death

by

Visiting Sun Rising Natural Burial Ground

The car park was empty as we pulled in, closing the gate behind us. The weather all weekend had been typically variable, with bright sunshine and threatening clouds scattered across the horizon. We went to the office to see if anyone was there, and found it empty and closed. The wind carried the scent of rain and wet newly mown hay.

We made our way to the main path that lead to the roundhouse, which stood beautiful and serene, blending in with the landscape, made as it was of natural materials and covered in climbing roses that offered a delicious, soft scent in the late afternoon breeze. Around the structure were graves that were covered in wildflowers, with trees planted on the right-hand section where, in time, a little wooded area would grow. The view was simply breath-taking, allowing the eye to roam for miles across the gently rolling countryside, settling on the far hills in the distance with the songs of life and death and the continuous cycle carried between them in their undulating energy.

The calm energy and serenity of the place filled the soul with such exquisite delight, showing that in death there is beauty, as in life. The living and the dead, in the constant process of change, of transition, their songs blending in with one another, were held in each other’s embrace Clearly this is place where ancestors are honoured, not only those who lie newly buried in its soil, but also those who worked the land for thousands of years before, and those ancestors of tradition who uphold the sacredness of their duties to the land, their gods and the ancestors.

There was a war memorial off to one side, and at the bottom of the first field a newly built pond, which was filling up nicely, long grasses waving in the wind and the late afternoon sunlight sparkling upon the water’s surface. The bees in the apiary were hard at work not far away, providing honey for their young and also a small income through the excess for the burial ground itself.

We said our prayers for the dead and for the living, held within that sacred space and honouring all that there is with all that we were. It was so heartening, so inspiring to see what a few dedicated people could do, in a life utterly devoted to their principles and their gods, the ancestors and the world in which they live. It was simplicity and truth, shaped in the landscape that holds those in their new transformation, their new reality within the rich soil of this land, and inspiring those who still walk upon it. It was pure awen.

Read SunRising’s blog HERE

Visit SunRising’s website HERE

 

Dealing with depression and despair…
by

Dealing with depression and despair…

Being kind isn’t all that hard. Being jolly and upbeat all the time is – and is a denial of our emotions and bodily responses to certain situations.

 
I woke up yesterday in a bad mood – which has spilled over into today. The reasons for it are numerous: tiredness, frustration, a lack of compassion in the world amongst others. The Zen thing to do would be to be present in the moment, for in this moment there is all that we need. There is nothing but this moment. Feelings of despair arise when we separate ourselves from the moment, and think about the past or the future, dwelling on certain aspects and perhaps not seeing the bigger picture (or perhaps even seeing the bigger picture, which can cause us to despair even more).

 
Yes – I am quite comfortable in this present moment as I write this. I am not being shot at. I am not in fear for my life. My loved ones are safe. I have a cup of tea, and enough food to eat. My body is clean, my clothes warm. Compared to many, what on earth am I doing feeling despondent?

 
Humanity’s blessing, and curse, is the ability to see the bigger picture. This can lead to glorious ideas about the direction we should take; it can also lead to despair when we take into consideration the negative aspects of our lives on this planet. Focusing on just the positive isn’t balanced – neither is focusing on the negative. As a Druid, I am constantly seeking balance and harmony, to find my place in the world and to serve this world in the best capacity that I can, being true to my nature and honourable in my deeds.

 
I sometimes fail at this. I sometimes succeed. In this, there is balance. Of course, I aim to look at things from a balanced perspective, but on the whole we are conditioned throughout our lives to try and look at things positively. However, when looking at things negatively, we need to remember that negative does not equal apathy. If there is something we do not like, we can seek a way to change it. It’s in our hands.

 
This is not denying the negative. It is living a life with intention. Creating peace is damned hard work. It requires a person to see all sides of a story and work with the ideals of compassion and empathy. If we only acknowledged the positive things in our lives, our compassion and empathy would be seriously diminished.

