Meditating upon this for a couple of years now, I was absolutely delighted to come across this little question and answer session with Thay back in 2010. His thoughts on ancestors, on no self and awareness were exactly the same as my own, and resonate deeply within my soul.
Whoever I am.
This is a reblog from my post at Druid Heart, at SageWoman’s channel on Witches and Pagans.
Sometimes one has to retreat from the world, in order to better understand it. Finding sanctuary, a sacred space where we can open our souls without fear, where we can simply be, is a glorious experience. It happens a lot less than we need in our lives, in my opinion.
A goddess of sanctuary, Nemetona is an elusive deity. Not much is written or recorded about her in Classical texts or history. Just the barest hints and place names, some tribe names and a couple of inscriptions. Who is this goddess to whom we can bare our souls, in complete soul truth, knowing that we are held?
In our modern day world, so often we feel we have to close ourselves off in order not to be overwhelmed – by people, media, technology. For sensitive souls, it sometimes is pure hell. We need to allow our soul truths to emerge, otherwise as caged birds we function behind bars, never truly spreading our wings and knowing what it means to fly. We feel we have to be careful not to be too open, too emotive, too sensitive to what people are saying or what is happening in the world around us. We are not allowed to be offended, we are not allowed to speak out without fear of being shot down a lot of the time. We are told that we shouldn’t be so sensitive. Our souls grow smaller with each experience of shutting down, never letting anyone or anything in.
That physical space around us, where we feel uncomfortable if someone we do not trust enters, is a valuable space. It is our personal nemeton, a space where our energy exists outside of our bodies. Many liken it to your aura. Some nemetons are strong and radiant, some wounded with gaping holes, others barricaded with steel. What we have to learn, or relearn, is how to open this space in love and trust – that is what Nemetona provides, often in a world wherein we feel no other human is able to provide this for us…
To read the full post, click HERE.
For me, Druidry is not a white-robed affair. Crawling under low scrub pines and getting inside secret places of gorse bushes where only the deer trod, or standing on the seashore in the howling rain, or in the heart of the forest with the badgers and mosquitos – it just doesn’t work.
Druidry is not clean. It’s not an exercise only for the mind. It requires experience to turn what you have learned into real wisdom. It’s not just book-learning. Until you get out there and commune with the landscape, it’s not felt in the soul. It cannot live in the head. It will get you dirty, wet, hot, sweating, cold, scratched, bitten. It is dirty fingernails and peering under bushes. It is a return to the curiosity and wonder of the child, yet it is not child-like. It is deep learning, deep experience.
Druidry is not a male-centred religion or spirituality, nor is it female-centric. It is about equality and egality, anarchic and subject first and foremost to the teachings of nature.
It not just about standing in stone circles waving swords and reading off of sheets of paper with a group of other people, the media and tourists alike taking photographs. It is doing work in the heart of where you live, often without thanks or regard of any kind. It is giving back to the land, honouring the cycles and working for the community – and by community, I mean each and every living thing in that area wherein you live and call home, not just human. It is not about power and ego, but about communion and deep relationship. It is about dropping ideas of the self to better fit in the landscape.
It is not about writing loads of books and offering courses, achieving kudos through output, students and media. It is about the sharing of inspiration, acknowledging the inspiration of others and allowing the awen the flow through you in whatever way you see fit. One may be a teacher, or an author, or someone with whom the media interact – but they are not a spokesperson for all Druidry, nor a guru of any sort, and have no monopoly on wisdom. There is little room in deep Druidry for ego.
There are no titles, save those bestowed either by a person on him or herself, or by a group of people following a shared path and learning. These titles are not relevant to all Druids – just to the person or the group. Claiming to be an arch-druid of so and so has no bearing on those who are outside of the group. There is no central authority in Druidry.
Druidry is not about having things – it is about doing things. It is being utterly mindful of personal and global consumerism. It is about looking at everything that you do, everything that you have, everything that you take and everything that you give back. It is not about doing the bare minimum. It is about sacrifice, of time and ignorance, of ego and of desire. It is about constant re-evaluation of ethics, values and honour. It is about constant learning.
