After my hard drive crashed (and is not repairable) I finally got out again and did some filming this week. I hope you like it!
I can’t begin to tell you how many times I have heard that Freya is a goddess of love. Usually, it just ends there. But in my years of working with her, I’ve come to understand so much more about this wonderful goddess, and how she has often been reduced to a misogynistic soundbite. Well, no more.
So, where in the lore does it say that Freya is a goddess of love? Well, in just one small reference, actually. In Gylfaginning, it is said that “She loves poetry, she is good to invoke about love.”  That’s pretty much it when it comes to the mention of love.
Freya is a goddess of sexuality, and in relation, fertility and sensuality. Her brother, Freyr, is more about fertility than Freya, in my opinion. Freya is about the sensuous nature of life, of how to live it pleasurably and to its fullest. She does not really concern herself with fertility, per se, though she is sometimes invoked in birthing, which may be due to her role as a lady of life. Her two daughters are called Hnoss (Jewel) and Gersimi (gem). Are these actual daughters or just a kenning for some of the things she loves the most?
Freya’s power is in her own sovereignty. She chooses how to live her life, and will not let anyone tell her otherwise. She takes on lovers as she wills, but then, so do other goddesses and gods in Norse mythology. It’s not uncommon, really. Loki derides many goddesses and tries to tarnish them with the brush of harlot in Lokasenna. Is this simply a Christian gloss created by those who were writing down these myths? This piece of the lore derides pretty much all of the pagan and magical practices of the gods, and makes it a very suspect piece in my view.
Some will say that Freya’s everlasting search for Óðr demonstrates an aspect of her as a goddess of love. But let’s take a closer look at what the word Óðr means. As a noun, it means “agitation, skill in poetry, poetry, intellect”.  As an adjective,, it means “furious, mad, terrible and even mentally disordered”. Many believe that Freya and the god Óðin have a relationship, and that is it he that she longs for. But is this just looking at the surface, and not delving any deeper into who Freya actually is and what she represents?
Freya was the one who taught the art of seiðr to the gods. She was the original witch. In the magic of seiðr, we often come across a trance practice of walking between the worlds or calling in the spirits. This work can fall into the category of an ecstatic practice, and therefore could it not be that Freya is seeking the ecstasy that comes with magic, poetry, divination, sexual activity and more? What she longs for is to break free from the bonds of “normality” and shows us just how to do so, to reclaim our own power.
Freya is known by many names, including Mardöll (shining of the sea), Hörn (flax), Gefn (the giving), Sýr (the sow, or to shield/protect) and Vanadis (the woman of the Vanir) among others. She is thought to be the witch, Gullveig, whom the Aesir lusted after so much that it began a war. She is also thought to be Mengelöd, a healing goddess atop Lyfjaberg. She is also known as Val-Freya, the chooser of the dead. For when the valiant warriors die, Freya gets first choice of them to come and live with her in her great hall, Sessrumnir, in Folkvang. Odin gets the leftovers. That’s something the television shows and movies neglect to mention.
A teacher of mine told me that Freya is not a goddess of love, per se, but rather a goddess that loves life. She is life itself. So why has she been reduced to a mere soundbite as a goddess of love, time and time again?
Well, Freya is not the first powerful woman to be belittled and demeaned in such a way. It is rife in our culture and society. At the time of writing this article, the misogyny of the British Parliament is coming into light, with over 50 cases of sexual misconduct by Members of Parliament currently being investigated. Our own Prime Minister as the then editor of The Spectator in 2001 printed a cover page article written by now Cabinet minister Michael Gove that deplores men doing “women’s work” such as changing nappies and housework while the woman maintains the position of wage earner. The article was titled: “”The male eunuch – what the wimpy British can learn from the chauvinism of the French”. In the US, the Supreme Court plans to overturn a case which gives women autonomy over their own bodies with regards to Pro-Choice rights. The patriarchy and the misogyny are not just something of the past, but are here and now affecting women all over the world.