 
I sometimes find myself thinking that Buddhist monks have got it pretty easy, secluded away in their monasteries, not engaging with the real world. Some do. However, I remind myself that other monks have engaged with the world in ways that I probably will never be able to – think Thich Nhat Hanh helping to rebuild villages during the Vietnam War, not taking sides with anyone and simply helping people as best he could. I’m sure at some points he too despaired, seeing children dying, homes destroyed and his country torn apart. My despair pales in comparison to this.

 
This is not to say that I should not acknowledge my own despair, however. If I did, if I pushed it to one side to focus on the positive, I’m sure that it would return to bite me on the ass at the most inopportune moment. We don’t have to give in to feelings of despair, but neither should we push them aside. We normally don’t push feelings of joy aside – we like to experience these. All feelings should be felt – and then we can move on.

 
So, tired after dance rehearsals and depressed by the amount of litter that I see along the roadsides that I will have to clear (again), apprehensive about coming engagements and a workload that was supposed to be lighter this year being heavier than ever, I am feeling my despair, my depression. I am allowing it to move through me, so that I can come out the other side having had the experience, which will hopefully transform into some sort of wisdom.

 
This despair will be self-contained – I will not be taking it out on others. I will try not to snap at people even though my emotions and reactions feel more “on edge” than normal. You can despair at the world and still be kind. You can reach out a hand to friends or family if you need to. You can write about it in a blog.

 
Above all, you are allowed to feel it, in your bones and in your soul.

by

Go slowly in the Springtime…

This morning I accidentally ran over a small, young rabbit.

Living where I do, accidents such as these are unavoidable at times. Springtime is the worst time, as youngsters are making their way further and further from their homes, unaware of the dangers of the road. Baby birds that are not yet fully proficient in flying, young badgers and even deer that haven’t seen a car in their life. I carry special gloves in my car to take those I find left on the road and bring them to a more respectful distance, to be taken by the ants and foxes, the crows and other creatures. I’ve picked up all manner of roadkill from other people where they have just left it – even putting my back out once dragging a dead deer stag from the middle of the road where it endangered drivers coming around a blind bend. How people could just leave animals that they have hit is beyond me. I’ve had to call the police to inform them of deer that had been hit on the highway and that was still alive, blocking a lane, thereby getting police and environment officials there to kill the deer humanely as quickly as possible, and see that no one else gets hurt. It infuriated me that no one else bothered to take responsibility – no one else had made that call before me.

It doesn’t make it any easier, no matter how much death you see. Picking up the warm, soft furry body, its entrails in my other hand I carried it to the side of the road and placed it gently beneath the hedgerow. I was struck for a moment at how some Druids of old, such as the famed Boudicca would have read the entrails of a sacrificed hare to foretell battle outcomes, if classical sources are correct. I thought about how gentle my Druidry is compared to that, and how I would not change it for the world. As I lay its body on the ground, the green grass and nettles growing up towards the sun, all I could think was “I’m so sorry”. I asked that the gods be kind, and that they may forgive as this little one goes back to the earth from whence it came. A crow directly overhead cawed as I finished my prayer.

I know it may seem odd, asking pagan gods for forgiveness – many would say that attitude is for another religion. However, at that moment it felt utterly right – it was the first step towards making amends for the taking of a life. It acknowledged responsibility as well as regret. Whether the gods accepted it or not I do not know – the crow cawed just at that moment, but he may have just been greeting his mates, or laughing at me, or genuinely speaking for the spirits of that area.

Accepting responsibility for the taking of a life is a concept that was well known to the Celtic ancestors in this country. Whether accidentally or not, reparation must be made and responsibility claimed for one’s own actions. Stopping and taking the little body to a better resting spot was just the first step towards reparation. Asking forgiveness and expressing sorrow and regret was the second. Making a donation to the Hare Trust upon reaching work the third, and tonight in a small ritual an offering will be made to the spirits of place for peace. None of this will bring that little life back. However, it is a constant reminder of my place in the cycle of life, in the grand web of all our lives, how we are all connected, and how each of us is responsible for our actions.

