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Sacrifice

(This is from an article that I wrote for The Druid Network a few years ago…)

Many people in the pagan community have differing ideas on the concept of
sacrifice. Here I can only offer my own view, to share with others. These words,
much as the notion of sacrifice, are a purely personal experience.

Let me first describe what to me is the difference between an offering and a
sacrifice. Offerings can be daily elements of the ritual of our lives; offerings
of incense, of songs to the dawn, food from each meal. Offerings are often given
in thanks; for the day, for the restoration of health to a loved one, for a
wandering pet’s return. For some, offerings are a return of what we have in
abundance, for example, a farmer returning a sheaf of wheat to the land, or some
of the autumn’s blackberry port that was made poured back beneath the bushes
from whence the fruit was obtained. Offerings are used to establish a
relationship, to give back for what we have received in turn from an honourable
existence. They nurture a relationship. So, in that context, what is sacrifice?

For me, sacrifice is something that you just don’t want to give up. It hurts.
Yet, to be able to move onto the next level, to deepen a relationship further,
instead of just nurturing it with an offering, a sacrifice must be made.
Sacrifice is giving up something that is sacred to you. It can’t be easy. It
can’t be something that has outlived its purpose. It can’t be something that you
don’t really care about, or that you have in abundance. It can’t be something
that can be replaced. It has to show dedication, devotion, commitment. It has
got to hurt.

When I speak of hurting, I don’t mean physical pain, although that too in a
way can be seen as a sacrifice. If something will forever be changed because of
it, then perhaps it can be deemed as sacrifice (a tattoo, for instance). To push
through barriers of pain can be a sacrifice of what we strive for as human
beings – comfort being one of the greatest drives. Yet there can be an emotional
pain in sacrifice as well. That the physical pain in sacrifice is our own cannot
be questioned – we should never harm another being in the name of sacrifice, or
for whatever reason. If we are to sacrifice our own personal comfort, then it
must be sufficient to move onto a new level of relationship. We may not always
be willing to sacrifice, however, we can be ready to.

Some argue that time can be sacrificed, yet I would argue that if one has
come to a relationship with the god of Time, then one will find that they have
all the time in the world to attain what they wish. Time, for me, can only be an
offering, even though it can be seen as irreplaceable. Time is not a sacrifice
when it means spending more time at the local soup kitchen and less time in
front of the television – it is merely a reprioritising of time, and what is
important.

Can money be a sacrifice? Again, this for me is more of an offering than a
sacrifice for most people. Money can be replaced, for instance. Yet, if one
gives all their money to another, is that not a sacrifice? Perhaps yes, perhaps
no. For me, money can always be made, yet I live in the luxury of not worrying
too much about where my next meal comes from. So, for me, money is an offering,
much as food and time.

So what constitutes sacrifice? In my own experience, an item (so far it has
always been an item) must be thought over for hours, even days, as to whether or
not I wish to sacrifice it. If I can find other things that I would willingly
sacrifice before it, then they are not worthy. Some might think of this train of
thought as merely masochistic. Again, it comes down to what is truly sacred to
one’s self, and what one needs to do in order to progress to the next level.

Recently, I spent all night in my tepee, knowing that I had to sacrifice
something in the morning before the ritual. I knew that I wanted to go deeper
into my druidry, and that the spirits of place and my gods required it of me. I
hummed and hawed over it, wondering if I had anything else in my pack that I
could sacrifice instead of my beloved and sacred bead bracelet. I didn’t. It was
either my eagle pendant or my bracelet. I couldn’t sacrifice my wooden beaded
necklaces, they were just too easy – I didn’t have a large enough emotional
attachment to them. The spirits of place would not accept that offering, as I
felt. It was not sufficient in order to attain the deeper relationship
that I craved. My eagle pendant, after long thought, was replaceable, though I
would miss it dearly in the months that it would take to find another one. My
bracelet, however, one of a kind with many dear memories attached, was not at
all replaceable. That would be my sacrifice.