We know that the Prose Edda was written by Snorri Sturluson, an historian, poet and politician. The old ways had passed on two hundred years earlier, and Iceland was firmly in the Christian camp. The Poetic Edda may have been written earlier, but both have roots in an oral tradition of poetry that was passed down from generation to generation. And we know how stories can change when a different storyteller is telling the tale. The sovereign goddesses of the Viking Age and earlier are now labelled as “witches” and “harlots”. This label has carried on for centuries. Look at Hilary Clinton, labelled “The Wicked Witch of the Left”, or Anne Boleyn even. Women in politics, whether it is with Republicans or Kings, face such slander when they rise to positions of power. It doesn’t just stop at the Middle Ages, oh no. It has carried through to the present day. Women have been objectified for so long, that it is entrenched in the social fabric of the present day. We have MPs watching porn in the Commons. The whore or witch label is still firmly entrenched upon women in order to keep them from their own power. And so it is with Freya. Or at least, it is still being attempted.
But we know differently. We can see beneath the slurs and slanders and the Christian patriarchal gloss that covers her stories. We know that she is an independent and sovereign entity unto herself. She is beholden to no one. She does as she pleases. And she is there for us. The lore tells us that Freya is the closest to humanity – she reaches out to us when we call for her. She is there for us. And just as we need to reinstate the divine feminine in our own societies as we see women’s rights and sovereignty being stripped away in ever-increasing numbers despite progressive movements, we need to take back the stories and the memories of Freya, The Lady. We need to reclaim her as something more than a goddess of love.
Freya is life, the pleasure of it and the quest for sovereignty of the self. Let’s change our current narrative so that it can truly reflect the nature of this great goddess. And in doing so, we might just change the world too.
 Gylfaginning 24
 Näsström, B. Freya: The Great Goddess of the North, Clock and Rose (2003) p. 63
 Zindra Andersson. Courses now held in Sweden and Germany: https://www.hexenkram.at/en/article/der-pfad-der-vlva-jahresausbildung-mit-zindra-andersson-2022-23/812a89fa-51f9-4d19-bacd-9e0974c1d578
What gets you through the hardest times in life?
The last two weeks have not been easy. The death of a beloved member of the family, combined with a breast cancer scare has led me to a new perspective on life, one that is filled with content and gratitude, even in the deepest moments of grief and fear.
I’ve always been grateful for my many blessings. But it’s really only upon reviewing each and every one, in a quiet and dark space, that you realise just how much you have, and how wonderful life is, even if you should die tomorrow. As I sat before my altar, the candles flickering and the incense curling around flames, I spent over twenty minutes going over all the amazing things that had happened in my life, all the experiences and people, the wonderful moments that make life worthwhile. Not knowing what the hospital appointment in two days’ time would bring, and stricken with grief over the death of a loved one the day before, still all these beautiful revelations filled my soul as the rain pattered against the windows in the darkness outside.
Some of these were:
I have walked with the reindeer herds in the Scottish Cairngorms.
I have watched the sun rise over the North Sea in ritual with friends.
I have watched the sun set over the Pacific Ocean while the wind sighed amongst the pines.
I have skied in -29 degree weather, with icicles on my eyelashes.
I have been canoeing in Sweden with my husband, with only our provisions for the week, a tent, the canoe and an arranged rendezvous point and time a week in advance. I have seen the burial mounds and carved stones and watched Freya’s falcon soar over the water and mountains.
I have felt the burning fire of Brighid in my heart, in my head and in my belly.
I have faced a blizzard in Trollheim, Norway, and been forced by the wights and jotun to turn back to safety.
I have known the comfort of a safe home, loving parents, patient husband and a good family.
I have loved and been loved by many cats, and given them good homes.
I have climbed the mountains of the Lake District, and watched the crows dive and dance on the thermals as the water glimmered below.
I have walked back in time in the stone circle of Avebury.
I have walked the woods of my childhood home, and know the paths and where they go, the eyes of the seen and unseen upon me.
I have swum in lakes that are filled-up volcanoes, and in rivers that tumble between the ancient granite mountains of the Laurentians.
For all these things and more, I am utterly grateful, amazed, filled with awe and wonder. If I should die tomorrow, at least I have done and known these things, and I am content.
