An Ounce of Prevention is Worth a Pound of the Cure

Over the years I’ve done a lot of work with personal sovereignty. This is work that is never-ending. Why? Well, we must be vigilant in so many areas or our lives and in our own sovereignty, in order to cultivate it and nurture it: it’s not a one shot deal. We don’t do the work once and that’s it. It’s a process. Like learning, expanding our horizons, becoming better people, becoming who we are meant and want to be; it’s all a process.

I’ve had to learn how to be discerning in my life: in who gets to be a part of it, whose energies I will allow in, and also what I consume. Life throws so many things at you that you can’t control. However, what you can control is your own actions and your own personal sovereignty. It’s all about choice. You can, for the most part, choose who gets to be a part of your life, and who doesn’t (as an adult, at least). Yes, you will have colleagues, bosses, other people in your life who aren’t chosen, but here I’m talking about the inner circle of your life. Who gets to affect you on a personal, energetic, physical and even psychic level? Who can you leave at the door, willingly, when you walk into your personal space?

Discernment is such an important concept in our lives. When we have the power to choose, we are taking part in our own discernment and our own sovereignty. And we do, in fact, have a lot of power to choose. It’s all about finding out which areas you can boost in your discernment. Income, environment and other factors will have an affect on your discernment, and so you have to make the choices that work for you. What works for me may not work for you, or even be available to you. So we have to work with what we’ve got, first and foremost.

In this article I’m going to talk about some of the things that we consume. I’ve spoken many times about what we consume on a physical level, from a Druid’s and Pagan’s perspective, and from a Zen perspective as well. But here I’ve going to talk about what we consume on an energetic level.

Protection magic is probably the biggest area of spellcrafting in Pagan circles. Why is that? Because we are exposed to all sorts of energies throughout the course of a single day that we need to take a closer look at, and think about how it is affecting our lives. For me, it’s important to work with prevention, and that way we won’t need so much of the cure. Taking a look at the energies that we allow into our lives before they begin to affect us is the first step in this process of discernment. We may do this on a physical level already, ie., we take off our shoes before we enter into the home, to keep the dirt, bacteria and other nasties out of our home. Think about it: your shoes have been in public toilets, walked through pavements covered in all sorts of nasties such as dog wee and poo, gum, spit, etc. Do we want to track all that back into our house? Hell no. So we take our shoes off at the door. One moment spent in an airplane, train or public toilet will have you wanting to remove your shoes before you take all that into the house with you. Guaranteed.

Doing the same with energy is extremely beneficial for you too. Did you have an argument with your boss, or did someone express road rage at you on the way home? Did someone say an unkind thing to you online, or in person? Have you watched the latest world tragedy on the news, or had your television pumping out violent scenes in your living room? These all have energy, which can build up in your home and in your soul. It’s already been proven that when we are exposed to violence, we become de-sensitised to it. What I want to do is to sensitise you again, so that you are aware of these energies that affect you on a daily basis. Words and images have power, names can hurt you just as much as sticks and stones. In a world where there is more media than ever being consumed, the sheer amount of information being thrown at you whether you wanted it or not is completely staggering. So what can we do about it?

This is where discernment comes in. We can choose what we allow into our personal space in so many ways. Do you watch the news first thing in the morning on the televison while having your breakfast? Do you feel down and a little depressed with the world afterwards? Maybe you should consume this form of media at a different time, and perhaps even in a different way. Reading the newspaper can be a big help for those of us who are sensitive to images of violence and grief which are the mainstay of all the major news networks on television today. I literally can’t watch 30 mins of news with crying, because the energy of people’s suffering on the screen is real, and I know that. When I see people wailing as they search through the rubble for their child, I know that it is real. It’s not an abstract or a movie, it is real life. That energy will affect me for the rest of the day. Some people are a lot less sensitive, and can watch it and get on with their day. But I, for one, would never, ever want to be de-sensitised to violence and grief, because that is the mainstay of my own personal compassion for others and my ability to empathise. I can’t turn it off, and I wouldn’t want to, for compassion and empathy I feel make me a better person. But what I can do is to select just how much I intake these energies, so that they don’t overwhelm me on a daily basis. There is not a lot that I can do for earthquake victims thousands of miles away, apart from donating to a charity to help them. But what I can do in my own environment is a lot more, and that is where I need to spend my energy.

