self

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Spiritually Ill

At Samhain, by sunset I was in bed, the world was spinning.  I had just gotten off the phone to cancel the evening’s ritual. I had doggedly worked through the previous two days with a headache that just wouldn’t go away, and an all over body ache that I attributed to overdoing it in yoga.  Now nausea took over; I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. This was something different.

My blood boiled and the fever took over, running for the next three days.  Then blisters began to appear, and I knew – I had chicken pox.  I had managed to elude it for 39 years, and it finally caught up with me. My immune system was already weakened from a previous virus and an unrelaxing but still enjoyable holiday.

Halfway through the night we had to get up to change the sheets.  The fire in my body was trying to be quenched with sweat. The pounding in my head was almost unbearable.  As I dragged my aching body back into bed and into the blessed darkness, I wondered how I could deal with this illness on a spiritual level.

Using meditation techniques to calm the body and ease the headache, it was pretty easy at first. But then the rash came out, and all thoughts of coping with meditation flew out the window.  The fever comes and goes, a rush of fire through the body and that is quite easy to follow along, feeling it along my body and in my bones, through my hair and rising off my body.  It’s the stillness that is difficult in these circumstances.  I thought my Zen and meditation training would help to ease this. I was wrong.

It was impossible to sit still.  It was impossible to sleep. It still is.  Lying down, you feel all the nerves reacting to the virus, sending sharp little elf shots throughout the body and into the blisters.  You twitch. Even now, the twitching doesn’t stop.  The mind is doing all it can to get away from the pain, from the discomfort. Trying to type these words and form a cohesive thought pattern is a real challenge.

So what to do? How to deal with the chicken pox virus spiritually as well as physically? I’ve found that my skin is soothed outside, by sitting in the backyard, letting the sun and the wind ease the pain.  It doesn’t last for long – when I go back inside again it returns, but I am reminded of the moments of normalcy, of nature all around me, continuing on even as the fires rage within my body.  It is a reminder that the world is bigger than you are – when we are ill, we can so easily become despondent, self-absorbed ( I know – writing a blog about this is a tad on the solipsism side, but bear with me).

I look at my cat, who has been fighting with a stomach infection for months now.  She doesn’t seem terribly bothered by it – animals deal with pain and illness, death and dying so much better than most humans. They have an innate grace when it comes to it, all things considered.  And so I take inspiration from nature to help me combat the mental and physical challenges that lie ahead this week.

I let the awen flow.

I also hit the bottle of calamine lotion, and take some white willow bark.

I feel that this is also a turning point – the Celtic New Year has begun.  My body is undergoing some serious trials right now, and I feel that at the end of this journey I will have learned something valuable.  I was not able to perform any Samhain rituals, but did light a candle for the ancestors and leave it in the front and rear windows of the home, like I do every year, to guide the dead on their journey.  A couple of days later I was able to sit in my altar room and, after trying and giving up on meditation I turned to my oldest set of cards for inspiration.  What did I need to learn from this, I asked? The card I drew was Initiation.

And so, I feel that this is telling me to stop, to slow down even, to see the new phase in my life.  To literally do nothing. To deal with pain.  To deal with suffering.  To get on and be inspired by life.  To let go of all concepts related to my looks.  To let go of all thoughts of the future. To enjoy the moment. To simply be.  There is nothing like pain to get you in the present moment, if you truly open yourself up to it.

It has showed me that even though I talk about slowing down, and not taking on so many commitments, that I need to walk the talk.  I have talked about slowing down for months now, and yet keep accepting new work, birthing new ideas and letting the awen flow.  What I need to do is to retreat, to stop for a bit, to perhaps stem the flow of awen pouring out, and focus on it pouring back in.

This illness has really highlighted that for me.  Exchange, relationship. I talk about this a lot, and yet now see how unbalanced I was in it.  And so, learning from this episode in my life, I start the new year unable to do much except sit and read, or watch the birds as the sun sets a little closer each evening.  There are books to read, sacred places to visit.  A retreat from the world in order to better engage with it – this is what the monastic tradition is all about.  It’s calling to me at the moment. Time to ponder on thoughts of the self, to chop wood and carry water.  The cool breeze from the open window beside me is so delicious on my hot and blistered skin.

Is this how to deal with illness as a Druid? Maybe – each person’s journey is different, and sacred. May yours be walked in balance and harmony, in darkness and in light with equal joy and yes, pain.

 

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Sacrifice

(This is from an article that I wrote for The Druid Network a few years ago…)

Many people in the pagan community have differing ideas on the concept of
sacrifice. Here I can only offer my own view, to share with others. These words,
much as the notion of sacrifice, are a purely personal experience.

Let me first describe what to me is the difference between an offering and a
sacrifice. Offerings can be daily elements of the ritual of our lives; offerings
of incense, of songs to the dawn, food from each meal. Offerings are often given
in thanks; for the day, for the restoration of health to a loved one, for a
wandering pet’s return. For some, offerings are a return of what we have in
abundance, for example, a farmer returning a sheaf of wheat to the land, or some
of the autumn’s blackberry port that was made poured back beneath the bushes
from whence the fruit was obtained. Offerings are used to establish a
relationship, to give back for what we have received in turn from an honourable
existence. They nurture a relationship. So, in that context, what is sacrifice?

For me, sacrifice is something that you just don’t want to give up. It hurts.
Yet, to be able to move onto the next level, to deepen a relationship further,
instead of just nurturing it with an offering, a sacrifice must be made.
Sacrifice is giving up something that is sacred to you. It can’t be easy. It
can’t be something that has outlived its purpose. It can’t be something that you
don’t really care about, or that you have in abundance. It can’t be something
that can be replaced. It has to show dedication, devotion, commitment. It has
got to hurt.