My perspective has not changed, even with the all-clear from my hospital appointment on Monday (it was a cyst). In this time of deepest darkness, I can review what I have experienced, what I have known, and be glad for it. It makes all the small things pale in comparison, all the niggles and troubles that I may have had, with people and life in general. All these things really don’t matter at all. What matters are the things that bring on the contentment, the sense of fulfilment. All else is just the dross which can cloud judgement and perspective. No longer will I sweat the small stuff.
As we head into the darkest depths of the Winter Solstice, I wish you all very many blessings. Thank you so much for your support over the years, and I look forward to sharing, discussing and reviewing more of life’s wonderful moments with you. Please feel free to comment below, on what helps you get through the darkest times, and peace be with you all.
2017 is going to be the year where hopefully the words “voluntary simplicity” will be embraced by a wider range of people. I know that I have been incorporating voluntary simplicity in my own life for many years now, and that there is still many more ways in which I can follow a simpler, more efficient and ecologically sustainable way of being in the world. To do so, I am constantly informing myself, being conscious and mindful, trying to look at the bigger picture and taking personal responsibility for the world that I am leaving to our ancestors of the future. Now more than ever, we are at the crucial tipping point where we have to look beyond our own self-interest and look to the whole, to be more holistic in everything that we do.
I have incorporated Zen and Buddhism into my life for many years. For me, this brings a wisdom from both Eastern and Western philosophies that can blend together to form a holistic worldview and way of life. I feel that East and West need each other in order to understand the whole. Only when we understand the material as well as the spiritual can we bring them together to live fully in the here and now.
It’s important that simplicity, in terms of reducing consumerism, resources and living a better, cleaner more sustainable life, is voluntarily chosen. When it is not, we come across such suffering as poverty. Many people in the world do not have a choice to reduce, reuse, to choose. Here in the West, many of us can make choices, however small, in our daily lives that strive towards a more sustainable future for everyone. Where we can, we should voluntarily make that choice, in order to preserve a future for humanity. In doing so, we will also achieve a higher quality of life, and be able to truly flourish as a species. We are at that balance point, if we haven’t already gone too far, to either evolve into a higher consciousness and have that reflected in our actions, to come together as we realise that there is more to bind us together than tear us apart, or we can fall into divisiveness, fighting each other over the few differences and destroying not only ourselves, but a large portion of life on this planet in our downfall.
But what is simplicity? It is living in harmony with the world. Druidry is all about relationship, and this is also at the heart of simplicity. It is egalitarian. It sees through the illusions created by modern-day culture and society, the need to consume, the distractions of the media. It is about seeing what is really important in life: your family, your friends, your local environment. It is about living sustainably, so that our children and their children, as well as all the planet’s children, both human and non-human, have a good quality of life. It is about learning what is enough, rather than striving for more.
It is important to understand that simplicity is something that is for many of us a voluntary lifestyle. As stated above, many people lead lives in poverty and suffering because they do not have enough. We who do should learn just what is enough, and work towards achieving that understanding by informing and educating ourselves of our wants versus our needs. We must do this willingly, with an open heart. In doing so, we are also leading lives filled with compassion for all beings. It is not sacrifice, for we are only giving up the things that are unnecessary. Sacrifice is giving up the essentials. Many of thing things we consume or the activities we undertake are unnecessary. Many of them are distractions. Many of them only cause us to distance ourselves further from reality, each other and our place in the ecosystem. We are sacrificing ourselves by not following a simpler way of life.
We have to regard simplicity as a creative way of being in the world. Consumerism is not very creative. If we learn to live a simpler life, we rid ourselves of many distractions, thus enabling our own innate creativity to flourish. No longer are we kept under the pacifying drugs such a television, the media, advertising, and so on. We will embrace all that life has to offer, savouring each and every moment, willingly.
Gandhi said that we “choose to live simply so that others may simply live”. This is where we find compassion in a simpler life. This is where we see that we are a single thread among many in the tapestry or web of life. As human beings, homo sapien sapiens, the “beings who are aware that we are aware”, we understand the concept of a greater good for our species, and for the world as whole. Let’s use that knowledge wisely. Let’s create a world that we actually want to live in.