Social media. Yikes. When I think of the past times and energy that I have spent with people whom I don’t know from a hole in the wall, I literally cringe. Don’t waste your time and energy arguing or even interacting with nasties on social media. It depletes you and just adds to the barrage of energy that is sapping you dry. Instead, be discerning about who and what you interact with on social media. And spend less time on there overall, because the real world matters a whole lot more. Doomscrolling is a disease. Get out and turn your face to the sun, the wind, the rain, the stars. Those are energies that are a whole lot better to consume than insults or even material from people you don’t know and over which you have very little control in how it’s being presented to you. Choose your friends, your contacts,  your groups wisely. Be selective about the ads that you see. Don’t let the algorithms dictate what you will see, but instead create your own. You are not 100% at the mercy of social media providers. You are a consumer, and so you will have a say in things, even if it’s a lot smaller than you would wish. And if this is a really big issue for you, then leave it altogether. More and more people are doing this, and it’s not entirely a bad thing. Choose your social media intake wisely. Be discerning, and be sovereign.

I could probably write a whole book just on this subject, and so I will keep this article in check and just remind myself, and others, to look deeply at what it is that you are consuming and bringing into your personal space. If we are discerning about the energies that we allow in, we will need a lot less protection magic and work in the long run. It’s the first step in any energy work, and the basis of all personal sovereignty.

Blessings to you and yours.

The Goddess, Andraste

New video now up on my YouTube channel! A personal look at a local goddess I am working with deeply.

Places of Power

New video now available on my YouTube channel! Lammas blessings. xoxo

Lammas Lessons

Lammas/Lughnasadh Blessings!

The harvest season is upon us, and has started weeks ago here in Suffolk, East Anglia. The fields of wheat began to be taken in by the combine harvesters mid-July, and the sound of machinery in the distance has been part of our daily routine now, and has also gently lulled us to sleep. Tractors abound on the small country roads, and driving around can sometimes be a hair-raising experience. But harvest is here, and we are thankful.

The wheat is again very small this year, as this is the third year of drought. No rain in the spring and early summer, and now that it’s time to take the crops in, now we get the rain. This makes it difficult for the farmers to harvest, as this is a crop that needs to be dry when being taken in. Challenges lie ahead, and not just for the farmers.

Our climate is changing, due to global warming. It’s up to us to act now, but I probably didn’t need to tell you that. Everything that we do, no matter how small, makes a difference if the majority of people do it. We can’t leave it to governments to regulate – they have too much of a vested interest in the status quo financially. The revolution must start at home, in quiet but effective ways.

I’ve always loved the word, revolution. Thinking about it from a Pagan context, I see the Wheel of Life revolving, bringing change. As the popular chant goes, She changes everything She touches, and everything She touches changes. The Wheel turns, and we learn with each revolution how better to live on this planet, hopefully getting wiser with the more information that we have to hand. Hopefully.

It’s always at harvest-time that I feel the strongest turn in the Wheel of the Year. Perhaps it’s because my favourite season is approaching, and the culmination of the dreams that we had in the winter and the seeds planted in the spring are now coming to fruition. We see the results of our work. It’s that tangible evidence that helps us to evolve,  to revolve, to become our best selves that we can be in this moment in time. Our souls are revolving along with everything else on the Wheel, and change is always immanent. Nothing stays the same. It’s up to us to make this change one that is positive, rather than seeing to our own destruction.