When I speak of hurting, I don’t mean physical pain, although that too in a
way can be seen as a sacrifice. If something will forever be changed because of
it, then perhaps it can be deemed as sacrifice (a tattoo, for instance). To push
through barriers of pain can be a sacrifice of what we strive for as human
beings – comfort being one of the greatest drives. Yet there can be an emotional
pain in sacrifice as well. That the physical pain in sacrifice is our own cannot
be questioned – we should never harm another being in the name of sacrifice, or
for whatever reason. If we are to sacrifice our own personal comfort, then it
must be sufficient to move onto a new level of relationship. We may not always
be willing to sacrifice, however, we can be ready to.

Some argue that time can be sacrificed, yet I would argue that if one has
come to a relationship with the god of Time, then one will find that they have
all the time in the world to attain what they wish. Time, for me, can only be an
offering, even though it can be seen as irreplaceable. Time is not a sacrifice
when it means spending more time at the local soup kitchen and less time in
front of the television – it is merely a reprioritising of time, and what is
important.

Can money be a sacrifice? Again, this for me is more of an offering than a
sacrifice for most people. Money can be replaced, for instance. Yet, if one
gives all their money to another, is that not a sacrifice? Perhaps yes, perhaps
no. For me, money can always be made, yet I live in the luxury of not worrying
too much about where my next meal comes from. So, for me, money is an offering,
much as food and time.

So what constitutes sacrifice? In my own experience, an item (so far it has
always been an item) must be thought over for hours, even days, as to whether or
not I wish to sacrifice it. If I can find other things that I would willingly
sacrifice before it, then they are not worthy. Some might think of this train of
thought as merely masochistic. Again, it comes down to what is truly sacred to
one’s self, and what one needs to do in order to progress to the next level.

Recently, I spent all night in my tepee, knowing that I had to sacrifice
something in the morning before the ritual. I knew that I wanted to go deeper
into my druidry, and that the spirits of place and my gods required it of me. I
hummed and hawed over it, wondering if I had anything else in my pack that I
could sacrifice instead of my beloved and sacred bead bracelet. I didn’t. It was
either my eagle pendant or my bracelet. I couldn’t sacrifice my wooden beaded
necklaces, they were just too easy – I didn’t have a large enough emotional
attachment to them. The spirits of place would not accept that offering, as I
felt. It was not sufficient in order to attain the deeper relationship
that I craved. My eagle pendant, after long thought, was replaceable, though I
would miss it dearly in the months that it would take to find another one. My
bracelet, however, one of a kind with many dear memories attached, was not at
all replaceable. That would be my sacrifice.

I have also sacrificed a medicine bag, and a wedding ring. None of these
items I wanted to let go, but just knew I had to if I was to progress
along my spiritual journey. I miss them dearly, but the value in giving them up
makes up for their loss, in a sense. I have a deeper understanding about myself,
about what is important to me, and by sacrificing these things to the spirits I
feel that they know me better, know my intentions more clearly, and that we have
a stronger, deeper, newer and more committed relationship for it. To me, that is
the true nature of sacrifice.

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Why should the Gods care?

Do the Gods care?  I’m not so sure.

In my own experience, I know that the wild gods especially, those of heath and forest, of the seas and wind, of storm and sunshine, do not care about what happens to humanity.  They simply follow their nature, their path.  In my perception, the universe does not care.  I remember in Pirates of the Caribbean, when the goddess of the sea, Calypso, was asked why she had a change of heart about a man that she once loved, simply stated in that slow, West Indes drawl: “It is my nature”.  They may interact with us, but do they have our best interests at heart? Some may, but some may not.  Some may not even acknowledge us – the hurricane passes through despite our pleas, following its own song of wind and water, doing what is in its nature to do.  The sun shines down relentlessly on the crops, burning the fields or ripening the wheat dependent upon other weather conditions during the season.  Our best interests are not on their agenda.

And why should they be?  It is the human fallacy, that mindset of us being the centre of the universe?  Why should we be the recipients of all that we perceive to be good in the world, and why do we rail against the perceived tragedy? Yes, an earthquake is devastating, and can kill thousands of people, causing pain and anguish among humanity, and all other creatures that suffer from its effects.  But the earthquake is not at fault (pardon the pun) – that is the nature of the earthquake.  It will not seek out a place where it can cause the least destruction, nor vice versa – it happens where it needs to happen, where the elements dictate it should be, where the song takes it.  It does not consider the repercussions it will have on anything.

These wild gods are of a totally different consciousness to us, and it can be damned hard to relate to. That is why we often anthropomorphise them, in order to be able to relate.  It is easier to talk to a god of thunder, who struts around wielding a great hammer against giants than it is to talk to a thundercloud, or the lightning.  These gods, who we have given human form – do they care for us?

By giving them some sort of humanity, we automatically assume that they should. After all, they look like us, talk like us, have adventures that we can relate to.  We have created these wonderful stories about them.  We care for them, we devote ourselves to them – should they not do the same?

This can often be the falling down point in relationships with the gods for many people.  I have known people who have abandoned the gods, because they have lost loved ones, or had other trauma in their lives that the gods did not intercede in.  My question would be – why should they intercede?  At the moment, I have a very ill cat, who is not responding to medication.  I have prayed to Bridget for healing strength to help her get over the illness, and to give us all strength and knowledge of the illness so that we may better cope with it.  So far the results of the prayers have not been successful – should I therefore abandon all relationship with Bridget? It I did, then I would be assuming that the gods are “on call” for us, for our whims and demands and pleas for help.

They are not.

I have relationships with several gods, to help me understand them, and the ways of the world a little better, but I know that I am not special; that should I receive healing energy from Bridget it would not be because she is granting me a favour, or a gift.  What I hope to achieve through my relationship with her is a better understanding of the bigger picture in life, beyond my own mortal limitations in order to better my own situation.

I don’t think Bridget really cares whether or not my cat lives or dies.  She may, however, help me to understand the illness better, to help me find the inspiration and strength to continue through my relationship with her. Sometimes just talking to someone about it helps, even if you cannot see them.  Like the Catholic confession, simply talking to someone can sometimes clarify things in your own mind.  The priest taking the confession will give advice, tell you how many Hail Marys or acts of contrition you must do to absolve you of the sin that you committed – but the priest does not care, per se – they are simply acting on behalf of what they believe their god would like their followers to do.

