I was recently interviewed for Druidic Dawn’s Magazine, Aontacht for their summer solstice edition. You can read the whole thing HERE.
Blessings of the solstice to you all! I hope you have all had a great weekend. x
In the time of greatest light, we cannot hide. We face our demons, head on, letting our nearest star shine its light upon all that we would attempt to hide. And beneath it all, we remember that a body needs forgiveness…
Blessings of the summer solstice to you all. x
My “day job” is working for one of the world’s leading artistic centres and concert halls – I work in the marketing and PR department. I’ve been working there since 2008, and have seen experienced a lot of art in various media. This year as part of the visual arts exhibit that complements the music festival that is currently underway, we have some paintings that I walk past every day. These paintings make me uncomfortable.
The subject of these works is the last meal of various prisoners on death row before their execution in the USA. It is an extremely intimate glimpse into the person behind the prisoner. It shows their humanity, their desires, their need for nourishment and what makes them happy in that context. The fact that it is on public display, however, and for sale, makes me uncomfortable. Why?
On the one hand, if it wasn’t on public display I would never have seen them. On the other hand, I didn’t need to see them in order to have compassion for these human beings. I am completely against capital punishment. The fact that it might make people think about what is happening in so-called First World countries regarding life and death is probably a good thing. And I realise that artists need to eat to, hence the fact that they are for sale. But for every person that doesn’t “get it”, that laughs at the absurd combinations these people have chosen without knowing why: does this trivialise, as well as capitalise the suffering and deaths of human beings? Does it de-sensitise us even further? Or does it raise an awareness of the de-sensitisation that we are experiencing in modern society?
I don’t have any answers. All I know is that every time I walk past them, I feel an ache in my heart and an unease, as well as a wellspring of compassion for all humanity who are in this together.
Working on my new book, The Stillness Within – Finding Inner Peace in a Conflicted World has really given me the opportunity to delve deep into my own soul. This book is taken from writings on this blog and updated, collated and revised into a little book that will hopefully be a guidepost on the roads we travel to a place of peace.
I apologise if my posts here the last few weeks have been a bit scarce – I’m in full-on editing mode, and sorting out the cover this week too. One thing that I am exploring deeply this week, however, which may or may not make it into the edit of this book (time restrictions) is the notion of how much we fight ourselves, as well as each other. Watching some interviews with music artist Tori Amos the other day, she spoke of how we find our own personal power, which can defeat notions of terrorism. This terrorism is not in the conventional sense, however, but a personal terrorism that comes from within that seeks to obliterate rather than negotiate.
She stated that the song The Power of Orange Knickers, that deals with the theme of terrorism, kept drawing her in, deeper and deeper into different meanings of the word. “It’s easy to see the enemy in another country, it’s easy to see the enemy in another culture: find the enemy in your own culture, then find the enemy in your own being… we all have this part of ourselves that would choose to obliterate an idea instead of negotiate, because it takes a lot of skill to negotiate, but it doesn’t take a lot of skill to obliterate.”
Her words struck a chord with me. How often do we not allow for understanding to bring about a resolution to a conflict? In my book, I talk a lot about how compassion is understanding, trying to see the other side, trying to see the bigger picture. But in doing so, we may have to admit that we have a limited viewpoint, and worse still, that our viewpoint may actually be wrong. Our egos get in the way all the time, trying to save face, with bitter, hurtful words, bad or destructive behaviour or any other myriad ways which we employ to ensure that the façade that we are “right” is kept intact. But what happens when that is happening from within, not only doing it to others, but when we are doing that to ourselves?
For the most part, when we have been hurt, we often try to obliterate the person who has hurt us, punishing them in some way to make ourselves feel better. In severe cases of abuse this may not be the case, but in our day to day interactions with others, when someone does something we do not like, when they say something we disagree with, when we allow past events to influence the present moment, perhaps even dredging up old hurts and projecting them onto the current situation, we seek to annihilate the person whom we believe to be the current source of all our pain.