And so this Wheel’s revolution has laid bare many things that have long gone hidden, unnoticed, or uncared for here in this part of the world. Our government’s hypocrisies, lies and incapability have been laid bare for all to see, and hopefully a great change will come with the next election. We see the weather changing dramatically all across the world, and also in our own home region as well, knowing that we must be the change we want to see in the world. The harvest is in, and it is not a good one. If we are to survive, we must learn this hard lesson that the world is providing us.

I can see ways in which, in my own life, changes need to be made and will be made, starting immediately. Lammas and harvest time is the best time to take stock of how your life is going, where it is going and how you can change it so that your future harvests will be bountiful. You have the capability to change yourself, for no one can do it for you. The responsibility lies with each of us as individuals, and not just in governments, corporations and big business. Small changes, made on a mass scale, can make a difference.

As I walk the newly harvested fields, the dried stumps of this year’s crop all that remains, I reflect on my place in the world. What can I bring to nourish the next season, the next generation? What can I do to change my world?

From here on the Suffolk Coast, I wish you harvest blessings.

Glastonbury Pilgrimage 2023

Well, I have just returned home from another Glastonbury pilgrimage. This time I seven lady friends and I from here in Suffolk went to experience the sacred sites around Glastonbury. We had a lovely time stopping at Avebury on the way, to walk among the stones and to get a feel for this ancient site, as well as having a lunch break at the Red Lion pub. We were surprised to see that their prices are still incredibly reasonable, even after everything that has happened in the last few years. In fact, we noticed that wherever we ate, we were spending around £5 to sometimes nearly £10 less than we would in Suffolk, for some reason. Since Covid hit, every pub and restaurant in Suffolk has increased their prices dramatically.  It made eating out on our roadtrip/pilgrimage even that much more enjoyable.

When we arrived in Glastonbury, a few of us immediately climbed the Tor. It was quite still, with very little breeze, which is rare on the Tor! Standing up there on top of than ancient hill felt like being on top of the world, as it always does. A few people were quietly sitting and watching the sunset, or meditating, and it was incredibly peaceful up there. The mists were beginning to gather in the Somerset levels below, and the setting sun peeped out through the clouds just before disappearing below the horizon.

The next day we began our visit to the sacred places all together. We began with the Red Spring (Chalice Well). It is a beautiful sanctuary of peace and love, with the waters of the Red Spring flowing through various gardens and areas before culminating in a gorgeous vesical pisces pool at the bottom. I always begin at the bottom, crossing the little stream and stepping through into the Otherworld before I continue my journey up through the gardens, and all the ladies did it with me together. It was wonderful.

We meditated at the pool and gazed at the flow forms, before heading up to the yew trees and walking through their gateway. We then passed beneath the archway with the wrought iron, archangel Michael’s sword over our heads, which we saw as the sword of sovereignty, rather than the archangel’s fiery blade. Once in Arthur’s Court, we took off our shoes and walked through the paddling pool, bathing our feet and beginning our spiritual pilgrimage in earnest. Afterwards we sat beneath the yews and just soaked in the atmosphere of that very healing spot in the Chalice Well gardens.

Next we moved up to the Lion’s Head, a tap where you can collect water from the Red Spring within the sanctuary of the gardens. After having bathed your feet, now you can take in the healing waters into your body and soul, having been purified and readied for the experience. We filled our bottles and, for many of the women, tasted the iron-rich water for the very first time. I love the taste, but it’s not for everyone!

From there we moved up to the holiest of holies, the wellhead. Here in this silent sanctuary we meditated on the waters with other pilgrims who gathered round in quiet companionship. Well, we tried to anyway. The pot smoke and noise across the street at the White Spring was growing, until someone blew a horn and the White Spring opened in earnest. Sigh. More on that later.

We ate a picnic lunch on the slopes of Chalice Hill, just beneath the apple orchards. The sun was shining, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day. We then headed down to the gift shop to pick up a few things, and then made our way to the Tor once again.

The climb up the Tor this time was different, with more people and the wind whipping around us. Thankfully the wind was at our backs, which felt like it was giving us a helping hand on the climb to the summit. Once there we came across a large group of people occupying the sheltered, sunny side of the tower, singing and chanting, and so we moved into the tower itself. It is a relic of the old monastery complex that used to be situated on the Tor, and is the second tower to be built there, the first having fallen after an earthquake.