I have also sacrificed a medicine bag, and a wedding ring. None of these
items I wanted to let go, but just knew I had to if I was to progress
along my spiritual journey. I miss them dearly, but the value in giving them up
makes up for their loss, in a sense. I have a deeper understanding about myself,
about what is important to me, and by sacrificing these things to the spirits I
feel that they know me better, know my intentions more clearly, and that we have
a stronger, deeper, newer and more committed relationship for it. To me, that is
the true nature of sacrifice.

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Reblog from SageWoman: Samhain Approaching

My latest blog for SageWoman’s online channel: http://witchesandpagans.com/SageWoman-Blogs/samhain-approaching.html

Digital art by Ado Ceric, http://www.adoceric.com/Digital7.php

Digital art by Ado Ceric, http://www.adoceric.com/Digital7.php

As I sit here, writing this, the rain taps at the window, the wind howling down the street, carrying with it the scent of winter and the first of the autumn leaves. The sky is fast moving and furious – low dark grey clouds set amidst a backdrop of pure white/grey.  The central heating has been turned on.  The apples are juicy on the trees.  The starlings are flocking together. Welcome, Autumn.

My favourite season – as you may have guessed. From bright, sunny days where the sun shows the last of its strength, to watery, wind-filled days like these, it is a season of change like no other.  Quick, altogether too quickly, it is over, at least the Fall is, when the leaves change and drop to the ground.  After that, it seems Winter is here – only allowing Autumn a brief time of grace to shine in her beauty before all is blanketed under the dreamy cold slumber of Winter.

It is third week of October – and the hectic days of summer leading to the Equinox have long passed.  I feel I can almost catch my breath – almost.  The main bulk of the harvest is done – both agriculturally and in a personal sense.  I have worked hard this year, and the rewards have been great.  There are always disappointments – from the tomatoes that didn’t do well to the vagaries of life.  But Autumn, with her beauty, captures our hearts and our minds, our attention, and causes us to stop, to listen and watch Her before She is gone.

Samhain is just around the corner.  Time to let go of that which did not come to fruition. It is also a time to carry forth and collect the seeds of our new intentions – for we cannot throw these to the winds just yet.  We release the dross of our lives into the flames of Samhain fires, and protect the seeds of new ideas and next year’s harvest within the larder of our souls.  We cannot release everything – we must hold onto something to take us into the new year, something to sow our intentions with. It could be lessons learned, ideas that did have the time to grow, or ideas that came too late in the season to be utilised to their full potential. And so carry them over we must.

I hope your harvest has been bountiful, and that what you carry over be blessed as well. May the release of Samhain and the dreamy slumber of winter nurture you. May you find beauty and strength in this, the most inspiring and beautiful of all seasons.  May the Goddess of Autumn bring you joy as she does me. x

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Rhine River

In case you’re wondering why it’s been so quiet here, it’s because I’ve been cruising down the Rhine River! See photos on my public Facebook page here:

https://www.facebook.com/joanna.vanderhoeven?ref=tn_tnmn#!/pages/Joanna-van-der-Hoeven-Autumn-Song/276081102408996?fref=ts

 

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A little taster from our show…

Here’s a little taster from our recent belly dance big charity fundraiser show that we put on the other weekend – it’s my professional dance troupe, Lilith Dreaming performing Opa Cupa, and a little solo by me. Enjoy! www.eastanglianbellydancesuperstars.co.uk

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Reblog: Awen and Despair

From my blog channel at SageWoman: http://www.witchesandpagans.com/SageWoman-Blogs/awen-and-despair.html

Sometimes being a Druid in today’s society can seem so futile, so pointless.  When people are driving their SUV’s and other gas guzzlers to the corner store, or changing the goalposts on the UK badger cull to suit the targets that they set out in an insane attempt to murder as many of the creatures as possible; when people are leaving lights on in their home or their computers on all day because they are too lazy to turn them off, when we keep using plastic bags because we’re too lazy to carry our own into a shop, when we buy cosmetics that have been tested on animals and judge homeless people on the street as ‘good for nothing’ – how on this earth can one go on? And in the name of Druidry, no less – how can we still follow the paths our hearts take us on, when everything around us seems to be crumbling under the weight of the ills of the so called “modern world”?