Does this leave me feeling a bit lonely, a bit unwanted and left out because my gods do not care about me?  Not really.  My gods teach me how to cope with the world – Nemetona teaches me about sanctuary and sacred space, where I can in myself learn about finding those places where I can be free. She does not grant them to me, but shows me how to find them through her and through my own practice.  Similarly, Frigge does not care for me in any motherly or matronly sort of way, nor Freya – what they do is provide me with inspiration to keep my household in good order, or to talk through relationship issues.  They are not Dial-A-Gods with whom to pray to for help with this or that; through our ongoing relationship with them we begin to see how we can find the awen in their stories and weave that into our own lives.

Sometimes it may feel like our pleas are heard – that someone receives a miraculous recovery, or the tidal wave does not reach the shore. However, I would posit that this has nothing to do with us personally.  The infection may go away because of the mindset and resulting physiological effects this has on a person who knows that others are praying for them, or who have made them a special amulet.  Does this have anything to do with directed energy from the gods themselves? I’m not so sure – I think it has more to do with the inspiration these gods have given humanity to fix it, or try to fix it, themselves.  I could, of course, be totally wrong.

The fact that the gods don’t care does not affect my relationship with them. The tree at the bottom of my garden does not care whether I live or die, neither do the horses in the field, the frogs in the pond, the throngs of humanity who have no knowledge that I even exist.  Does this mean that I should not love them? I don’t think so.

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Right Livelihood

autumn leavesDuring the time around the autumn equinox, in my particular path of blending Zen and Druidry I focus on the Buddhist aspects of Right Livelihood within a Druid context.  I do this throughout the year, blending the Buddhist Eightfold Path into the eight seasons of modern Paganism, and have found it spiritually inspiring and enlightening. (For further reading into Zen Druidry, please see my latest book, Zen Druidry, available on Amazon and through Moon Books).

Right Livelihood, in essence, means taking on a way of living and working that does not compromise the other principles within the eightfold path, or indeed any of the Dharma Principles. However, it is much more than ensuring that your occupation is not harmful to others – for me, this accords to everything I do, my entire life.  My livelihood is not just my office job, or my dance company, my writing or my work as a Druid priest. My livelihood is the way in which I live my life – my whole Druidry as a way of living, not just as a practice.

I have ensured that the traditional view of Right Livelihood is upheld in my life – all my jobs do not create harm in others, abuse others or the environment inasmuch as is humanly possible.  Yes, three out of my four jobs require that I drive a car, and that is a compromise that I have to make, which I try to offset in other areas of my life.  I used to work as a legal secretary, but was slowly having my soul destroyed by helping the rich dodge inheritance taxes.  It took the universe to give me a great kick up the bum to get out of that job and dive into something more meaningful for my own self – other similar legal jobs may work for some people, it just wasn’t in accordance with Right Livelihood for me personally.  I quit, went back to university and got a job straight away working for a music company and charity, got writing again, started a dance company and began in my priest work.  I felt much more at ease with myself, knowing that I was partaking in Right Livelihood (or Livelihoods!).

Some of us may feel trapped in jobs that we do not like, but we need the money to support our families, or ourselves.  However, that doesn’t mean that we cannot be on the lookout for something that would sit better within our hearts and souls, and it also doesn’t mean that we can’t offshoot this, say perhaps by doing some volunteer work, donating to charity, etc.  I personally don’t have much spare time, but the time that I do have I try to use wisely – though this year I haven’t succeeded as well as I may have, having run myself a little too ragged.  Organising charity events, performing wedding ceremonies, on top of my other jobs left too little time for me and my husband, and in that regard I failed at Right Livelihood, as there was harm and neglect on that front.  I have worked too hard, and now physically and emotionally see the repercussions. Now, in the autumn of the year, when I can see the results of what I have sown in the springtime of the year, I can also reflect on how to do better next year.

Right Livelihood means living right – it’s not just your job.  For me, within Druidry, it means establishing a life that has as little impact ecologically as is possible at the time for me and my family.  It means investing our savings in solar panels, recycling and composting everything, using cruelty and chemical-free toiletries, working towards creating peace and inspiring others.  It means walking the walk instead of just talking the talk.  It’s bloody hard to do. It means being aware of everything around you, of the impact that you have on the world, from the interaction I have with my co-workers to how many kilowatt hours our household has consumed in the last year.  It means sacrificing ignorance for knowledge, and the practical application of such.

Druidry teaches us about creating honourable relationships with the world around us, with all things if you are an animist like myself. Seeing the inherent value in all things means that no single thing can be taken for granted.  Incorporating Zen means bringing awareness of my own self and how my brain works, as well as working on an awareness of the world at large by living as mindfully as is possible.  Sometimes I am hugely successful at both – other times I fail spectacularly.  At any rate, it’s a learning curve.

Throughout the darkening days until Samhain, my focus on Right Livelihood is a constant reminder to live well.  Taking inspiration from nature, I learn not to take more than is necessary, or at least I am inspired not to – succeeding in this regard is damned hard in a fairly affluent Western society.  I breathe into the growing twilight, the longer nights and learn how to simply be in the world, leaving behind barriers of separation as much as I can, within myself and nature, humanity and the universe.  The rich scents of autumn tingle in my nose, the decaying leaf mould and woodsmoke, the chill winds and starry skies above inspiring me to continue. It is  Inspiring me to create a life that is worthwhile, and in doing so, following a path of Right Livelihood.

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Honour in Druidry

The gods in Druidry, for those Druids who believe in the gods, are vast.  They may be ancestral deities out of myth and legend, the stories of the people from an area that may be carried through time, over oceans and continents and held within the blood of the tribe. They may be gods of wind and rain, of thunder and sunshine and the growing of crops.  They may be from a pantheon of gods local to the area, or from thousands of miles away.  With such a diverse range of gods, and what it is to be a god in Druidry, how can we celebrate together, or even separately as a tradition under the single banner of Druidry?

