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What Druidry Is Not…

abbeyFor me, Druidry is not a white-robed affair. Crawling under low scrub pines and getting inside secret places of gorse bushes where only the deer trod, or standing on the seashore in the howling rain, or in the heart of the forest with the badgers and mosquitos – it just doesn’t work.

Druidry is not clean. It’s not an exercise only for the mind. It requires experience to turn what you have learned into real wisdom. It’s not just book-learning. Until you get out there and commune with the landscape, it’s not felt in the soul. It cannot live in the head. It will get you dirty, wet, hot, sweating, cold, scratched, bitten. It is dirty fingernails and peering under bushes. It is a return to the curiosity and wonder of the child, yet it is not child-like. It is deep learning, deep experience.

Druidry is not a male-centred religion or spirituality, nor is it female-centric. It is about equality and egality, anarchic and subject first and foremost to the teachings of nature.

It not just about standing in stone circles waving swords and reading off of sheets of paper with a group of other people, the media and tourists alike taking photographs. It is doing work in the heart of where you live, often without thanks or regard of any kind. It is giving back to the land, honouring the cycles and working for the community – and by community, I mean each and every living thing in that area wherein you live and call home, not just human. It is not about power and ego, but about communion and deep relationship. It is about dropping ideas of the self to better fit in the landscape.

It is not about writing loads of books and offering courses, achieving kudos through output, students and media. It is about the sharing of inspiration, acknowledging the inspiration of others and allowing the awen the flow through you in whatever way you see fit. One may be a teacher, or an author, or someone with whom the media interact – but they are not a spokesperson for all Druidry, nor a guru of any sort, and have no monopoly on wisdom. There is little room in deep Druidry for ego.

There are no titles, save those bestowed either by a person on him or herself, or by a group of people following a shared path and learning. These titles are not relevant to all Druids – just to the person or the group. Claiming to be an arch-druid of so and so has no bearing on those who are outside of the group. There is no central authority in Druidry.

Druidry is not about having things – it is about doing things. It is being utterly mindful of personal and global consumerism. It is about looking at everything that you do, everything that you have, everything that you take and everything that you give back. It is not about doing the bare minimum. It is about sacrifice, of time and ignorance, of ego and of desire. It is about constant re-evaluation of ethics, values and honour. It is about constant learning.

Druidry is not about attaining levels of initiation or ordination within learning, however. Courses and instruction may guide us, may open our minds and shatter pre-conceived notions, expanding awareness – but they are not there to gratify the ego through the bestowing of grade or rank. Druidry is also not about a specific point in time, where to call oneself a Druid means to have studied for twenty-some years, learned the genealogies of kings, etc. The Druidry of the past is not the Druidry of today. The Druidry of a small frame in time within the past and from a small, specific region is most certainly not the Druidry of today. Its wisdom can guide us, but it is just one window in a mansion of many halls. The Classical Druids were the Classical Druids – we are not, nor can ever be, Classical Druids.

Druidry is not just an exploration of the self. It goes beyond the self, to a life lived in service to others.

These are just a few things of what Druidy is not.

So what is Druidry?

It is allowing the wisdom of the oak to guide you in all that you do.

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Pagan Relationship

Paganism is all about relationship, and is central to my Druid path. Everything is interconnected – we simply could not exist were it not for the countless forms of other life on this planet. All life, in scientific circles, came from single-celled organisms that evolved into life as we know it; we all, everything on this planet, have a common ancestor.

Yet we are constantly bombarded by the dualistic thinking that has so plagued our species for many, many years. We often feel separated from nature, from the world, from other human beings, from our ancestors. It is often reinforced through marketing, various theologies and psychology, in most cases to ensure that there is repeat business, power and normalisation.

How many of us have come across the “food chain” concept when we were at school? Humans at the top, able to consume and control all beneath us. Whoever came up with this concept has not slept a night out in Canada, where the bears or cougars can get you, or swam in an ocean that has sharks, or paddled a river with crocodiles, or suffered from a debilitating or deadly virus. We are, most definitely, not the top of any chain whatsoever. We all become food for something, in time, whether it is before or after our physical death.

We are, however, all connected, and it is through personal relationships with place that the Pagan creates their worldview, learning from the land upon which they live, the ancestors and the gods. There is no such thing as a “thing” – we cannot look at anything (pardon the pun) in such regards. When we use the term “thing” we can often objectify it, not giving it the inherent right to existence that animism honours. Many native traditions use the term “brother”, “sister”, “grandmother” or “grandfather” when speaking of a life form that is non-human, whether it be non-human animal, the moon, the sea, a tree, the sky. In that way, relationship is acknowledged and inherent respect is created. A community is created, an ecosystem in every sense of the word. We are all descended from a few ancestors. We are all family. We have the stuff of stars in our blood and in our bodies, minerals found in distant galaxies.

