soul

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Book Review: Soul Shift by Rachel Macy Stafford

Soul Shift: The Weary Human’s Guide to Getting Unstuck and Reclaiming Your Path to Joy is a wonderful book, filled with wisdom and insight. Through the sharing of personal experience, vulnerability and little victories the author leads us on a journey towards finding our most authentic way of being, and how to show up for our lives. Showing up as our authentic self is not an easy thing in today’s world, however, Soul Shift guides us through the journey in small, easy steps and with inspirational mantras that we can use to return home to ourselves.

What struck me first and foremost was when I read “Just because you made mistakes doesn’t mean you are forever defined by them. Just because you took an unauthentic path doesn’t mean that you must stay the course.” So often we feel guilt and shame over our past mistakes, and we continue to beat ourselves up about them. Through the author’s insight, there is the dawning realisation that mistakes will be made, we will at times be unfaithful to our true self, we will make mistakes and choices that don’t accord with our deep self, but that these are learning points and not shameful events that we must punish ourselves over with again and again. What doesn’t work, the choices that we make that aren’t true to our nature and our own will: these can often tell us so much about how we should be in the world. What doesn’t work can be our greatest teacher.

The “Dreamer Girl”, that authentic part of the self that the author shares with us, resonated deeply with me. I have my own Dreamer Girl, a time before I was inundated with the world’s opinions on how I should be, where I should be, what I should be doing. I have been returning to my Dreamer Girl over these last few years, and a feeling of “coming home to myself” has been strong. Our true selves are always with us. My Dreamer Girl has always been there, and it’s through paying attention to ourselves that we can rediscover that part of our being. Take good care of your “Dreamer Girl”, for it is a part of you that can be your guiding light in the world. I know she is mine.

The author also touches upon a subject regarding how women are often pressured to give and give until there’s nothing left. We must be selfless in order to be worthy. But how she phrased it, by showing us that selfless means “less of self” we can begin to understand how this is not a sustainable way of being. We must learn to take care of ourselves, set clear boundaries that are in accord with our authentic selves, and listen to ourselves. “The practice of True Self-Worth is one of the most transformative practices I’ve cultivated on the journey. It has empowered me to make choices by heart, according to my core values and beliefs, rather than by societal standards or the expectations of others.” She talks about not throwing good energy at bad situations, and how to keep toxic elements out of our lives by protecting ourselves with our own inner guardians.

When we are portraying a false or fake image of ourselves, we are unable to make true, authentic connection. When we are being authentic and true, that’s when the real connection happens and you are able to see it spreading out into the wider world. Your own genuine connections will be stronger for it, for people will be connecting to the true you, not the person you are pretending to be on any given day. Those genuine connections are where love sits deeply and comfortably, both in yourself and with others. “Know these acts of acceptance will lead to more significant surrenders that will bring unexpected joy and peace to your life.” The ability to love and be loved is when we are being our most authentic selves.

Kindness creates peace, as the author so beautifully states. She also mentions how growth and healing are fluid processes, rather than being competitive in nature. “I promised right then and there to reserve ‘best ever’ status to recipes, not humans”. I also took away her words that “Someone else’s opinion is not my truth”. Words to live by.  I was also blown by the realisation that other people’s disappointments in me need not shatter my own peace and my own life. I feel that this may be a very powerful way of moving forward in my own life. She states “There’s no peace worth keeping if it requires me to betray myself and what I hold most dear.”  We have to be okay with other people’s disappointments in us. In fact, should this happen to me again, I will be using the quote “I am okay with your disappointment in me,” rather than betray a part of myself through sublimation.

Every day our stories are being written. Every day we have an opportunity to show up in our life. This book is not a book about how to be perfect, but rather how to be a perfectly imperfect human being filled with grace and peace, leaning from the stepping stones of our past in order to walk awake and aware into our future. This moment, right now, is what matters most; not yesterday, not tomorrow, but this present moment. It’s the only moment we can truly show up for, in all honesty.

We can all learn how to “walk differently in the world”. Taking steps that are right for us. Connecting with our deep sense of self, who we are, what we will and will not tolerate, what brings us peace and joy. We can make soul-deep connections that nurture and sustain us, rather than upset or drain us. By listening to our self, by being true to who we are, by coming into our own authenticity we can move forward as sovereign beings that make a real difference to the world, simply by showing up and being free.

