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glastonbury
Glastonbury Pilgrimage 2023
Well, I have just returned home from another Glastonbury pilgrimage. This time I seven lady friends and I from here in Suffolk went to experience the sacred sites around Glastonbury. We had a lovely time stopping at Avebury on the way, to walk among the stones and to get a feel for this ancient site, as well as having a lunch break at the Red Lion pub. We were surprised to see that their prices are still incredibly reasonable, even after everything that has happened in the last few years. In fact, we noticed that wherever we ate, we were spending around £5 to sometimes nearly £10 less than we would in Suffolk, for some reason. Since Covid hit, every pub and restaurant in Suffolk has increased their prices dramatically. It made eating out on our roadtrip/pilgrimage even that much more enjoyable.
When we arrived in Glastonbury, a few of us immediately climbed the Tor. It was quite still, with very little breeze, which is rare on the Tor! Standing up there on top of than ancient hill felt like being on top of the world, as it always does. A few people were quietly sitting and watching the sunset, or meditating, and it was incredibly peaceful up there. The mists were beginning to gather in the Somerset levels below, and the setting sun peeped out through the clouds just before disappearing below the horizon.
The next day we began our visit to the sacred places all together. We began with the Red Spring (Chalice Well). It is a beautiful sanctuary of peace and love, with the waters of the Red Spring flowing through various gardens and areas before culminating in a gorgeous vesical pisces pool at the bottom. I always begin at the bottom, crossing the little stream and stepping through into the Otherworld before I continue my journey up through the gardens, and all the ladies did it with me together. It was wonderful.
We meditated at the pool and gazed at the flow forms, before heading up to the yew trees and walking through their gateway. We then passed beneath the archway with the wrought iron, archangel Michael’s sword over our heads, which we saw as the sword of sovereignty, rather than the archangel’s fiery blade. Once in Arthur’s Court, we took off our shoes and walked through the paddling pool, bathing our feet and beginning our spiritual pilgrimage in earnest. Afterwards we sat beneath the yews and just soaked in the atmosphere of that very healing spot in the Chalice Well gardens.
Next we moved up to the Lion’s Head, a tap where you can collect water from the Red Spring within the sanctuary of the gardens. After having bathed your feet, now you can take in the healing waters into your body and soul, having been purified and readied for the experience. We filled our bottles and, for many of the women, tasted the iron-rich water for the very first time. I love the taste, but it’s not for everyone!
From there we moved up to the holiest of holies, the wellhead. Here in this silent sanctuary we meditated on the waters with other pilgrims who gathered round in quiet companionship. Well, we tried to anyway. The pot smoke and noise across the street at the White Spring was growing, until someone blew a horn and the White Spring opened in earnest. Sigh. More on that later.
We ate a picnic lunch on the slopes of Chalice Hill, just beneath the apple orchards. The sun was shining, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day. We then headed down to the gift shop to pick up a few things, and then made our way to the Tor once again.
The climb up the Tor this time was different, with more people and the wind whipping around us. Thankfully the wind was at our backs, which felt like it was giving us a helping hand on the climb to the summit. Once there we came across a large group of people occupying the sheltered, sunny side of the tower, singing and chanting, and so we moved into the tower itself. It is a relic of the old monastery complex that used to be situated on the Tor, and is the second tower to be built there, the first having fallen after an earthquake.
We stood in the tower, looking out the doors and through the roofless structure to watch the few clouds scudding quickly across the azure blue sky. We spoke of the legends that surrounded this magical hill, and of who was said to dwell within it. We then sat in silence, taking it all in, when a lady and a man came in. She stood in the doorway and laughed, while he stood in the centre of the tower (and us) and began gyrating and shaking as if he was being electrocuted, followed by noises as if he was sexually climaxing. I rolled my eyes and left, resisting the temptation to give in to violence, and was followed by the rest of my ladies, bar one. She remained, giving him the stink eye while he continued, not allowing him to vibe her out of that space. Rock on, grrlfriend.