The concept of voluntary simplicity was begun by Richard Gregg, who was a student of Gandhi’s teachings. In 1936, he wrote about voluntary simplicity, stating that the purpose of life was to create a life of purpose. Let these words inspire you in your path towards voluntary simplicity. They can be a guiding beacon of light in a world of many illusory struggles and distractions. Create a life of purpose and meaning for yourself, using voluntary simplicity. It is the best way forward not only for your own life, but for the planet as a whole. Be creative. Druidry has a large focus on awen, on inspiration. Let us use that inspiration to live simpler lives filled with our creative potential to create a truly harmonious and sustainable way of life.
Mindfulness is a huge buzz word these past few years, and is a great tool in voluntary simplicity. We are living with intention, choosing our own path. We are conscious. We are aware that we are aware. Living an intentional life, as opposed to a reactive life, is one where we find a life of purpose. It really is that simple, yet is a challenging way to live. Being deliberate in everything requires us to evaluate and asses everything that we do, all our relationships: with other people, people we like and people we don’t like, with ourselves, with human and non-human animals, with the plant and mineral kingdoms. Like practicing Tai Chi, everything we do becomes a deliberate action, wholly understood and executed in a mindful manner, thus creating a beautiful flow.
Right now, we live in a world of crisis. Soon, the oil will become much more expensive, sea levels will rise, air quality will fall and the divide between those that have and those that have not will reach unprecedented proportions. We are currently living lives that sacrifice ourselves, each other and the planet. It can be utterly depressing when we view the world as such. Towards the end of 2016, an unusual pall of heaviness and depression hit me, as the weight of the suffering in the world fell all around me. I saw no hope for the future. However, voluntary simplicity has encouraged me that all is not lost. At this crisis point, we just might find profound opportunities to be creative, to be nourishing, to really change the way that we have been going the last few hundred years. This could be the unprecedented change necessary for our own survival. As the make or break point, this is where we could truly flourish as a species, to understand what has gone wrong, and to make amends right here, right now.
This requires personal responsibility. We cannot wait for governments to legislate for us. We cannot say that we will not undertake a simpler way of life until everyone else does. If we wait until everyone else decides to do this, or for it to be legislated, we could well be beyond the point of no return, where any action we undertake will already be too late. We must do this right now in our own lives, and let our lives be the example. We will not suffer because we are doing this, while others still live lives of disposable consumerism. We will not fall behind in the rat race. We will be living more intentionally, walking with a lighter footstep upon the planet, and knowing what really matters. Those who are not awakening to the benefit of voluntary simplicity are the ones who will suffer. Responsibility and duty have become dirty words in our society, and we must reclaim them for the very powerful values that they posses. We can change the world through everyday small actions. Like drops in a bucket, when we do so, even at tiny levels, it all adds up. We may not see the results straight away on a global scale, but we will see them in our own lives. We cannot wait any longer. We must take action now, in any way we can. No one will do this for us.
It’s also important to lay aside blame for the moment. If we participate in the world of consumerism, then we have only ourselves to blame. If we step outside of those bounds as much as possible, we will begin to understand the reasons why people do the things that they do, and in that understanding compassion will arise. For example, I know people whose kitchen cupboards are filled to overflowing. They don’t know what is in the back of those cupboards. There is food going to waste. But I also understand that there were many years where food was hard to come by for them, where every cent went to putting food on the table for their children. Full cupboards mean security. Though they might not be aware of this, I can certainly understand the behaviour, even if I don’t personally agree with it. I don’t blame them for creating the world that I live in, because I can change my own world in small and in large ways. If I lay all the blame for the world we live in on those who don’t share my own values, I can fall into an apathy and sense of separation from the rest of my fellow human beings that has absolutely no purpose or benefit in saving this planet or creating a new sustainable way of living. Instead, I will only live with anger and contempt, instead of working with compassion and integrity.