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Womb energy? Womb Space? Nope.

I have a lovely book which I’m re-reading, about empowering the wild woman within, manifesting her in all her glory. This book is filled with beautiful poetry and great exercises, written from the heart from a Woman Most Wild. And yet – and yet…

It’s one of many books about female empowerment that talks about working with the energy that originates in your womb space. While this book does state that you can do this even without a womb, it still annoys me, going against the grain of my very feminine soul. Like so many others talking about energetic womb space, many in the Pagan community with feminist goals are still being held back by a woman’s reproductive organs. At least, that’s just my opinion. I’m sure many will disagree.

Maiden, Mother, Crone. Right there, we have the Divine Feminine in a nutshell for so many Pagan paths, and yet it is one that is defined by a woman’s reproductive cycle. We are told that we can feel Her in our own womb spaces, whether we still have them or not. She is defined by her womb that birthed the universe. Is the Divine Masculine defined by his phallus? The Cerne Abbus Giant might say so, but his club is a lot bigger.

His name was Cedric Alton.

Even when I still had a womb, before the hysterectomy that gave me my life back after 30 years of living with fibroids and cysts, even then I never connected to the Divine Feminine through womb energy. I knew from a very early age that I would never birth any children physically. I never wanted to. My dolls were my friends, not children I wanted to raise. Even my Cabbage Patch dolls that I wanted so much (because everyone else had one), even then, after the first day I was tired of taking care of them as children, and they immediately “grew up” to become companions. I have never wanted children in my life. A day spent with someone who has young children reinforces this each and every time. I’m too sensitive, I like quiet and peace and being able to have the freedom to do whatever I wish or need to do at any given moment. My womb was never going to be used for what it was meant for.

Before anyone goes all “Lousie Hay” on me, I will stipulate that I firmly do not believe that my desire to not have children caused my condition. I am a staunch believer that genetics, diet, lifestyle and good/bad luck are the reasons for medical conditions. I think that if we begin to believe otherwise, we are instilling a process of blame and shame for medical conditions. Yes, the body and mind are one, and do affect the other to a certain degree, but I believe that this is taken way too far in many people’s opinions that have absolutely no basis in scientific fact. I am a very practical Pagan. I am happy to dance with the faeries in the moonlight and have a great interest in herbal medicine, but I also feel very strongly about getting all my vaccines and using the benefits that modern medicine can provide. Others may feel differently, and I respect their opinion, though I might not share them.

My womb is like my appendix. It’s a part of me, but if it isn’t working properly, it’s better to have it out. All my life I had painful periods, and was only diagnosed as the womb was being cut out of my body and the real extent of the damage from my condition became known. How much of my life was lived in pain I can only attest to now, because I am free from that pain. It’s like having a whole new life. Sure, I’ve got other problems – don’t we all – and I still ache with arthritis and manage my asthma as best I can. But I’ve got my life back. My womb space caused me nothing but pain since puberty. That’s not something I’m going to celebrate. Like an ancestor who caused you pain, you can acknowledge that they were a part of your life, but you don’t have to celebrate them.

Besides, I am more than my womb.

My womb does not make me a woman. It does not make me what or who I am today, nor did it ever define me in the past. I am more than my womb. I don’t and never have fit into the Maiden Mother Crone categories. I am me, a part of everything and beholden to no one thing.

A poster I had on the wall for many, many years: Light in the Forest by Sue Dawe

Was I a “girly girl”? Yes, and no. Labels never really stuck very well on me. As a child I loved dresses and princesses and unicorns. I also loved knocking the ball out of the park when it was my turn at bat on the baseball ground. I played hockey with the boys at lunchtime at elementary school, and I figure skated by myself in the evenings at the outdoor rink. I adore belly dance and the wonderful costumes, but I wear jeans and shirts or leggings for the most part in the rest of my life. The Divine Feminine roared through my veins, but I also heeded the rallying cry of the Divine Male and everything in between. Baseball isn’t masculine, and unicorns aren’t feminine. These are just “tools” we use to put everything into neat little boxes, just like the terms Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine.

Weapons, a chariot and cats. Who needs anything more?