I then spent some time sitting on the hilltop facing west, and meditated, connecting to the energy of the Tor and the surrounding landscape, the elements and the myths and legends that abound in this magical place. I was interrupted five minutes later by some young teenagers nearby who, after smoking a joint, proceeded to record themselves making what they thought were sexual noises. Sigh again.
Eventually we headed back down the Tor and went to see if the White Spring was still open. It was, and so after a health and safety briefing we all went into the dim chamber of the Victorian wellhouse. Before this structure was built, the White Spring flowed from a fissure in the rock, coating all the plant life around it with a calcified deposit, created faery forms and shapes all around it. When cholera hit the town the decision makers decided to use the water from this spring, ignoring the calcium deposits evident all around. In a short time the pipes that connected the spring to the town were filled with calcium, and water had to be found elsewhere. It is so infuriating to think that with just a little common sense, a beautiful and sacred landmark could have been preserved.
All that being said, the wellhouse has now been transformed into a water temple. Ten years ago it was a fairly quiet place to come, reflect on the mirror pool in the centre and listen to the sound of water running all around you, down the floor and through little rivulets. In the last seven or so years however, you are lucky if you can hear the water at all, with all the other noise that visitors to the spring make in that echoing, high-ceiling chamber. Such was the case with our visit this time, as it was the last two times I have visited. There just seemed to be no regard for others visiting the site; it was all about doing your own thing and to hell with everyone around you.
The water in the big, round mirror pool was filthy. I’m not sure if it has been cleaned in recent years, but it sure didn’t look like it. It had a brown cast to it, with an oily film on the top from people jumping into it and putting all sorts of chemicals from their bodies into the water. The dipping pool is off to the left-hand side of the chamber, but people ignore it and go into the main pool anyway, regardless of whether people are trying to scry, meditate, pray or do anything near it. At any rate, I was deeply saddened to see the state of the water in the main pool. I myself have been in the water, many, many years ago now when the dipping pool didn’t exist, and the main pool was the only way to get in the water. I had booked the space for a private ritual, an hour of quiet reflecting and soft chanting, prayers and verbal offerings of thanks to the water before the doors opened to the public. We had showered before coming, and gave the space the reverence it deserved. It was a beautiful time, when everything was kept clean and the waters ran clear. It is a completely different experience now.
We had a look at the dipping pool, which was crowded all along one side by four naked men watching a naked woman bend over in front of them to get her clothes so that she could dress after going in the waters. We walked between them, appearing to be tourists having a look around as we tried to give the woman some space from these blokes. They just hung around and watched anyway.
A couple of us then moved to the Brighid shrine, and spent a few of minutes there before a large group of people took up the whole space, and we moved on again, to the shrine of Gwyn ap Nudd. The drumming had already started again, by a chap who moved from section to section providing the visitors with what he probably thought was a bitchin’, trippy experience. All he did was give me a headache from his loud, continuous hard drumming which reverberated off the stone walls and from which there was no escape. Singing began loudly from the group in Brighid’s shrine, competing with the drumming. I could take no more and had to leave. I sorely miss the simple sound of the water, and the sanctity that once occupied this space.
We left the White Spring annoyed, and all the ladies commented to me that they felt the space had been taken over by men and unthinking, male energies. I had to agree. The White Spring has definitely changed in these last 7 – 8 years, and not for the better. I feel a deep grief for the beautiful, quiet, sacred space that it used to be, and which is now a free-for-all with people climbing everywhere, doing anything they like without any regard for anyone else.
The day was getting on, and so we decided to head back to our apartments and take some time to ourselves before supper. We ate at the Who’d A Thought It inn near the market cross, and the food was pretty good apart from one meal which had to be sent back, as it was not what it purported to be. Tired from the day, we had an early night.