Every decision matters. The food we eat, the clothes we wear, the jobs we undertake and more. We are not powerless. We must remember this. It is essential to living a more simple way of life. We cannot change society until we change ourselves. Our biggest and often most important vote that we have in our consumerist society is how we spend our money. Tell the companies that you don’t want their latest product induced by media to increase low self-esteem by not participating in what they are trying to create. Instead, live a life of meaning, of intentional and mindful experience. The quality of life will increase, as opposed to the quantity of material goods. You will find creative ways of living. It is possible.
When we discover the things that really matter in life, life really matters. This is my understanding of voluntary simplicity.
I’ve just had a lovely two week vacation, not only from work but also from my computer. It’s essential, in my opinion, to detach one’s self from the constant noise and hub of media and communication, for however long a period, whether it’s a day or two weeks, a month or altogether. I’ve known people who have given up Facebook altogether, and been much happier for it. I can honestly say that I didn’t miss it at all on my two week vacation (no social media, no emails or online communication), and I actually dreaded going back on there today to check for messages. I know that I will be spending a lot less time on there from now on, as the pull and tug of getting into other people’s stories just isn’t all that appealing anymore. Heck, if I could give it up completely I would, but that would be marketing suicide for a mostly self-promoted, self-employed author.
Having two weeks to myself, spending time with myself and my family, has enabled me to see more clearly the stories that really matter to me. While most of social media is filled with noise, things that don’t really matter (alongside really great cat videos), it also has its benefits, such as putting us in touch with high school friends, keeping us up to date on our nephews’ first day at school, and so on. I do Facebook and Twitter, because I like to keep in touch with my family and friends that I physically can’t see, being 3,000 miles away across the Atlantic, as well as feeling obligated for business reasons. But the amount of noise on there is staggering.
We can get so lost in other people’s stories, in the noise that social media produces. Stories that are inconsequential to ours. Stories that have no relevance at all to our daily lives. Stories that have no meaning full stop. We fill our mind with them, drowning out the sound of our story, of our own life, or vainly trying to compare ours to this fictional recreation that social media has produced, which is entirely inaccurate to say the least. I am not my Facebook profile or pages, not by a long shot. Neither are my friends or family. It is a narrow window into one’s life, should one be honest about it, but only provides a miniscule view of the reality that is the whole.
My story is important, if only to myself. But I have to listen to it, in order to be able to change the story, should I so choose. While there are many external factors that help to decide how this story ends, there are also a lot that are completely within my control, if I am able to hear them. I feel an even deeper connection with myself than I had before, because I stopped filling my brain every morning with pictures of what other people had for breakfast, who’s pissed off for whatever reason, etc. I stopped the constant influx of other people’s stories. I feel more me.
I don’t have a smartphone that enable me to check emails and social media wherever I am. I have a mobile phone that lives in my car should I break down. I do all my emails and social media early in the morning, to get it out of the way so that I can get on with my work and my day. I honestly can’t imagine constantly checking on a smartphone for emails and Facebook; that thought is just too horrific for someone as unsocially mediated as myself. What little time I did spend on there, I now realised was for the most part a waste of time. And I haven’t got time to waste. There are weeds to be pulled in the garden, walks to be taken, words to be written, cats to be played with, friends to visit, life to live.
Don’t be lured into the dulling effects of social media. Don’t be pulled into other people’s stories so that your own is neglected. Stay in touch, but don’t be a slave to social media or online communication. Your life is yours to live, so truly live it, don’t let it pass you by in a blur of emails or status updates. And above all, remember and rediscover your story.
This is a reblog from my channel at SageWoman for Witches and Pagans at PaganSquare. To read the full article, click HERE.
The grain harvest is being collected in the fields around my home. The usually still and silent evening air is filled with the sound of combine harvesters, accentuated every now and then with the hoot of a tawny owl. Lammas is upon us.
Standing on a footpath that divides two large fields, one side filled with barley just reaped, the other with wheat standing pale golden in the sun, I raise my hands to the blue sky and give my thanks for all that nourishes us. I walk a ways into the cut field, the harsh stubs of barley amid the dry, sandy earth and place my hands upon the soil. Thank you for your blessing, may the land be nourished even as it nourishes us. Hail and thanks be to the goddess. I then move to stand on the edge of the wheat field, allowing its song of potential to flow through me. I brush the bent heads filled with seed and say another prayer of thanks.
