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An Ounce of Prevention is Worth a Pound of the Cure
Over the years I’ve done a lot of work with personal sovereignty. This is work that is never-ending. Why? Well, we must be vigilant in so many areas or our lives and in our own sovereignty, in order to cultivate it and nurture it: it’s not a one shot deal. We don’t do the work once and that’s it. It’s a process. Like learning, expanding our horizons, becoming better people, becoming who we are meant and want to be; it’s all a process.
I’ve had to learn how to be discerning in my life: in who gets to be a part of it, whose energies I will allow in, and also what I consume. Life throws so many things at you that you can’t control. However, what you can control is your own actions and your own personal sovereignty. It’s all about choice. You can, for the most part, choose who gets to be a part of your life, and who doesn’t (as an adult, at least). Yes, you will have colleagues, bosses, other people in your life who aren’t chosen, but here I’m talking about the inner circle of your life. Who gets to affect you on a personal, energetic, physical and even psychic level? Who can you leave at the door, willingly, when you walk into your personal space?
Discernment is such an important concept in our lives. When we have the power to choose, we are taking part in our own discernment and our own sovereignty. And we do, in fact, have a lot of power to choose. It’s all about finding out which areas you can boost in your discernment. Income, environment and other factors will have an affect on your discernment, and so you have to make the choices that work for you. What works for me may not work for you, or even be available to you. So we have to work with what we’ve got, first and foremost.
In this article I’m going to talk about some of the things that we consume. I’ve spoken many times about what we consume on a physical level, from a Druid’s and Pagan’s perspective, and from a Zen perspective as well. But here I’ve going to talk about what we consume on an energetic level.
Protection magic is probably the biggest area of spellcrafting in Pagan circles. Why is that? Because we are exposed to all sorts of energies throughout the course of a single day that we need to take a closer look at, and think about how it is affecting our lives. For me, it’s important to work with prevention, and that way we won’t need so much of the cure. Taking a look at the energies that we allow into our lives before they begin to affect us is the first step in this process of discernment. We may do this on a physical level already, ie., we take off our shoes before we enter into the home, to keep the dirt, bacteria and other nasties out of our home. Think about it: your shoes have been in public toilets, walked through pavements covered in all sorts of nasties such as dog wee and poo, gum, spit, etc. Do we want to track all that back into our house? Hell no. So we take our shoes off at the door. One moment spent in an airplane, train or public toilet will have you wanting to remove your shoes before you take all that into the house with you. Guaranteed.
Doing the same with energy is extremely beneficial for you too. Did you have an argument with your boss, or did someone express road rage at you on the way home? Did someone say an unkind thing to you online, or in person? Have you watched the latest world tragedy on the news, or had your television pumping out violent scenes in your living room? These all have energy, which can build up in your home and in your soul. It’s already been proven that when we are exposed to violence, we become de-sensitised to it. What I want to do is to sensitise you again, so that you are aware of these energies that affect you on a daily basis. Words and images have power, names can hurt you just as much as sticks and stones. In a world where there is more media than ever being consumed, the sheer amount of information being thrown at you whether you wanted it or not is completely staggering. So what can we do about it?
This is where discernment comes in. We can choose what we allow into our personal space in so many ways. Do you watch the news first thing in the morning on the televison while having your breakfast? Do you feel down and a little depressed with the world afterwards? Maybe you should consume this form of media at a different time, and perhaps even in a different way. Reading the newspaper can be a big help for those of us who are sensitive to images of violence and grief which are the mainstay of all the major news networks on television today. I literally can’t watch 30 mins of news with crying, because the energy of people’s suffering on the screen is real, and I know that. When I see people wailing as they search through the rubble for their child, I know that it is real. It’s not an abstract or a movie, it is real life. That energy will affect me for the rest of the day. Some people are a lot less sensitive, and can watch it and get on with their day. But I, for one, would never, ever want to be de-sensitised to violence and grief, because that is the mainstay of my own personal compassion for others and my ability to empathise. I can’t turn it off, and I wouldn’t want to, for compassion and empathy I feel make me a better person. But what I can do is to select just how much I intake these energies, so that they don’t overwhelm me on a daily basis. There is not a lot that I can do for earthquake victims thousands of miles away, apart from donating to a charity to help them. But what I can do in my own environment is a lot more, and that is where I need to spend my energy.
