At Druid College UK we are seeking people to help us create and sustain a scholarship programme, to enable those who wish to enroll but lack the funds to do so. At the moment we offer a discounted price for those on a low-income budget, but we only have a few places on the course where we are able to do this every year. With a scholarship programme, we would be able to extend this offer to many more people from all over the community who are seeking learning on their spiritual path. Many of our students are also international students, and the travel expenses on top of the tuition fees can be a real challenge. So, if you can help us out by donating towards our scholarship programme, that would be greatly appreciated!
I attended a lovely make-up and photography workshop run by Leanne of Mystic Belly Dance earlier this month, and when it came time to be photographed, my friend Michelle and I decided to try out a Fairy Tale theme with the photographer, Roger Dewsbery. Here are the results, which I’m very pleased with! I can see possible future book covers and more… 🙂
Right now, video is coming easier to me than words…
Here’s a little video from my morning at the beach 🙂
Well, another brilliant weekend of Druid College has come and gone. We’re nearing the end of our Year 2 programme, and getting ready for the apprentices to declare their Chair, their work for Year 3. It’s an exciting time for me, to see what direction each person will take in their path to being a priest of nature, and to help guide them on their personal journey.
Some of the elements that we covered this weekend really stand out for me: crafting sacred ritual and exploring the ecstatic in ritual. As the Saturday of our weekend also coincided with Earth Day, we decided to create a ritual using the energy of the day, alongside the millions of other intentions the world over for peace, harmony and respect for this planet we call home. As Druidry is all about crafting sacred relationship, we used the time and tide as an opportunity to ride the waves of energy and, hopefully, the winds of change.
In the morning we got together and discussed the intention of the ritual, and how we could go about manifesting that intention. We hadn’t used ritual drama before, and so I suggested that Robin (our other course leader and a brilliant storyteller and actor) take on the role of someone who has lost their connection with nature, with the earth, with the fact that we are all related. In sacred space, we invited the personification of this energy, and Robin played the part to the hilt. It was difficult to hear the words he spoke (rather, yelled) in the peaceful setting of the woodland where we stood, the scent of bluebells surrounding us, the mallard ducks flying in and out of the pond next to us. Word of racism, environmental destruction, classism and more were flung into our space from the voice of a wounded individual who had lost that sense of connection, who represented everything that we work in our daily lives to heal. We had heard these words in the media, from people on the street, perhaps even from family members, words of the uselessness of nature except as a resource, words of nationalism and “foreigners”, words of the necessity of cheap manufactured goods despite the cost to human and non-human lives and more.
Then we created a container for that energy. Like an oil spill, we contained the negativity by creating a circle around the energy, holding it and stating that we will not allow it to infiltrate into our lives, and do everything we can to change and transform that energy. Circling Robin, we held hands and took in that energy.
We then needed to transform it, and so in a cauldron filled with water from the Red Spring in Glasbontury (Chalice Well) we spoke words of how we will transform that energy in our own lives. Aware of what we can and cannot control, we decided how best we can transform and create a counter-balance to the destruction of the sacred and the values of sustainable relationship that we hold so dearly. We can change ourselves, first and foremost, and that energy will ripple outwards. And so, bringing our lips close to the cauldron we spoke, of loving friends and family despite their flaws, of working on how to heal ourselves, of how we can affect our local environment, community and more. Changing ourselves, we change the world.
We then used an elixir of vervain, created by the waters of the Red Spring and White Spring, blessed by the light of the full moon, and added three drops to the cauldron filled with holy water and our intention. Through the magic of herbs and intention, the water was blessed and transformed to heal and nourish all.
We then created a circle once more, holding hands and feeling the energy of community strong. We then opened our circle and allowed a space for Robin to join us, should he so wish. In his character, he was unsure of whether he wanted to join us or remain as he was, and so we simply stated that the circle was open to him when and if he was every ready to join. There was always room at the table.
A healing sound bath followed, where we each took up an instrument with beautiful vibrational energy, and the air was cleared with the soft sounds we created, mingling with the songs of the robins and blackbirds, the wind through the new leaves in the trees, the glow of the bluebells bright in their basking in the warm spring sunshine.