We may often feel like a tiny drop of water in a vast ocean of futility.  But what we do, matters, even on the most basic level.  It can be horrendously despairing when we hear news of our beloved planet being raped, and we may feel powerless to stop it.  I ask myself so often – what can I do?

Oftentimes, there isn’t an obvious answer. The rage and helplessness have nowhere to go.  It builds up inside, until we are cynical of absolutely everything.  How can we avoid this, how can we continue to walk the earth’s paths with awe and wonder when around us everything that we hold dear is being destroyed?

When this feeling hits me, and it often hits me hard, the answer is to go out. Go outside, go out in nature and find the wonder again.  News from around the world can bombard us with the negative, and we can redress the balance by finding the wonder again in the natural world.  It isn’t enough, however – we must still write to our MP’s about hare coursing, we must still sign petitions and protest when and where we can, we must still stand strong in our love for this planet and not merely let it all fall to pieces.  But the inspiration to continue can be found by taking that time out, by watching the moonrise, by listening to the owls in the growing twilight.

Awen, that beloved Welsh word so popular in Druidry, is what it is all about.  Gathering the threads of inspiration we weave into our world a better outcome, a better solution, a more harmonious approach.  We take that inspiration like a person dying of thirst drinks in a glass of water – it feeds us, nourishes us and sustains us so that we may continue.

It has often been said in Druidry that we do not submit to the gods, for to do so would be suicidal.  Just so, we should not submit to the negativity in the world, for again that only has one outcome.  We must reach for the awen in order to hear the song again, and in hearing the song to be able to sing it, and by singing it hear others as they  join in the chorus, eventually coming together with wonder and awe and beauty.  For me, there is no other way.

Though I occasionally fall into despair, I reach for the awen to help me climb back out again and face the world, head on.

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Baby steps to saving the world

A world of yes…

Nimue Brown's avatarDruid Life

With the latest reports on climate change making it clear that we are in trouble and it is the fault of our species, there’s a lot of misery and powerlessness floating about online. Other People aren’t going to listen. Other People won’t act. Governments won’t do anything and too many Other People don’t care, or disbelieve or refuse to live differently. You know who the Other People are – they’re the ones with the real power, whose actions make a genuine difference.

What this does, between the gloom and doom and the idea that only someone else can fix it, is keep us in that most dangerous of mind sets: Keeping calm and carrying on. That is suicide.
So let’s take a case in point. Disposable plastic shopping bags are not necessary, we know this because for most of history, people managed perfectly well without them. That’s a huge resource…

View original post 431 more words

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Why should the Gods care?

Do the Gods care?  I’m not so sure.

In my own experience, I know that the wild gods especially, those of heath and forest, of the seas and wind, of storm and sunshine, do not care about what happens to humanity.  They simply follow their nature, their path.  In my perception, the universe does not care.  I remember in Pirates of the Caribbean, when the goddess of the sea, Calypso, was asked why she had a change of heart about a man that she once loved, simply stated in that slow, West Indes drawl: “It is my nature”.  They may interact with us, but do they have our best interests at heart? Some may, but some may not.  Some may not even acknowledge us – the hurricane passes through despite our pleas, following its own song of wind and water, doing what is in its nature to do.  The sun shines down relentlessly on the crops, burning the fields or ripening the wheat dependent upon other weather conditions during the season.  Our best interests are not on their agenda.

And why should they be?  It is the human fallacy, that mindset of us being the centre of the universe?  Why should we be the recipients of all that we perceive to be good in the world, and why do we rail against the perceived tragedy? Yes, an earthquake is devastating, and can kill thousands of people, causing pain and anguish among humanity, and all other creatures that suffer from its effects.  But the earthquake is not at fault (pardon the pun) – that is the nature of the earthquake.  It will not seek out a place where it can cause the least destruction, nor vice versa – it happens where it needs to happen, where the elements dictate it should be, where the song takes it.  It does not consider the repercussions it will have on anything.

