Slavic Moon Lore
In celebration of the release of the 2024 Lunica Planner, I thought I would dive into some of the Slavic lore surrounding the moon. It is after all one of the most important elements within the Slavic worldview aside from the gods.
Perhaps the best place to start is with the lunica (also called lunula or lunitsa) itself. This symbol was represented by the upside down crescent moon. Jewelry of this symbol was found in 4th and 5th century settlements made out of iron. What I find interesting about the lunica is that while the moon resides in the sky, its horns point toward the earth, suggesting an eternal bond between soil and stars. Indeed, the lunica symbolized not just the moon but fertility and prosperity.
As we’ve discussed in Slavic mythology, the sun is typically seen as feminine while the moon is masculine. This flips the script on most lunar mythologies in Indo-European folklore. However, we do see this same gender association in Baltic mythology as well, which is not surprising since Slavic and Baltic cultures are closely tied. Both peoples migrated from The Great Steppe in Asia. Eventually the Balts travelled north while the Slavs made their way west to the marshy forestlands. But their beliefs in the moon still ties them together.
The Slavs often referred to the moon as grandfather or uncle. In Bulgaria, elders taught young children to call the moon Dedo Bozhe, or “uncle god”. This shows how important to the family unity the moon was. Its personification shows that it was as important to Slavic culture as the ancestors or any other member of the community.
This may seem strange to picture the moon as masculine, since we are so used to referring to it as feminine in the Western world, but there is something magical about this switching of roles. I can easily picture the sun in all of her fierce shining glory while the moon dwells mysteriously in her shadow, his gentle light pulling and pushing the tides of earth.
It should also be noted that while the moon itself was considered masculine, the deity that is linked with the moon is actually a goddess. Dziewanna (also called Zevana or Zievonya) is the goddess of the moon, wildlands, the forest, and the hunt. You may notice the similarities here with the Roman goddess Diana or the Greek goddess Artemis.
The interpretations of the name Dziewanna range from “maiden” to “virgin” and is interestingly also the name of the mullein plant in the Polish language. Though we can see the importance of this lunar goddess within the main historical source we have in regards to Dziewanna:
And since the Lechitic state happened to be founded in an area containing vast forests and groves that the ancient people believed to be inhabited by Diana and that Diana claimed power over them, Cerera, on the other hand, was considered the mother and goddess of the harvests the country needed, [therefore] these two goddesses: Diana in their language called Dziewanna and Cerera called Marzanna enjoyed a special cult and devotion.
— Jan Długosz, Annals or Chronicles of the Famous Kingdom of Poland, 1455.
As mentioned, the Slavs were originally forest people, and so this culmination of the forest spirit in one deity must have been powerful to these people. It is interesting to think too how the forest and the moon tied together in these beliefs. Both mysterious, and as we will see, potentially dangerous.
As with most land-based people, the Slavs believed in the duality of all things. There was nothing that was solely benevolent or solely malevolent and the same went for the moon.
Eclipses for example were seen as dangerous times. It was seen as an omen of illness, death or bad crops. It is said that folks would cover the wells so that the eclipse didn’t poison the water. They believed this because it was thought that there were evil spirits in the sky devouring the moon, thus causing the eclipse. Men would discharge their weapons at the moon on eclipse days in the hopes of staving off the evil. Wailing and weeping was observed as well, a shared suffering between people and moon.
The full moon was also a time of fear particularly in regards to children. Folks believed that exposure to full moonlight could blind a child, cause sleepwalking, impaired speech, or insomnia. People would offset this by covering windows or setting a glass of water on a windowsill to cleanse the energy and reflect it back. One babcia said that “the moon becomes busy with looking at itself rather than entering the eyes and causing insomnia”.
The fear surrounding the full moon and eclipse may be why traditional Slavic farmers do not plant on these days in fear of a failed crop.
However, the moon was not bad in any sense of the word. There was also a widespread tradition of welcoming the new moon and wishing it the best on its journey. Some greetings said “welcome, Prince in a new crown, the crown to you and good fortune to us” or “New moon, bring health so me, so my head and teeth won’t hurt”. Dances specific to the moon were also performed in its honor.
These days we talk only about celebrating the moon in all its phases, but we fail to remember that this is only part of the story. The moon is far more complex in its relationship with our land-based ancestors. Just like the forest or any wild space we can revel in its beauty, but also have a healthy dose of respect for its primal nature. There are times to celebrate and times to retreat and rest.
Just like anything in the wild, the moon could bring great gifts or great sorrows. Our Slavic ancestors understood this push and pull of life and its forces. Perhaps take some time to examine your own relationship with the moon. Some days feel full of energy and possibility while others feel a little haywire or chaotic. Could it be the moon? Could observing these old traditions give us a better understanding of how and why our lives are shaped the way they are?
References
“Slavic Religion.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., www.britannica.com/topic/Slavic-religion/Folk-conceptions. Accessed 17 Sept. 2023.