Spring Equinox Ritual

17424940_1631874040162911_2176214830578649287_nHere’s a ritual that you can use to celebrate the Spring Equinox. A full set of rituals for the seasons, as well as for life’s passages will be found in my upcoming book, Hedge Druid for Llewellyn Worldwide, available in 2019.

Spring Equinox

For this ritual, try to find a place that is between two places: a threshold place, a liminal place. It might be on the seashore, or a lakeshore, where the water meets the land. It might be a hilltop, where the land meets the sky. Even a backyard can be seen as a liminal place, between your home and the wilderness. You can choose a liminal time as well, such as dawn or dusk, not quite morning, not quite night. This ritual is aimed at opening your mind and your self to wider perspectives, as you stand on the balance point of light and darkness. There is nothing that you need for this ritual, no items at all, but you can always leave an offering if you so choose. Please ensure that it is biodegradable, and compatible with the environment. Songs and poetry are always good options, if you are unsure.

Designate the sacred space, if you feel the need to do so. Some feel more secure within a ritual nemeton (sacred circle), others do not feel the need. Do what feels right for you. Take a moment, a few moments, and connect with the place. Listen, and feel. Allow the place to tell you its story. Connect with it, and become a part of it.

When you are ready, stand and hold your arms out to the sides. Say these or similar words:

I stand at the threshold, in the liminal world between time and space.

I stand upon the knife’s edge, I stand upon the turning point in this liminal place.

I honour the balance of day and night, of dark and light; 

Equal day, equal night.

Grant to me Second Sight. 

Lower your arms, sit down if you wish, and meditate upon the area around you. If you’re feeling adventurous, stand with one leg raised, or on one foot with the other either pushed out in front or behind you. A good pose to use is the “tree pose” in yoga.  If you’re feeling very adventurous, cover one eye with your hand while standing in this posture. This is an ancient posture said to be used by the Druids to see through and beyond the veils to the Otherworld.

Stand in this position for as long as you can. Allow yourself to open up to the place, allow it to give you insight. You can gaze at the clouds scudding overhead, or the waves lapping the shore, or the wind among the leaves of the trees. Let your mind relax, and open itself to what nature is trying to say to you. You may ask a question, or have a problem that needs some inspiration in order to be solved. Allow nature to be your guide, allow the spirits of place to guide you. Allow the liminal nature of the time of the Spring Equinox to take you beyond light and dark, day and night, black and white. Find that balance point, where everything is perfectly held: in your body, in your mind, in your soul and in the world around you. The answer will appear, or you will get insight into your own nature, and/or the nature of the world.

When you are ready, gently come out of this pose, or rise from your seated posture. Hold your arms out to your sides once again, and say these or similar words:

The balance shifts, the doors open and we come through to the other side

The darkness recedes, the light increases and we have no place to hide

Second sight grants to me

Confirmation in times of uncertainty

The Wheel turns round, cycle never-ending

From darkness to light this cycle we’re tending

Hail to the growing light, farewell to the long night

Hail to the awen (inspiration) and to the Second Sight

Give your heartfelt thanks to the spirits of place, for their gifts. Honour in your soul every living thing for its own sake. Honour the times and tides of the Spring Equinox, of balance. When you are ready, give your offering, close down the ritual space if you created a nemeton (sacred circle), and thank the spirits of place once more. Remember, and write down if you need to, what you learned and gained from opening up to the second sight. These insights may well carry you through the light half of the year, until the autumn equinox…

(Designating a sacred space, or circle casting will be discussed in the next blog post.)

Blodeuwedd’s Wisdom

My friends Lisa, Michelle and I did our Spring Equinox ritual this morning, getting up pre-dawn and heading out to the beach to greet the rising sun. It was beautiful: the waves crashing, the light and air around us brightening with each passing minute. We chanted and sang, and poured waters from Chalice Well and the White Spring into the North Sea, releasing what needed to be let go, and welcoming change and transformation with the ebb and flow of the tide. We honoured the darkness, and bade a hearty hail to the growing light, the longer days.

Later, Lisa and I headed out to the heath, where we went to my special spot, a copse of birch trees near a stream; a quiet place on the open access land where no one seems to go but me and the deer. The area was filled with narcissus flowers, their small yellow heads shining against the fresh green of the grass in Spring. As I lay among the flowers, their scent filling my senses, I felt the energy of Blodeuwedd coursing through me.

Performing immram (journeying) to Her later before my altar in my home, I asked for guidance on how to transform the energies of abandonment issues I had with childhood friends. Blodeuwedd simply told me to look into the pool of water that lay before the White Spring, and there I would find my answer. As I gazed into its dark depths, a voice said “Stop trying to fix it. You can’t fix the past; it happened, it is done.” I saw the wisdom of this and also how to transform the energies held up in the hurt of abandonment. I needed to nurture the friendships I had right now. I had to really let go of the past, by stopping trying to fix it, to mend it so that it would stop hurting. I needed to focus on the present moment, the current friendships, regardless of how they might turn out. I needed to still love with abandon, instead of fearing abandonment.

