Learning Druidry

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What Does Your Life Look Like When No One is Watching?

Social media, urgh. Devices, urgh. Sharing every aspect of you life with people you’ve never even met, urgh. Right now, this is 99% of internet life for most people these days.

I’m going to go on a little rant now, about the ‘good old days’ when we didn’t have mobile phones, internet, heck, even cable tv. Yes, I’m GenX. As kids, we lived most of our lives outside, unless there was a thunderstorm or it was colder than -25C. Friends came over to play, and we had in-person conversations and social interactions. It wasn’t abstract, it wasn’t one-step removed from a real personal meeting. And I feel that we are losing that reality at an incredible rate.

Even if, like me, you’re perfectly happy being on your own and social interactions are kept to a bare minimum, there is still so much relationship to be had with the real world, the natural world around you. I’m hardly ever lonely, because there are birds around me, deer, trees, the sea, the forest. But all that is being sacrificed to spend time online in a virtual world where you can’t smell the woodsmoke on the air, feel the wintery sunlight on your face or walk through the dewy grass. And yes, I see the irony of expressing myself with these words you are reading here on my online blog, my voice being carried virtually across continents to people I’ve never met. But just bear with for a few moments longer, if you would.

I love silence. I crave silence. Most of my day is spent in silence, the only sound the birds in the garden and the clacking of the keyboard as I write my books. But then that wonderful silence is broken by having to post on social media, to remain visible, to post content to keep the algorithm going. And yet I often wonder as I feed the beast that is social media, am I being nourished as well?

I am providing content for these platforms, but am I getting anything in return? When it all comes down to it, there is very little return on the investment of my time and effort spent in these places. But we are taught, aren’t we, that we must post, we must share, we must continue to be present in these spaces. It’s one of the greatest illusions of all time.

And we can get caught up in it all, letting it seep into every single moment of every single day. I have to retrain my brain, because every time I see a wonderful sunset, I want to share it with the world. When I go for a walk and see the deer, I whip out my phone to record them, hoping to inspire others with the beauty of nature. But I am missing out on being present in that moment, with the sunset, with the deer, with the world that is trying to interact with me. It’s like going down to the pub with your mate, who is trying to video everything for their own social media. What’s the point? Who does that nourish? Certainly not one’s own self or the person you are with.

It’s the greatest con of all time.

Here’s the question we should be asking ourselves, day in and day out:

What does my life look like, when no one is watching?

Some people might realise that they don’t even have a life that goes undocumented, and they then must create one, which can be an utter joy and a balm for the soul or frightening as hell. Others realise how much of their lives are a complete and utter illusion, and want the real stuff, the good stuff, that which feeds our soul and not the beast.

We have to release ourselves from this need for validation.

As a self-published author I need social media in order to get the word out about my work. But social media does not need me. It’s an imbalanced relationship. Some people might say the same of cats, but they are obviously not cat people.

It’s okay to live a life that is your own, and not shared with the world. I am making a serious effort to reign in the desire, the need, the built-in mode of share, share, share that social media instructs us to do. Because for the most part, it’s not to our benefit. It changes the way we think, the way we behave, and we can completely lose ourselves in the process. And that’s not something I’m willing to do.

So I will be spending less time in a virtual world, hoping to retrain my brain to be with me in this world, where the cat wants to play, the branches on the trees are sparkling in the sunlight after the rain, and remembering what my life is like when no one is watching.

Because that’s the most important life of all.  

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September Full Moon and Eclipse Magick

September and October are my favourite months of the year. Nature is winding down, the slant of afternoon sunlight is more golden, and the smell of fallen leaves drifts through the air. This September has started with rain, finally, here in the East of England. We still need much more rain, even though storms have come and gone almost every day this week. Our rivers, streams, and reservoirs are still low, and we hope that this autumn and winter they will be replenished, as last year they hadn’t been filled over the colder months as they should have been. The heat and dry weather over the last six months have taken their toll on the trees, grasses, and wildlife in the area.

And so, I welcome the rain, and the coming autumn months. I seek respite from the harsh sun, from the heat and humidity. I long for the cool breezes, for jumpers and jeans, for cold nights and the scent of woodsmoke from the cottages around me.