We stood in the tower, looking out the doors and through the roofless structure to watch the few clouds scudding quickly across the azure blue sky. We spoke of the legends that surrounded this magical hill, and of who was said to dwell within it. We then sat in silence, taking it all in, when a lady and a man came in. She stood in the doorway and laughed, while he stood in the centre of the tower (and us) and began gyrating and shaking as if he was being electrocuted, followed by noises as if he was sexually climaxing. I rolled my eyes and left, resisting the temptation to give in to violence, and was followed by the rest of my ladies, bar one. She remained, giving him the stink eye while he continued, not allowing him to vibe her out of that space. Rock on, grrlfriend.

I then spent some time sitting on the hilltop facing west, and meditated, connecting to the energy of the Tor and the surrounding landscape, the elements and the myths and legends that abound in this magical place. I was interrupted five minutes later by some young teenagers nearby who, after smoking a joint, proceeded to record themselves making what they thought were sexual noises. Sigh again.

Eventually we headed back down the Tor and went to see if the White Spring was still open. It was, and so after a health and safety briefing we all went into the dim chamber of the Victorian wellhouse. Before this structure was built, the White Spring flowed from a fissure in the rock, coating all the plant life around it with a calcified deposit, created faery forms and shapes all around it. When cholera hit the town the decision makers decided to use the water from this spring, ignoring the calcium deposits evident all around. In a short time the pipes that connected the spring to the town were filled with calcium, and water had to be found elsewhere. It is so infuriating to think that with just a little common sense, a beautiful and sacred landmark could have been preserved.

All that being said, the wellhouse has now been transformed into a water temple. Ten years ago it was a fairly quiet place to come, reflect on the mirror pool in the centre and listen to the sound of water running all around you, down the floor and through little rivulets. In the last seven or so years however, you are lucky if you can hear the water at all, with all the other noise that visitors to the spring make in that echoing, high-ceiling chamber. Such was the case with our visit this time, as it was the last two times I have visited. There just seemed to be no regard for others visiting the site; it was all about doing your own thing and to hell with everyone around you.

The water in the big, round mirror pool was filthy. I’m not sure if it has been cleaned in recent years, but it sure didn’t look like it. It had a brown cast to it, with an oily film on the top from people jumping into it and putting all sorts of chemicals from their bodies into the water. The dipping pool is off to the left-hand side of the chamber, but people ignore it and go into the main pool anyway, regardless of whether people are trying to scry, meditate, pray or do anything near it. At any rate, I was deeply saddened to see the state of the water in the main pool. I myself have been in the water, many, many years ago now when the dipping pool didn’t exist, and the main pool was the only way to get in the water. I had booked the space for a private ritual, an hour of quiet reflecting and soft chanting, prayers and verbal offerings of thanks to the water before the doors opened to the public. We had showered before coming, and gave the space the reverence it deserved. It was a beautiful time, when everything was kept clean and the waters ran clear. It is a completely different experience now.

We had a look at the dipping pool, which was crowded all along one side by four naked men watching a naked woman bend over in front of them to get her clothes so that she could dress after going in the waters. We walked between them, appearing to be tourists having a look around as we tried to give the woman some space from these blokes. They just hung around and watched anyway.

A couple of us then moved to the Brighid shrine, and spent a few of minutes there before a large group of people took up the whole space, and we moved on again, to the shrine of Gwyn ap Nudd. The drumming had already started again, by a chap who moved from section to section providing the visitors with what he probably thought was a bitchin’, trippy experience. All he did was give me a headache from his loud, continuous hard drumming which reverberated off the stone walls and from which there was no escape. Singing began loudly from the group in Brighid’s shrine, competing with the drumming. I could take no more and had to leave. I sorely miss the simple sound of the water, and the sanctity that once occupied this space.