I purport that it is with honour that we acknowledge the similarities and differences within the tradition, that which is holding it all together. But what then is honour?

As a noun, honour has several meanings*:

1.            personal integrity; allegiance to moral principles

2.            a. fame or glory

b. a person or thing that wins this for another: he is an honour to the school

3.            ( often plural ) great respect, regard, esteem, etc, or an outward sign of this

4.            ( often plural ) high or noble rank

5.            a privilege or pleasure: it is an honour to serve you

Let’s being with number one – personal integrity and allegiance to moral principles.  Within Druidry, it is widely understood that one does not need to have gods in order to have a moral and ethical code.  Druids take their inspiration from the natural world around them, and whether or not they see certain aspects of nature as deity is irrelevant – it is quite possible to be an ethical Druid, or an ethical anything, without a belief in god.  What is most meaningful in this, however, is maintaining your personal integrity, your moral principles, without trampling over those of others. So, while an atheist Druid might disagree with a Pagan Druid on the existence of gods, having personal integrity means that you don’t stomp all over someone else’s belief, or lack of belief.

Number two, fame or glory, is an odd wording in my opinion – I would classify it more as an asset rather than fame or glory.  However, in Celtic and indeed in religions the world over, one’s  reputation is of utmost importance, and perhaps in this context it would work.  By walking our walk, instead of just talking out talk, in Druidry we know that honour means accepting the diversity of nature, and human nature, which includes religion and philosophy.  What we need to also acknowledge are the assets of others, famous or not.  A Druid quietly standing by a fracking site in peaceful protest is just as important as a well-reknowned poet, or author, or activist Druid that is more publicly known.  It also implies that those in supposed positions of power should think more on the repercussions of their actions, and how they conduct themselves publicly, though I would like to say that this should apply to each and every individual on the planet.

Great respect, regard and self-esteem tends to overlap with my points for number two, especially with regards to walking our walk.

Number four doesn’t really apply to Druidry, but in our own human nature and society, we still often revert to ranking systems in order to classify people, much as some of us absolutely hate it. We have Chief Executives in companies, and High Judges in the legal system.  We have so-called and often self-styled Arch Druids and High Priests and Priestesses in some Pagan traditions.  Often there is debate in Druidry over who is even entitled to call themselves a Druid, some believing that this is only an accolade offered to those who have studied for a certain length of time.  I personally don’t subscribe to this notion, but there are many who do, who state that one can follow the path of Druidry, without being a Druid per se.  This often follows a set of grades that those who follow Druidry study, being that of Bard, Ovate and Druid. It is sometimes, in error, also seen as hierarchal grades in which to achieve status.  After spending many years in primary and secondary school systems and indeed, in many other aspects of our society, you can see how many come to this conclusion – you need to get this grade in order to progress to this grade, etc.  However, in Druidry many Druids (and note that here I mean all those who follow the path of Druidry) don’t give a tinker’s dam about rank, and treat everyone equally.  This again has its roots in honour, and in honouring someone for who they are innately, as opposed to honouring a rank.

Number five, a privilege or pleasure, is a most interesting description. In my Druidry, serving the gods and the community ranks highly.  Indeed, it is an honour to call oneself a Druid, as it is an honour to serve that which inspires me – nature.  It is also an honour to share that inspiration with the community, with a deep respect for the tradition and for each other.

Honour is also a verb – and again there are many descriptions:

* to hold in respect or esteem

* to show courteous behaviour towards

* to worship

* to confer a distinction upon

* to accept and then pay when due (a cheque, draft, etc)

* to keep (one’s promise); fulfil (a previous agreement)

* to bow or curtsy to (one’s dancing partner)

Again, many of these overlap with the noun descriptives. However, there are some that hold a particular resonance with me, and are perhaps more poignant as a verb than as a noun.  To show courteous behaviour towards another is quite important, as a) it is just a nicer way to deal with the world at large, and b) it implies a certain respect for other souls who are sharing this planet with us, whether they are human or non-human.  I show equal courteous behaviour to a tree as I would a relative, or a person on the bus – in my mind they are all souls sharing this journey of life. Whilst I maintain boundaries in dealing with people, and indeed, those who refuse act with similar courtesy are then relegated to the outer bounds of my interaction, there is still a basic understanding of human and non-human functioning and a shared existence.

Equating the word honour with the word worship is quite a tricky one. Many atheists would balk at it, with good cause.  Many Druids, even those who have a relationship with the gods do not like the term “worship”, as it implies a subservience, at least in today’s society.  Its roots in Old English stem from weorthscipe, the worth of something to the person.  This perhaps is more meaningful. The gods are worthy of my praise, of my attention, and so I worship deity.  This is not however, universally held within the tradition, and can cause problems, most of which are linguistically based.

So, when dealing with the concept of honour, we begin to see how this can create a cohesive bonding in such a varied landscape of paths that all fall under the banner of Druidry.  For many, it also comes down to an awareness of the spirit of everything – each thing’s own inherent consciousness, and each thing’s own inherent value, often known as animism.  When we realise the worth of something, and not in a financial or in a resource sort of way, but its own inherent worth, we then act with honour in our relationship to it.  So, a political Druid who often gets media attention through their behaviour and who you often may roll your eyes at, has his or her own inherent worth.  A wasp that is trying to get in your nice cold pint of beer has its own inherent worth.  Even the troll who is trying to get a rise out of you on an internet social media forum has its own inherent worth.

In seeing the inherent worth in everything, something even more accepting than tolerance is gained – it is more akin perhaps to an immersion with everything around you, rather than a passive acceptance.  The acknowledgement is participatory, instead of passive.  Druids, when celebrating together, can acknowledge the beauty and diversity, rather than simply tolerate each other’s beliefs.  It is much more meaningful that way, much more poignant.  Nature does not tolerate diversity, nature IS diversity.