The full moon on Sunday, 7 September reflects this feeling. Here in Britain, the full moon will rise in a full eclipse, something which will be spectacular to see, if the skies are clear on the horizon. I hope to watch it rise from the North Sea, blood red and powerful during this harvest time. For me, this eclipsed moon and its deep red colour connects me to my ancestors and the hard work that they endured during harvest season. It is also a magickal moon, which connects me to the wise women and cunningmen of my ancestors, whose gifts have been passed down from generation to generation.

It is a moon also of manifestation: with the aid of the ancestors, allow the power of this lunar eclipse to manifest for you what it is that you have worked so hard for all year long, with the extra energy of not only the full moon’s magick, but the eclipse, blood-red energy of the ancestors who have got your back.

Attune to your power, and know that long lines of ancestors stand behind you. Those magickal people who have passed down their gifts in your bloodline will want you to succeed, to thrive. Use that energy during this moon, and be blessed.

P.S. Don’t forget, pre-order are now available on Amazon for Smugglers and Secrets, Book 4 of my fiction series, Witches of the New Forest 🙂

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Samhain: The Origins of Hallowe’en

This article is in response to an article in my local village newsletter, declaring the so-called “evils” of Hallowe’en. Hallowe’en is not evil and is, in fact, a very ancient British tradition that spread to North America.

Hallowe’en stems from an ancient British tradition of the Celtic peoples. It was, and still is known as the festival of Calan Gaeaf (Welsh) or Samhain (Irish) which begins at sunset on the 31st October and runs to sunset on the1st November accordingly. The Celtic year was divided into two halves, the light half and the dark half. The light half began at the beginning of May, which marked the start of summer. The dark half began at Samhain (Irish) or Calan Gaeaf (Welsh) which marked the start of winter. The word Samhain is thought to be derived from “summer’s end”, being a linguistic inversion of sam-fuin.  Samhain is a time that lies between times, and is a time that is not a time. It is the end of summer, and marks the time just before we enter the dark half of the year, often referred to as the Celtic New Year. It is a liminal time, and begins at dusk on 31st October on the calendrical year. (All Celtic holidays begin at dusk, the day before the calendrical date.) Some Druids follow a more agricultural or seasonal calendar, and celebrate Samhain when the first frosts appear. 

Samhain is known popularly today as Hallowe’en. This stems from the Christian Hallowmass. What is interesting to note is that the Feast of All Saints, which follows the day after Hallowmass used to take place in May. It was moved in 834 to the 1st November, presumably to compete with the more Pagan traditions in an attempt to move the common folk away from such beliefs and practices.

Samhain is a time to remember the dead, and to welcome them. The dead are never far from us, and the Celtic worldview comprised a sort of ancestor veneration found the world over in Pagan traditions. Deceased relatives could come and visit the home, and so door were often left unlocked so that they could enter. Some use the tradition of a “Dumb Supper”, where food and places are laid out alongside the family’s fare for the dead, and the meal is eaten in silence. These plates were then taken outside as offerings to the spirits and the Fair Folk. Hollowing out turnips or sugar beets, and later pumpkins (which were/are much easier to carve) and placing a candle inside could provide a lantern by which the dead could find their way. Candles may have been left in windows as well, to help guide the way. Apples as well have a place at this festival, for one of the traditions was for a maiden to peel an apple and throw the peel over her shoulder: the letter that it formed was the initial of the name of the man she would marry. The custom of bobbing for apples is also thought to derive from Samhain traditions, with the lucky (and wet!) winners receiving fortune for the rest of the year. Brushing your hair and eating an apple while looking in a mirror at Samhain was said to reveal in the reflection the face of your true love. Modern-day trick or treating is said to come from the ancient buachaillí tui, disguised people who characterised the dead and lead a white mare (hobby horse) called Láir Bhán. This horse was symbolic of the goddess of the land.

At Samhain, when we arrive at summer’s end, is a liminal time. The veils between this world and the Otherworld are thin, and so we see the custom of dressing up or guising to protect the living from the “unhappy dead”. It could also be seen as an acknowledgement of the dead returning, and as a sort of celebration of the fact.