All in all, it was a wonderful ritual, created by the group and one in which everyone had a part to play, both in the ritual circle and afterwards in their own lives. A very transformational ritual, to say the least.
I want to take this opportunity to thank all involved in Druid College over the last two years, who have shared in this wonderful journey. I look forward to many more years to come.
I am naturally a very solitary creature. Growing up, I spent most of my time alone, as there weren’t many other kids my age nearby, and few who spoke English. I was completely bilingual, however the majority of children were my brother’s age or younger. I had a best friend in elementary school, but she moved away in grade six, and from then on I didn’t really have a close friend who lived less than a half hour’s drive away. I didn’t play all that much with my siblings, except some sports with my brother and the other neighbourhood kids when we felt like shooting some hoops or went down to the ball park at the end of the street to play softball. Most of my time was spent playing alone, letting my imagination lead me to realms of faerie in our backyard, and when I was old enough to wander further afield on my own, to explore the forest that stretched for miles behind our house, or go and see the horses in the meadow. I was never bored.
That sense of solitude has been with me my whole life. Being very sensitive to noise, to other people’s emotions, not liking crowds and cities overwhelming me I found solace alone. I still do, to a large extent, spending most of my time alone, working from home. It’s nice and quiet; a good environment for me to write. My husband is a solitary creature as well, on the autistic spectrum and therefore prefering a calmer way of life. He’s quite easy to live with. I have lived with other people before, and can honestly say that I can’t imagine living with anyone else right now. I hated living with other people, with their noise, their mess, etc. For the most part, it’s just me, my cats and my husband (yes, in that order, and my husband knows it) J
I’ve created a beautiful home and garden with my husband, and we love it dearly. However, like a meal, or music, or any art, it’s something that really only comes into its own when shared with other people. And so I strive to create a home not only for myself, but a sanctuary for people when they visit. I am blessed with more friends in my life now than I’ve ever had, close friends who I know have got my back even as I’ve got theirs. It’s sometimes a strange feeling for this solitary creature, to know that I now have so many friends, wonderful people in my life who share their laughter and light, sharing their lives with me.
Yesterday we had a barbeque. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the birch trees were in that fresh new green of early leaves only days after the buds have opened. We totalled nine people in all, which is a lot for me and my husband’s sensitivities, and yet we had a brilliant time. Being able to share my home and my garden with friends is a true blessing. To serve others, to make them feel relaxed and welcome, is a wonderful gift to be able to give. I love seeing people just loosen up as they enjoy the sunshine and the wonderful view from the back garden, see their facial muscles relax and tension just slip from their bodies as they indulge in a bit relaxation, away from the city and amidst good company. We laughed so much yesterday. The garden and house needs laughter and friendship, even as it needs silence and quietude. The energy flows freely when we have people over, and then settles beautifully in silence afterwards.
I am truly blessed to know wonderful people. I live in gratitude, daily, knowing that at any moment things could change. Being able to share my life with others, and also to find the quiet and solitude that I need is a true blessing. I know that others are not so blessed, and it keeps me awake and aware in my practice of daily gratitude. In solitude and with others, I give my heartfelt thanks for this wonderful life, for the long and bumpy roads that got me here, for the pathless wilderness that I have travelled and for the times of smooth sailing. And when I can, I will share this with others, in joy and gratitude. And then settle into stillness once more.
A couple of friends and I decided last minute that we needed to go to Glastonbury very soon, and so off we headed Tuesday morning from Suffolk before 5am. We spent a wonderful day in Glastonbury, visiting the Red and White Springs, as well as watching the sun set from the top of the Tor. As usual, I had several epiphanies at those sacred sites, and will be working through them, hoping to form them into some sense of coherent words in the future. Meeting with Rhiannon, Bloedeuwedd and Cerridwen is a life-changing experience.
On our return trip back home the next day, we stopped at Swallowhead Springs, and there I found Brighid in the winterbourne spring. My heart was full, and tears came to my eyes as I watched the flow come out from its secret entrance beneath the rocks.
We also stopped at Avebury, and though it was filled with several Dutch tour busloads (I always get homesick when I hear Dutch!) it still held that aura of serenity that it always does.
Lots of processing to do now, lots to think over, to implement, to live. May we be the awen!