Druidry is not about attaining levels of initiation or ordination within learning, however. Courses and instruction may guide us, may open our minds and shatter pre-conceived notions, expanding awareness – but they are not there to gratify the ego through the bestowing of grade or rank. Druidry is also not about a specific point in time, where to call oneself a Druid means to have studied for twenty-some years, learned the genealogies of kings, etc. The Druidry of the past is not the Druidry of today. The Druidry of a small frame in time within the past and from a small, specific region is most certainly not the Druidry of today. Its wisdom can guide us, but it is just one window in a mansion of many halls. The Classical Druids were the Classical Druids – we are not, nor can ever be, Classical Druids.
Druidry is not just an exploration of the self. It goes beyond the self, to a life lived in service to others.
These are just a few things of what Druidy is not.
So what is Druidry?
It is allowing the wisdom of the oak to guide you in all that you do.
Paganism is all about relationship, and is central to my Druid path. Everything is interconnected – we simply could not exist were it not for the countless forms of other life on this planet. All life, in scientific circles, came from single-celled organisms that evolved into life as we know it; we all, everything on this planet, have a common ancestor.
Yet we are constantly bombarded by the dualistic thinking that has so plagued our species for many, many years. We often feel separated from nature, from the world, from other human beings, from our ancestors. It is often reinforced through marketing, various theologies and psychology, in most cases to ensure that there is repeat business, power and normalisation.
How many of us have come across the “food chain” concept when we were at school? Humans at the top, able to consume and control all beneath us. Whoever came up with this concept has not slept a night out in Canada, where the bears or cougars can get you, or swam in an ocean that has sharks, or paddled a river with crocodiles, or suffered from a debilitating or deadly virus. We are, most definitely, not the top of any chain whatsoever. We all become food for something, in time, whether it is before or after our physical death.
We are, however, all connected, and it is through personal relationships with place that the Pagan creates their worldview, learning from the land upon which they live, the ancestors and the gods. There is no such thing as a “thing” – we cannot look at anything (pardon the pun) in such regards. When we use the term “thing” we can often objectify it, not giving it the inherent right to existence that animism honours. Many native traditions use the term “brother”, “sister”, “grandmother” or “grandfather” when speaking of a life form that is non-human, whether it be non-human animal, the moon, the sea, a tree, the sky. In that way, relationship is acknowledged and inherent respect is created. A community is created, an ecosystem in every sense of the word. We are all descended from a few ancestors. We are all family. We have the stuff of stars in our blood and in our bodies, minerals found in distant galaxies.
As Pagans, we have to remember this in everything that we do. We have to ensure that we are not falling into the traps of dualism, marketing, secular culture. We have to see the beauty and awe in everything, and live a life that is filled with awareness of what lives and what dies, what threads connect us to the world. These threads will then shimmer with profound awen, where soul touches soul and relationship, true relationship, sacred relationship, is created.
These last three months have been quite challenging, and I rarely talk about it, but today I would like to share some views on dealing with physical pain.
I have had rheumatoid arthritis for about twenty years now. Usually it’s just a day or so of aching hands and swollen fingers, but this year it has been different. At the end of May, a “trapped nerve” in my hip rendered me nearly incapable of walking – even sitting was painful. After a month long recovery (and a good osteopath) we managed to work it out, only for me to experience the worst arthritic flare up I have ever experienced. This lasted nearly a month.
Painful hands, fingers so swollen, sharp aching elfshots running down the fingers. Unable to make a fist or hold a coffee cup with one hand. Hands just held on my lap, tingling, tired. Unable to write very well with a pen or pencil. Typing was difficult, but better than writing. Not sleeping due to pain.
When that flare up died down at the beginning of this month, my back then went out. Now, this too isn’t a rare occurrence – I have fallen off too many horses in my lifetime, and it’s always a weak point. But this time was different. This time the pain was so severe my legs were shaking, I felt dizzy and sick. I have a high threshold for pain, and this tested that limit.
The back is now on the mend, and I am able to sit here at my computer and type this. I can only sit for about 15 minutes – but that is better than yesterday, by a whole five minutes. Little steps.
Pain is not just a physical challenge, but a mental one as well. It can so easily lead to depression, our human minds unable to see beyond the day when the pain will ever stop. Luckily for me, right now I know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but for those whom constant pain is their life, and for whom there is no end in sight, I have the utmost sympathy and empathy. I have come to terms with the fact that as I age, this too may be my plight in life.
Pain can be a great teacher though. It can teach us of our limits. It heightens our awareness, if we are not pushing it away. Being in the moment with your pain is the last thing your mind wants to do, but may just be the best thing you can do at that moment.