As Pagans, we have to remember this in everything that we do. We have to ensure that we are not falling into the traps of dualism, marketing, secular culture. We have to see the beauty and awe in everything, and live a life that is filled with awareness of what lives and what dies, what threads connect us to the world. These threads will then shimmer with profound awen, where soul touches soul and relationship, true relationship, sacred relationship, is created.

 

 

 

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Lessons in Pain

These last three months have been quite challenging, and I rarely talk about it, but today I would like to share some views on dealing with physical pain.

I have had rheumatoid arthritis for about twenty years now. Usually it’s just a day or so of aching hands and swollen fingers, but this year it has been different. At the end of May, a “trapped nerve” in my hip rendered me nearly incapable of walking – even sitting was painful. After a month long recovery (and a good osteopath) we managed to work it out, only for me to experience the worst arthritic flare up I have ever experienced. This lasted nearly a month.

Painful hands, fingers so swollen, sharp aching elfshots running down the fingers. Unable to make a fist or hold a coffee cup with one hand. Hands just held on my lap, tingling, tired. Unable to write very well with a pen or pencil. Typing was difficult, but better than writing. Not sleeping due to pain.

When that flare up died down at the beginning of this month, my back then went out. Now, this too isn’t a rare occurrence – I have fallen off too many horses in my lifetime, and it’s always a weak point. But this time was different. This time the pain was so severe my legs were shaking, I felt dizzy and sick. I have a high threshold for pain, and this tested that limit.

The back is now on the mend, and I am able to sit here at my computer and type this. I can only sit for about 15 minutes – but that is better than yesterday, by a whole five minutes. Little steps.

Pain is not just a physical challenge, but a mental one as well. It can so easily lead to depression, our human minds unable to see beyond the day when the pain will ever stop. Luckily for me, right now I know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but for those whom constant pain is their life, and for whom there is no end in sight, I have the utmost sympathy and empathy. I have come to terms with the fact that as I age, this too may be my plight in life.

Pain can be a great teacher though. It can teach us of our limits. It heightens our awareness, if we are not pushing it away. Being in the moment with your pain is the last thing your mind wants to do, but may just be the best thing you can do at that moment.

Pain also teaches us to slow down. This past week I have not been able to sit upright for five days. I’ve learned a whole new way of looking at things – from a horizontal perspective. I’ve learned patience. I’ve learned the resolve needed in order to heal.

My husband set out our inflatable camping bed in the backyard on Sunday, so that I could go outside and lie down (I tried on the grass, but needed cushioning for my hip). I spent all afternoon lying on my side or on my back, underneath the beach tree that shelters my altar, communing with the tree and learning lessons of what it means to stay in one place, to be unable to move. Glorious insights, and the blessings of the world around me filled me with such awe. I always knew trees were great teachers.

The pain is now coming back, into my lower spine, and I will now be signing off, to lie down and let the muscles and spine stretch out again. Learning, listening, patience and endurance. Lessons in pain.

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Reblog: Wonder on the Wing, from Holy Wild

Here is a short excerpt from Alison Leigh Lily’s blog, Holy Wild, which deeply resonated with me. You can read the full article HERE.

Sometimes the very concept of “wildlife management” seems problematic to me. The desire to have a positive impact on the environment can be twisted into the beguiling belief that “technological progress will save us” from the consequences of our past and we need only sit back and enjoy our supremacy. Sometimes I think what we really need is a bit more human management: more self-restraint, more humility in the face of natural forces whose consequences we don’t (perhaps never can) fully understand.

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World Suffering – Thich Nhat Hanh

This little gem came as a great reminder today, when the suffering of the world threatened to overwhelm me.  Bursting into tears as I watched on the BBC news children’s toys scattered in the rubble of the Gaza bombings,, their bodies being loaded together into the mortuary. Rude people at the village shop blocking other people’s cars, and making them wait until they finish shopping to move their car, even after the person has asked them to politely to move.  Loud, overbearing people in the bays next to you at the driving range.  The obnoxious amount of money spent on the World Cup Football in Brazil while people starve in the streets.

Thich’s words were a welcome reminder to find the beauty, and to nourish ourselves in order to better serve the world, in a world filled with suffering – not to be overwhelmed by it, but to find the beauty to carry on regardless. To find a community as well, of like-minded souls, who can inspire you on your journey through life.  To be out in nature, and to see the wonder and live with the awe of a child again.