Social media. Yikes. When I think of the past times and energy that I have spent with people whom I don’t know from a hole in the wall, I literally cringe. Don’t waste your time and energy arguing or even interacting with nasties on social media. It depletes you and just adds to the barrage of energy that is sapping you dry. Instead, be discerning about who and what you interact with on social media. And spend less time on there overall, because the real world matters a whole lot more. Doomscrolling is a disease. Get out and turn your face to the sun, the wind, the rain, the stars. Those are energies that are a whole lot better to consume than insults or even material from people you don’t know and over which you have very little control in how it’s being presented to you. Choose your friends, your contacts, your groups wisely. Be selective about the ads that you see. Don’t let the algorithms dictate what you will see, but instead create your own. You are not 100% at the mercy of social media providers. You are a consumer, and so you will have a say in things, even if it’s a lot smaller than you would wish. And if this is a really big issue for you, then leave it altogether. More and more people are doing this, and it’s not entirely a bad thing. Choose your social media intake wisely. Be discerning, and be sovereign.
I could probably write a whole book just on this subject, and so I will keep this article in check and just remind myself, and others, to look deeply at what it is that you are consuming and bringing into your personal space. If we are discerning about the energies that we allow in, we will need a lot less protection magic and work in the long run. It’s the first step in any energy work, and the basis of all personal sovereignty.
Blessings to you and yours.
The Importance of Home
The first harvest is mostly in for my part of the world, in Suffolk, East Anglia. There are still a few fields of wheat or barley that are waiting either for the rental of the combine harvester to come through or for a clear, sunny day when it can be gathered in dry. It’s been a good year so far for all the crops, and it beckons me to see what the first of the harvests gathered is like within my own life, and how I can work with that for the rest of the harvest tide.
My new book came out on Lammas here in the UK, which I think is an auspicious time. I’ve had really good feedback so far, and it’s a work that I am very proud of; it’s my best book yet. But thoughts are now turning once again to the simpler things, the quiet things, time out of the limelight. Even as the nights begin to draw in, and the leaves lose their green vibrancy settling into dark shades and some even beginning to turn in their autumnal splendour, I think of the coming months and the safety, security and sanctuary that is home.
For me, my home has always been split between two continents. My family home in Canada, and my adopted home here in the UK. I love both landscapes; I love the history and the spirits of place. While politically the UK seems to be going down the rabbit hole while Canada is holding its own with integrity, still it’s the land that I keep coming back to. My own little patch, where I live and work and love and play is so very important to me, and has always been. It’s been instilled in me, from a young age from my wonderful parents, just how much a home can take care of you, if you take care of it. We never had much money growing up, but it was the little things that made home so very special. Making home a safe space, a space where you could grow but still retreat when needed, a place to find companionship and also experience the solace of being alone. The vibrancy and comradery of the dining table in full swing, or the quiet solitary walks through the woods. It was all good.
My home here in the UK is a haven of quiet, peace and often solitude, working as I do from home with my two cats for company. We have lovely neighbours all around us, and this time of year I will often answer the door to find fruit and veg presented and offered in friendship, which I gladly receive! Zero food miles, for starters, and there is nothing like eating a meal with food that fresh. In return I offer the bounty of my garden: apples as well as seedlings from the many and varied plants (and my latest book, for those who are interested). It’s got a feel of a small community; we look out for each other, and we’ve got each others’ backs. My neighbours bring in my dustbins when they do their own, and I’ll do the same if I’m the first out there. It’s a feeling of togetherness, which is something that I’ve never really had elsewhere. Perhaps it’s living in the countryside that does it – or maybe it’s just luck of the draw when it comes to your neighbours.
But the home is all important. Keeping it looking and feeling lovely, maintaining that balance between tidy and relaxed. I love my home and have always made anywhere I live a home. Surrounding myself with the things I love, as well as the gifts from others who remind me of the deep bonds of friendship. I’m so grateful to my parents for having instilled in me this sense of the home being a sanctuary, and that has allowed to me to live thousands of miles away for the last twenty years in relative peace (while still missing them incredibly).