The next day the rain came. When it rains in Somerset, it doesn’t kid around. It rained all day, a soaking rain that is what makes this landscape so lush and green compared to the arid climate of our home county of Suffolk. But it was actually nice to be in the rain, as we have had so little in the last three years that we’ve nearly forgotten what it feels like! We spent the day shopping, and there are so many lovely shops to visit on the high street, down the alleyways and arcades. One shop that I feel I MUST mention, and which I hadn’t been in as it wasn’t there since my last visit, was Sons of Asgard. This is a witchcraft supply shop, and an amazing one at that. Well lit, with tons of homemade kits for everything you could possibly want, even a magical housecleaning kit with everything you might need to magical cleanse the home, all components made by the staff themselves! The room sprays and aura sprays I delighted in, as with my asthma I can’t burn incense indoors. These homemade sprays were divine, with essential oils, flower essences, crystal infusions and more. The choice! There were also witch ball kits, spell kits of all different kinds, and a good old-fashioned herbal apothecary corner where you could order quantities of however much you fancy, much like StarChild just a couple of doors down. I really, really loved this shop, and highly recommend it for your witchy needs.
We then had lunch at the Blue Note Café, which is still awesome. The food is just so good there. I had a wrap with a bunch of salads – you can get five little salads on the plate or chips instead, but I always go for the salads as they are delicious: potato, cous cous, coleslaw, bean and greek salad complimented my wrap. And all at pre-Covid prices too!
We visisted the Goddess Temple next, which opens from 12 noon to 4pm. I love the Goddess Temple. It’s just a room in the top of a building in a courtyard, but it’s so filled with love and energy and devotion that it has taken up a spirit of its own. You truly feel like you are entering sacred space because, well, you are! In their own Wheel of the Year, they are in the element of water for the summer months, and so the temple was decorated accordingly, with super soft music to reflect that energy. Both times I visited they were playing Jennifer Berezan’s “Returing” song, which is one of my favourites for meditating on the divine feminine, and which is also a firm favourite with the temple. I spent a large chunk of time alone within the circle of nine morgens, feeling their energy and blessings whirl around me in a clockwise circle as The Lady of Avalon gazed down at me from the large painting on the altar. Pure heaven.
We then did some more shopping before our feet and legs gave out, and we retreated back to our housing for a cuppa and some R&R before supper. We ate that night at Gigi’s, an Italian restaurant again near the market cross, and it was superb. I highly recommend their pizzas, and the risotto had rave reviews from the ladies too.
Another early night, followed by an early start awaited us. We filled up bottles of water at the taps outside the Red and White Springs before beginning our long journey across the widest expanse of England, back to Suffolk and our homes on the east coast. From east to west and back again we made our pilgrimage over four days, and we came away with some special memories. Glastonbury, thank you for your beautiful, sacred places, and I hope that they all maintain or redeem their respected status, now and forever more.
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Glastonbury Pilgrimage Preview
What a trip! Had a brilliant time, and looking forward already to next year. I’ll be doing more pilgrimages to various sites over the next year, so please consider becoming a Patron to support my work! https://www.patreon.com/joannavanderhoeven
Harvest Blessings
Blessings of Lammas/Lughnasadh/Gwyl Awst to you. May your harvest be abundant and rewarding, and may we learn from our experience to carry knowledge forward into wisdom.
I have just come back from a four day road-trip with two of my best friends into the heart of the Wiltshire landscape, poking our noses in Somerset to visit Glastonbury and participate in a workshop run by author and activist Starhawk on Sunday as part of the Goddess Conference’s fringe events. To say I am shattered is an understatement; my body has shut down completely, and I am now suffering from a cold as well as my monthly moon-time a week early. When will I ever learn??? Easy does it!
At any rate, it was a magical time, with perhaps the most transformative event being a quiet meditation upon West Kennet Long Barrow. The harvest was in full swing in the landscape all around. Where we came from in Suffolk, the harvest began in early July, as we hadn’t had rain for two months. They were a bit more fortunate down in the south-west, and the harvest timing was more in tune with the Wheel of the Year than over in the East, where everything seems rather disjointed this year.