Then, you will be better able to serve the world, instead of submitting to the suffering and the grief, the rage and the injustice.  Returning to the centre, finding peace and being peace is all that matters.

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Right, Wrong and the Self

Working with thoughts on the self, and release of the self these last few years (even more so since the publication of my first book, Zen Druidry) has been the focus of my studies and journey on the path of Druidry, yet has lately become the centrepoint in my vision of my own personal Druidry, ethics and the act of living with awareness.

We can appear, online at least, to be very focused on our individual selves, even to the point of megalomania. Social media comes from an individual’s personal viewpoint, or a company’s, a philosophy – it is an entity in and of itself. As an author it can appear even worse – we write, constantly, sorting out issues, celebrating life in all its glory with words spread across the screen if we decide to share those ideas and inspiration into the wider world.

Yet in my personal, living practice it is quite different. Yes, I do think a lot – but it is thoughts on the dissolution of the self in order to greater experience the world around me. Ironic, writing a blog post about it, but there you go.

Considering ethics within Paganism, there are many levels of “rightness” and “wrongness”, both morally, legally, socially and culturally. What matters most in our current culture here in Britain is legality, with social and cultural repercussions following the legal ones in order of importance (in secular circles) to consider. Morality can kind of get a back seat on this ride, all too sadly. However, what I’ve been thinking about is right and wrong and the ego, the sense of self that is always grasping to have its own expression heard, justifying itself and seeking validation any which way it can (yes, this blog is an irony in that, as well).

The most poignant thing that I have realised is that even though there is right and wrong, it doesn’t actually make anyone better if they are right, or worse if they are wrong. Just because someone is right doesn’t make them a better person, a better human being, nor vice versa. Even in a legal context, even if someone is found wrong, guilty of whatever transgression, it doesn’t make us better – it just makes us legally right.

Legally right may not even mean morally or ethically right. As a species, I don’t think we can actually live without a concept of right and wrong, as it is so ingrained into our psyche. That spark of human consciousness overrides the concept with the constant striving of the ego, the neocortical part of the brain laying down all manner of experience, assumptions, judgements, memories, possible outcomes etc. It’s often said that we instinctively know right from wrong, but does right and wrong have anything to do with instinct, or it is a purely human construct?

I know when someone is doing something wrong in my own social context, in my culture and society. I can condemn their behaviour as wrong, as something that needs to be addressed in order to fulfil our social contract with each other. I can report abusive behaviour, I can write letters of protest to local planning authorities, I can sign petitions and raise money to benefit those in need. All of these things do not make me a better person. They just make me, me.

The man who kicks his dog, I can report to the RSPCA. That doesn’t make me better than him though. The woman who abuses her child, I can also report to the authorities – that doesn’t make me better than her in any way. I may be right in thinking that these things are wrong, but it doesn’t make me a better person for not doing these things.

Ideas of right and wrong often include a judgemental factor that makes us feel that we are better than others. That is the striving of the ego for validation in any form, its screaming claws inside our head hoping for some sort of recognition. What we need to do is to be right, but not have the need to feel right, to feel better for being right.

In taking my inspiration, learning from the natural world around me, I am currently seeing things from a very different perspective. In a world where there is no human notion of right or wrong, and allowing my sense of self to dissolve slowly into that environment, whole new ideas on the nature of the human existence come blazing to the fore.

Stopping that chattering, self-centred mind to actually be in the world is time very well spent. Each time you do, you hear and learn more about the world, thus better defining your place within it. If you begin to lose even that, your sense of self, you come back less and less – the ego becomes smaller and smaller, and the true self has the opportunity to shine through.

Eventually, I hope to never come back at all.

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Visiting Sun Rising Natural Burial Ground

The car park was empty as we pulled in, closing the gate behind us. The weather all weekend had been typically variable, with bright sunshine and threatening clouds scattered across the horizon. We went to the office to see if anyone was there, and found it empty and closed. The wind carried the scent of rain and wet newly mown hay.

We made our way to the main path that lead to the roundhouse, which stood beautiful and serene, blending in with the landscape, made as it was of natural materials and covered in climbing roses that offered a delicious, soft scent in the late afternoon breeze. Around the structure were graves that were covered in wildflowers, with trees planted on the right-hand section where, in time, a little wooded area would grow. The view was simply breath-taking, allowing the eye to roam for miles across the gently rolling countryside, settling on the far hills in the distance with the songs of life and death and the continuous cycle carried between them in their undulating energy.

