reflection

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Reflections on 2019

I type this as the sun sets on one of the last days of the year. The mist is rolling in, the sky changing from blue to yellow to pink. The pine trees stand tall, silhouetted against the fading light. A flock of pigeons fly across the thin crescent of the new moon. A hush is descending on the little village, and the candles are lit in my home.

Looking out the window at the hazy purple trees in the distance, their bare branches still in the evening light, I reflect upon the year that has just gone. My dreams have been strange of late, perhaps due to illness, perhaps due to the mental ruminations that winter and the closing of the year bring. I’m tired, physically and mentally. I’m just getting over a nasty cold, and my husband is currently fighting it. The cats are doing well. The family back in Canada are doing well, apart from one tiding of bad news and ill health. But we are strong, we will meet all challenges head-on, staying positive whilst being realistic. I thank my family heartily for teaching me these lessons. I am too easily blown by the wind, feeling it all. Their Dutch practicality is my steady anchor when the storms of emotion hit hard.

So too is this beautiful land where I live, and I give thanks to the trees and the sky, the sea and the heath, the deer and the owls that keep me company day and night. Even as I long for my familial home on a daily basis, this beauty right here, before my eyes in this very moment is what is real. This is what I must engage with, this is what I must feel; otherwise, I am simply a ghost in this landscape.

I am making friends with the muntjac deer who visit me every evening, expecting their peanuts. There are two males, Douglas and the smaller one, Jeffrey. Sometimes Doug’s partner comes with her two children, one a year old faun and one born late this summer. I do not yet know their names. Occasionally, Freya the fallow deer visits, her long legs moving her gracefully across the lawn, her carriage always like a queen. The wren sometimes sits on the picnic table when I am washing the dishes, giving me a wonderful look at his tiny body, so round and soft.

So what has this year brought? It’s been quite a calm and steady year. The first half was filled with the final work and then anticipation over the release of my new book, The Book of Hedge Druidry. Summer and early autumn was filled with promotional work, and hearing the reviews that were coming in. The Book of Hedge Druidry went to No. 1 in its category on Amazon many times over the last six months, for which I was overjoyed. I give my thanks to everyone who has taken the time to write to me personally, or leave a review. So many lovely, wonderful people from across the world have reached out, and it’s so nice to know that there is resonance with the words after you release them out into the world.

A crow flies across the deepening sky, followed by two airplanes high above, their contrails glowing pink before quickly disappearing in the high pressure. So many planes tonight, flying across the southern sky. More and more carbon, going into the air, with cheaper and cheaper flights. I worry for the future, I really do. Taking a deep breath, I ground and remind myself that I am doing all that I can, and to be here in the moment. I know that next summer I will be on a plane myself, for a very special family occasion. I cannot judge without being judgemental.

What other things have happened this year? Well, in late autumn, a creative burst came through in a completely different media than usual. Photography and video has inspired me these last few months, and it’s nice to take a break from the written word. Expressing myself in different mediums has widened my horizons, and made me realise that I am more than just Jo, the Druid.

Six airplanes in my small field of vision, as I look out across the back garden.

Douglas and Jeffrey have arrived, and are eating peanuts.

My cats are sleeping at my feet, happy and content.

My husband is downstairs, watching the hilarious soapbox races on the television.

It is safe to say that my world has grounded itself in reality of late. The dreaming druid is still there, but she is sitting side by side with many others. She is sharing a table with many aspects of my soul, and there is food enough for all to share. The call of my ancestors is still strong, and my heart hearkens to a heathen past while my head remains firmly in the present.

Other things that have happened: I’ve revamped my website and this blog, and opened up an Instagram account. My Youtube channel is going strong.  I also have a Patreon page, where people can support me in the work that I do, for whichever medium I creatively express myself in, day in and day out. I am so grateful that I have the opportunity to do so, because for so long my life was filled with simply trying to survive. There were so many ideas in my head that had to be held back because I needed to make a living first and foremost. These last five years have really shifted that way of being, and I am eternally grateful. It feels like I’m opening up, that more and more creativity is coming, in various forms. I have music planned, and art. In the new year, there will be a place on my website where you can order prints of my photography. There is much to come, by the grace of the gods and my own will.