Why all this effort just for a rabbit, some may wonder? To me, all life is sacred – it is why I am a Druid and a vegan. Ideas of reciprocity and responsibility are at the forefront of my worldview. I take what I have learned from our Celtic ancestors and apply the wisdom found in their teachings into modern life. Ancient Celts may not have felt so sorrowful at killing a bunny – but I’m not an ancient Celt. I don’t eat the meat, I cannot make use of the body, and so it seems dishonourable not to do something to make amends for the taking of its life. I live in a different world to the ancient Celts, and thereby must apply their wisdom into my modern worldview in the best way that I can to ensure that my life is lived fully, aware and awake and with honour.

Driving home, I shall drive even slower than I usually do, no matter what the cars behind me think. I am a part of my environment, a part of a very special ecosystem and I will do all that I can to preserve it, to cherish it and to honour it with all that I am. For me, there is no other way.

by

Death, Reincarnation and Impermanence

I haven’t sung for a while now. Sometimes when you’re sad or grieving, your body and soul just don’t want to sing.

Thankfully, I have friends and family who have been wonderful, who make me laugh and cry with tears of laughter alongside my tears of unhappiness. Both forms of tears are equally valid, and equally necessary during the time that you grieve.

Having spent the last few weeks thinking about death, I felt that I could now share some ideas with you that I have had about it.  I have been terribly upset at the loss of a very good friend, whom I will never see again.  There is a hole in my life where she used to be, and I still find myself looking for her after all these weeks. Good friends are deeply treasured, and a true blessing.

Meditating upon the nature of death, I have come to the same realisation that Alanis Morrissette came to in her song, “Thank You”.  At one point in the lyrics she states “How about not equating death with stopping”.  I have taken comfort in these words over the last few decades, but never really considered them deeply within my own soul – they were a kind hand on my shoulder from someone who empathises. Now I see the totality of the statement, with a little insight from the Buddhist notion of impermanence and the Druid views of both awen and animism.

The Buddhist view of life is that everything is impermanent, therefore we should try to not cling to anything, even our sense of self, with too much energy. Looking closer at this idea, we see that we are constantly changing, in our ideas, our opinions, our way of life, and we are not the same person we were, say 10 years ago. On a more physical level, we are also constantly changing, sloughing off old skin, our hair growing, our bodies changing shape as we grow older.  Clinging to one thing leads to suffering – if we simply accept that change is a part of life then our suffering will be reduced.

Meditating up on this over the last week, some core truths have sprung up for me that have helped with my suffering.

We are all made up of energy, energy that is in constant motion.  This energy did not spring out into being – you cannot get something from nothing.  This energy is in constant change and flux, according to the environment and circumstances it finds itself in.  Therefore, a Zen koan suddenly made sense to me: “What was the face you wore, before you were born?”

I realised that had never been born.  When we think of being born, we think of suddenly coming into being, but we have already been existing since the dawn of time. It is only our form that has changed with the millennia.  Can we really pinpoint the time we were born, or created? Is creation when egg meets sperm? I am contained in the blood of my father’s fathers and my mother’s mothers as well – can there be a cut-off point? I am the genetic result of thousands of ancestors – where do they end and I begin?  Thinking more laterally as well, I am made up of some of the minerals found in stars and galaxies far away. My blood contains water that I have drunk from all over the world in my lifetime. In this water is life and death of legion of beings. Where do I begin?

In Druidry, many Druids are also animists, believing in the inherent value of all things, whatever their form.  Nothing is more valid or worth more than another thing – they are simply existing in various forms that we perceive throughout our lifetime.  This worldview incorporates the smallest atom to the largest mountain.

If I cannot pinpoint the time when I began to exist, then there cannot be a point in time when I die.  I shall simply change form, the energy running on different currents and in different patterns. Thinking about my friend, I was blessed to know her in her most recent physical form for years, which was always changing anyway.  She has not died, per se – energy cannot simply cease to be.  We often think of death as annihilation. It cannot be so – energy moves but cannot be destroyed.  And so, her current form is undergoing a different process of change. The accepted concept of birth may find its opposite in death, but the term life has no opposite.