Blodeuwedd stopped trying to fix her past, with her husband for whom she was created. It was not a good relationship, and now she is free; she flies free on the wings of freedom, seeing through the darkness of the shadow and of illusion, and grasps the truth of her sovereign self in her talons, never letting go. She is a great teacher, and I honour her for all that she is, with all that I am.

blodeuwedd 1For more on Blodeuwedd, I highly recommend the book  Flower Face: A Devotional Anthology in Honor of Blodeuwedd (Avalonian Devotionals), with introduction by Jhenah Telyndru.

 

 

Release

p1000386-1024x666I had a lovely solo ritual last evening, to celebrate the autumn equinox. As the sun set, I meditated on the changing colours in the sky, on the harvest that has taken place, the wheat and corn crops taken in, the onions and turnips. The fields are still being tended, ploughed for winter veg, seeding with potatoes and other root crops. The sounds of work in the fields is still going on, even as the evening dog walkers pick blackberries and apples from the hedgerows. It’s a strange time of both noise and stillness, when the swifts and house martins have mostly left, the skies seeming emptier for it. The dawn chorus is softer, the evening calls less urgent.

The times of the festivals have an effect on me, physically as well as spiritually. At these strong points in the year, I often feel at odds, not quite in this realm or any other. At Beltane, my head felt like it was being pressed in on all sides as we spent time at the local tumuli. Yesterday, and the day before, I felt dizzy, sometimes faint as it seemed the energy was swirling around me yet again. Being very susceptible to pressure changes in the air, I feel I’m becoming even more sensitive to energies unseen that roil and swirl around this little sphere hurtling through space.

I love autumn. I love the energy that it brings, a quiet, soft, energy: a release. It seems that all summer long, from Beltane onwards there has been a swift build-up of energy that it seeking its release. Some of it goes at midsummer, but most of it is contained, helping to ripen the harvest fruits. It’s at this time of year, when the fruits fall, that the energy is released, the potential lying still and quiet in the seeds, ready for winter’s dreaming.

And so at last night’s ritual, I began with meditation, and then did the ritual in my usual way, scattering leaves and saying words of my appreciation for the season and the harvest around my circle. I also prayed for peace, a deep, heartfelt prayer, as well as doing five earth touchings. I then meditated again, the sun having set, feeling the balance between darkness and light. I opened my self to what I needed to learn over the long dark nights of approaching winter, widening my perspective, allowing nature to guide me. Instantly, one word rang through my head: forgiveness.

Taking inspiration from nature, I thought about forgiveness. If any ecosystem held a grudge, then it would fail. Trees continue to provide us with oxygen, despite us decimating their population. Herbs continue to grow, despite humanity’s propensity for herbicides. The rain falls, the sun shines, and we still reap the rewards that this world has to offer each and every day. If we could only do the same, if we could only learn true forgiveness, then this world would be a much better place.

I thought that I was pretty good at forgiveness. I’ve forgiven people in my life who have caused me to suffer. But taking a deeper look, my forgiveness wasn’t all-encompassing. I needed to release the anger and hate, like the leaf falls from the tree, like the leaves that lay scattered all around me in my ritual circle.

Forgiveness is one of the most difficult things to do for us humans. We often equate forgiveness with weakness, seeing it as a relinquishing of power. Those who forgive, we think, are only setting themselves up for more grief from those who would cause them to suffer. They’re doormats.

What we don’t realise is the exquisite power of forgiveness. When we can truly forgive, we can move on with our own lives. This doesn’t mean that we condone bad behaviour; far from it. We can still stand up for ourselves, speak out against injustices. We will still face struggles with people in our lives. But we can suffer less in ourselves, if we can forgive.

But we don’t want to. We want the other person to suffer, for all the hurt that they have done to us and to others. If we forgive, we think that they’ve been left off the hook. This most certainly isn’t the case. Everyone is accountable for their actions, everyone has a responsibility for their own life. We can’t force anyone to accept this, of course, but we can set the example for others. And when others don’t follow our example, we shrug and move on, knowing that we have, at the very least, stopped the suffering in ourselves.

But we want to change people. We want to stop people who are hurting others, and rightly so. So we can stand up for what is right, remembering that there is more than one right. We can also forgive, because everyone is suffering in some form or other. Whether willingly or not, when someone is causing another being harm, they are suffering deep inside from some affliction that we may never realise. They are fighting their own battles. We must set the example.

That doesn’t mean that we’re going to suddenly start liking these people. But we can allow the power of compassion to flow freely, to stop the pain in our lives, and when we do it begins to radiate outwards, like rings of water in a still pond. We’re not going to take any crap, but equally we’re not going to allow any crap that comes our way to cause us to suffer, to continue to make us crazy, hurt or bitter. We’re going to remain open, calm and filled with love for this planet, and in doing so understand the true meaning of forgiveness.

We’re also going to forgive ourselves. In doing so, we find peace. We’ve all screwed up, we’ve all caused pain at some point. We need to release that in order to function properly. We accept responsibility for our actions, and ensure that we never do it again. We strive to be better people, to make the world a better place.