Samhain was celebrated by the Druids in Ireland high on the hilltops with fire, from an ancient ritual on Tlachtga or the Hill or Ward in Meath.  Tlachtga was sacred to the Druids, whereas Tara was the place of the High King. Tlachta could be viewed from Tara, and a fire on Tara may have been lit in response, allowing the Druid’s to light their fire first, in their role as advisors.  The Feast of Tara took place three days before and three days after Samhain. There is an alignment of the sun and moonrise from at Samhain from Tlachtga to a standing stone in Slieve na Caileach and also Lambay Island. Tara has an alignment from the Samhain sunrise to “Lugh’s Seat” at the “Pillars of Samhain” and a cairn dedicated to the goddess, Mór-Ríoghan above the Keash caves in County Sligo.  In Irish tradition many ancient hills and fairyforts were connected by paths which the Sidhe were said to travel. At Samhain, the Celts would be taking their cattle down from the high grounds to their winter lodgings, and so would the Fairy Folk. It was wise to avoid the fairy paths or alignments on this day/night for this very reason.

At Glastonbury in Somerset, England, the Wild Hunt is said to ride out of the hill of Glastonbury Tor, with Gwyn ap Nudd, the Lord of Annwn at its head. He collects the souls of those who have died over the past year, and acts in the role of psychopomp, leading the souls to their rightful place in the Otherworld or afterlife. Fire rituals may well have been a part of ancient ceremony on the Tor, being a hill that could be seen for many miles in the surrounding flat countryside. Recently, a Samhain fire festival honouring The Wild Hunt now takes place at Glastonbury Tor every year, and is hugely popular, with modern-day Druids officiating the ceremonies.

In County Derry in Ireland, they celebrate the Spirit of Samhain, or Spiorad na Samhna. It is a hugely popular event, with over 30,000 people coming to participate and enjoy the festivities today, with a parade and fireworks, acrobats, fire-breathers, stories, song and more. This is echoed in Edinburgh, Scotland, where the Beltane Fire Society also holds a Samhuinn event every year. This began in 1995 and has grown ever since, with street performance and theatre in the heart of the city. A large, dramatic ritual ceremony is created and re-enacted each year by different groups which include dancers, drummers, actors and more.

So as you can see, Hallowe’en is not evil. It is an ancient tradition which people across Britain are still practicing today. It is a celebration and veneration of our ancestors, much as others festivals across the world do at this time of year, such as Dios de los Meurtos, or the Day of the Dead in Mexico. Simply because something is not Christian, doesn’t make it evil.

Resources:

Baker, Des “Spiora na Samhna”, Underground Short Film Festival, 2015

Butler, Dr Jenny ” The Festival of Samhain & Halloween in Ireland “, Crypt Interview

Eastwood, Luke “Tlachtga and the Ancient Roots of Hallowe’en/Samhain”, Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids

Hutton, R. (2011) Blood and Mistletoe: The History of the Druids in Britain: Yale University Press

Restall Orr, (2016) E. This Ancient Heart 2016 Moon Books

Restall Orr, E. (2004) Living Druidry: Magical Spirituality for the Wild Soul: London: Piatkus Books Ltd

Talboys, G. (2002) Way of the Druid: Rebirth of an Ancient Religion: O Books

Telyndru, J. (2005) Avalon Within: A Sacred Journey of Myth, Mystery and Inner Wisdom

van der Hoeven, J. (2014) The Awen Alone: Walking the Path of the Solitary Druid: Moon Books

van der Hoeven, J. (2021) The Book of Hedge Druidry: A Complete Guide for the Solitary Seeker: Llewellyn Worldwide

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The Struggle is Real

Pagan books sales have gone down radically in the last year and a half, despite the increasing number of books being made available. It seems to reflect what many of us authors have been worried about for several years now. The sales aren’t even made up with e-books, as those have dropped significantly as well. Audiobooks for non-fiction still aren’t that popular either, and the revenue from them has always been minimal. So why is there this sudden and sharp decline in books sales?