Sitting on top of the barrow, I could feel the energy of the land around me, as well as the energy of the ancestors and the barrow itself beneath me. The land’s energy was golden like the sun, flowing and bright. It was a stark contrast to the energy of the barrow, which was dark, cool and quiet. In the landscape, looking out over at Silbury Hill, I could feel the richness of this time of year, and see the ancient priests of the land atop the platform of that great hill, directing the ritual observances for honouring the harvest and the land, beginning at The Sanctuary and flowing all throughout that wonderful temple radiating outwards from Avebury’s henge and circle. Everything was in motion, everything was in full swing.
Photo by Adrian Pink https://www.flickr.com/photos/24972344@N02/7807602014
But beneath me was the silence of death, of deep stillness and quiet. Despite the bus load of tourists that had come and gone while I was meditating, I could still feel that deep sense of rest beneath me. I made my way down and into the barrow itself, stopping at the entrance to honour the ancestors. Deep within the barrow, in the furthest accessible chamber, I stood, honouring the silence of death.
But then the sounds of life came from the entrance, as baby birds chirped in their nest upon the arrival of their parents. Two families of swallows were nesting just above the entrance-way to the tomb, and the cycle of life and death seemed complete, and ever entwined, like beautiful Celtic knotwork or the spirals of the triskele seen upon so many of the neolithic and megalithic structures that abound in these British Isles.
We had just come from Swallowhead Spring, where it was a trickle in the dry landscape. Watercress choked the river Kennet, and the spring itself was dry.
We later moved to The Sanctuary, to experience this wonderful temple. It was like travelling back in time. We also visited the so-called “Moon Temple” that has been discussed in recent editions of Pagan Dawn magazine by geomancer Terence Mead. Sadly, we were unable to actually get close to the temple, as the farmer has moved all his cows, calves and a great big bull into that square kilometre where much of the temple lies. Shame, as we had walked miles and miles to get to it!
At Avebury we planned to hold a small ritual, just the three of us, during the lunar eclipse. We found a quiet corner, well, quiet for a minute or two before an old man tottered towards us as we had begun! It was all very odd, as he came near and then rolled out a blanket to sit upon, and made as if he was going to have a little nap. He stayed for a few minutes, then packed up again and made his way back the way that he had come. All very odd! We wondered if he was really real, and perhaps was, in fact, a spirit of place come to visit…
The eclipse was hidden behind fast moving clouds, and it seemed like the Wild Hunt was out riding early. The main part of the circle and henge had an air of a festival about it, so we kept to the quiet fringes and away from any crowds. As the wind picked up and our tired limbs grew heavy and cold, we called it a night and headed back to the hotel.
All in all, it was an interesting trip, deep in the heart of such a sacred landscape. But is has also made me very aware of my own landscape, and how sacred it is to me personally. I won’t be heading back that way for some time now, for I found myself missing my land, my locality, more and more as each day passed. The long six-hour drive home was taxing, and I am so grateful now just to be home, still buzzing from the experience at West Kennet, but rooting my feet firmly into the sandy heathland soil of home.
Respect and Conduct at Public Sacred Sites
When visiting a sacred site, we can get carried away. We can often forget that at public sacred sites there are others there who are on their own quest, pilgrimage, whatever. We want to rush in, to do the work, to perform ritual, to connect, to sing, chant and celebrate. But we have to think more carefully about shared space.
I recently went to the White Spring with my Druid College Year 3 apprentices. I adore the White Spring; it’s such a lovely site. However, after about 15 minutes various people and groups piled in to temple, and the words “Pagan Circus” comes to mind…
At one point, we had some Druids chanting the awen softly one corner. Lovely. But then another woman began singing in another corner. In a third corner, a man was standing and singing at the top of his lungs (which in that space is really, really loud). Trying to get away from all this noise, I made my way the quietest part of the Mirror Pool in the middle of the temple. I gazed into the water, slowly collecting my thoughts and meditating upon the sacred water, when suddenly three women, two naked and one clothed, clambered into the Mirror Pool, stood in the middle of it and held hands, performing some sort of ritual between themselves. Needless to say, my meditation was, by then, a hopeless cause.