This is a wonderful time of year, when the songs of the ancestors flow through the rural heartlands of Britain. Though the way we harvest is different, still there is that cycle of growth, of planting and harvesting. After the long hot days of midsummer, the lengthening evenings are welcome, bringing cooler air. Though the dog days may still lie ahead of us, there is something different in the air at this time of year. The scents have changed, the leaves are dark green and heavy, the foliage beginning to choke out and fall back.
I love this time of year. The birds have fledged, and the muntjac deer are at the end of their mating season. The stag barks occasionally for his hind on the other side of the hedge, and this year’s badger family come to visit every night to eat the fallen birdseed from our table and the peanuts that we put out. The sidhe are active at their special spots, over by the burial mound as they are at each of the fire festivals. It is a time of celebration, though there is still much work to be done…
Continue to the full article HERE…
The trees are almost in full leaf now, with only the ash and aspen yet to join in the greening. It’s been an odd Spring, with the oak trees in leaf before the hawthorn has come into flower here in Suffolk. Only now are the first blooms of the May tree coming out, and with it the signs that herald for me the coming season. The warm days have certainly been a blessing, and the light rain that falls today is equally welcome after long hot days of full sunshine and cool sea breezes.
It’s at this time of year that I am reminded of just how important trees are to me, not just in their life-giving properties but also in their spiritual presence. The deciduous trees with their lush foliage always bring a smile to my face, and after a long winter of sleep to see the beech tree at the bottom of my garden joining in the party that the younger birch trees have started fills my heart with joy. The grass is lush and green, and everything just feels so very much alive. I welcome the greening with all my heart and soul.
Trees are magnificent teachers. They are so much larger than we are, both spiritually and physically. They remind us of what it means to live a life in service to the whole, to live a life filled with integration and harmony, sustainable and at peace. Trees teach us of communion and integration, both at the deep root levels of our soul and reaching out towards the heavens of our soul’s awakening. They teach us of symmetry and asymmetry, of co-operation and anarchy. They are a legion of souls across this land, swaying in the wind, living their intention and benefiting all those around them by doing so. There is no sense of “I” with a tree; rather, it can instigate a better sense of “You” (or “yew”, pun intended).
When we develop a relationship with trees, we think about ourselves less, rather than think less of ourselves. We are reminded that we are a part of an ecosystem, that the ecology of our spirituality is all important to our everyday lives. This ecology is absolutely integral to who we are as a species, and part of a place and environment, as part of life on this planet. We cannot separate this ecology in any shape or form. It is in everything that we do.
We are not far removed from our cousins who still live in the trees. We’re all just monkeys with car keys, after all.
While the winds howl outside as winter lets us know that just because we have celebrated Imbolc, it doesn’t yet mean Spring is here, I have taken the last two weeks to rest in solitude. Staying home, organising and having a big clear-out, cleaning and simplifying has been a challenging fortnight. After the big family gatherings and the busy pace of the Yuletide holidays, Imbolc is often a quiet time for reflection. Being thrust into solitude after weeks spent with happy, noisy family members can be quite a shock to the system, but there are lessons to be learned with everything in life.
I give thanks that I have a home, a beautiful home that shelters me from the winter’s rages. As I lie in bed and hear the wind whipping around the house, the rain lashing against the window panes I remember that there are many who do not have this luxury, both human and non-human. As I walk outside in my garden, seeing the snowdrops and the crocus, the daffodils and the hellebore in flower I am reminded of the quiet, elegant beauty that exists even as the torrential storms pass overhead. The white serpent energy is slowly stirring in the ground beneath my feet, connecting all the areas of these sacred isles in a web of existence upon whose threads we can travel, if we dare. The hearth flame is utterly sacred, whether it is candles burning upon the mantlepiece or a cozy fire crackling in the evening. Being utterly awake to all these things reminds me of the constant stream of blessings and the sacredness of everything. There is nothing mundane in this world.