The room is darkening considerably, and I will have to stop writing soon, for the glare will become too strong for my eyes in the candlelit room. I shall take a moment to sit with the candles, and meditate upon what has gone, what currently is, and what may come. I shall be grateful for every moment, every taste that life has to offer, in every spectrum. There may be trouble ahead, there may be smooth sailing. We cannot know for certain, but we can steer the course of lives as best we can. As the peachy sky fades into grey, then indigo and then black, I know that the stars will shine tonight, at least for a little while. And after that? Who can say? I only know that I am thankful for my many blessings.

To everyone who has followed this blog over the year, and some over many years, to everyone who has yet to come into my life, to everyone who has supported me and my work, I give you my heartfelt thanks. I could not have done it without you. There is a relationship right here, though it is often silent, and hidden. But it is here, between you and I, right here in this moment as you read these words. And I honour you for this moment, this shared moment.

May the coming year bring you peace and happiness in the best of times, and strength and courage in the worst. May we all stand shoulder to shoulder, to work with each other to make this world a better place. May we all walk in beauty.

Love, Jo. x

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Winter’s Reflection

xmas 2015 2This time of year always makes me think of my family: my relatives, my extended family, and my ancestors. It’s a difficult time of year to be separate from them, as during this season it is all about being with family. As I won’t be going back to Canada for the holidays this year (I was back in the summer, and will be going back next summer for a big wedding anniversary) this winter will be a hard one, mentally and emotionally. Thank goodness for the blessings of Skype!

So how do I cope? Well, first and foremost, if I can’t be with my blood family, I’ll be with my chosen family: my friends. We’re organising a Yule ritual and feast, and it will be good to be with others, laughing and sharing food and drink, a warm fire and toasting the past year, and looking forward to the coming year.

Winter 1As always at this time of year, my spiritual path shifts to honour my ancestors. My practice takes on more of a Heathen focus, working with the old ways of Germanic customs, deities, ethics and lore. If I can’t be out walking the snow-covered hills and deep, silent forests of my native Canada, then I will work with the ancestors and spirits of place here in England that still remember and resonate with a similar landscape from their past, and also a similar ideal. It runs through my veins, the yearning to be with family, to deepen those bonds with gifts and storytelling, to be out in the winter air and honouring the world around me.

I feel a close connection to Frigge, the Allmother, especially during the winter months. She is the lady of right order, a lady of sovereignty, she who sees the wyrd of all. She is a great weaver, and she knows the bonds of friendship and family are the strongest ones we can have  in our lives. I say a daily prayer to her every morning, and light a candle in her name.

Winter 2There is also a special place in my heart for Ullr, who is mostly associated with hunting but, as with all the northern traditions’ deities, they cannot be pigeon-holed into a specific “god of such and such” for their functions, their talents, their skills and their passions often overlap, just as ours do here in Midgarth. I also honour the Etin-bride Skadhi, she of the snowshoes, an independent and strong warrior woman who is not afraid to ask for what she wants in life. If I can’t be out on my cross-country skis back in Canada, then I can still feel the presence of the gods in the awesome winter skies of East Anglia, with frost on the ground and the deer in their large winter herds before me on the heath.

I honour Freya (who may or may not be separate from Frigga – the debate still rages) as a lady of seidr, the magic and trancework of the northern peoples. With my staff I sit, indoors or out, and connect to my guides, singing the songs that take me between the worlds.

I also have a great love and respect for Tyr, who befriended Fenris the Wolf who will slay many at the end of days, at Ragnarok. When Fenris came to live with the gods, Tyr was kind enough to take care of him, to feed him and keep him company. When the gods decided that Fenris should be bound, in an attempt to stop the aforementioned fate from coming to pass, the wolf knew something was up, and demanded that someone’s hand be put in his mouth while the magical fetter was being laid upon him. No god or goddess was willing to do so, apart from Tyr, who knew his duty, both to the wolf and the gods and goddesses of Asgard. And so he lost his hand when Fenris bit down after realising he had been tricked. Tyr knows the price to be paid, as well as duty and the kindness that is compassion.

I work with the runes, and am studying them in more depth this year. I’m also going to be part of a study group with a kindred that lives a few rivers down the coast, who have kindly invited me to several blots over this past year (rituals where blessings are offered and given). There is the special sumble (ritual where words are spoken over the ritual cup/horn, to fall into the well of wyrd) near the winter solstice, and of course, the entire festival of Yule which I will celebrate, spanning the 12 days of Christmas in the modern calendar.