When I first started learning about and practicing various forms of Paganism in the early 1990’s, books and events were the go-to places to gather the information that I sought out. The choice of books available in the bookstores was only a handful stuffed somewhere in the “New Age” section. The internet didn’t exist, but you could order books from glossy catalogues that companies such as Llewellyn provided, which wasn’t too bad if you lived in the US but if you lived anywhere else, the shipping fees were astronomical. And so you just had to make do with what your local bookstore provided. If you were lucky to have a witchy type shop near you, the selection was a little better, but shelf space was always at a premium. And we didn’t even bother much with libraries back then, because they would never stock those sorts of books in the first place. Finding books to read was a real struggle, but such a joy when you did find one that resonated with you.

The coming of the internet was a huge blessing for the Pagan community who wanted to connect with others, talk about authors and books and find solace with others when the community was so small and so widespread. Books began to be marketed online, which was a real boon to the publishing industry. And yet, with more people online than ever before, what has happened to book sales lately? Surely they should still be increasing?

Nope. I’ve talked to my publishers, I’ve talked to other authors and everyone is seeing a real downturn in books sales. We’ve been scratching our heads, trying to figure out why. As book lovers ourselves, it’s difficult to fathom how this downturn has come about so suddenly. So here is my take on what’s going on, and how it could very well spell the end of non-fiction books in the coming future.

  1. People can get information for free online. As people are online more and more and there are so many different channels to get information from, why buy a book? You could watch a video, read a blog and receive a ton of information anywhere for free. I know that if I was a youngster just starting out, the majority of my information would be garnered from this form of transmission simply because it is free.
  • People don’t have spare cash to buy books right now. Everyone I know is hurting more and more financially, and if it comes down to buying your groceries for the week or buying a book, you will buy the food. I hope.
  • You can find pirated copies of pretty much anything online. Need I say more?
  • Attention spans are waning. It’s a fact. “In the early 2000s, she and her team tracked people while they used an electronic device and noted each time their focus shifted to something new—roughly every 2.5 minutes, on average. In recent repeats of that experiment, she says, the average has gone down to about 47 seconds.” https://time.com/6302294/why-you-cant-focus-anymore-and-what-to-do-about-it/ (I actually had trouble reading this article, not because of attention span but because four different pop-ups kept interrupting my reading. Oh, the irony.)
  • When a book is released, it is competing will millions of other books these days. With so much choice, it’s wonderful for the reader out there. But for the author? It seriously dilutes the sales. Unless you have a slick marketing team that works for you.
  • Authors can’t afford slick marketing teams. The shift in lots of publishing has been to place the onus of marketing up on the author, as the publishers have to make cuts somewhere just to stay competitive. Most authors aren’t marketers. I spent nearly a decade in marketing for a world-famous music venue here in England. That has seen me in good stead for the last ten years, but even now I’m struggling against a tide of everything that I’ve mentioned above.

The struggle is real, folks. I hope one day that books will have a resurgence, that cosying up with a book on a rainy day will replace hiding under your duvet with your smartphone. There is just something about a book, something that feels like an old friend you can turn to, something that you can hold in your hands, that ages even as you age, the feel of something material rather than something immaterial.

 Go analogue for a while. Slow down. Smell the books along the way. Because who knows how long they’ll be here?

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The Mabon Debate

There is some debate in the Pagan community about using the word ‘Mabon’ to refer to the Autumn Equinox. In 1974, Aiden Kelly was looking for a name to put to the Autumn Equinox that had similarities to the descent of Kore or Persephone. He chose Mabon from Welsh literature, the son who was stolen away from his mother and which Culhwch was tasked to find to win the hand of the beautiful Olwen. With the aid of King Arthur he did indeed free Mabon from his imprisonment, as told in the Tale of Culhwch and Olwen in the Mabinogi.

At first glance, it would appear that Mabon’s disappearance and rescue has very little to do with the equinox, and the similarities between his story and that of Kore can appear tenuous at best. However, there are other aspects to Mabon that do very much relate to the Autumn Equinox, which I haven’t seen discussed anywhere (but that may just be because I live in a cave deep in the woods).

I think the most important aspect of Mabon is that it was said that he was the greatest hunter of all time. And when does hunting season begin? For the majority of hunted animals which here in the UK are birds, it is around the Autumn Equinox when the season really gets underway. Deer hunting technically starts at the beginning of August, but the deer are hard to find as they are still hiding away from the summer’s heat until it gets dark. It is around the Autumn Equinox when you are able to see them out again during the day, from late afternoon onwards.