These wild gods are of a totally different consciousness to us, and it can be damned hard to relate to. That is why we often anthropomorphise them, in order to be able to relate.  It is easier to talk to a god of thunder, who struts around wielding a great hammer against giants than it is to talk to a thundercloud, or the lightning.  These gods, who we have given human form – do they care for us?

By giving them some sort of humanity, we automatically assume that they should. After all, they look like us, talk like us, have adventures that we can relate to.  We have created these wonderful stories about them.  We care for them, we devote ourselves to them – should they not do the same?

This can often be the falling down point in relationships with the gods for many people.  I have known people who have abandoned the gods, because they have lost loved ones, or had other trauma in their lives that the gods did not intercede in.  My question would be – why should they intercede?  At the moment, I have a very ill cat, who is not responding to medication.  I have prayed to Bridget for healing strength to help her get over the illness, and to give us all strength and knowledge of the illness so that we may better cope with it.  So far the results of the prayers have not been successful – should I therefore abandon all relationship with Bridget? It I did, then I would be assuming that the gods are “on call” for us, for our whims and demands and pleas for help.

They are not.

I have relationships with several gods, to help me understand them, and the ways of the world a little better, but I know that I am not special; that should I receive healing energy from Bridget it would not be because she is granting me a favour, or a gift.  What I hope to achieve through my relationship with her is a better understanding of the bigger picture in life, beyond my own mortal limitations in order to better my own situation.

I don’t think Bridget really cares whether or not my cat lives or dies.  She may, however, help me to understand the illness better, to help me find the inspiration and strength to continue through my relationship with her. Sometimes just talking to someone about it helps, even if you cannot see them.  Like the Catholic confession, simply talking to someone can sometimes clarify things in your own mind.  The priest taking the confession will give advice, tell you how many Hail Marys or acts of contrition you must do to absolve you of the sin that you committed – but the priest does not care, per se – they are simply acting on behalf of what they believe their god would like their followers to do.

Does this leave me feeling a bit lonely, a bit unwanted and left out because my gods do not care about me?  Not really.  My gods teach me how to cope with the world – Nemetona teaches me about sanctuary and sacred space, where I can in myself learn about finding those places where I can be free. She does not grant them to me, but shows me how to find them through her and through my own practice.  Similarly, Frigge does not care for me in any motherly or matronly sort of way, nor Freya – what they do is provide me with inspiration to keep my household in good order, or to talk through relationship issues.  They are not Dial-A-Gods with whom to pray to for help with this or that; through our ongoing relationship with them we begin to see how we can find the awen in their stories and weave that into our own lives.

Sometimes it may feel like our pleas are heard – that someone receives a miraculous recovery, or the tidal wave does not reach the shore. However, I would posit that this has nothing to do with us personally.  The infection may go away because of the mindset and resulting physiological effects this has on a person who knows that others are praying for them, or who have made them a special amulet.  Does this have anything to do with directed energy from the gods themselves? I’m not so sure – I think it has more to do with the inspiration these gods have given humanity to fix it, or try to fix it, themselves.  I could, of course, be totally wrong.

The fact that the gods don’t care does not affect my relationship with them. The tree at the bottom of my garden does not care whether I live or die, neither do the horses in the field, the frogs in the pond, the throngs of humanity who have no knowledge that I even exist.  Does this mean that I should not love them? I don’t think so.

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So, here’s a little taster of what I’ve been up to lately – we had our big charity belly dance show this weekend, and these are my two favourite dances from our troupe, Gypsy Dreams Belly Dance…

 

Lilith Dreaming, Opa Cupa, East Anglian Belly Dance Superstars 2013

Naia (Jo’s) solo for East Anglian Belly Dance Superstars 2013

 

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Right Livelihood

autumn leavesDuring the time around the autumn equinox, in my particular path of blending Zen and Druidry I focus on the Buddhist aspects of Right Livelihood within a Druid context.  I do this throughout the year, blending the Buddhist Eightfold Path into the eight seasons of modern Paganism, and have found it spiritually inspiring and enlightening. (For further reading into Zen Druidry, please see my latest book, Zen Druidry, available on Amazon and through Moon Books).