Some would query whether it is truly possible for any human being to really forgive. I’ve thought about this myself. As such emotionally biased creatures, are we able to set aside our skewed perceptions of any given situation? In the attempt to do so, at the very least, is the heart of compassion. In the striving to do so, we rise to the challenge.

So my ritual last night was filled with my home environment providing me with the awen on the nature of forgiveness, compassion and love. And as I sat in the growing darkness, the cool soft breeze playing around me, I whispered these four words: I welcome the darkness.

 

Finding balance

Finding your balance point is a major part of this season, the season of harvest. We learn of need and abundance, of just enough and not quite enough. We learn what needs to be worked on still, and what we can sit back and enjoy. Having a birthday that falls right in the middle of the harvest season is a great reminder for me to stop, to take stock, in my own personal life. Too often for me the focus is outward, and rightly so in my opinion, working on deep integration and relationship. Too often too many spend their entire lives looking inward, and missing the entire outer experience of being in the world. The curse of self-awareness is a blinkered view of the world because the focus is centred on the self. When the self becomes “we”, however, our views can change rapidly. But right here, right now, I am about to celebrate another year’s passing in my life, camping with my husband, taking our canoe out and enjoying some time together away from all the demands of everyday life. With the equinox approaching, the crops still being taken in, the apples in my garden ripening, I see how everything in nature is working in a balance, where if something is out of kilter, it will more than likely fail.

Taking this time is essential for my own personal balance. Teetering on the tipping point of a situation can be gloriously inspiring, invigorating and exciting, but so can finding that harmony within. So many people feel alive only when they are tipped one way or another, but for me balancing in the middle of that teeter-totter was always the best place to be on the playground. Literally. I loved finding my balance, seeing the ends of the teeter-totter stretched out to either side, knowing that I could keep them both off the ground and in balance through finding my own centre. I didn’t need the drama of a great high or a low bump while sitting on the edge of that playground attraction – that middle place was the most exhilarating, where I found I used the most skill to find and maintain my own balance to affect the whole.

I’ve always had good balance physically. Learning to ski and ice skate from a very early age, riding bikes all summer long, I knew how to find and work with that sweet spot to my own advantage. With ice-skating in particular I loved spinning, finding that spot on the blade of my skate that allowed me to spin at speed in one place, ignoring the dizziness and simply being in the moment of perfect balance, often one leg lifted, creating beautiful shapes and feeling physically present and wonderful in that moment.

Spiritually, my work in Buddhism has helped me to understand the wisdom of the Middle Way. This is not to say that my life isn’t full of spiritual or emotional ups and downs, but instead the focus is to incorporate the teachings of harmony and balance into everyday life.

I simply don’t understand the need to create huge dramas when life is so utterly wonderful. I’m not saying my life is wonderful, for again there are equal amounts of pleasure and pain, work and enjoyment, life and death. But being in that moment of moving beyond opens me to the wonder that is so utterly inspiring to Druids the world over. It is that exquisite taste of awen, of inspiration, where souls meet and worlds are broken open into new and deeper meanings than ever imagined. That wonder is not just found in great highs and at the turning point of the lowest lows, but also in perfect balance.

This harvest season, as we approach the equinox, I’ll be working further with balance, opening my eyes to see it in the world around me, to allow it to inspire me further in my work. In the heathland and forest of my home, where the ecosystem maintains itself without human intervention. In the cycles of water and wind that roam over our blue planet. In the dance of stars and moons that hurtle through time and space. And at the centre of it all is balance, even as the world spins without, here, at the very centre is a stillness that is so exquisite there simply aren’t even words to describe it.

New book by Danu Forest coming soon!

DF autumn equinoxApologies for the lack of posts lately – this is an incredibly busy time of year, for me as a Druid priest and also getting through my Herbcraft diploma course, as well as starting up Druid College this October.  However, I saw that the ever-lovely and talented Danu Forest has a new book coming out soon, and I wanted to share the good word here! I really enjoyed the first book in this series, which was The Magic of the Summer Solstice.  Her second offering, the Magic of the Autumn Equinox is available for pre-order now! Click HERE for more details.

Reblog: The Blessing of Samhain… If You Dare…

This is a reblog from my channel, DruidHeart, at the Witches and Pagans website. To read the full article, click HERE.

Here in the UK, the weather has turned and the colder air sweeps down from the North. Nights are longer, as the sun jumps along the horizon with each rising and setting, heading further and further towards the south. Trees are changing colours, and plants are beginning to die back, the green fading into golden and tawny hues, foliage less dense and earth beginning to peek through the underbrush.

The tide of Samhain has begun, when, after the autumn equinox we prepare for the darkness to come. The balance has been tipped, and we have tipped with it, our internal clocks trying to adjust to new temperatures and light levels. Often, we try to establish our centre, attempting to find some foothold or handhold in the coming darkness, our egos crying out the great rallying cry of “I AM!” The darkness, however, knows the folly of this, and smiles as it creeps ever closer.

In the darkness there are no guidelines. There are no boundaries. There is no up or down, no left or right. There is only impenetrable night, a sweet release from the constraints of the known…

To read the full article, click HERE.