It is also when the constellation of Orion (The Hunter) becomes more visible in the night sky, albeit still in the east before dawn but slowly awakening and becoming more ‘upright’ so that he can stride across our skies followed by his hound during the winter months. As well, it’s when the temperature shifts, and the warmth leaves us as the cold northerly winds begin to blow, hinting at the Wild Hunt and winter’s reign to come. So yes, for me the honouring Mabon as the hunter does make sense at this time of year, though that may not have been the original intention.

Some argue that our ancient ancestors did not care about the autumn or spring equinox. To that, I would say look to our ancient megaliths.  In 1966, C. A. ‘Steve’ Newham found an alignment for the equinoxes at Stonehenge by drawing a line between one of the Station Stones with a posthole next to the Heel Stone. The equinox sunrise is beautifully framed by the Gossan Stones in the Wicklow Mountains, Ireland. Callanish in Scotland has an alignment with the equinox, and so does Newgrange in Ireland. Most of these places are famed for their solstice alignments, but they also do have other alignments which are not only solar, but lunar as well.

At the Autumn Equinox here in the rural British countryside we are also in the thick of harvest season, which begins at the start of August and runs through to the end of October. As such, some people argue that we should be celebrating Harvest Home. I love that name, but the origins are unclear. It may have been derived from Germanic Pagan traditions that have since been co-opted by the Christian Church, but we can’t quite be sure of its Pagan roots. Harvest Home services are held in many local, rural churches including the one in my own little village on the Suffolk Coast in the East of England. Today Harvest Home is now very much associated with Christianity. That’s not to say that we can’t incorporate it into our own festivals, because it’s what traditions from all over the world have done and still do over time. We learn, borrow and make stuff our own all the time. The Romans were masters at it. But that leads us to the argument of cultural appropriation.

The cultural appropriation argument against Mabon is that it is using a Welsh word/cultural hero and throwing it into ritual without awareness or regard for where it came from. And this is a wholly important thing to consider. However after you’ve done the research, and you find Mabon is known as the greatest hunter then the correlations to this time of hunting and harvesting make more sense, and seem less tenuous. As well, if we believe that we shouldn’t be using Welsh words in our Wiccan, Witchcraft, Druid [insert name of Pagan tradition here] then we really shouldn’t be using Samhain, or Beltane, or Imbolc, should we? We are using the words that have lasted through the years, but if we are not Irish or Scottish for instance, should we even be using these words in our traditions? I think of how many people today still say that Samhain is the Celtic New Year. On the flipside of that, I wonder how many people honour the god Belenus at Beltane? These are all Gaelic words that have been co-opted and given a different flair for various rituals in different Pagan traditions today that sometimes retain very little of the original source.

So should we rewrite all our traditions’ rituals and give them all new names?

Maybe.

But I still like Mabon.

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The Three Realms of Druidry: The Land

A new video is now up on my YouTube channel, the first of a three-part series on the The Realms of Druidry (Land, Sea and Sky). I hope you like it!

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What Is Hedge Druidry?

There seems to be some confusion over just what Hedge Druidry is, even in the Druid community. I should hope that my writing will clear up some of this confusion and misperception, and for a full account there is always the work that I am most proud of, which is The Book of Hedge Druidry: A Complete Guide for the Solitary Seeker. However, here in blog post I will address some of the misconceptions, and share my love, knowledge and experience of the tradition.

Let’s begin with one of the latest misconceptions that I have come across. I have read in a recently released book on Druidry that Hedge Druids are those “who believe that each Druid can make it up as they go along, collecting bits of lore and ways of worshipping from disparate sources, Druid or not, both ancient and recently invented.” The tone of this seems to be a bit condescending and condemning, and perhaps comes from an uninformed point of view regarding Hedge Druidry as a specific tradition.

Hedge Druidry is deeply connected to the culture, language and study of ancient and modern Druidry. Without that, it wouldn’t be Druidry. Only by understanding the history and context of Druidry, both ancient and modern, can we create an inspirational tradition today that is rooted in the past, but not chained to it. For Druidry does evolve, in order to be relevant to today’s world. But the above statement isn’t entirely untrue either, though probably not in the light that it was presented.