We left the White Spring annoyed, and all the ladies commented to me that they felt the space had been taken over by men and unthinking, male energies. I had to agree. The White Spring has definitely changed in these last 7 – 8 years, and not for the better. I feel a deep grief for the beautiful, quiet, sacred space that it used to be, and which is now a free-for-all with people climbing everywhere, doing anything they like without any regard for anyone else.

The day was getting on, and so we decided to head back to our apartments and take some time to ourselves before supper. We ate at the Who’d A Thought It inn near the market cross, and the food was pretty good apart from one meal which had to be sent back, as it was not what it purported to be. Tired from the day, we had an early night.

The next day the rain came. When it rains in Somerset, it doesn’t kid around. It rained all day, a soaking rain that is what makes this landscape so lush and green compared to the arid climate of our home county of Suffolk. But it was actually nice to be in the rain, as we have had so little in the last three years that we’ve nearly forgotten what it feels like! We spent the day shopping, and there are so many lovely shops to visit on the high street, down the alleyways and arcades. One shop that I feel I MUST mention, and which I hadn’t been in as it wasn’t there since my last visit, was Sons of Asgard. This is a witchcraft supply shop, and an amazing one at that. Well lit, with tons of homemade kits for everything you could possibly want, even a magical housecleaning kit with everything you might need to magical cleanse the home, all components made by the staff themselves! The room sprays and aura sprays I delighted in, as with my asthma I can’t burn incense indoors. These homemade sprays were divine, with essential oils, flower essences, crystal infusions and more. The choice! There were also witch ball kits, spell kits of all different kinds, and a good old-fashioned herbal apothecary corner where you could order quantities of however much you fancy, much like StarChild just a couple of doors down. I really, really loved this shop, and highly recommend it for your witchy needs.

We then had lunch at the Blue Note Café, which is still awesome. The food is just so good there. I had a wrap with a bunch of salads – you can get five little salads on the plate or chips instead, but I always go for the salads as they are delicious: potato, cous cous, coleslaw, bean and greek salad complimented my wrap. And all at pre-Covid prices too!

We visisted the Goddess Temple next, which opens from 12 noon to 4pm. I love the Goddess Temple. It’s just a room in the top of a building in a courtyard, but it’s so filled with love and energy and devotion that it has taken up a spirit of its own. You truly feel like you are entering sacred space because, well, you are! In their own Wheel of the Year, they are in the element of water for the summer months, and so the temple was decorated accordingly, with super soft music to reflect that energy. Both times I visited they were playing Jennifer Berezan’s “Returing” song, which is one of my favourites for meditating on the divine feminine, and which is also a firm favourite with the temple. I spent a large chunk of time alone within the circle of nine morgens, feeling their energy and blessings whirl around me in a clockwise circle as The Lady of Avalon gazed down at me from the large painting on the altar. Pure heaven.

We then did some more shopping before our feet and legs gave out, and we retreated back to our housing for a cuppa and some R&R before supper. We ate that night at Gigi’s, an Italian restaurant again near the market cross, and it was superb. I highly recommend their pizzas, and the risotto had rave reviews from the ladies too.

Another early night, followed by an early start awaited us. We filled up bottles of water at the taps outside the Red and White Springs before beginning our long journey across the widest expanse of England, back to Suffolk and our homes on the east coast. From east to west and back again we made our pilgrimage over four days, and we came away with some special memories. Glastonbury, thank you for your beautiful, sacred places, and I hope that they all maintain or redeem their respected status, now and forever more.

New Video!

Well, I decided to get the drone out, regardless of the weather and the wind. I went into the forest, where there was some shelter, and thought I’d put into images what I wrote in my last blog post. So, enjoy!

The Deer’s Secret

The fallow deer stags have shed their antlers on the heath and in the forest in the last few weeks. As I found one atop a small rise next to ancient Celtic tumuli (burial mounds), dropped on the grassy tuft of a half sunken oak stump, I was gifted with this beautiful reminder that we all need to let go of certain things in our life.