What happens to our souls when we die, if we believe in souls, is still the great mystery. But what I’ve come to realise is that at the very least, we can take inspiration from the physical and perhaps also apply that to the idea of the soul as well.  The physical form has now been returned to the earth, decomposing through the process of bacteria and other creatures that are working to change the physical form.  But the energy is still there, being changed into millions of different forms in the circumstance.  Flesh is being eaten by worms and turned into rich soil. That rich soil will feed the plants atop her grave. Those plants will release oxygen into the atmosphere. That oxygen will be breathed by all manner of creatures, or even combine with hydrogen to form water. So, my friend is there, in her grave, but she is also in the plants, in the air, in the clouds, in the water, and inside me.  Her physical form has changed, but it was always changing anyway. Impermanence.

Once I gained this insight, my suffering was eased somewhat.  Not only for the loss of her in my life, but also my own fears of death.  There is no such thing as stopping. Death is not annihilation. It is simply a process, like birth is, into a different and ever-changing physical form. Whether the soul follows some parts in this process is up for question – I like to think so.

Perhaps this is what reincarnation is all about.  The nature of change, the nature of being. Perhaps I have simply been looking at reincarnation too literally.  Reincarnation is simply the new physical form something takes when the circumstances are favourable to its existence. Myself included.

My friend is still here, for she can never go away.  All that has ever been is still here, in some form or another.  We can take comfort in that and ease our own suffering. We can take inspiration from that and live our lives in accordance with it, allowing us to not just to go with the flow, but to be the flow itself, whether that is of the river, the wind, our bloodlines, the Tao or the awen itself.

Thank you, dear friend, for the inspiration and the teaching.  You have taught me so much over the years, and I look forward to still many lessons to come.

Reposted from my blog at SageWoman: http://www.witchesandpagans.com/SageWoman-Blogs/death-impermanence-and-reincarnation.html

by

Reblog: November Skies

Here is a link to my latest blog for SageWoman at WitchesandPagans…

Nov skyThere’s just something about a November sky.

For many, November can be a month of hard coping, with the clocks changing, the nights drawing in, the colder air and wetter weather.  Yet we often miss the beauty of this month, lost in our own solipsism.  Looking around us, we see that there is so much more than our own worlds, than our own lives. As Bjork said, “nature is ancient and surprises us all”…

To read more, please go to http://witchesandpagans.com/SageWoman-Blogs/november-skies.html

by

Reblog from SageWoman: Samhain and the Ancestors

samhain

digital artwork by Pumpkin Photography, available on devianart

Reblog from my post over at SageWoman’s blog channel – Samhain blessings to you all!

What with the rage of the storm St Jude passing over our area on Monday morning, we were without power for a couple of days (as well as being without land line phones -mobile masts were also out).  At this time of year, when the clocks have gone back and the nights are drawing in, the change can be quite dramatic, especially when you are living without power.

The weather had turned cold in the evenings, but luckily we have a fireplace, so the evenings were spent gathered around the hearth, with the darkness all around just outside the circle of candle and firelight, and the wind howling outside. Pretty much confined to one room in the light and warmth, we took the time to simply be – to sit together and watch the flames dancing in the darkness.

Preparations had to be made before the light began to fail.  Food was prepared in the daylight, and the candles and fire readied for when darkness fell.  There’s nothing worse than being caught out in pitch blackness, looking for a match or a torch and stumbling in the darkness.  Time was very much in the forefront of my mind – I had to make sure things were ready.  The days and nights seemed to stretch in length, without the distraction of any media to divert our attention away from the inky blackness outside our windows.

Outside, when it was safe enough to go out, we looked up and saw even more stars than we can usually see.  Living as we do in a rural area near the coast of the North Sea, we have a pretty amazing night sky as it is, without very much light pollution. These last few nights were something really special. We also noticed just how many planes were in the sky as well – an alarming number, all things considered.