But what if that person is ourselves? What if we do as Tori states, and look to find this person within? We all have aspects of ourselves that are less than glowing, “darker” aspects that we would rather not face. We spend so much time deluding ourselves, our egos constantly chattering inside our heads convincing us that we are right, that they are wrong, that they are the enemy. The enemy is often lying within, silent and deadly, slowly and steadily killing all chances of peace and compassion.
We have to learn to negotiate with that aspect of ourselves, to talk with it, to try to understand it. In understanding this aspect, we find compassion, for ourselves and for others. In seeing the demons in our own soul we can better understand the demons in others. We have to become skilled negotiators, finding the right words that will cut through the pride and the ego, that will get to the heart of the matter in kindness and in love. We can’t just wade into our psyches and try to obliterate that aspect of ourselves; when we do that, we are just perpetuating the suffering in ourselves and in the world. We have to learn the deep art of communication, to open up the pathways of resolution. There are many choices we can make, if only we are able to see them.
Work towards an ending of the war within. Learn the arts of negotiation and communication. Take the time to look deeply, past the walls of the ego and through the memories of the past and the worries of the future. Look to the person you are right now. Find how you can heal her. Stop the cycle of hurt, pain suffering within and you will also stop that cycle without. It’s never too late.
For the full interview in which Tori Amos discusses the different songs on her album, The Beekeeper, please see below.
Working on my materia medica, creating my own herbal as part of my 2 year journey with Herbcraft professional diploma course, associated with the Association of Natural Medicine. Here’s the second herb I chose for my own personal herbal – if you’re interested in the green and growing world, come one down to my other blog at The Druid Herbalist!
NETTLE (Urtica Dioica)
Plant Family: (Hamamelids)
Parts Used:
Leaves, buds, rhizomes and roots.
Collection season: early spring for leaves and buds until they flower, seeds and roots in autumn.
Soil and Environment: Universal throughout British Isles and most of temperate world, found in forests, woods, river banks, under shrubs and bushes, wasteland – pretty much anywhere. Thrives in nitrogen-rich soil.
Propagation:
Wind-pollinated perennial.
Description:
Up to 5ft tall, with long jagged edge to shield-shape leaf that comes to point at tip. Stinging hairs along leaves and square stalks. Small, creamy-green flowers in long strands, seeds not long after flowering.
History:
An Anglo-Saxon sacred herb (wergulu) and used in medieval times as beer to treat rheumatism. Tibetans believe their sage and poet, Milarep (AD 10252-1135) lived on nettle soup until he turned green. Nettle tops were used as a rennet substitute in cheese-making as they turned milk sour. There are around 500 species of nettle.
Chemical constituents:
Chlorophyll, vitamins A, B complex, C, D, E and K, folic acid, minerals, bioflavinoids, seretonin precursor.
Actions and Medicinal Uses:
Reduces fatigue, improves stamina, nourishes kidneys, adrenal glands, nourishes immune, digestive, endocrine and respiratory system, increases metabolism, normalises weight, eases/prevents rheumatism and arthritis, good for skin and hair, eases lung complaints such as asthma. Galactagogue. Eases leg cramps and muscle spasms. Reduces haemorrhoids. Anti-inflammatory, alterative, astringent, haemostatic, circulatory tonic, diurectic.
Combinations:
Can be used to “boost” many other herb actions, especially when dealing with immune system.
Usage:
Tea – 2 tsps steeped (dried) or 3 tsps (fresh) in boiled water for 5 to 10 mins three times a day. Tincture is 1 tsp twice a day.
Contraindications:
None.
Spiritual Aspects:
Protection, self-respect, resiliency and flexibility. Teaches of healthy boundaries while providing deep nourishment. Good meditational tea and also cleansing/purifying bath before ritual.
I spent last weekend in Glastonbury, a beautiful little town where I always go a couple of times each year to refocus and recharge the old batteries on a spiritual pilgrimage. As a Druid, I get inspired by the land around me and my home environment more than anything, but if you want to see outside the box so to speak, there’s nothing better than a pilgrimage to a spot that has great energy and peace.