Therefore, Druids too are diversity.

*taken from dictionary.com

 

 

 

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Being Pagan

Sometimes being a Pagan is simply not fun.

In my path of Druidry, I have to consider the ramifications of every action that I take, in order to maintain honourable relationship with the world around me.  I gave up eating meat nearly twenty years ago. I have since given up dairy altogether.  I recycle everything I can, even though that can be time-consuming and tedious.  I’m spending thousands of pounds on solar panels for my home instead of putting it into a personal savings account.  Every day I make choices based on my spiritual and ethical practice, most of which are “not fun”.

We as humans have been altogether far too selfish. Our endless consuming of resources, without thought for future generations, demonstrates this.  We as humans have the capacity for forethought, and yet we still destroy the planet, our future and the future of our ancestors yet to come.  The world population has doubled in the last 50 years, yet people are still having children, or visiting fertility clinics when there are millions of children already born who need good homes.  We believe in an economy that only works when it keeps growing, when we keep spending to keep this mythical beast alive, feeding it with our hard-earned cash.  We invest in nuclear and chemical weapons, sometimes unknowingly, through the banks we put our money in.  We take, take and take, and virtually give nothing back.

It’s easy to dismiss those people who take a stand for what they believe in, who care for the environment, for whom their religion would not allow them to do otherwise.  Call them overly dramatic, call them attention seekers, call them hippies, fluffy bunny new-agers, or just plain crazy.  De-humanize them, for it is easier to control them and dismiss their arguments then.  Their feelings don’t matter – they’re all just fluff and air.  We need to get on with having our fun, for crying out loud, and not listen to these whingers.

I have been called all these things.  I defy them all, and stand proud in my convictions.  I make my choices based on generations of humans and non-humans yet to come, not out of selfish greed.  I will take a stand against destruction of bluebell woods.  I will protest fracking.  I will sign any petition Greenpeace throw my way.  I will feed the badgers in my backyard and pray for their counterparts in the culling areas, and I will continue to write to MPs to ask them to stop.  I will eat as organically and as locally as I can.

This may mean that I have to give up a hobby with a certain company rather than see the destruction of a single plant, or give up a weekend away with my husband to go to a rally.  My internet time of looking at cute kittens will be limited.  My evenings will be spent ensuring the welfare of my animal cousins.  My food may not be as easy to get, or as accessible (being seasonal and all), but dammit – I don’t care.  This is my life, and this is how I am going to live it.

My Paganism is not limited to circles glowing in the candlelight, the swirls of incense drifting about my upraised arms as I pray to my Goddess.  My religion is in my every action in life.  It is not mystical in the least – it is real, it is practical and it is me.  Whether I am in my ceremonial robes or my pyjamas, my work is important, my connection to the world and my relationship with everything in it equally valid whether I’m waving a wand or not. I may stand at the clifftop and shout my thanks to the ancestors across the sea, or I may sit in the conservatory and stroke my kitty in the growing twilight.  Either act is an act of devotion, of dedication to the present moment, to this world, this time and this place.

I cannot leave my Paganism, my Druidry behind.  It is me.  It is my life.  Others may try to dismiss it, but with love and compassion for all things, I hear their words, and I smile, letting them know that I’ve heard them, and then get on with what needs to be done to spread peace, harmony and love in this world.

I stand proud in the starlight, gazing out at the Milky Way and knowing where my place is within that great spiral dance.

 

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Fear of Ageing

Having recently just turned 39, my thoughts lately have been turning to our society’s views on ageing.  Ageing is something that we must fight, if you listen to all the women’s toiletries marketing ploys.  Combat ageing, they say, with their Miracle Defense Cure (incidentally, I did a search on how many products contain the word “defense” in their name for creams, lotions and potions, and it was staggering…) and you will be young forever, for young is beautiful.

Now, I don’t know about you, and can’t speak for the masses, but I don’t want to look like a twelve year old girl.  Most models in fashion magazines are under 16 years of age.  They wouldn’t even be able to afford the clothes that they are modelling for the older, more affluent women who buy said magazines.  Billboards and television advertisements show us young women all the time, for everything from cosmetics to kitchens.  We have ingrained in our minds that young is beautiful, and have it reinforced each and every day.

I have recently heard that young women are also shaving themselves completely, removing all pubic hair. Why, I have absolutely no idea, but this only reiterates our new obsession with youth – they may state for hygienic or fashion purposes, but the fact of the matter remains – they still will end up looking like pre-pubescent girls.  Not terribly sexy, in my opinion.

Why do we have such a fear of ageing? Why do we consider youth to be so beautiful, at least for the human race?  Many humans see beauty in older things, such as a 500 year old tree, or a 1,000 year old cathedral. Here in the UK, the ideal home in the country would be something reminiscent of a house built in the 1600 – 1800’s.  Old, at least for some things, is aesthetically pleasing. Why not for the human body as well?

We do not venerate the old in our society; it is not an achievement anymore to reach old age, what with the wonders of modern medicine.  Old people are a burden to those still earning money, getting in the way until they are put in homes.  We do not look after our elderly anymore, but pay others to do it for us.  Out of sight, out of mind.  We fear ageing, we do not want to have to deal with it.  It’s a sickening, maddening cycle, for we will all age. It’s the one thing that we cannot avoid at any cost.  The diet industry might lose us as customers once we’ve lost the desired weight, but there’s no stopping the ageing process, and manufacturers know this, licking their lips in anticipation of our progress down the linear track of time.

Ageing for a man is still, as far as I can observe, less of a fear than for a woman.  Men with grey hair are sexy. Women with grey hair are not.  Distinguished, people say of men with grey hair.  What of women?  Personally, I cannot wait to have grey hair, or white even – I love the colour.  But society disagrees with me, and sells us harmful chemicals to put on our heads to cover up those grey hairs.  As women live longer than men, on the whole, why do they fear ageing even more?