Chanting prayers to Brighid upon rising, giving thanks as the sun shines upon a new day, singing songs to the land as I dig into the earth of my garden, I know that there is no separation between what is sacred and what is not. I have come to realise that reciting little chants and prayers throughout the day helps to remind me of the sacredness of each and every moment, from preparing and eating food to cleaning the floors and windows, to laying myself down each night in the shelter of my home, my husband and cats with me. Inspired by the charms and chants, blessings and prayers found in works such as the Carmina Gadelica has led me to create my own, which is an incredibly fun thing to do in and of itself. But when applied to everyday life, singing my prayers throughout the day I really feel an ever deeper connection to the gods, the ancestors and the spirits of place. I can’t take them for granted anymore.
It brings a whole new meaning to living a charmed life.
Blessings of Imbolc!
It has been a mild winter here in the UK, and though where I live in Suffolk we haven’t had any floods, the ground is wet and squishy (where it isn’t sandy) and everything is looking forward to a good drying out. The little lawn out back has done its usual shift from grass to moss, and is utterly delightful underfoot (though wet). Deer and pheasants are regular visitors, especially now that food is becoming scarce and we put out birdseed, apples and bread daily. My husband did the RSPB Birdwatch yesterday, and we had a good number of different species to record and submit.
The land is stirring slowly from its light slumber. Last weekend at Druid College we noticed the blackthorn is in flower already, and we had two daffodils over the winter solstice on the south slope of our garden. The buds are on the birch and apple trees, the crocuses are poking through, and colour is slowly returning to the green and brown palette of winter.
As we were out walking yesterday, we felt the sun upon our backs, stronger and warmer than it had been for a long time. The scents from the ground rose to greet our noses with a wonderful sharp, earthy smell. The birdsong is changing, and the badger mums are out in full force foraging to keep their bellies full and provide milk for their young.
It’s a soft time of year, when things happen slowly, unlike the Spring Equinox, when everything seems to happen at lightning speed. We awaken groggy from our slumber, and move with care, taking our time and not rushing anything. This is the goddess Brighid’s time, a deity of infinite patience and understanding, of mindfulness and co-operation.
Tonight I shall be holding vigil after sunset, and on the morrow honouring Her with all that I am. Having spent the last three years getting to know Her better, a shift in our relationship seems nigh, and I eagerly anticipate working with Her guidance and inspiration on an even deeper level. She is the land of Britain itself, the green paddocks and pastures, the brown heathland, the dark forests and wind-swept moors. She is the serpent energy lying just beneath the surface of the earth, stirring it awake with her sinuous movement. She is the holy well and sacred flame. She is inspiration. She is the adder basking in the sun, the ewe and the lamb, the cattle that is so much a part of our history.
I know not what this year holds, but I do know that I walk it with Brighid.
I kindle my soul with the flame of Brighid:
Flame of courage, flame of joy.
Blessings of the deep well be upon me:
Drops of awen on my lips, on my work.
May Brighid guide me in my endeavours
This day and every day.
I lay myself upon the anvil of Brighid;
May my soul be tempered by experience,
May my heart be strengthened with compassion,
May my thoughts be shaped by love,
May I walk forth anew with the blessings of Brighid,
The Forger and the Flame.
Today, I just lost a hero. Music, the world, has just lost a hero. A true artist in every sense of the word, David Bowie has been an inspiration and will continue to be for centuries to come.
I’ve been in love with him for nearly thirty years now. I love his mind, his art, his music, his philosophy, his articulation. He was always one to express his art for art’s sake inasmuch as he could. Yes, he made mistakes. Yes, he picked himself back up again. He followed his inspiration, treading deeper water, finding those edges and always peering out beyond them, sometimes leaping over them into the great unknown.
My sadness is mixed with my joy that I was able to follow his work in this shared lifetime, right here, right now. My condolences to his friends and family, my heart reaches out to fans all over the world rocked by the news of his death.
May we all continue to question everything, to express our inspiration in thought-provoking ways. May we follow our hearts, think with our heads, and allow the love of this life to take us on amazing journeys. And may we never play to the gallery.