And so, my friend and I piled into the car and drove down to Somerset, stopping off at Avebury on the way as she had never seen it before. We had lunch at the Lion (a fantastic pumpkin chili burger each) and then walked amongst the stones. After we had completed our first circuit we went and spent some time by the Obelisk, in one of the two inner circles. This is a special spot for me, as it really is a gateway into the past; time moves differently in that circle. Sitting on the ground, placing your hands upon the grass you could feel time shifting and slipping in and out of the present, looking up and seeing what Avebury would have looked like before the houses were built, before the village came. It’s a powerful thing, going in and out of time, but also so wonderful: a reminder that time is not linear, exactly, but an ever ebbing and flowing tide.
After Avebury we headed to Glastonbury, where we had hoped to meet up with some friends and drum up on top of the Tor at sunset. By the time we had settled in and eaten, it had already gone past 9pm and we were just too tired, and had to pass on that little excursion. We went back to the B&B (Pilgrim’s B&B – I highly recommend it) and with a visit from the resident cat we went to sleep, having a big day ahead of us.
The next day we were up early – too early for anything to be open! Shops don’t open until after 10am (some of them opening when they feel like it) and the Goddess Temple was only open from 12 noon. So we wandered around the town, looking in windows and finally visiting them when they opened. There are some really lovely shops there, with good books, items and other pagan goodies (I highly recommend the incense from The Goddess and Green Man – Mists of Avalon and the Golden Sickle are my favourite!). We then went to the Goddess Temple, where we were able to find a little sanctuary from the high street. Clad in the red colours of Beltane still, it was a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Meditation is so easy in that sacred space. I asked one of the temple priests if he could smudge me and he did with some really powerful incense cleansing my spirit with skilful sweeps. Inside the temple there is also a Red Tent, where I always go for a second meditation session and a card reading using the Temple’s own deck of cards they created out of the Nine Morgens of their tradition. I got Freedom, and pondered that for a while in the beauty of the little temple.
We had some lunch and then headed to the White Spring, but it was closed. Sadly, the opening hours state that it is open in the afternoons on the weekends, but it is rather hit or miss as to whether anyone actually comes and opens them. So we then proceeded to Chalice Well, a beautiful space with lush gardens and a light yet at the same time heavy atmosphere of the sacred. So many people from all over the world have been there, and it is amazing to think how many feet have walked these paths, drunk these sacred waters and prayed by the wellhead. I did my usual ritualistic route up to the wellhead at the top of the garden, where a few other people were sitting. As I settled myself, I could see the usual golden glow of healing emanating from the well and flowing out into the gardens. Some young children ran up, and the glow intensified around them. They looked down into the well and then ran off, moving with the swift determination that youngsters do when they must see and be everywhere at once. I smiled, loving their fresh energy and youthful exuberance. Normally I would have been irritated, as I am not particularly maternal, but their energy and that of the well brought a smile of joy to my face. As I sat and basked in that energy I looked around to the others who had gathered around the well head. I realised the deep need for healing that so many had when coming to the Red Spring, whether physical or emotional or both. My heart opened to everyone who had gathered there, wishing them all the healing that they needed, my soul opening in compassion.
After a time I went to sit on the lower slopes of Chalice Hill, where the Chalice Well Gardens overlook the Tor. Meditating there for a bit I was able to send my roots deep into the ground, breathing into them and through them from the deep, dark depths of the soil. My heart was calm, my soul at peace.
We left the gardens and I met an old friend from The Druid Network, who was there with a friend of his. It was so lovely to see him, and even though I had difficulties in the past with his friend, my heart was open to them both – Chalice Well is such a place of healing, I cannot even begin to describe it. We all chatted and laughed, and then we continued onto the Tor while they made their way into the gardens.