Pain also teaches us to slow down. This past week I have not been able to sit upright for five days. I’ve learned a whole new way of looking at things – from a horizontal perspective. I’ve learned patience. I’ve learned the resolve needed in order to heal.
My husband set out our inflatable camping bed in the backyard on Sunday, so that I could go outside and lie down (I tried on the grass, but needed cushioning for my hip). I spent all afternoon lying on my side or on my back, underneath the beach tree that shelters my altar, communing with the tree and learning lessons of what it means to stay in one place, to be unable to move. Glorious insights, and the blessings of the world around me filled me with such awe. I always knew trees were great teachers.
The pain is now coming back, into my lower spine, and I will now be signing off, to lie down and let the muscles and spine stretch out again. Learning, listening, patience and endurance. Lessons in pain.
Here is a short excerpt from Alison Leigh Lily’s blog, Holy Wild, which deeply resonated with me. You can read the full article HERE.
Sometimes the very concept of “wildlife management” seems problematic to me. The desire to have a positive impact on the environment can be twisted into the beguiling belief that “technological progress will save us” from the consequences of our past and we need only sit back and enjoy our supremacy. Sometimes I think what we really need is a bit more human management: more self-restraint, more humility in the face of natural forces whose consequences we don’t (perhaps never can) fully understand.
So, the last week of my “No Plastic for a Month” challenge and it’s been harder than I anticipated. I didn’t manage to get through the whole month without buying food that had been packaged in plastic: there were three exceptions. I had to make a rice dish for a wedding, and simply could not find rice that didn’t come in plastic packaging (where I live in Suffolk there are no big bulk food suppliers, sadly, not even at large food chain superstores. I shall be writing letters to them all about this.) I also had to buy some hazelnuts and sunflower seeds (vegan diet, my protein intake) and these too were unavailable without plastic.
All in all, I’ve looked at the waste that I produce, and it’s seriously overhauled. I thought I was pretty good at not having too much rubbish to collect every two weeks. I know that even the bag of rubbish that I was throwing out a week was too much, and since the challenge this has reduced to half, or even less than half a bag of rubbish a week. An eye-opener. The plastic that a lot of packaging comes in, the bendy but not stretchy plastic, is not recyclable in my area. I didn’t realise quite how much I was still using.
There is no such thing as “away”. We do not throw our rubbish “away” – it simply ends up in another place. With dwindling oil supplies and the rate that plastic biodegrades, we seriously need to re-evaluate our relationship with it. We do not live in a disposable society, no matter how much marketing in companies try to tell us otherwise. We only have one planet, one place to live, and we must treat that with utmost respect.
I shall continue in my search to find food that isn’t wrapped in plastic, and to keep my waste as low as possible, or even lower. Shopping is now not only concerned with ethical and organic implications, but also packaging to an even higher degree than before. Working on an ethical principle that asks the question, “What if everyone did the same?” is the best guideline I’ve ever come across so far.
To all those who took this challenge with me, well done, and long may you continue. If you’d like, please share your thoughts here on this blog, or write your own blog post and ping back to me – I’d love to hear from you!
Awen blessings,
Jo.x
Druid Camp was, once again, a wonderful experience. Though we were only there for Friday evening and Saturday, leaving early Sunday morning, it was an enriching time filled with laughter, good friends, a coming together of a tribe and community, and an honouring of the land. The focus of this year’s camp was environmentalism within a spiritual context.
We arrived Friday just after 7pm, after horrendous traffic on every single motorway – it took us over seven hours to get to Camp from the Suffolk Coast – three hours longer than usual. School holidays had just begun. We checked in and then hastily made our way to the ritual circle, where Phil and Ness were being handfasted. They had met at Druid Camp years ago, and were now taking their vows and pledging their love to each other, with the tribe and community acting as witness. It was beautiful.
Later that evening, Arthur ZZ Birmingham and then Ushti Baba, a gypsy/ska/folk band got the crowd on their feet and we danced the night away.
Saturday began with a lovely yoga session led by Theo, which worked out all the kinks from the night before and set us up perfectly for the day, followed by circle dancing. The morning meeting followed, where the next two days were laid out before us with an array of choices to make, which workshops to attend, and what was taking place where. The afternoon ritual was then planned, which I will come back to in a moment.