P1010980All in all, this winter will be a quiet one, where I turn to my ancestors and work with my heritage, learning new things and becoming a student once again. I’m very much looking forward to it, and to the new discoveries along the way. May the blessings of winter’s might and reflection be with you all!

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To be or not to be – that is the question…

Questioning your spiritual and religious path is something that happens to almost everyone who is travelling down the winding trackways of life, with its twists and turns, surprises and disappointments. For the most part, we try to find others who are on a similar path, to share in the experience, to help us perhaps with their stories, to provide guidance or simply reassurance that we are on the correct path. We as a species are a tribal people. We also love to put things into categories and boxes, in order to make some sort of sense of life. With religion or spirituality, it’s never that easy.

Our path may have been walked by others for many years – or we may be forging out on our own. It helps if we can name our path, as if in naming we can further clarify the intention behind the journeying. We can get caught up in the naming, trying to find where we fit in the world, finding some definition that makes sense to us and to everyone else. Sometimes there is no sense to be made, for if we are walking between worlds, defining it using the terms of just one world can make it seem less than what it really is, what it feels like to us, and how we experience it.

When we are researching our path, we come across definitions that others have used, that they may still use and hope that perhaps we will fit somewhere within them. Yet the fit isn’t quite right – either the hem is too low, the collar too tight, the colour is wrong. We may like the cut but not the pattern. It may not be suitable in all weathers – you get my point. When I first started out, it was on the path of Wicca, back in the early 1990s, then coming to Druidry shortly after the new millennium had begun. I’ve studied other religious paths along the way – Buddhism and Zen, Native American, Romany Chovihano, Heathenry and more. Always questing the awen, I’ve often found that there is no monopoly on wisdom. I’ve incorporated elements of all these into my own Druidry and, by doing is, is it still Druidry?

For me, yes – it is. My path is based on the wisdom of this land and the ancestors. This is the base from which I work, flavoured with ideas and teachings from other paths. Yet it is still, in essence, Druidry – at least in my own eyes. Others might disagree. For me, Druidry is simply a word that describes the language of my spirituality, of my religion. In it I find the wisdom of the oak – for me it is that simple.

Questioning and questing are valuable assets in our spiritual paths – they are a force against complacency, against blind acceptance. They make us address the issues of words and ideas thoroughly in a meaningful way that pertains to us alone. I’ve witnessed many thoughtful words from people looking at their own path, and trying to find a definition that works. Nell wrote on her blog, The Animist Craft of community (click HERE for full article). Lorna Smithers currently has found a new path that makes sense for her (click HERE) and Nimue Brown has discussed it in various forms on her posts, Disillusioned with Druidry and Walking your Own Pagan Path (and written a book, Spirituality Without Structure). Emma Restall Orr even touched upon this issue in “Essays in Contemporary Paganism” (Moon Books, 2013) in her essay, “After Paganism”. After spending around 30 years being a leading figure in the Druid community, she now states on her website [accessed 25 June, 2014]:

“Studying Druidry from the mid 1980s, I worked for The Order of Bards Ovates and Druids, then The British Druid Order, where I was joint chief for some 9 years alongside Philip Shallcrass. In 2002 I left to found The Druid Network, which now runs without me. While my time within Druidry was enormously valuable, I would no longer term myself a Druid.”

Our beliefs and attitudes are always shifting, always questing the awen in different ways. We may walk a path for a while, for many years even, and then find that we’d rather follow something else or create a new path deep through the forest of our souls. We may find that we do not fit in with the definition others ascribe to a path, such as Druidry. We may shrug off what others say and continue to call ourselves Druids, feeling that the word itself, and not the adherents to it, adequately describe our own path.

For me personally, I’m happy with the term, Druid, even though I disagree with a lot of what other Druids do, just as much as I agree with them. Though others may say or do things I find embarrassing, or simply wrong, they do not describe my path any more than those who I find inspirational and wise. Are we trying too hard to find definitions of what we are, or what we aren’t, or is this an exercise that is necessary in order not only to define our own paths, but our own selves? Where does intention fit in with this idea? Are you happy with the terms you or others have ascribed to your own path? Do these terms matter?