We have so little opportunity to be who we are, especially at such sacred sites as the White Spring. But we also have to bear in mind that this is a public space. There are other Pagans there who are attempting to commune with the energies, the gods and goddesses, the spirits of place, and who don’t need others crashing in on their precious few minutes in that area. These sites are not a Pagan free-for-all. We must respect others and the place. You would never see a group of monks from an abbey in the south of France rock up to Ely Cathedral and suddenly perform Mass, or chant their evensong while the resident monks and visitors alike are doing their thing. We have to bear this in mind, that other people’s experiences are just as important and valid as our own.
And it’s not just Pagans visiting these spaces. The White Spring is open to everyone, from groups of nuns visiting from Spain to families from Yorkshire on a weekend getaway. There are very practical things we need to bear in mind at such places. For one, it’s still illegal to be naked in a public space. For another, not everyone wants to see naked people, for various reasons. Imagine the Catholic nun trying to connect with St Brigid, and then having a group of naked priestesses splashing her habit as they clamber in and out of the sacred pool (there is, indeed, a separate plunge pool for people to dip in, should they wish!). Imagine a primary school teacher asking the young girl what she did on the weekend, and her reply was “Daddy and I went to visit a spring, and watched naked ladies.”
Many of these sacred sites have special out of hours timings for those who wish to hold private ritual. Both Chalice Well and the White Spring offer this, and it should be borne in mind by those who wish to hold ritual at these sites. That way, you won’t be intruding on anyone’s time spent at these sites, or offend anyone who’s beliefs are not your own. It requires advance planning and commitment, but it’s not that hard. I’ve done it myself, and had private time at the White Spring to plunge my naked self in the icy waters with a couple of friends, or visited the Red Spring after closing hours.
Let’s bear in mind other people’s experiences, which are just as valid as our own. Let’s not turn our sacred sites into spaces of competing rituals and rites all happening at the same time. Let’s honour the sacredness of the site, and remember that it’s not just there for us. The energy of these spaces is not only for our own spiritual nourishment. We take, take, take all the time. Receive healing, inspiration and more at these sites, by all means. But remember to give back, by respecting the site, and other people visiting it.
Make it an enjoyable and memorable experience for all.
The Journey Continues…
Well, another weekend of Druid College has come and gone, and it was our final weekend with our Year Two apprentices. We have worked with so much material, as well as so much self-exploration in these last two years, and now each apprentice is declaring their Chair, choosing the work that they will focus on in the coming Year Three.
It has been an honour and a pleasure to work with each and every apprentice through this two year journey, and it is with pride and honour that Robin and I are now guiding them in their journey for their final year. I have learned so much from each apprentice, been inspired by them and the work that they have done, and in doing so am inspired to continue the work that we started back in 2015.
We can learn so much from others, and widen our perspective of the world in so many ways. Being such a solitary creature myself, I often have to force myself out into these sorts of situations, being with other humans when I’d rather be deep in the forest or singing with the wild wind on a hilltop. But these moments of pure awen happen with every soul that we meet, whether it is a bee or a human being. Connecting, soul to soul with others in our journey through life can make the threads of awen shimmer and shine with magic and beauty that inspires us, helps us to continue, to carry on. It’s a give and take, a real and true relationship.
And so, with deepest gratitude and heartfelt admiration I see the apprentices off on their next journey. We will be travelling to Glastonbury on pilgrimage at the very start of Year Three in September, a journey that beings with the self and hopefully will end in utter integration with the world through each person’s unique gift of awen.