Soon, I will be flying back home for a visit, as it’s been over a year since I’ve been back. I’ve calculated this into my carbon allowance for the year. I Skype with my mother and father every week, and occasionally if she’s online my sister will join in. It’s lovely to be able to see their faces through the miracle of technology, and it’s even better that the computer they use is in my old bedroom. I really feel like I’m back home when I get to talk to my mom this way, and it gives me a sense of connection even when the miles are so numerous between us. But there’s nothing like actually physically being there, enjoying the sights and smells and engaging all the senses in the concept of home, as well as the memories. Just sitting at the kitchen table, having a cup of tea with my mom makes me smile with warmth and anticipation. Watching my young nephew run around, or listening to his older sibling play guitar. Cycling with my sister, going to my brother’s cabin. Reminiscing and walking through all the memories, and letting the future take care of itself. Swimming in the lake, having a beer outside in the evening. It’s the little things that matter.
And so, as I ponder the rest of the harvest, I wish you all a wonderful harvest tide. May you enjoy it with those you love, and may the peace and sanctuary of home be with you in your hearts, even if you have to create that anew. Find that place, and let it settle in your soul. It’s the perfect spot to reflect and plan for many future harvests to come.
Harvest for the Soul and Coming Home
It’s good to be home. After a couple of weeks visiting my family back in Canada, with yet another heat wave (40C with the humidity!) I can honestly say that I’m grateful to be back in Suffolk. It feels like autumn has arrived here, as it has back in Canada (the day after I left, it turned to a lovely 21C and the leaves beginning their autumnal splendour) and the change in the air is most welcome.
As always, going back to visit my family brings up contemplations of just what “home” really is. I realised that in 3.5 years, I will have lived in the UK for as long as I have lived in Canada. Over twenty years of eating food grown in this land, drinking water from local bore holes and reservoirs, breathing in the air and connecting with the different flora and fauna relative to this place and this time. It really has shaped me, alongside the people I’ve met and the experiences I have had, and I am both grateful and a touch melancholic when reminiscing about all that I have done and gone through in moving to this new land all those years ago.
This is where I made my lifelong dream come true, to be an author. Never did I ever dream about establishing a Druid College, or a belly dance company, or a host of many other turns my life has taken. It’s been a challenge and a blessing, the twists and turns my life has taken, and for which I am both proud and humbled to have come out the other side. England is not the land of Madam George and roses, as Sinead O’Connor once sang, but it is the place that captured my heart, alongside Wales, Scotland and Ireland.
So I return to my home with a renewed sense of place, of home and indeed, of belonging. Even though I will always carry a thread of being an outsider, with my accent alerting people to the fact that I was not born here, still I feel like this place is home. An immigrant to this country, coming from a long line of immigrants to various countries, I feel a shared connection both to my ancestors as well as to the ancestors of place, which here in the UK are so varied from before history even began. I have a few months now to breathe deeply, to take the time to reconnect, now that my new book for Llewellyn has been sent off and revised. For the rest of the year, I will be taking information in, taking in the sensual and the ecstatic, allowing the awen to flow into me after many long months of being on the other end. Allowing myself to reap the harvest sown earlier on. And so the cycle continues, in and out, flowing and ebbing, as I gather my resources ready for a new round of work come the new year. For the next three months, I will be listening to the words and voices of others, allowing their inspiration to fill me, and see where that takes me.
And in the meantime, I shall walk this land, the sandy soil of heath and woodland beneath my feet, the wind blowing in from the sea and scenting the air, the hearthfires burning both in the little village around me and within my soul.
P.S. Here’s a sneak peek at the cover of my new book, coming out next summer!
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.
Lucid dreaming
Lately I’ve been getting pretty good at flying.