At this time of year, the ancestors are often in my thoughts – in Druidry, we have the ancestors of blood, of place and of tradition to work with.  I felt even more connected to the ancestors of the past, without any electricity, filling my days with manual work and enjoying relaxing by the fire in the evenings.  My blood ancestors hummed in my veins as I watched the flames in the fireplace, seeing lines stretching off into the darkness of the past and stretching to include hundreds, thousands of people who have gone before.  The ancestors of place were all around me, and the very real notion that the living are walking, working, living and loving on the bodies on the dead was very real to me.  The bodies of all flora and fauna who have gone before provided this very land upon which we live, and at this time of year when it appears that everything is slowly dying to the coming winter, it really hit home.  Every morning I was also reminded of the life amidst the world of the dead, as the stags were calling to their does, and the rutting season beginning here upon the heathland.  The ancestors of tradition opened up my mind to all that was occurring around me, allowing me to see and experience the mysteries firsthand. I wondered what the future ancestors would experience from our legacy.

When our power did finally come back on, in the early hours of the morning a few days later, I physically felt it.  Fast asleep, I awoke in the darkness that was not quite so dark, wondering why I had just sat up in bed. I felt a buzzing in my body, as if everything around me was humming. Looking out the window, I saw that our neighbours across the street had their outside light come on, and that the darkness was not so thick, both inside and out.  I could feel the electricity come back on.  The heating then came on, and I listened to the sounds of the furnace firing up, and the house creaking under the sudden change in temperature. I was a bit saddened by the return of electricity – it meant that deadlines were now due, that work awaited me when all I wanted to do was retreat into hibernation mode.  It meant that we would have to make a special effort not to sink back into the luxury that is electricity, and to not take it for granted. (I was, however, very much looking forward to a hot bath in the morning).

I welcome the darkness, with the rest after a long and busy summer that it brings.  I look forward to the shortening days until the winter solstice, when the evenings stretch into hours of sacred time and sacred space. I will fill these hours with meditation, with ritual, with remembrance, instead of ignoring the darkness with the buzzing of electricity and the drone of the media.  I will remember our days spent closer to the ancestors, and will welcome the connection to them in the growing darkness.

http://www.witchesandpagans.com/SageWoman-Blogs/samhain-and-the-ancestors.html

by

Samhain Musings…

Samhain, the time when the veils between the worlds are thin… I’ve been wondering about this term of phrase lately.  Why, on certain dates of the year, should the veil be thinner than at other times? Is there even such a thing as a veil between the worlds?

More and more I lean towards the negative – that there is indeed no veil, that the dead and the living walk side by side.  That there is no Otherworld, that the Otherworld and this world are all the same – it’s only our perception of it that makes it “other”.  We like to separate things, we human beings, to classify and put them in a place where we can understand them from a stand-offish perspective.  I would posit that, looking at nature, nothing is that simple, or can be tied so neatly to an idea.

Taking inspiration from the natural world around us, we see the living and the dead working together all of the time, whether it is autumn, winter, spring or summer.  Things are dying around us constantly – there is no specific season for it. Animals die, plants die, cells die – it does not wait for autumn. I admit, in the Fall we see the foliage around us withdrawing into itself, the leaves falling, the grasses returning to their roots, energy moving in different directions, from out into the sunlight to deep within the earth. This is not a death, however it may appear – simply a reversal of direction.

Like the double helix, energy is always moving, and never in one direction only. When everything appears to be dying here in the Northern Hemisphere, it is beginning to come to life in the Southern Hemisphere. The tides and times of life follow no one set of rules.

I may die in the autumn, I may die in the spring. Whenever I do die, my body will in turn nourish the soil, plants, fungi, animals and legion of other living beings on this planet in that great symbiosis of simply being. It does not rely on a season.  I do not cease to be, either. I simply cease to be in some form or other – my body will take on a new form. My soul – I believe that too will take on a new form, if nature has taught me anything.

In our agricultural year and society here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are at the end of our harvest season, and in that time we are able to take a break as the final crops have come in.  But we are still making our preparations for winter. Is there really a time to rest, to relax, before the snows come?  For some animals this is the busiest season, the squirrels squirreling away their stores, for example.  I’m sure our ancestors would have been busy all throughout the year, just trying to stay alive.

