So today it is Canada Day, where back home everyone is celebrating their happiness in a country that is working towards a better future for all, under the leadership of a sincere and honest politician. (Yes, they do exist). Yesterday in my little village here on the edge of England, looking out over the North Sea towards Europe, someone had written racist slogans on the traffic signs and one For Sale sign. I stand on the shingle beach and weep for what has happened to this country.
And yet, Brighid, Brigantia, the goddess that is this land by whatever name, does she care? The wheat is still growing in the fields, the deer still bounding across the heath, the magpies chittering in the garden. The troubles of humanity, I wonder: do they affect her as well? When we finally manage to wipe ourselves off the planet, she will go on, regardless…
I return to my garden, and sit at my altar beneath the beech tree, the dryad spirit singing softly to me, reminding me to listen. And so I listen, to the wind through the leaves, to the blackbird singing, the chickens squawking down the road. I listen to the hum of the earth, the heartbeat of my lady. I release my fear, my anguish through my tears even as the rain falls, washing my face with its song. And I return to this place, to the songs all around me that are not the songs of humanity. I remember that I am part of a much bigger web.
My lady grabs me by the hand and whooshes me across this country, riding the dragon lines of her energy. I am at Avebury, where a ritual for peace is being held. I am at a lonely stone circle in Dartmoor, the heavy slate skies and thunder booming overhead. I am at the edge of Loch Lomond in Scotland, with the fey crowding all around me. I am at the edge of the Atlantic on the coast of Ireland, the waves crashing against the rocks.
I am then taken deep below the ground, through the sand and silt, through layers of rock. I am in the deepest darkness, where the hum and heartbeat of this little planet hurtling through space is strongest. And then suddenly I am thrown out into the sky, riding the winds and lost in perfect freedom. I am diving deep into the realm of the sea, where the songs of whales guide me towards peace.
And I am back in my garden, my breath coming hard, my eyes snapping open.
I am more than my species. I am more than my gender. I am more than my nationality. I am more than my politics.
And my lady smiles.