I have loved The Goddess all my life. It began when I was very young, and had a book about Greek myths. Artemis and Atalanta, these two ladies were my inspiration, my guiding force. Artemis, the eternal maiden, strong and free, what a role model. Running through the forests, standing under the moonlight, beholden to no one. That was The Goddess for me, and still is today, though in many other forms alongside this one. I have always loved independent female deity: Brighid, Freya, Morrigan, Andraste. Give me these ladies over an Earth Mother any day.

Some of these ladies are extremely sexual and sensual. Good for them, and good for me and all women! I’ve always embraced my sexuality and sensuality. Combined with the intimacy of a good, strong relationship there really isn’t anything better. But did I feel Their energy in my womb centre? Nope. Not once. Where did I feel Them? In my heart. Always, in my heart. That energetic centre swells just thinking about these ladies, just as it does when I think about whatever it means to be in the Divine Feminine category. Same for the Divine Masculine category. My power lies in my heart chakra, not my womb space. My love for this planet comes straight out of my chest, filling my soul with a brilliant light that guides me through the darkest of nights.

So each time I read a passage in a book, or attend a workshop that mentions moving into my womb space, I just have to grin and bear it, and shift the energy up higher, to where it belongs: in my heart. I am not my womb space, and no woman should be defined by that, whether they have them or not. Perhaps if we drop the labels we give to divinity, and forego Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine, then we will truly see that the energy really does emanate from the heart for both, or All, instead of from Their, and our, reproductive bits.

We are star-stuff, as is everything. You can’t define something like that with any more clarity. Or by their physiology. You just have to accept it, and love from that wonderful energy centre that we all have: our hearts.  

Heart energy centre/chakra. Right there in the middle of all things.
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A Pure Moment

Have you ever had a pure moment? A moment when there is nothing to worry about, no future, no past, just this present moment, now?

These past two weeks, I’ve had many of the beautiful moments, out on the heath with the deer. Making the effort, despite the rain, the mud, the cold wind and mist that gets into your bones has paid off in an abundance of these moments. It takes a while, sometimes, for them to happen, as you walk and think and think and walk and lose yourself in your turbulent mind. But then you spot a deer, or the sunlight on a mushroom, or a leaf twirling on a spider’s strand, and suddenly it all stops. You stop. You are caught in the moment, where all thoughts have ceased and you are just held by the beauty of the present moment.

It’s important to have these moments. For they are the reset button of the soul. When I gaze into the eyes of a doe, or a stag, the world falls away and all that matters is right now, this very moment. My troubles are later put into perspective, when thought returns. My body pauses, utterly motionless, in an otherworldly rest. My soul opens, and a true connection is made with the world, without thought, without bias, without prejudice.

No matter where you are, you can have these moments. Watching the sun move across a wall, or the shadows of a tree branch in the moonlight. Standing in the night breeze, listening to the sounds in the darkness all around you. Smelling the scent of woodsmoke on a country road, or hearing the song of a robin in the bush next to you. Stop, and take this moment, a pure moment. Reset your soul. And gaze into the eyes of the universe.

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Reblog: The Soul Behind the Soul

Here is a taster of my latest blog post for SageWoman’s channel at Witches and Pagans – to read the full article, click HERE. Exploring the soul behind the soul, the boundless nature of existence, love, compassion and more, with some Carl Sagan thrown in 🙂

Hildegard von Bingen wrote: “The soul is not in the body; the body is in the soul.” (Vol XXII, No. 5). This is a concept that I’ve been thinking about all week, and how we have tried to place unnatural limitations upon the body and soul based on our dualistic way of thinking. I suppose a true Zen answer would be the body is the soul and the soul is the body, but right now I’m enjoying thinking that the soul contains the body. Next week I’ll probably veer off into a more Zennist approach.

For this to happen, the soul must accept the body, not the other way around. As I’m not entirely certain that there is even such as thing as an individual soul, it’s an interesting concept. What if the “life force” on this little ball of rock hurtling through space is all soul, all an expression of soul? What if everything is an expression of the Earth’s soul, or the soul of the universe?

In Druidry many see the gods as being many, in a polytheistic approach. Some see them all as aspects of one deity, or of nature itself as a single entity, which is a more pantheistic approach. But what lies beyond the concepts of polytheism and pantheism? I don’t know yet, I just thought I’d throw that question out there.