The loss of youth equals the loss of beauty.  We need to change our perception of that in order to alleviate our fears.  It’s a silly fear in the first place, as nothing we can do will prevent it from happening.  And yet, women all over the world go under the knife to have surgery, or injections, or pay exorbitant amounts of money on products that don’t really do anything.  Why, for the love of the goddess, why?

Fear is such a grand motivator in all things.  We must embrace our fear, as we must embrace our ageing.  What is it that we fear about ageing? For some, it might be the fear of being cast aside, of not being a “productive” member of society – what will I do in retirement? For others, it means coming to terms with their own mortality.  I know that after meditating on this for some time, my personal fear is the loss of beauty – until I realised that beauty does not come with an age limit.  I look around me and find inspiration in all things beautiful and realise just how limiting it is to think of beauty in terms of age.  Step outside the human mindset and watch your world expand.

Watching my face and body change is now no longer depressing – it’s interesting, and a little exciting.  My curves are softer, my breasts larger.  I have cellulite on my thighs.  I have wrinkles on my cleavage.  Little lines around my eyes.  My hands show the hours of work that I have put them to.  My days of sunshine and laughter shown in freckles and wrinkles.  Tattoos mark life transitions, and will look amazing no matter what age I get, as they will change with my body.  Scars show life’s trials and tribulations. All these are a part of my self, and denying these, hating these, is hating myself. What a bloody waste of time.

If society tells me that I should fear ageing, I shall stick up two fingers to it and tell them to bugger off.  I’m more afraid of war, nuclear waste, fracking and the poor badgers who are being culled than I am of ageing.  I no longer fear ageing full stop. To hell with their distractions – there are so much more important things to be doing that standing in front of a mirror looking at a wrinkle or two.

I adored my youth, and have many, many fond memories of it.  Growing up in a beautiful part of the world, loving a beautiful boy for the first time, learning to play music and sing, to roam and find personal freedom.  I am also adoring my “middle years”, whatever that may mean.  Each and every day is precious, and so I will be thankful for them.  There is no battle to be fought, there is no war to be won on ageing.  Time is time, and cares not whether you try out your best wrinkle defense cream.  Be like time, and care not about that which you cannot alter. Don’t go with the flow, but be the flow itself.  Live, love and be happy, free of the fear that society tells you that you should have.  Stand tall and proud, grey hairs and saggy breasted, and know that you are goddess, that you are beautiful, if you only allow yourself to be.

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Four Mantras for Good Relationship

Vietnemese Zen Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh recently spoke in a live webstream from Plum Village (the community he set up in France) about many things, one of which really struck a chord with me about relationships.  He has produced four mantras which help us to learn compassion for each other, and to better open up lines of communication, which is key to any relationship. The four mantras are:

  • Darling, I’m here for you.
  • Darling, I know you are there…and I’m so happy you are there.
  • Darling, I know you suffer…that is why I am here for you.
  • Darling, I suffer – I am trying my best to practice. Please help me.

The first mantra, “Darling, I’m here for you” demonstrates that the other is not alone in this world. Indeed, we are never alone – the idea of being alone is one that has hounded us ever since we made the mind/body disconnection.  The rationalists and the materialists have argued this one thoroughly, so I won’t go into it here, but suffice it to say that within most branches of paganism, the mind are body are thought of as connected.  That being said, through our bodies we are all connected to every other thing on this planet – we contain minerals in our blood that are found in stars, we breathe the air our ancestors breathed, we are all held down by gravity.  There can be no separation in the truest sense.  Our current lives lead us to believe that there is separation – could this simply be a marketing ploy, to divide and conquer?  Something to think about later… but I digress.  When we say “Darling, I’m here for you” we are putting the needs of another ahead of our own, as well as showing them that they are not alone.  In today’s society, that can be and is a great gift that we can give to others.

The second mantra, “Darling, I know you are there, and I am so happy you are there” shows us the joy that others give us, simply by sharing this journey is life.  It is a simple recognition of another soul, which again in today’s society can be so lacking. We lead such virtual and busy lives that speaking these words can reconnect us to the one that means so much to us.  We take so many things for granted, and we should never, ever take our loved ones for granted.  We must remind ourselves each and every day how wonderful it is to have these people in our lives. Allowing ourselves to feel the joy in having someone in our life is another gift, and when we express that joy, that joy spreads throughout the world.

The third mantra, “Darling, I know you suffer, that is why I am here for you” enables us to feel compassion for others in our lives, to show them that we see that they suffer.  So often people feel that they are suffering alone, and when we acknowledge the suffering of others, we immediately have more compassion for them, whether they are our loved ones or not. Everyone is fighting their own battles.  This changes not only our worldview, but changes the perception of those whom we are trying to connect to. Simply listening to someone, truly listening to them, is a great aspect of this mantra.  So often we are not listened to – we are often heard, but is anyone really listening? To give your full heart and attention when someone is trying to connect with you, or vice versa, is key to any relationship.

The fourth mantra, “Darling, I suffer – I am trying my best to practice. Please help me” is perhaps the hardest one to fulfil.  So often our egos get in the way that we simply cannot ask for help, let alone allow others to see our suffering.  How many times have you “suffered in silence”? Why do we do this?  Sometimes, when a loved one has upset us, and then they ask us “What is wrong?” our immediate response is “Nothing,” filled with anger, fear and tension.  They know that something is wrong, but we refuse to tell them in an attempt to punish them for hurting us.  If we allow that hurt to express itself, it will not linger and communication can open up in order to find a resolution.  If we simply answered the question, without judgement or anger, we might be able to see the other side.  We must admit to others that they have upset us, and we must do our best not to let our anger get control. We feel our anger, but we do not attach to it. By not attaching to it, we can talk about it with greater compassion and find greater healing.  We do our best to practice.  When we ask for help, we are putting aside our egos and allowing that other person in.  It’s not easy, but it does change everything. So often our anger is based on a misperception, and allowing the room for that perception to be corrected gives us greater scope for compassion in the world today.