Do we make it up as we go along? Well I much prefer spontaneous ritual, that’s for certain. My words in ritual are never written down. I have an idea of what I am going to say, along with the ritual actions and intention based upon my decades of research into Druidry and the many, many rituals that I have performed over the years. I might write down my ritual beforehand, especially if I am sharing it with others, with a set ritual format to follow, but the words, the feelings and motions are totally spontaneous, deeply in the moment and connected to the spirits of time and place. My rituals are based on a knowledge and love of Celtic lore and my rituals, offerings, and prayers are all rooted in that soil. I have studied Druid ritual in many, many forms and, as no one single tradition of Druidry has survived since ancient times, we are all just trying to create rituals that are sound and which are inspiring, which connect us to the time, place, ancestors and deities based on what we know from history and what is meaningful today. Druidry has no liturgy, but many of my own rituals and those of other Hedge Druids follow a stylised format entrenched in Celtic lore and deeply connected to the land. It gives us an outline to follow, to which our spontaneous words spoken in the moment to those who are with us, both human and other-than-human, can witness.

Do we collect bits of lore and ways of worshipping from disparate sources, Druid or not, both ancient and recently invented? Of course we do. So do all Druids, whether they are Celtic Reconstructionist or from any other branch on the Druidic tree. We have ancient Classical Greek accounts, Roman accounts, and Irish and Welsh records written by Christian monks. We also pull from modern archaeology and, for some, the Romantic and other Revival periods in history, art and literature. We also look through the lens of comparative religion, in order to better understand and make links to the Druid tradition where there might be gaps in the knowledge, looking at shared proto-Indo European roots such as with Hinduism.

As well, there is the importance of the hedge in Hedge Druidry, which is often forgotten, not mentioned or not even known to some in the Druid community.

So just what is Hedge Druidry then? Well, here’s an excerpt from the beginning of my book, The Book of Hedge Druidry:

The Hedge Druid is a more recent term that applies to someone who walks the Druid path for the most part alone, using their wit and intelligence, the wisdom gained from long hours of research and practical experience in order to create their own tradition that is right for them and their environment. The term “hedge” when applied to Druidry stems from the 19th century term, “hedge priest”, which denoted a priest of the Christian faith who did not follow a particular or established tradition, had no church per se and who preached “from the hedgerow”. The term was first applied to Witchcraft in modern Paganism, and popularised by the author Rae Beth. The term then spread to Druidry, and became synonymous with solitary practitioners, who were not part of any Order or Grove or other established sect. Not all solitary practitioners of Druidry would call themselves Hedge Druids, however it is a term that is growing in popularity. However, in this work I shall show how Hedge Druidry goes beyond the notion of a solitary practitioner, into something that is deeper and more connected to the natural world.

The Hedge Druid is also one who rides the hedge, who travels between the worlds, who works with boundaries and the liminal places where the edges blend and meet. The term “hedge-riding” is a practice found in the Pagan community, mostly in Witchcraft traditions. It stems from the German word hagazissa which means “hedge sitter”. The Saxon term is “haegtessa” and both are where we get our word “hag”. Someone who rides the hedge can straddle the worlds, this world and the Otherworld, to bring back wisdom and information to use in our world, the Middleworld. We will learn more about the importance of the hedge and also hedge riding in later chapters. Suffice it to say that working with the boundaries of the civilised world and that which lies beyond the hedgerow is the world of the Hedge Druid, connecting and weaving together those threads to shape the world and find balance and harmony with the whole. It is the known world and the wilderness beyond that shapes and informs our earth-based tradition.

For me, Druidry is mostly a solitary path, though I do belong to some Druid Orders and networks, and celebrate the seasons with a few friends.  But the everyday Druidry, the currents of intention that flow through me and my home and through the landscape where I live is my main focus.  It is a mostly solitary pursuit. Like learning, I always preferred to do it on my own, rather than working with a group, for I found that my concentration was higher, and I could have a deeper level of experience than I could with the influence of others upon my work. The day to day living of my Druid path is what is most important, punctuated by the celebration of the seasons and festivals with others.