I thank you all for the journey, and look forward to continuing it with you.
A Magical, Whirlwind Tour!
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!
Glastonbury, June 2015
I spent last weekend in Glastonbury, a beautiful little town where I always go a couple of times each year to refocus and recharge the old batteries on a spiritual pilgrimage. As a Druid, I get inspired by the land around me and my home environment more than anything, but if you want to see outside the box so to speak, there’s nothing better than a pilgrimage to a spot that has great energy and peace.
And so, my friend and I piled into the car and drove down to Somerset, stopping off at Avebury on the way as she had never seen it before. We had lunch at the Lion (a fantastic pumpkin chili burger each) and then walked amongst the stones. After we had completed our first circuit we went and spent some time by the Obelisk, in one of the two inner circles. This is a special spot for me, as it really is a gateway into the past; time moves differently in that circle. Sitting on the ground, placing your hands upon the grass you could feel time shifting and slipping in and out of the present, looking up and seeing what Avebury would have looked like before the houses were built, before the village came. It’s a powerful thing, going in and out of time, but also so wonderful: a reminder that time is not linear, exactly, but an ever ebbing and flowing tide.
After Avebury we headed to Glastonbury, where we had hoped to meet up with some friends and drum up on top of the Tor at sunset. By the time we had settled in and eaten, it had already gone past 9pm and we were just too tired, and had to pass on that little excursion. We went back to the B&B (Pilgrim’s B&B – I highly recommend it) and with a visit from the resident cat we went to sleep, having a big day ahead of us.
The next day we were up early – too early for anything to be open! Shops don’t open until after 10am (some of them opening when they feel like it) and the Goddess Temple was only open from 12 noon. So we wandered around the town, looking in windows and finally visiting them when they opened. There are some really lovely shops there, with good books, items and other pagan goodies (I highly recommend the incense from The Goddess and Green Man – Mists of Avalon and the Golden Sickle are my favourite!). We then went to the Goddess Temple, where we were able to find a little sanctuary from the high street. Clad in the red colours of Beltane still, it was a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Meditation is so easy in that sacred space. I asked one of the temple priests if he could smudge me and he did with some really powerful incense cleansing my spirit with skilful sweeps. Inside the temple there is also a Red Tent, where I always go for a second meditation session and a card reading using the Temple’s own deck of cards they created out of the Nine Morgens of their tradition. I got Freedom, and pondered that for a while in the beauty of the little temple.
We had some lunch and then headed to the White Spring, but it was closed. Sadly, the opening hours state that it is open in the afternoons on the weekends, but it is rather hit or miss as to whether anyone actually comes and opens them. So we then proceeded to Chalice Well, a beautiful space with lush gardens and a light yet at the same time heavy atmosphere of the sacred. So many people from all over the world have been there, and it is amazing to think how many feet have walked these paths, drunk these sacred waters and prayed by the wellhead. I did my usual ritualistic route up to the wellhead at the top of the garden, where a few other people were sitting. As I settled myself, I could see the usual golden glow of healing emanating from the well and flowing out into the gardens. Some young children ran up, and the glow intensified around them. They looked down into the well and then ran off, moving with the swift determination that youngsters do when they must see and be everywhere at once. I smiled, loving their fresh energy and youthful exuberance. Normally I would have been irritated, as I am not particularly maternal, but their energy and that of the well brought a smile of joy to my face. As I sat and basked in that energy I looked around to the others who had gathered around the well head. I realised the deep need for healing that so many had when coming to the Red Spring, whether physical or emotional or both. My heart opened to everyone who had gathered there, wishing them all the healing that they needed, my soul opening in compassion.
After a time I went to sit on the lower slopes of Chalice Hill, where the Chalice Well Gardens overlook the Tor. Meditating there for a bit I was able to send my roots deep into the ground, breathing into them and through them from the deep, dark depths of the soil. My heart was calm, my soul at peace.