Once a month, or every couple of months, I have a flying dream. Lately they’ve been intentional, as just before I fall asleep, or when I awaken into another sleeping pattern in the middle of the night or early morning, I say to myself “I really fancy another flying dream”. Starting to take control of your dreams is often termed “lucid dreaming”, usually best experienced in lighter stages of sleep than in deep or exhausted sleep. I’ve done this various times, to turn around dreams that have gotten out of hand, situations that are getting ugly, and lately in order to experience true joy and freedom.
My last flying dream a couple of days ago was very interesting. In the previous flying dream, I restricted myself to an abandoned house that my sister was going to buy, so that I could practice flying without anyone knowing. For some reason, it was important to keep this a secret, and not let anyone know of my special power. In the latest dream, I took it outside, and didn’t really care who saw me flying around. It was freedom in every sense.
Feeling a bit homesick, I decided to go and visit my childhood home in flight mode, and then I was flying up my parents’ street, seeing the house and the hills and miles of forest behind. I thought “Wouldn’t it be cool to see my hills and forest from the air? I’ve never seen them from that vantage point. It would be great to see home from a bird’s eye view.” I swooped past the house and rose up high into the air, past the ridge letting the vast expanse opened out before me.
Only it wasn’t home. Or at least, it wasn’t the home of my childhood.
Spreading out before me was the gently rolling hills, fields, hedgerows and landscape of England. I shook my head and went back down for another swoosh up, telling myself that this time I would see home. Again, the same thing happened.
I slowly came out of the dream, exhilarated by all that flying. But I pondered the meaning of my semi-lucid state. I wasn’t able to see what I wanted to see. Or was I?
I have lived in Britain for over 15 years now. This dream has confirmed that this is my home now. While a large part of me will always remain in the hills and valleys, rivers and lakes of my home where I grew up, this is where I do my work, live my life, work with the ancestors and the gods. It was a beautiful affirmation of home, and freedom.
In what I suppose became a semi-lucid state, my sub-conscious helped me to realise and take to heart something that I had only considered in my head. Now I was able to feel it wholly, truly, in my entire being. I feel lucky and blessed.
May you all fly free!
Welcome Home – Soul Retrieval Part 3
The final piece awaited, locked within myself and held in trust by an old friend. I had found those fragments of my soul through a two week exploration, being in the beauty of my ancestral home and surrounded by family. It had been a lot easier than I had anticipated – perhaps it had something to do with being home, physically home in a place that meant so much to me. At any rate, it was the right choice to make, to follow this path of soul retrieval and finding the essential self on my own, instead of following the “traditional” shamanic route. I am more comfortable with my own tradition – to each their own on this gorgeous journey of life.
The fourteen year old girl who hid away because she was bullied and found sanctuary with the horses in the valley – all I had to do was stand at the valley edge, where I could see her, extend my hand and watch her turn to me, smile, and extend hers – across the valley she flew back into me. The 24 year old woman, who was about to leave Canada for the first time with her new husband, once again leaving behind everything she knew to face the unknown, and who did not want to come with me, choosing instead to remain on that path that she walked every day as she waited for the visa clearance – she was equally easy to find. On a hot, humid evening I found her as I walked down that same path, and she walked towards me and straight into me, my heart feeling full as I told her that everything turned out okay, that there was nothing to fear. She settled at once within me and I felt both heavier and lighter at the same time, my heart a little fuller. I now just needed one more piece to make the puzzle complete.
And so we went to the power spot, where the river met the lake, in the late afternoon sunshine. In the sand on the beach, I drew a circle around me, reinforcing the nature of the cyclical, the sacredness of the world, the fact that there is no beginning and no end. I made my prayers to the spirits of place, the four quarters of the world and the ancestors. I sat down and made clear my intention, and then my friend joined me to help.
He reminded me of that part of myself that I felt I had left behind, that I had trouble reaching lately. He described, in detail, aspects of her that I had forgotten completely. Seeing myself reflected through his eyes, she came back to life. Being with someone who knew me so deeply was not only a comfort, but he was also my guide back to her. And in doing so, he surprised himself by finding a part of his own soul that he had nearly forgotten.
With open arms I welcomed her back. We hugged each other with tears in our eyes as we both remembered our essential selves, and honoured the beauty and sacredness of the moment, this life, this world.
Welcome home.
Down the Forest Path 