Of course, we are never truly solitary creatures, but in this sense I am using the word “solitary” with regards to other humans.  I am never truly solitary, for I am always surrounded by nature and all its creatures every single second of my life.  I am always a part of an inter-connected web of existence. Living this connection, weaving the threads of my life to that of my environment and all that exists within it, means that there is no separation, no isolation. Yet, when asked to describe my path, I use the word solitary or Hedge Druid in the sense that I prefer to find such connection on my own, without other humans around. Why this should be so is perhaps due to my nature: naturally shy, and sensitive to noise, light, barometric pressure and other phenomena, it is just easier to be “alone” most of the time.

It is similar to the path of the mystic, or a monastic. The path of the mystic is much the same; a solitary path where personal connection to the divine is the central focus.  Some would say that the mystic path is the search for the nature of reality. For me, Druidry is the search for reality within nature, and so the two can walk hand in hand down this forest path. There are many elements of mysticism in my everyday life, where the songs of the land and the power of the gods flow through me, the knowledge from the ancestors deep within my blood and deep within the land upon which I live, rooted in its soil and sharing its stories on the breeze. To hold that connection, day in and day out, to live life fully within the threads of that tapestry is what I aspire to do, each and every moment.  Sometimes a thread is dropped, and it requires a deep mindfulness to restore it, but practice helps when we search for those connecting threads, becoming easier with time and patience both with the world and with your own self.

The monastic retreats from the world to connect with the essence of the divine, however you may describe it.   There is a deliberate intention to be separate from the so-called “mundane” world, or secular culture. However, within Druidry we realise that there is no such thing as mundane, and the duality between the physical and the spiritual is something that is anathema to the tradition. Learning how to be in the world is of great value, even as great value is found in being alone. For some, I’m sure a monastic Druid tradition would be a most agreeable way to live, but for most they prefer to work in the world rather than separate themselves from it, because they understand that separation is merely an illusion.  Most non-gregarious Druids would prefer the path of the mystic, rather than the monastic, for that very reason. The mystic seeks integration, the monastic separation.

Yet both have many other similarities. Both seek to release the vice-like grip we have on our sense of self, the ego that we try to protect at all costs. The dissolution of the ego can be seen as at the heart of many Eastern traditions. Druidry teaches us integration, our ego perhaps not dissolving but blending in with that of our own environment. We don’t think less of ourselves, but rather think of ourselves less. The animism that is a large part of Druidry for many helps us to see the sacredness of all existence, and in doing so we are not seeking annihilation, but integration. We can perhaps dissolve the notions and out-dated perceptions that we have, both about the world and about ourselves, leaving the self to find its own edges and then blending in to the world around us, truly becoming part of an ecosystem where selflessness is not altruistic, but necessary for the survival of the system.

The flowing inspiration (otherwise known as the awen) where soul touches soul and the edges melt away into an integrated way of being has always been at the heart of Druidry.  The three drops of inspiration or wisdom from the goddess Ceridwen’s cauldron contain that connection; they contain the awen that, with enough practice, is accessible to all. We have to spend time brewing our own cauldron of inspiration, filling it with both knowledge and experience before we can taste the delicious awen upon our lips. Some prefer to do this with others; some prefer to do so alone.

It is easier to quiet the noise of humanity, and of our own minds, when we are alone without distraction. Notice I said “easier” and not “easy”, because again it takes practice. But time spent alone, daily connecting and reweaving the threads that we have dropped can help us create a wonderful, rich tapestry that inspires us to continue in our journey through life, whatever may happen along the way. Though the solitary path might not be for everyone, having these moments of solitude can be a great tool for deep learning, working on your own as well as working within a group, Grove or Order. Sometimes we need to remove ourselves from the world in order to better understand it, and then come back into the fold with a new awareness and integration filled with awen, filled with inspiration.

The Hedge Druid is not afraid to be alone, nor with others, but seeks deep and utter integration in the world. Being a Hedge Druid requires determination, in seeking out the ancient and modern lore, and finding what aspects resonate within our soul. Not everything ancient is valid today, and not all modern aspects have integrity. We need to take a step back from declaring authenticity when there is doubt, and instead search for validity in our spiritual path. The Hedge Druid learns to walk her path with integrity, with solid research and experiential wisdom. She does the work, in the physical as well as the academic. Our learning is our own personal responsibility.