We left the gardens and I met an old friend from The Druid Network, who was there with a friend of his. It was so lovely to see him, and even though I had difficulties in the past with his friend, my heart was open to them both – Chalice Well is such a place of healing, I cannot even begin to describe it. We all chatted and laughed, and then we continued onto the Tor while they made their way into the gardens.
As we puffed our way up the steep slope of Glastonbury Tor, the wind whipped our hair and clothes and stung our cheeks. It was windy, even for the Tor, which is always windy. We got to the top, and as always felt the energy whirling around us, pulling us up, down, sideways, inside and out. My friend went and sat on the northern side while I found a little corner out of the wind facing westwards. As I sat I could feel the energy that made this such a special place, a place between the worlds, between the earth and sky with fresh clean water flowing from it into the red and white springs below. It was then that it struck me – freedom. The card that I had drawn from the goddess temple. Freedom was not just physical or creative freedom, but also an emotional freedom. Letting go of hate, letting go of past grudges, we are then free. My spirit soared with the jackdaws that lifted off the grassy slopes of the Tor to ride down into the valley below. The epiphany had struck, not just as an intellectual exercise but as a real life experience, from start to finish in a single day. My heart opened in true compassion on top of the Tor, to everything on this planet, like it never had before and I felt a deep peace settle in my soul that would carry me through my life ahead. I realised that before I had only glimpses of the healing power of compassion, now the light flooded through my being, in perfect freedom.
We went back down to enjoy a nice meal and then relaxed in the B&B. Tomorrow we would finish our shopping and pop into the White Spring on the off chance that it would be open (it wasn’t when we were there). I was saddened that I could not actually visit inside the White Spring, where I had first met my goddess, Brighid, but I could still feel her all around me, as I always do, wherever I am in the world.
Our journey back was quick and painless, and exhausted I climbed into bed next to my husband, my two cats snuggling up as if I had been away for weeks. Going away makes you appreciate all that you have even more, even as it opens up new doors and allows for new experiences. Thank you, Glastonbury, once again, for a beautiful weekend.
Friendship
Friendship is one of the greatest gifts we can have on this planet. I am blessed, in that I have a loving family and lots of good friends. In the last six to eight years I’ve developed close bonds with my girlfriends, and it is something that I treasure deeply.
Where two souls meet, in open honesty, with no agenda there is a beautiful, wonderful, inspiring interaction of heart meeting heart. In all our gloriousness and with all our faults, we can be who we truly are and in that honesty, are accepted for who we are. My friends are there to help when I need help, to point out where I might be wrong in a situation, to advise when I might be right, and to not judge me either way. I’m filled with gratitude for having friends like these.
For me, there is a special closeness, a special bonding with my girlfriends. Perhaps it is because we understand each other, have many similar shared experiences in our lives. Maybe it’s just our souls connecting with honesty. Whatever it is, it fills me with joy and inspiration. I love being with them, hearing their laughter, sharing their tears, wrapping my arms around them and having them hold me in return. With belly-shaking guffaws, snorts, farts, burps and all, they are my best friends.
Many of my girlfriends have a love of dance – quite a few of them are fellow belly dancers. We find a freedom in movement, a sense of belonging to a tribe who love to dance, who love music, who love to be in each other’s company in that setting and in others. I believe that as a species we were meant to dance, that it opens up our hearts and souls and allows us to speak without words. It allows us freedom from fear, from inhibition, from the walls that we surround ourselves with each and every day.
And so I’m looking forward to getting back to Glastonbury with one of my best friends, who couldn’t be with us last time we all went together. Spending time together laughing and enjoying good food. Spending time together in silence. Spending time together singing along to every Taylor Swift song from every album in the car drive down. Keeping each other awake on the car ride back. Experiencing a shared boundary and having a shared experience – that is what life is all about. So many things are better when they are shared.
To all my girlfriends, I love you with all my heart. You are my sisters, my inspiration, my joy. x
Down the Forest Path 