother, Tailtiu, who exhausted herself in clearing the land to make it possible for the birth of agriculture that would keep humans alive and allow them to thrive. Thus, this time of year also asks us to bask in the gratitude of all we have chosen to call to life within ourselves and our own lives, thanking the earth, the stars, the plants, the sun, and truly the grace that is woven into and through all these facets of beingness. The bounty that we enjoy now is a representation of the hard work we have poured into the projects and plans we have populated our lives with, as well as the process of co-creation we have undergone with this infinite force of life that inspires us and keeps us bright, if we so choose it.

Yet this is also a time of year that can leave us feeling fatigued, whether it be from the heat that feels unrelenting, the lack of rain that leaves the land parched, the cumulative energy output that seems to show up in a particular way in our bodies right now, or a combination thereof. Rather than continue to work as hard as we may have been in previous months, we’re invited to pause and reflect (Mercury goes retrograde from August 4th-27th in early Virgo back to late Leo, giving us the perfect opportunity for this!) on how our lives are or aren’t a reflection of our values and priorities, where we are in alignment with the bigger rhythms of life, and where we may not be, as well as to enjoy the fruits of our labors. This last one is absolutely what Leo Season is all about, and Leo is not about to go out without a song and dance — or a few of them — first.

Leo Season — along with the Leo New Moon on Sunday, August 4th — wants us to play, to express ourselves creatively, to sing, to dance, and to celebrate. It asks that we put our egos aside (in Leo’s healthy expression) in order to be silly, to laugh, and to do what truly brings us joy. Yet Leo is also archetypically represented by the king and the queen, reminding us that we must claim a sovereign role within ourselves, regardless of whether or not we have any representation of the lion in our birth charts, for we are meant to be the sovereign beings within our own lives, and only we can exercise authority within them in ways that are healthy and attuned to life’s bigger flow. Yet how do we claim this sovereignty when we have inevitably brought in with us certain patterns and stories that take up space within our minds and hearts, when we have responsibilities to tend to and people to show up for, when we have full lives that demand our time, energy, and attention, and all in ways that may be at odds with one another, or at least vying for us to give ourselves to them, and some more than others? How do we rightfully claim and uphold the role of the sovereign when it comes to all that life asks of us?

I love that the yoga tradition, amongst many others, offers a perspective on this that I tend to always return to at this time of year, interestingly enough. ‘Artha,’ ‘Kama,’ ‘Dharma,’ and ‘Moksha,’ known as the 4 Purusharthas, translated as “pillars” or “aims,” “objectives,” or “wealths” of life, can offer us such a beautiful lens through which we might look to answer this question. ‘Artha’ refers to necessary resources in life, the things we need in order to have stability and security, material prosperity and wealth. It includes what we do in the world to call forth these qualities in our lives so that we can have what we need to live abundantly. ‘Kama’ refers to “worldly delight” and pleasure, including all the Leonine things that bring bliss to our hearts, smiles to our faces, full-body laughter to our beings. Here, we know how to play in ways that call forth our innate nature of joy, and those that allow us to touch the face of the divine in ecstatic expressions of aliveness. ‘Dharma,’ or in this case, ‘svadharma,’ (‘sva-’ means “one’s own”) refers to our sense of mission and purpose in life and how we uphold the bigger movement of reality through our committed duties, acts, and responsibilities in the world. It inspires us to a sense of rightful action in the world, knowing that what we are contributing to the whole can and does make a difference. ‘Moksha’ refers to spiritual liberation, freedom, and awakening, and also to any practice through which we can remember our innate natures that are inherently, already free. Here, we see through the veil of limited, mundane reality, remembering and/or recognizing that at the core of all of life is Awareness itself, the unbounded, limitless, and ultimately liberated nature that is fundamental to reality.

The Celtic framework is similar, with its own version of these pillars or aspects of the wheel represented, as is the Chinese Taoist framework, known as the Wu Xing cycle, whose phases offer another similar but unique perspective of the yogic one. I’ll spare us from a term paper that compares and contrasts these, yet I do find them important to mention because they indicate what so many traditions often do: when we align ourselves as intentionally as possible with a bigger rhythm in life, recognizing and honoring the varied branches or phases, pillars, or times within the greater flow, we become supported to be the sovereigns in our own lives, claiming rightful ownership over where and how we’re placing our time, energy, and attention so that we embody the most clear versions of ourselves possible. And, interestingly enough, the translation of “sovereign” in Sanskrit is “svatantrya,” referring to the fact that we are already ultimately free, unbounded, and liberated, but only if we claim this innate aspect of ourselves. Yet we forget, as we’re meant to. But this is only so that we can remember again, continually honing and refining our capacity to uphold an ever-dynamic “balance” that asks us to go with time, letting the divine rhythm of life move us along in the ways we so choose, dancing delightedly, stumbling occasionally, celebrating full-heartedly, falling flat on our faces from time to time, so we can eventually do what we’re here to do: to claim our innate nature of sovereignty with the land, with reality, with life, and with the divine energy that is and always has been our birthright. It is here, in this time and place, that we don the crown once again, not over anyone at all, but in a divine agreement that remembers who we are and what we’re capable of, and holds us to all of that and more.

During this Lughnasadh, Leo New Moon, and Late Summer, I invite you to rest and reflect; to take stock on what’s working in your life and what may not be, only so you can refine it when we move into Virgoan times; to bask in the abundance of what you have done and what has and is working for you; to have at least a little fun, dancing, singing, and celebrating in the ways that feel best to your heart of hearts; and of course, to do what is necessary to reclaim the inner sovereign who has been waiting for the scepter, empowering yourself to be the bright, aligned being you came here to be. And may you roar a Leonine roar, if that’s what it takes!