It can be hard to let go. Whether it is past experiences, trauma, emotions or loved ones, eventually we will have to let go at some point. If we don’t, we will hinder ourselves as we travel through life on our own personal journeys. Just as a deer must shed his antlers in order to grow new ones, so must we shed that which no longer serves us in our lives. If the deer doesn’t shed his antlers properly, fully and completely, complications arise when the new ones begin to form. When the time is right, the stag knows when to let go. Sometimes it is with a simple, gentle shake; other times the antlers need to be knocked off purposefully on low trees branches or stumps. Either way, the setting is created for new growth.

The stag’s antlers grow throughout the summer, enabling him to display them proudly come the autumn rut. When growing, the antlers are covered in a beautiful, soft velvet to protect them and allow for room to grow into the shapes destined for that year. When the antlers are full grown the velvet begins to fall off, and the deer helps this process by rubbing it on trees to shed the last of the strips and allow the antlers to fully dry out and harden in the early autumn sunshine. The older the deer, the more points on the antler appear. There are some majestic old King Stags on the heath, whose great strong necks hold up a crown that is almost impossible to imagine. These antlers will help fight off any challengers to the does that have chosen to be with a certain stag, and are both an aggressive and defensive means, one tool of many for the continuation of the herd. When the antlers are no longer needed they are shed, demonstrating the cycle of life, death and rebirth, and the need to let go of that which no longer serves.

Though many in the Pagan community use the festival of Samhain to reflect on what no longer serves them in their lives, for me here living with the local deer community it is the month of May where I find this inspiration. Closely observing the deer, hauling buckets of water out onto the heath for them in the last two years as we have had so little rainfall, leaving offerings of seeds and song, I have established a relationship with them that is so beautiful and inspiring. They know me now, and I have watched as young prickets have matured into stags, and lead does hand over the power to a younger female as their reign over the herd comes to a natural close. I have spent an amazing three years with a white doe, always catching her watching me as I roam the heathland and knowing that she carries messages from the Otherworld in her spiritual capacity. Though she is now gone from us, her spirit lives on in the dappled light of the beech wood and the gentle breeze that blows the heather bells, ringing the faery bells in both this world and the Otherworld.

If we are unable to let go, we cannot move forward with health, vitality and authenticity. We will hinder our progress, sabotage our current situation and be mere shadows of who we could be. The deer remind us that letting go is not a one-time affair, but a process that happens again and again as we work our way through the spirals of life. Every year they must shed their antlers, this cyclic dance of the Antlered God reminding us of the process, and how to move through it.

Some of what holds us back are shadow aspects that no longer serve us in the present moment. While they may have been necessary coping mechanisms in their time, in this present moment they only stop us from being our true, authentic selves. We may have been hurt in the past, but that hurt lies in the past, and carrying it always into the present moment is a burdensome thing to bear. Instead, letting go again and again is the way to move forward, to develop the skills necessary to cope with what life is doing at this very moment in time. We must learn to shed that which no longer serves, and grow into our antlers of sovereignty. And when the time comes, we shed those antlers too.

From “Stories of the Knights of the Round Table” by Henry Gilbert, first edition, 1911.

The sword Excalibur that was given to King Arthur needed to be returned to the Lady of Lake upon Arthur’s death. We return that which no longer serves to the earth, to the waters of the subconscious, to the Otherworld and the Goddess in order for it to be transformed and wrought anew when the time is come. This cyclic myth may have been created through observation of the natural world, and the cycles of the flora and fauna that inspire Pagan mythology. We wield our swords of sovereignty, and then return the power to the land when the time is right, ready to forge anew what it is that we need in the next cycle, like a stag shedding his antlers and then growing anew.