After many brilliant short essays on the nature of the soul in a Celtic context, Tom Cowan towards the end of his fabulous book, Yearning for the Wind tantalises us with something similar. In an exercise that he suggests, we are offered the opportunity to try to see the soul behind the soul. While Cowan seems to willingly accept a single Creator deity (which doesn’t feel right to me, I’m much more of a “everything is soul and soul is everything” without the need for any one Creator or Creatrix) he does speak of a certain “yearning” for the soul to express itself. For me, this is close to what I’m currently exploring in terms of everthing being an expression of either a collective soul or an ongoing soul that has no begninning and that has no end. I’m not satisfied with the Big Bang Theory (the scientific theory, I love the show), in that there has to be a starting point for all creation. I see the universe as constantly being in flow, things arising and falling away, matter being transformed into other things along the way. Carl Sagan said “ The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apples pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff.” I’ve no burning need to document a start point for this process, for I simply don’t see one; when does the life cycle of an oak tree begin? When the acorn grows on the branch? When it falls to the ground? When the seedling emerges from the soil? Half of me existed as an egg in my mother’s womb while she was growing in her own mother’s womb. When did I start to be?

Continued – to read the full article, click HERE.

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Boundless

Yesterday I was able to catch up with two friends from high school – we three haven’t been together for around 13 years. Having friends that you can talk to, about absolutely anything, and know that they’re really listening, that they’re there for you, that they love you no matter what distance lies between you or how much time has passed is one of life’s greatest blessings. I am so utterly blessed in that I have made some truly wonderful and remarkable friends both where I grew up in Canada and where I have lived for the past 18 years in the UK.

Today I am also helping my Mom host a huge family reunion BBQ in our backyard. We have nearly 40 people coming, some family members I haven’t seen for twenty years, cousins I used to babysit who now have children of their own. We’ve always had a close family, spending every weekend at the grandparents’ when we were little, all the cousins playing while the aunts and uncles talked about grown-up things with my Oma and Opa. It’s so amazing that we’re all still able to get together, to laugh and to celebrate simply being alive on this gorgeous autumnal day. I’m sure my Oma and Opa would have loved to have seen everyone together again, and I shall be having a glass of punch for both of them who live on inside me, looking out through my eyes and the eyes and hearts of the rest of the family in this beautiful part of the world.

A loving family is a real treasure. Good friends are a true blessing. Never take these for granted. Breathe, smile, and be in the moment. Be present for them, and take them deep into your heart. Love and joy are boundless, and like the soul cannot be contained within the body. The soul is the container for the body, not the other way around, and the soul expands outwards as far as the horizon can see.

Today, my soul is flying high in the clearest of blue skies, riding autumnal breezes, smiling from my heart and enjoying my Mom’s delicious punch.

May your soul be free as well. x

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Friendship

P1060444Friendship is one of the greatest gifts we can have on this planet. I am blessed, in that I have a loving family and lots of good friends. In the last six to eight years I’ve developed close bonds with my girlfriends, and it is something that I treasure deeply.

Where two souls meet, in open honesty, with no agenda there is a beautiful, wonderful, inspiring interaction of heart meeting heart. In all our gloriousness and with all our faults, we can be who we truly are and in that honesty, are accepted for who we are. My friends are there to help when I need help, to point out where I might be wrong in a situation, to advise when I might be right, and to not judge me either way. I’m filled with gratitude for having friends like these.

For me, there is a special closeness, a special bonding with my girlfriends. Perhaps it is because we understand each other, have many similar shared experiences in our lives. Maybe it’s just our souls connecting with honesty. Whatever it is, it fills me with joy and inspiration. I love being with them, hearing their laughter, sharing their tears, wrapping my arms around them and having them hold me in return. With belly-shaking guffaws, snorts, farts, burps and all, they are my best friends.

Many of my girlfriends have a love of dance – quite a few of them are fellow belly dancers. We find a freedom in movement, a sense of belonging to a tribe who love to dance, who love music, who love to be in each other’s company in that setting and in others. I believe that as a species we were meant to dance, that it opens up our hearts and souls and allows us to speak without words. It allows us freedom from fear, from inhibition, from the walls that we surround ourselves with each and every day.

And so I’m looking forward to getting back to Glastonbury with one of my best friends, who couldn’t be with us last time we all went together. Spending time together laughing and enjoying good food. Spending time together in silence. Spending time together singing along to every Taylor Swift song from every album in the car drive down. Keeping each other awake on the car ride back. Experiencing a shared boundary and having a shared experience – that is what life is all about. So many things are better when they are shared.