Right Livelihood, in essence, means taking on a way of living and working that does not compromise the other principles within the eightfold path, or indeed any of the Dharma Principles. However, it is much more than ensuring that your occupation is not harmful to others – for me, this accords to everything I do, my entire life.  My livelihood is not just my office job, or my dance company, my writing or my work as a Druid priest. My livelihood is the way in which I live my life – my whole Druidry as a way of living, not just as a practice.

I have ensured that the traditional view of Right Livelihood is upheld in my life – all my jobs do not create harm in others, abuse others or the environment inasmuch as is humanly possible.  Yes, three out of my four jobs require that I drive a car, and that is a compromise that I have to make, which I try to offset in other areas of my life.  I used to work as a legal secretary, but was slowly having my soul destroyed by helping the rich dodge inheritance taxes.  It took the universe to give me a great kick up the bum to get out of that job and dive into something more meaningful for my own self – other similar legal jobs may work for some people, it just wasn’t in accordance with Right Livelihood for me personally.  I quit, went back to university and got a job straight away working for a music company and charity, got writing again, started a dance company and began in my priest work.  I felt much more at ease with myself, knowing that I was partaking in Right Livelihood (or Livelihoods!).

Some of us may feel trapped in jobs that we do not like, but we need the money to support our families, or ourselves.  However, that doesn’t mean that we cannot be on the lookout for something that would sit better within our hearts and souls, and it also doesn’t mean that we can’t offshoot this, say perhaps by doing some volunteer work, donating to charity, etc.  I personally don’t have much spare time, but the time that I do have I try to use wisely – though this year I haven’t succeeded as well as I may have, having run myself a little too ragged.  Organising charity events, performing wedding ceremonies, on top of my other jobs left too little time for me and my husband, and in that regard I failed at Right Livelihood, as there was harm and neglect on that front.  I have worked too hard, and now physically and emotionally see the repercussions. Now, in the autumn of the year, when I can see the results of what I have sown in the springtime of the year, I can also reflect on how to do better next year.

Right Livelihood means living right – it’s not just your job.  For me, within Druidry, it means establishing a life that has as little impact ecologically as is possible at the time for me and my family.  It means investing our savings in solar panels, recycling and composting everything, using cruelty and chemical-free toiletries, working towards creating peace and inspiring others.  It means walking the walk instead of just talking the talk.  It’s bloody hard to do. It means being aware of everything around you, of the impact that you have on the world, from the interaction I have with my co-workers to how many kilowatt hours our household has consumed in the last year.  It means sacrificing ignorance for knowledge, and the practical application of such.

Druidry teaches us about creating honourable relationships with the world around us, with all things if you are an animist like myself. Seeing the inherent value in all things means that no single thing can be taken for granted.  Incorporating Zen means bringing awareness of my own self and how my brain works, as well as working on an awareness of the world at large by living as mindfully as is possible.  Sometimes I am hugely successful at both – other times I fail spectacularly.  At any rate, it’s a learning curve.

Throughout the darkening days until Samhain, my focus on Right Livelihood is a constant reminder to live well.  Taking inspiration from nature, I learn not to take more than is necessary, or at least I am inspired not to – succeeding in this regard is damned hard in a fairly affluent Western society.  I breathe into the growing twilight, the longer nights and learn how to simply be in the world, leaving behind barriers of separation as much as I can, within myself and nature, humanity and the universe.  The rich scents of autumn tingle in my nose, the decaying leaf mould and woodsmoke, the chill winds and starry skies above inspiring me to continue. It is  Inspiring me to create a life that is worthwhile, and in doing so, following a path of Right Livelihood.