As we puffed our way up the steep slope of Glastonbury Tor, the wind whipped our hair and clothes and stung our cheeks. It was windy, even for the Tor, which is always windy. We got to the top, and as always felt the energy whirling around us, pulling us up, down, sideways, inside and out. My friend went and sat on the northern side while I found a little corner out of the wind facing westwards. As I sat I could feel the energy that made this such a special place, a place between the worlds, between the earth and sky with fresh clean water flowing from it into the red and white springs below. It was then that it struck me – freedom. The card that I had drawn from the goddess temple. Freedom was not just physical or creative freedom, but also an emotional freedom. Letting go of hate, letting go of past grudges, we are then free. My spirit soared with the jackdaws that lifted off the grassy slopes of the Tor to ride down into the valley below. The epiphany had struck, not just as an intellectual exercise but as a real life experience, from start to finish in a single day. My heart opened in true compassion on top of the Tor, to everything on this planet, like it never had before and I felt a deep peace settle in my soul that would carry me through my life ahead. I realised that before I had only glimpses of the healing power of compassion, now the light flooded through my being, in perfect freedom.
We went back down to enjoy a nice meal and then relaxed in the B&B. Tomorrow we would finish our shopping and pop into the White Spring on the off chance that it would be open (it wasn’t when we were there). I was saddened that I could not actually visit inside the White Spring, where I had first met my goddess, Brighid, but I could still feel her all around me, as I always do, wherever I am in the world.
Our journey back was quick and painless, and exhausted I climbed into bed next to my husband, my two cats snuggling up as if I had been away for weeks. Going away makes you appreciate all that you have even more, even as it opens up new doors and allows for new experiences. Thank you, Glastonbury, once again, for a beautiful weekend.
Friendship is one of the greatest gifts we can have on this planet. I am blessed, in that I have a loving family and lots of good friends. In the last six to eight years I’ve developed close bonds with my girlfriends, and it is something that I treasure deeply.
Where two souls meet, in open honesty, with no agenda there is a beautiful, wonderful, inspiring interaction of heart meeting heart. In all our gloriousness and with all our faults, we can be who we truly are and in that honesty, are accepted for who we are. My friends are there to help when I need help, to point out where I might be wrong in a situation, to advise when I might be right, and to not judge me either way. I’m filled with gratitude for having friends like these.
For me, there is a special closeness, a special bonding with my girlfriends. Perhaps it is because we understand each other, have many similar shared experiences in our lives. Maybe it’s just our souls connecting with honesty. Whatever it is, it fills me with joy and inspiration. I love being with them, hearing their laughter, sharing their tears, wrapping my arms around them and having them hold me in return. With belly-shaking guffaws, snorts, farts, burps and all, they are my best friends.
Many of my girlfriends have a love of dance – quite a few of them are fellow belly dancers. We find a freedom in movement, a sense of belonging to a tribe who love to dance, who love music, who love to be in each other’s company in that setting and in others. I believe that as a species we were meant to dance, that it opens up our hearts and souls and allows us to speak without words. It allows us freedom from fear, from inhibition, from the walls that we surround ourselves with each and every day.
And so I’m looking forward to getting back to Glastonbury with one of my best friends, who couldn’t be with us last time we all went together. Spending time together laughing and enjoying good food. Spending time together in silence. Spending time together singing along to every Taylor Swift song from every album in the car drive down. Keeping each other awake on the car ride back. Experiencing a shared boundary and having a shared experience – that is what life is all about. So many things are better when they are shared.
To all my girlfriends, I love you with all my heart. You are my sisters, my inspiration, my joy. x
This is a reblog of my latest post from my channel at SageWoman’s blog, on Witches and Pagans.
Friend and fellow colleague, Kevin Emmons, once described the sacred as “A simple thought that isn’t so simple. What we see and experience as sacred is what allows us to glimpse the eternal through cracks in consciousness caught in the field of time.” I love it when people say things that really make you think. You can find links to other inspiring writers on my personal blog at Down the Forest Path.
As a Druid and animist, to me everything is sacred. Everything is sacred, and yet everything is also mundane. As author and Zen teacher Charlotte Joko Beck once said “Nothing is special. And when nothing is special, everything is”. She wrote an entire book, called Nothing Special. I highly recommend it.
Kevin’s words are beautiful, evoking an image of eternity in which we can only catch glimpses. My Zen Buddhist tendencies lead me to question whether anything is eternal, as the main tenet of Buddhism is the impermanence of everything, and yet there is a certain paradox in that the energy of life is never-changing: it only changes in the forms that it takes. Energy manifests itself as different forms of matter dependent on circumstances such as environment, genetics, etc. So yes, the energy is eternal, but the manifestation is not.