The marketplace at midday was the biggest I had ever seen it. Beautiful crafts and homemade wares were on display, as well as books, second hand clothing, incense, ritual gear, meads and wines. Arthur ZZ Birmingham led an improvised band (and I joined in on my new doumbek) and played some great blues tunes in the heat of the midday sun.
Mid-afternoon the healing and divination area was in full swing, as were the talks and workshops. I went to Brochfael’s talk on ethics within Paganism – something which I’ve been exploring quite a bit on this blog lately. Ideas were exchanged and points of view shared in a brilliantly painted teepee, with Will delivering his talk before a tableau of a red dragon dancing in the light of the sun.
Saturday afternoon’s ritual focus had an astrological bent – Mars in the various zodiac signs. Though I’m not a great believer in astrology, it did provide an interesting framework for ritual. The idea was that one woman would represent Boudicca, discovering and learning her warrior aspect as she dedicated herself utterly to the land. She was to move through the houses of the zodiac in which Mars resided for all ritual participants. Every single ritual participant was divided up into groups based upon which sign Mars was in for their own person – for me, Mars was in Virgo. The groups would then challenge and provide Boudicca with what she needed for her journey.
When the time came for the ritual, Mark Graham opened the circle and the woman who was chosen to play Boudicca entered, looking every inch the proud warrior queen, even down to the flaming red hair. Each house of the zodiac presented her with challenges and gifts, wisdom and advice as she progressed through the circle. It was so inspiring to see the creativity of everyone, wherein each group was so different and so unique, yet coming together to create a single ritual of great beauty.
After Boudicca (who was played by a woman aptly named Victoria) had processed and been blessed by the tribe in her protection of the land, everyone came together in the circle, chanting words dependent upon their ritual designation within the elements of earth, air, fire and water. The words flowed through each other in exquisite awen, as everyone circled and chanted, sang and set their hearts free in love of the land. I was quite overcome at this point, with the seagulls flying overhead, the wind upon my skin, the earth humming with energy beneath my feet and the waters of the Severn River encircling us upon this sacred hilltop. My love for this land and for the planet, the Earth itself, overwhelmed me and tears began to slide down my mud-stained cheeks as I called to my gods, opening my heart and soul to them in utter dedication and devotion. On the outer edges of the circle, I felt a great need to connect more fully with the earth, and dropped to my knees to lay my hands upon the sacred soil. Thankfully, those in the middle of the circle soon felt a similar need, and I was not trampled under Druidic feet! Everyone in the ritual knelt down to the ground, bringing their foreheads to touch the earth in peace and love, dedication and devotion to that which holds us so utterly and beautifully in the world. A selfless love flowed through me for the entirety of the world in a rush of pure, divine awen, and I tried not to sob out loud at the release.
After the ritual I made my way back to my tent, to process and integrate what I had just experienced. My husband and I then went out for dinner at the local pub, and coming back I meditated alone (in a field of sheep, so not entirely alone) watching the sun set over the hills within a bank of cloud, the crickets singing around me and the finches twittering overhead. Utterly spent, we had an early night that night.
Sunday we went for breakfast at the café, and had a great breakfast discussion with friends old and new about what they were working on in university, on gender roles and personal life experiences. This is what I love about Druid Camp – such engaging and brilliant discussion over beans on toast.
Then it was time for the long journey home towards the North Sea coast. Coming at last to our home, smelling the familiar scents of heath and forest, of sea and sky, I sat in my backyard by my altar and honoured the land upon which I live, connected as it is to all of the British Isles and the rest of the world. I said a prayer for peace, and reaffirmed my dedication once again to my gods, with the spirits of place and the ancestors as witness.
I can’t wait to see what will happen at next year’s camp.
The view from out tent of the Severn River and the rolling hills…
Brochfael’s talk on Pagan ethics in the painted teepee, or is it a hobbit about to be eaten by Smaug???
Solar panels in the distance… how apt…
The astrological houses for the big ritual on Saturday afternoon…
My favourite tepee in the whole world…
Ritual preparation…
My friend, Sarah, found this recipe for vegan cupcakes, and they are just the best ever. Moist, lovely and scrumptious – have a go!
Vegan cupcakes
Makes 24
1 3/4 cup plain flour
1 cup sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp bicarbonate soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup veg oil
1 cup soy/almond milk
1 tbsp white vinegar
2 tbsp vanilla
Cake topping
Vegan butter
Icing sugar
Rose water (optional for flavour)
Cook at 180 for 15-18 minutes
Down the Forest Path 