I hope that this blog post clears up some of the confusion of just what Hedge Druidry is, compared to other traditions within the Druidic diaspora. It is a deeply transformational way of being in the world, that appeals to those who wish to be connected to the land, the ancestors and the ancient Celtic heritage, while also at the same time work with the allies and guides of the Otherworld, or the three realms of land, sea and sky through hedge riding experiences. A Hedge Druid is deeply connected to the concept of the World Tree, the importance and significance of the bilé, to inform their world and how they work within it. And, as are all Druids, we are questing the awen: that sense of connection, of deeply integrated relationship with the land and with each other.

May we be the awen.

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July Musings

The hot summer sun beats down, and the humid air lies heavy all around. To go into the forest during the day would be to invite all the biting insects to a feast, and to sit indoor feels almost like sacrilege on these summer days. But it is so hot. The kind of heat where just moving makes you break out in a sweat. Sitting still seems to be the best thing to do. The cat knows and understands this, and so I take my cue from her wisdom of being.


Even the birds have stilled their song in the midday heat. Earlier, the cardinal sang his heart out to his love, who is always nearby. The crows still caw occasionally, but apart from that, all is still except for the long, drawn out trill of the cicadas cooling off. The mosquitoes are all hiding in the woods from the heat, and the black flies have mostly died off. It’s the heat of an August day, in the middle of July, and we have been in this heat wave for two weeks now. Everyone is tired.


Still, my love for nature calls to me. I seek out the shade, and listen and watch the life that exists all around me. It’s in my nature, and was a big part of my Druid training. Be still. Watch. Listen. Learn.


When we still the voices in our minds, those stories of the humans that are part of our lives, we are then open to receive the stories of the other than human world. Whether we are in a city or on a remote hillside overlooking a vast plain of grasses shimmering in the breeze, there are stories all around us. In the flora and fauna, we learn of the countless ecosystems, micro and macro, and how we fit into them as living beings. And hopefully how to do so with love and respect.


The cycle of the seasons is shifting, from the height of midsummer and the ectastic, dancing energy of the tide of highest light, to the slower, more thoughtful tread of the harvest. The wheat is ripening in the fields, the seeds hanging in the trees and the late summer flowers are blooming. The greening is no longer vibrant, but heavy with the responsibility of continuing the legacy of growth, death and rebirth.


What lessons can I take from this oppressive heat, this heavy time, this long outbreath after the days of midsummer? Lammas or Lughnasadh is fast approaching: the first harvest. But we are still in an in-between state; the calm before the storm. It feels like a time to rest, recoup and prepare for the heavy labour that lies ahead when we collect in our dreams of the winter and spring, and which we have brought out into the world and into the light of summer. It’s that morning cup of coffee before the kids awake, or that few minutes in the bathroom of the office where you just need to be alone and regroup. It’s a stroll along a lakefront, the heavy stormclouds gathering overhead.


And so I rest, here with my family, as best I can in the 30+ degree celsius heat. I have just under two weeks remaining to gather up my strength again and reap the harvest that I had planned and worked for all this year. The books are coming along nicely, and the fiction has been especially rewarding. Finalsing that text in August and September will be a joy, and in readiness possibly for a Samhain release.


The breeze blows softly through the leaves of the oak tree my grandfather planted in the backyard. Now huge, its overhang shades the house from the relentless southerly sunshine, as well as standing as a proud reminder of our heritage and our life here in this part of Canada. Many other trees that I grew up with have long since gone, having lived out their life span or destroyed by storms or harsh winters. But the tall oak tree still stands, its large green leaves and developing acorns towering over this end of the village, and looking out towards the great expanse of the valley that is hidden from us humans by a large cedar hedge. This oak tree is part of both worlds: that of the human family that has lived under its boughs for over 50 years, and also that of the surrounding landscape, with the forest and valley, the hills and clouds, the rain and sunshine, sleet and snow that has blessed this landscape since it was formed.


Settling into my roots, deep like the oak tree, I can find the sustenance I need to carry me through.

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New Video: Beyond Beginner

Hiya! I have a new video up that relates to all Pagan paths, and not just Witchcraft (but needed a specific title). So, I hope you enjoy it!