As I look out over my laptop and out into the verdant green of the garden, the beech, ash and birch trees swaying in the light breeze, I am filled with the beauty and mystery of this earthly life and its cycles. We have come out of a long, difficult winter and now the summer is in full swing. The world has turned soft and lush, the bare branches of the trees now heavy and singing in full voice of the songs of summer. The blackbirds join in the song all day long, and the house martins beep beep overhead as they dive and glide to feed their young. That all important Mystery that lies at the heart of Pagan traditions is so abundant all around me, and I am so grateful for this journey. I know what it is that needs letting go, and I do it each and every day, until I find that I am no longer carrying it but have instead stored it away neatly on the shelves of life experience. I walk forward free, able to grow and be in my full, sovereign self.

Thanks to the Deer’s Secret.

Is Nature Indifferent to Us?

I love this Calvin and Hobbes cartoon, by Bill Watterson. It speaks to me on so many different levels, not least of all as a Mother of Cats. But it’s mostly the first part that I’ll be pondering over in this blog post today.

Is nature indifferent to us? Well, perhaps on the whole, yes. Nature could be indifferent to everything. The entirety of nature is such a vast concept, to me it’s like pondering deity, for in my own religious and spiritual view, nature is deity.

However, in my own personal practice, I feel that the gods are not indifferent to us, so where does that leave me with regards to the above? I’m just not sure. Could it be a paradox, that the deities care and don’t care at the same time? That would make them truly similar to cats…

It’s hard to come to terms with the darker aspects of nature, the pain and suffering that exists. Just yesterday there as a fox in the garden, and it looked like s/he had been hit by a car. One of their back legs wasn’t working, and there was definitely trauma to the back leg and hip. The fox had worried all the fur off of the back leg, hip and tail. It was taking respite from the wind in our garden, sheltered as it is by hedges. It also had a nice long drink from our pond.

After a while I went out to see just how badly it was injured. It couldn’t hear me above the wind, and I didn’t want to startle it so I called softly out to it. It turned its head and then quickly stood up. I gave it a quiet wave and it ran on its three legs back through the hole in the hedge and was gone.

I put some food out for it later that day, and will be doing so each night. I fear that the chances that this fox will survive are pretty slim, but at least it won’t die on an empty stomach.

I meditated that night on the suffering that goes on all around us, every second of every day. That poor fox was in lot of pain, but there was nothing I could do about it. Even had I called the Suffolk Wildlife Trust, chances are that by the time they got here the fox would be long gone anyway. I wondered at how such a thing could happen, could be “allowed” to happen to a beautiful creature as this fox. Tears flowed as I struggled with the suffering of so many lives right now.

People are in the hospital, wars are going on, wild animals are being hit by cars, the oceans and rivers are full of raw sewage and plastic – I could go on and on. It sure seems like the majority of humans today are indifferent to nature, so why shouldn’t nature be indifferent to us?

But nature hasn’t been indifferent to me. I have had wonderful experiences of true connection. I understand how we are all part of this one, great whole. I just wish that others could understand this, in order to save ourselves from our own self-destruction, and the widespread destruction of nature all around us.

But nature is also indifferent. The wind blows whether we like it or not. We have no say in earthquakes, sunshine or rain. Perhaps this is not indifference, but our own inability to see the bigger picture, the whole. 

I am not offended by the seeming indifference nature has for us. Rather, I see it as an opportunity to show nature how much I really care. I aim to live in this world as best I can, with as much sympathy, empathy and compassion as I am able to give. I seek to be a contributing, functioning member of my own local ecosystem, and thereby a part of the wider world too.

Maybe nature really is like a cat. Sometimes it appears indifferent, and other times we can feel the genuine affection that it has for us, if only we are sensitive enough to feel it and open enough to accept it.

New Video: Spiritual Downtime

It’s okay to take a break 🙂

I have a new course: An Introduction to Freya

I am offering a new course! An Introduction to Freya: Goddess of Life, Sovereignty and Magic.

For more information, please visit my website at joannavanderhoeven.com.

If you are interested, please email me at vanderhoevenjoanna@gmail.com.

‘Freyja and the Necklace’, 1890. Freya. Illustration from “Teutonic Myths and Legends” by Donald A Mackenzie, 1890.