The calm energy and serenity of the place filled the soul with such exquisite delight, showing that in death there is beauty, as in life. The living and the dead, in the constant process of change, of transition, their songs blending in with one another, were held in each other’s embrace Clearly this is place where ancestors are honoured, not only those who lie newly buried in its soil, but also those who worked the land for thousands of years before, and those ancestors of tradition who uphold the sacredness of their duties to the land, their gods and the ancestors.

There was a war memorial off to one side, and at the bottom of the first field a newly built pond, which was filling up nicely, long grasses waving in the wind and the late afternoon sunlight sparkling upon the water’s surface. The bees in the apiary were hard at work not far away, providing honey for their young and also a small income through the excess for the burial ground itself.

We said our prayers for the dead and for the living, held within that sacred space and honouring all that there is with all that we were. It was so heartening, so inspiring to see what a few dedicated people could do, in a life utterly devoted to their principles and their gods, the ancestors and the world in which they live. It was simplicity and truth, shaped in the landscape that holds those in their new transformation, their new reality within the rich soil of this land, and inspiring those who still walk upon it. It was pure awen.

Read SunRising’s blog HERE

Visit SunRising’s website HERE

 

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While out and about today…

Out on the half mile stretch of road on the heath leading up to the village, bright yellow rubber gloves on and hauling rubbish bags, I am picking up litter. Towards the end of the work, a car pulls in by mine, already loaded with two full bags. Chap steps out.
“Community service?” he says.
“Nope. Voluntary.” I reply.
A look of utter perplexity overwhelms his face, and he is lost for words. After several moments of awkward silence, he manages to form his thoughts. “Excuse me, but… why?”
A smile crosses my face. “Because I love this place.”
The look of incomprehension has not left his face. Another pause. “Nick ****. Local Wildlife Trust Manager. And you are?”

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Unconditional Love

In the Goddess Temple in Glastonbury this June, as I sat down to find some space after an interview with Philip Carr-Gomm for Druidcast, a lady approached me and asked if I would write a blog post about unconditional love. She said she was having trouble with this concept, and I said I would do my best. I have been thinking about this matter for a few weeks now, mulling it over and letting it settle in my mind before putting words to paper (or a computer screen, as it were – it just seems less poetic).

First, we have to define just what love is. The Oxford English dictionary defines it thus:
• A strong feeling of affection
• A great interest and pleasure in something
• A person or thing that one loves

A difficult one; look at several other dictionaries and you’ll notice that even they cannot seem to agree on what love is first and foremost. It is such a widespread and subjective concept that changes depending upon culture, religious or philosophical points of view. In an Eastern tradition such as Buddhism, love is more than affection, pleasure or something that one loves. Indeed, in most traditions it is more than that: love is peace; love is understanding; love is compassion; love is life itself.

For me, love is all these things. That is why it is so difficult to define. When considered in this context, love is, in itself, unconditional – or is it? Can you put a condition on the notion of peace, of understanding, of compassion, of life itself?

In a way, yes. Throughout the world, peace, understanding and living are kept under certain conditions in order to benefit the greater good. Laws and customs in every society are created for the supposed benefit of all – is this love? Laws and customs are a condition for keeping the peace, yet when we consider things such as genital mutilation, are we acting on a condition that brings about love?

Reining it back in for a moment, in most Eastern traditions love equals compassion. So, what is compassion? I’ve talked about the nature of compassion for years on this blog, considering it from every angle possible. Compassion is trying to see the bigger picture, to see that everyone suffers, and to alleviate suffering, both yours and the world at large. This compassion does not mean that you then become a doormat, however. The Dalai Lama states in his essay on “Compassion and the Individual”:

“[w]hen a problem first arises, try to remain humble and maintain a sincere attitude and be concerned that the outcome is fair. Of course, others may try to take advantage of you, and if your remaining detached only encourages unjust aggression, adopt a strong stand. This, however, should be done with compassion, and if it is necessary to express your views and take strong countermeasures, do so without anger or ill-intent.”

In this quote, compassion comes about with a concern that the outcome is fair. Fairness is, in itself, yet another subjective concept that means so many different things to so many different people. It would appear that we’re already on shaky ground before we’ve even gotten through to the concept of unconditional love. However, in the “without anger or ill-intent” there seems to be a key.

If we do not harbour anger or ill-intent towards anyone, is this the gift that unlocks the door to unconditional love? It just might be. I may disagree with political parties, companies, individual persons, but I do not wish them harm. I may hate most of David Cameron’s policies, but I would not wish him personally to come to harm. I may write petitions, raise money or volunteer, protest his policies; I may express my point of view with words and conviction, strong in my personal belief of what is right. I can do all of this without ill-intent. Without anger? Sometimes, but not all the time. For me, anger and ill-intent are two very separate issues.