These four mantras are changing the way that I relate to others, I feel in a truly positive and beneficial way for everyone.  For that, I am truly thankful!

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Living with Right Speech

From Lammas, the first harvest, to the Spring Equinox, in my spirituality I focus on a specific aspect of the Buddhist Eightfold path – Right Speech.  For every one of the eight pagan festivals, I have corresponded a part of the Eightfold path, finding a great blending of the two traditions together (see my book, Zen Druidry, for more details http://www.moon-books.net/books/pagan-portals-zen-druidry).  To me, at this time of year when the Celtic peoples gathered together to celebrate the harvest, participate in games and competitions, wedding ceremonies and such, considering how to converse and behave appropriately was paramount in order for the tribe to thrive and meet other tribes without violence or bloodshed.  I see this paralleled in the Eastern concept of Right Speech.

So, what do we mean when we speak of Right Speech?  The concept of right speech involves four elements; abstaining from false speech, abstaining from slanderous speech, abstaining from harsh speech and abstaining from idle chatter.  For the Buddhist, this shows the sacredness of speech, and gives us a framework within which we can work towards more compassionate and thoughtful speech.

Here is a quote taken from The Secular Buddhist:

“The Buddha divides right speech into four components: abstaining from false speech, abstaining from slanderous speech, abstaining from harsh speech, and abstaining from idle chatter. Because the effects of speech are not as immediately evident as those of bodily action, its importance and potential is easily overlooked. But a little reflection will show that speech and its offshoot, the written word, can have enormous consequences for good or for harm. In fact, whereas for beings such as animals who live at the preverbal level physical action is of dominant concern, for humans immersed in verbal communication speech gains the ascendency. Speech can break lives, create enemies, and start wars, or it can give wisdom, heal divisions, and create peace. This has always been so, yet in the modern age the positive and negative potentials of speech have been vastly multiplied by the tremendous increase in the means, speed, and range of communications. The capacity for verbal expression, oral and written, has often been regarded as the distinguishing mark of the human species. From this we can appreciate the need to make this capacity the means to human excellence rather than, as too often has been the case, the sign of human degradation.” http://www.thesecularbuddhist.com/nep_04.php

Living in such a verbal society, we must take extra special care of our words, both verbal and written.  It is an increasingly difficult thing to do, in my opinion, when we are living “virtual lives” more and more with the internet.  We have an “online presence” as much as our real physical presence.  It is up to the individual how closely the two are related.

What we say, both physically in face to face encounters, as well as in a virtual community or forum may have varying degrees of impact, dependent upon who is actually listening.  The fact of the matter remains – whether it is virtual or physical, there is an impact.  For someone to be cruel to another person online could have devastating consequences (as we have seen recently with the suicide of two teenagers bullied on a social media forum).  A person may be attacked by an online community, and feel no repercussions whatsoever.  In a face to face situation, the reverse might happen.  One thing remains – we are personally responsible for our own behaviour, for we cannot control the behaviour of others. We can lead by example, but underlying fundamental control of others is beyond our grasp.

I have been verbally attacked on social media forums, bullied and trolled.  As yet, it still does not get any easier with time.  I stand by the view that the internet is as much a tool for sensitive souls as it is abused by being a playground for trolls.  I do not think that sensitive souls should have to “toughen up” in order to be online or to deal with face to face encounters. I think that people should be responsible and culpable for their actions, whether virtual or real, and take others thoughts and feelings into consideration.

As a recent example, a friend of mine told me that there is now a new term in a couple of UK LRP (LARP) communities/systems which is replacing a previous term.  He finds this fascinating, as he loves studying etymology.  It is indeed food for thought!  The previous term within the community was “special snowflake”, something that people used to deride another person on the basis that snowflake in question thought of themselves as being unique, and therefore life should go according to their own terms on this basis.  The new term that has cropped up to replace this,  is “bluebell”.

Now, some of you may know of my decision to abstain from a particular company due to the reason that I cannot condone the fact that each spring they hold battles in woodland that is carpeted with the most brilliant bluebells.  For an in depth look at this, please see my previous post “ Druidry and Choices” here: https://downtheforestpath.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/druidry-and-choices/.  It would appear that some players have decided to take it upon themselves to take this particular subject and twist it around to insinuate that I was a “special snowflake”.  There was some agreement by players on a social media board, before it exploded and abuse and trolling were hurled by some members.  All I asked what if others felt the same way as I did about protecting what I saw as a beautiful woodland – I did not, in fact, want to change the system to suit my needs.

And so, the new term “bluebell” has been born to denote a self-centred, self-indulgent ignorant person who wants to have their own way as opposed to someone who loves and cares for the environment.  This was, in all honesty, quite hurtful for me to hear, and I wondered at the people who would twist such a simple stance to suit their own agenda.

Then it got me thinking.

So, why on earth would someone want to do such a thing?  The obvious response is that it makes them feel better about themselves by putting someone or something down.  I cannot know for certain, however that this is the case.  Looking at popular culture, however, would seem to indicate that this may, indeed be the way that things are heading.  Why? Because more and more we see people criticising others using derogatory terms.  Instead of discussion, debate and honest criticism, we see through television and other media people judging other people with harsher and harsher verbal terminology.  Just watch any “reality” television show where they have judges – how many judges simply put a value on a performance without becoming personal?  There is a growing trend for celebrity television judges to make it personal, to get people on their side, to appear “cool” or “funny”.  This is also the case in everyday life.

In our ever-growing faceless society, the need to “save face” is, ironically, coming to the fore.  With an unseen audience of who knows how many, we feel we have to witty and clever. (Yes, I do see the irony in putting this in an online blog).  For some, the easiest way to do this is by putting another person down – in essence, to be “bigger and more clever”.  Well, as the British saying goes – it’s not big and it’s not clever.