I’ve often thought of autumn as a time of rest, of rejuvenation.  I see now that perhaps “rest” wasn’t quite right.  Autumn is more a time of reflection, of going through what we have learned through the year, and through all the years of our lives.  It is a time to not stop, per se, but to take stock.

Along the way, our ancestors, who are with us always, can help us, guide us throughout our lives.  Having a special time of year set aside to acknowledge them is a good thing, but I would posit that we should honour where we have come from, our stories and our heritage, all that brought us to this point in time each and every day.  It is not a one-off thing. Like the holiday of Thanksgiving, I really enjoy and appreciate the sentiment, but carry that same sentiment with me throughout the year.

All that being said, this IS my favourite time of the year. I love the colours, the smells, the feeling in the air of the approaching winter, the stories of summer lingering upon our lips in reflection and contemplation.

Side by side with the ancestors, I honour the season, the tides and times of life, death, and rebirth.

by

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

by

Fear of Ageing

Having recently just turned 39, my thoughts lately have been turning to our society’s views on ageing.  Ageing is something that we must fight, if you listen to all the women’s toiletries marketing ploys.  Combat ageing, they say, with their Miracle Defense Cure (incidentally, I did a search on how many products contain the word “defense” in their name for creams, lotions and potions, and it was staggering…) and you will be young forever, for young is beautiful.

Now, I don’t know about you, and can’t speak for the masses, but I don’t want to look like a twelve year old girl.  Most models in fashion magazines are under 16 years of age.  They wouldn’t even be able to afford the clothes that they are modelling for the older, more affluent women who buy said magazines.  Billboards and television advertisements show us young women all the time, for everything from cosmetics to kitchens.  We have ingrained in our minds that young is beautiful, and have it reinforced each and every day.

I have recently heard that young women are also shaving themselves completely, removing all pubic hair. Why, I have absolutely no idea, but this only reiterates our new obsession with youth – they may state for hygienic or fashion purposes, but the fact of the matter remains – they still will end up looking like pre-pubescent girls.  Not terribly sexy, in my opinion.

Why do we have such a fear of ageing? Why do we consider youth to be so beautiful, at least for the human race?  Many humans see beauty in older things, such as a 500 year old tree, or a 1,000 year old cathedral. Here in the UK, the ideal home in the country would be something reminiscent of a house built in the 1600 – 1800’s.  Old, at least for some things, is aesthetically pleasing. Why not for the human body as well?

We do not venerate the old in our society; it is not an achievement anymore to reach old age, what with the wonders of modern medicine.  Old people are a burden to those still earning money, getting in the way until they are put in homes.  We do not look after our elderly anymore, but pay others to do it for us.  Out of sight, out of mind.  We fear ageing, we do not want to have to deal with it.  It’s a sickening, maddening cycle, for we will all age. It’s the one thing that we cannot avoid at any cost.  The diet industry might lose us as customers once we’ve lost the desired weight, but there’s no stopping the ageing process, and manufacturers know this, licking their lips in anticipation of our progress down the linear track of time.

Ageing for a man is still, as far as I can observe, less of a fear than for a woman.  Men with grey hair are sexy. Women with grey hair are not.  Distinguished, people say of men with grey hair.  What of women?  Personally, I cannot wait to have grey hair, or white even – I love the colour.  But society disagrees with me, and sells us harmful chemicals to put on our heads to cover up those grey hairs.  As women live longer than men, on the whole, why do they fear ageing even more?

The loss of youth equals the loss of beauty.  We need to change our perception of that in order to alleviate our fears.  It’s a silly fear in the first place, as nothing we can do will prevent it from happening.  And yet, women all over the world go under the knife to have surgery, or injections, or pay exorbitant amounts of money on products that don’t really do anything.  Why, for the love of the goddess, why?