So what is unconditional love? Is it living in a world without ill-intent towards other beings, human and non-human? I’m not sure that quite covers it – loving someone and not wishing them harm are not exactly the same thing. Is anger here the key to unlocking this further mystery?

What is anger? I’ve pondered this one for years, and have come to the conclusion that anger has its roots in fear. I become angry because I fear my personal rights are compromised. I become angry because I fear for the safety of a bluebell wood. I become angry because I fear for the well-being of a friend who suffers. This anger is directed, focused into non-violent action and activism. It is fear that is transformed into energy for what I perceive to be the greater good. Like everything, it is subjective. Is this anger all that bad then, considering the focus? Looking and understanding fear helps me to use anger and to understand anger in others. When someone shouts abuse at me, I understand their fear. It doesn’t mean I have to like it, but I understand it. With Thich Nhat Hanh’s concept of “Engaged Buddhism”, one can work to counter that fear and anger and stand up for what they believe is right, while maintaining an awareness of the whole.

There is a saying, “love means never having to say you’re sorry”. This is not to mean that one should behave badly, without thought or care for others – quite the contrary. It means that one should live a life that causes the least amount of suffering for others, so that you will never have to apologise in the first place. It’s a nice thought, and one to work towards. It carries the notion of personal responsibility for all actions.

In my opinion, it is all that we can do to become aware of our emotions, of our fears and our passions and work for the greater good in all that we do. I can look to my gods for inspiration.
With regards to Druidry, it is often said that we do not submit to our gods, for to do so would destroy us. In Druidry, anger is a god. Love is equally a god. Should we therefore not submit to love, either? More questions…

We may have to take a strong stand in our convictions at times. We have to look at the nature of love, of anger and of fear and understand the currents of these energies to better understand their influence in our lives. Thinking about these energies more often than not brings up more questions, making us quest ever deeper for the awen that will show us the way to peace.

Perhaps love is more akin to the concept of animism, which Emma Restall Orr defines as seeing the inherent value in all things. We do not need conditions to make this idea work. We value everything, no matter what, and work with our gods to better understand the nature of all being and all beings, questing the awen that will allow us to tap into that well and drink deeply.

So is this unconditional love? Or is it a case of only if when there is absolutely no fear, can there be unconditional love. Is that humanly possible? I’m not so sure yet – I’m still thinking about it. Is animism the inspiration that will unlock the mystery of unconditional love?

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Midsummer

Ah – midsummer. I remember when I first moved to these isles over 16 years ago from Canada – it was a cold and wet summer, and I wondered just what on earth I had done. And yet, the light fascinated me at that time of year, and later at the winter solstice, the darkness. It was so much more than where I grew up – the twilight of midsummer and the barest space of total darkness, the unrelenting darkness that forces you to face it head on in winter. The difference in latitude was a great teacher – (Montreal, 45.5N, London 51.5N).

 
The current is running strong in the British Isles right now. As I go to my outdoor altar every evening, laying my hands upon the soft, mossy earth I feel the white dragon that has risen to the surface and is dancing in the ethereal currents of energy crisscrossing the land. It is a time of great joy, of celebration.

 
This is a time of year to be proud of what you have done so far in the year’s cycle. But beware – the carpet can be pulled from underneath you, and the harvest may not quite be as expected. For this brief moment, however, we can perform this wonderful balancing act, in a liminal time before the tide tips over and we tumble headlong with it. It is important to be proud of what you have achieved – it is too easily done to become prideful.

 
Stand and feel the earth beneath your feet. Feel the serpent energy rising, the dragons of these lands, filling your soul with this time of year. Reflect on your achievements, and state them aloud under the eye of the sun. Confirm for yourself the good that you have done for the world, for your family, your community, for yourself. Let the sun’s rays witness this confirmation.

 
On Saturday I will be reflecting on the good investment of my solar panels – this time of year it is especially rewarding to know that the longer daylight hours are helping others in the village, ie. local businesses. I will take a bow for the two books published (and doing well), and the third and fourth on their way. I will applaud the money that has been raised for various charities through a lot of hard work in fundraising, events and suchlike over the course of the year. For this brief moment, I will take pleasure in my achievements, and remind myself that this is why I do the work I do, and live the life that I live. I will remember this moment in the darker times, to guide me through them and out the other side.

 
And then I will immerse myself once again, into the landscape, losing that sense of self and becoming a part of it, letting it guide me, teach me, blend with my blood and my bones with the whispers of the ancestors blessing it all.