Having spoken to people in science based professional fields, there still seems that there is the ability for disagreement on a subject to occur within the professional sphere without someone feeling the need to act “big and clever”.  Of course, there are always exceptions, but generally debate is still held within certain bounds of respect and integrity that may be lacking in popular culture debates and interactions.  They are able to criticise things without being derogatory, something which I think is falling by the wayside in mainstream society.  I’m still mulling this one over, and your thoughts would be appreciated!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – you don’t need to blow out someone else’s candle for yours to burn all the brighter.  We can use words and speech, whether online or offline to interact with each other respectfully.  In Zen, it is agreed that we cannot control the behaviour of others, and so to ponder why people do the things they do is, in fact, a bit of a waste of time.  But I still do wonder why people do the things they do – I can’t help it, and I’m working on it as much as I can – I’m no Buddha.  I find it easy to have pity for people, however, pity requires making a judgement call on their life which may or may not be true – ie. I pity someone because they must have such a dull life they have to hurt other people to make themselves feel better.  This isn’t right, I know.  What I should be doing is having compassion for people – compassion, unlike pity, requires a total lack of judgement on the individual’s part.

Compassion is both the easiest thing and the damned hardest thing in the world.  To learn the ways of compassion, one must first release the notion of the self, the ego that one clings to, in order to see that we are all related, that we are all connected – that there are no “special snowflakes” or even “bluebells” 🙂   There is no one to hurt and be hurt by.  We are all Buddhas.  By taking advice from Buddha’s Eightfold Path, we can learn how to live more compassionately.  By focusing this Lammastide on Right Speech, I hope to change my behaviour so that I may benefit the world and not just my own agenda.  Like racism, sexism and a host of other human ills, hateful speech is learned behaviour.  The good thing about that is that it can be unlearned.

Like I said, I’m working on it.

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Mutt Druidry

Growing up in Canada, with Dutch parents and being first generation Canadian, I’ve always felt a little bit of a mutt when it came to spirituality. I was confirmed at our church when I was in primary school, hating staying after class to do religious studies when I’d rather be running outside beneath the birch trees or biking down the road with my brother and sister.  I never felt a very strong connection to the Christian God or to Jesus himself, though as I’ve grown older I have developed a deep respect for Jesus and his teaching, much as I have for Buddha.  Christianity did not, for me, help to explain why nature did what it did – and so I looked further afield,  finding inspiration in Aesop’s fables, which became a dog-eared book read and re-read time and again. I also found deep meaning in Native American mythology, which spoke of the natural world around me that I was familiar with – the Great Lakes, the mountains and deciduous forest, the animals that roamed within it.

It saddens me that the Lakota, Dakota and Nakota nations felt they had to pass their Declaration of War back in 1993 against the theft of their spiritual beliefs.  (To see the full Declaration, please visit http://www.aics.org/war.html).  I fully understand, and yet have always felt a little bereft – the native spirituality helped me to make sense of the natural world in which I lived in, in the forests of Quebec.  The seasons were beautifully explained by ancient myths, as was the behaviour of animals and much, much more.  They spoke of creatures and countryside that I was familiar with.  For long I have worried that I would be seen to be “stealing” from a culture not my own.  It was so at odds with some other religious and spiritual beliefs, such as Buddhism, which as far as I am aware has never been concerned with cultural theft, even though it too has been oppressed in many places.  I understood the need for the Declaration, and yet I did not – it is a difficult thing to get my head around.

Eventually, when I came to Druidry, I realised that it was all about language – Druidry was the language that I could use to communicate with others  and to commune with nature.  It did not matter what religious tradition I followed; I could still use the same vocabulary to describe them in a way that made sense to me, and to others who followed this path.  Through Druidry, my awareness of both myself and other religious traditions expanded, and I learned a lot more about theology.  I came to know my ancestral gods of Anglo and Saxon culture.  I even tried taking them back to Canada with me to honour and commune with them there – but I just couldn’t “feel” them there.  It was much easier to honour the ravens and the bears, the Great Spirit – how much of that was out of habit, and how much of that dictated by the concept of place, I wonder?

Studying more and more, I realised that some ceremonies that would be considered Native American are shared throughout the world’s religious traditions.  When I make a smudge stick from mugwort growing in my garden, am I imitating Native American culture, or Scots Gaelic saining?  At Druid Camp, when I attend a sweat lodge, am I treading upon Native American ceremonies, or participating in millennia old traditions of our palaeolithic British ancestors?  When I call upon the elements in ritual, using words such as the Great Eagle, exactly which tradition am I honouring? In my craft name of Autumn Song, I have taken two things that I love most and created a name for myself. Am I thieving, have I started a war?

I have no desire to “go native” – I am not Native American.  But I honour their beliefs, as I honour those of my Christian family members. I honour my Buddhist friends, my Wiccan friends, my Druid friends.  I honour my atheist husband.  I can see and understand all points of view, and they are all a part of my life.  Some of the  Haudenosaunee myths and traditions made perfect sense to me as a child growing up in the Eastern Woodlands.  The Abrahamic God eluded me, but his son was a bit of a dude whom I grew to respect.  The Lord and Lady made themselves known to me as a young adult back in the early 90’s.  The Celtic gods and goddesses and the Northern gods and goddesses then followed.  I learned about Buddha and Zen, and found merit in all these teachings.  I see so many similarities between Druidry and eastern traditions, such as Zen – as you know, I’ve written a book about combining the two.  It’s nice to know I’m not the only one making these connections either – see OBOD’s page here for more information on Druidry and other paths http://www.druidry.org/druid-way/druidry-other-paths.

So where exactly do I fit in then?

I’ve previously coined my form of Druidry as Mutt Druidry, in an article written for The Druid Network.  Growing up surrounded by so many spiritual beliefs, living in so many parts of the world, hungry for knowledge and desiring deep connection with the natural world around me, I have learned and still continue to learn from all traditions.  Is there something fundamentally wrong with this, and if so, what is it?

Blessings on your journey. x