Catching glimpses of this energy, of the sacred through cracks in consciousness is an absolutely delicious concept. It reminds me of Emily Dickinson’s poetry, when she speaks of nature as in XCII:
To my quick ear the leaves conferred;
The bushes they were bells;
I could not find a privacy
From Nature’s sentinels.
In cave if I presumed to hide,
The walls began to tell;
Creation seemed a mighty crack
To make me visible.
We cannot escape life. It is always there, always around us, and we are always a part of its flow. There is no separation, only integration. We live with each other; we live because of each other in a beautiful dance throughout the ages. These cracks in our consciousness allow us to break through our perceived reality, and move beyond perceptions, beyond subjectivity into the entirety of being.
Our senses are so beneficial to us, and yet they also are the cause of our subjectivity. We see the world through our own eyes, feel through our own fingers, listen with our own ears. Everyone is different, yet everyone has a shared experience. When the species is the same, there is a deeper shared experience, an understanding and knowing where the Other is not so “other”. Transcendence is moving beyond the senses, moving beyond the boundaries and definitions into pure understanding, pure experience. Then there is no “I” or “Me”, there is no “You” or “Them” – just life, glorious life.
Our consciousness is a blessing, a gift. It is also the greatest hurdle to overcome, for it shouts aloud and above the songs of the earth, drowning out the consciousness of other beings in our own minds. Cracking open our consciousness we allow those other songs to come through, to inspire us, to nourish us, to blend with our song in a wonderful symphony of energy manifesting, over and over again.
These cracks of consciousness are caught in the field of time (however you may view time, whether it be linear, circular, etc.). Energy manifests, for a time, and then changes its form. Time is what creates the impermanence that is so vital to life. Without time, there would be no conception, no materialisation, no death and no decay. Within the moveable boundaries of time we see a progression of the eternal processes of birth and decay. Time is a gentle sanctuary, an indiscriminate boundary that allows these processes to occur.
And so, the sacred is that which allows us to glimpse the eternal. The sacred is anything and everything, if only we open up our senses and move beyond our perceptions. Through the cracks of consciousness within the fields of time we perceive this sacredness, flowing and changing, manifesting and decaying, a boundless stream of energy moving through the cosmos.
May you see through the cracks to glimpse the sacred.
Fellow author, Druid and all around lovely person, Danu Forest has written the first in a series of e-books that detail aspects of each of the eight pagan festivals, otherwise commonly known as The Wheel of the Year.
Her first book, The Magic of the Summer Solstice, is a well written, well-rounded account of folklore and customs that surround this time of the highest light. It is also filled with arts and crafts to do during the summer solstice, as well as recipes, meditation, visualisations and more. There are also lovely, simple illustrations by her talented husband and artist (and excellent drummer – my doumbek came alive in his hands at Druid Camp last year!), Dan Goodfellow.
I loved this little book. I loved it so much I read it twice. I really look forward to reading the others in the series, and to find ways to incorporate some of the ideas into my own personal ritual practice.
For the time being, I’m keeping an eye on the elder tree in my backyard for making cordials, and will be making a lovely sun wheel for our group celebration later this month!
P.S. Just to top it all off, I was also delighted to see that at the end of the e-book was this!
The rain. Beautiful, nourishing, healing. Falling today from light grey skies, it fills the air with water molecules and negative ions. Rain is a wonderful thing. Go out into it, walk, dance, sing and be free.
There will be less people about. You will have more time to yourself. Feel the sensation of rain upon your face. If it’s warm enough, feel it all over your body. Smell the way the earth reacts to it. Open yourself like the earth opens to the rain. Run your hands through rain-wet grass, stroking it with a lover’s caress.
Take your shoes off. Feel the water and the earth. Stand tall like a tree, arms outstretched to the sky, allowing the rain to fall on you where it will. Rain does not discriminate. Take inspiration from the rain. Send healing and love indiscriminately, nourish the world like the rain.
We are water. We are clouds. We are rain.
(For the science behind the healing power of rain, click HERE.)