Fear is such a grand motivator in all things.  We must embrace our fear, as we must embrace our ageing.  What is it that we fear about ageing? For some, it might be the fear of being cast aside, of not being a “productive” member of society – what will I do in retirement? For others, it means coming to terms with their own mortality.  I know that after meditating on this for some time, my personal fear is the loss of beauty – until I realised that beauty does not come with an age limit.  I look around me and find inspiration in all things beautiful and realise just how limiting it is to think of beauty in terms of age.  Step outside the human mindset and watch your world expand.

Watching my face and body change is now no longer depressing – it’s interesting, and a little exciting.  My curves are softer, my breasts larger.  I have cellulite on my thighs.  I have wrinkles on my cleavage.  Little lines around my eyes.  My hands show the hours of work that I have put them to.  My days of sunshine and laughter shown in freckles and wrinkles.  Tattoos mark life transitions, and will look amazing no matter what age I get, as they will change with my body.  Scars show life’s trials and tribulations. All these are a part of my self, and denying these, hating these, is hating myself. What a bloody waste of time.

If society tells me that I should fear ageing, I shall stick up two fingers to it and tell them to bugger off.  I’m more afraid of war, nuclear waste, fracking and the poor badgers who are being culled than I am of ageing.  I no longer fear ageing full stop. To hell with their distractions – there are so much more important things to be doing that standing in front of a mirror looking at a wrinkle or two.

I adored my youth, and have many, many fond memories of it.  Growing up in a beautiful part of the world, loving a beautiful boy for the first time, learning to play music and sing, to roam and find personal freedom.  I am also adoring my “middle years”, whatever that may mean.  Each and every day is precious, and so I will be thankful for them.  There is no battle to be fought, there is no war to be won on ageing.  Time is time, and cares not whether you try out your best wrinkle defense cream.  Be like time, and care not about that which you cannot alter. Don’t go with the flow, but be the flow itself.  Live, love and be happy, free of the fear that society tells you that you should have.  Stand tall and proud, grey hairs and saggy breasted, and know that you are goddess, that you are beautiful, if you only allow yourself to be.

by

Ancestors

I’ve been thinking a lot about the ancestors lately.  When people think of the ancestors, the first thing that comes to mind is blood relatives from the past.  In Druidry, we honour our blood ancestors, but also those ancestors of tradition (those who have shared our worldviews) and of place (those who are a part of our land).  Yet it is not ancestors of the past that currently occupy my thoughts – it is ancestors of the future, those yet to come, that are my main guiding force in life.

I am childless by choice.  I will not have direct descendants, though I share my genetic makeup with the rest of my family, my nephews, cousins and more, which will be passed down through blood.  However, I will become a future ancestors of tradition as well as having future ancestors of tradition, and the same can be said for being and having future ancestors of place.  It is mostly to these ancestors yet to come, my future ancestors of all three groups, that direct the way in which I live my life.

Our ancestors of the past have helped to shape us, to make us what we are, though we are our own person and always have our own choices to make in life.  We can repeat past mistakes or we can change – it is up to us.  Our ancestors of the future do not have the luxury of choice – they are stuck with whatever it is that we provide them.  With the world being in such a mess, alongside the moments of pure beauty, I worry about what I will leave for them.

Emma Restall Orr states on her website that she endeavours to live a life of which her ancestors would be proud.  That is a beautiful and motivating sentiment – and is especially poignant for our future ancestors.  We have the option of learning from our previous ancestors to make this world a better place, in however big or small a way, for our future ancestors.  Apathy has no place in my worldview – everything we do matters.

I have made mistakes in my past. I have had glorious achievements.  I can acknowledge all of these, and today be the best person I can be, for the sake of my future ancestors of blood, tradition and place.  There is no time to wallow in guilt, or to rest on my laurels – every single deed, every single action right now will have an effect on the future.  The past is there to teach us, the future is there to direct us, and the present moment exists to capture all that we can be in this moment in time.

Heathenry, or the Northern Tradition in paganism, has a beautiful saying – “We are our deeds”.  We must live up to it.  The past is gone, the future ungraspable – so make this very moment count.  Live honourably, with awareness.  To my future ancestors, know that you are honoured.