To all my girlfriends, I love you with all my heart. You are my sisters, my inspiration, my joy. x

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Thank you!

I just wanted to say a big thank you to all who have taken the time to read this blog, and all the lovely comments, emails and messages that I have received. And a big hello to all the new followers that have come on board over these last two weeks – wow!  This is what it’s all about – sharing ideas, being open and simply travelling together on this journey called life.

As I walked through the woods today of my childhood home, I noticed that all the paths that I had made, and that others had made when I was younger, were for the most part no longer there. However, new paths had emerged, with a different focus on another part of the landscape that is equally beautiful.  The stream where I used to sit was a wide open space, with the ancient pine tree guardians waiting for me each time, whispering their secrets and allowing me entrance to The Hill when I asked for their permission.  Now that stream is fully overgrown with deciduous trees in the summer, and it has become an enclosed space, a beautiful little faery nook where the bridge is much better tended across the stream, and where I can sit and watch the dragonflies and the fish, the light dappling the leaves of the birch trees, those ancient pines still whispering behind all the new foliage.

Where I used to stand and watch the sunset over the valley was just a tiny little space off the path. Now, that space has been slightly enlarged, and reinforced against erosion (we have very sandy soil on the plateau). A single bench has just been put in this week. Now the space that I enjoyed for so many years is accessible to all who pass by, to take the time to sit and look out over the beauty that I call home.  A part of me is sad that my little spot is now public, another part glad that it can inspire so many more people who otherwise would not have seen it.  The beauty that is life is not just for me, I remind myself with a wry grin.

Things never stay the same.  And yet, some things are constant.  Like that view.

The forest and The Hill, the valley and the river are all the same, and yet they have changed, new things growing, trees where once daisies grew, new streams finding their way through to the bigger waters.  It is like that with us humans too – we have an essential self, even though we are constantly growing, changing.  That essential self can shine through if we let it – no matter how far we may have strayed, no matter how outwardly changed we may appear, no matter what people say, we are still that same self, or at the very least contain large aspects of that self.  That self is not alone, yet it is an individual.  It is a thread in the tapestry of life, a beautiful thread that crosses the warp and weft of experience. We may sometimes drop that thread, but it is up to us to pick it up and reweave it back in a harmonious pattern with the rest of the tapestry.  Together, we create something truly remarkable, yet we are all just a coming together of single threads. The tapestry is eternal, and yet always changing, new patterns forming, new images and ideas spreading.

Like the forest stream where I can retreat to, it changes and yet remains the same.

Like the view of the valley, it changes, and yet remains the same.

Like the coming together of souls, they change and yet remain the same.

A friend once said “The first prayer one should learn is Thank You”.  And so, thank you, to the awen, that inspiration, those trees and hills of home, and to all of you out there. x

 

P.S. In the last year, I have over 15,000 views on my blog, and have had people from 84 countries read my blog, from places such as Mongolia, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Belarus, Slovakia, Bangladesh, Thailand, Canada, Republic of Korea, Brazil, Australia, New Zealand, Iceland, United Kingdom, Lithuania, Bahrain, USA, United Arab Emirates and so many more – thank you everyone! This is truly incredible… I am truly honoured.

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Soul Retrieval and the Essential Self

In many of the works that I am currently reading, and most recently understood in Nimue’s Druid mid-life crisis blog http://druidlife.wordpress.com/2013/07/02/midlife-crisis-druid-style/#comments, I am coming across the words and the ideas of “soul retrieval” and the “essential self” more and more.

Having recently undergone a “dark night of the soul” this autumn and winter, perhaps it is fitting that I should now be coming across this soul retrieval business.  I feel a longing, a kind of hiraeth (not of Wales, but of the past) for the person that I used to be.  Maybe it is being now in a mid-life awareness (I hate the word crisis, it’s not like it’s life threatening).

At the age of fifteen and sixteen, I knew that my life would be changing in so many ways.  College was just around the corner, and I would be leaving home, leaving behind my family, the home I grew up in and the mountains in which my soul had nestled, sheltered within their softly undulating, forest-covered beauty.  I would be leaving for the city, for places with public transport and concrete, full of people and movement, filled with the songs of humanity.

Knowing that this change was fast upon me, I spent every wakeful moment I could embedding in my memory the beauty of those times.  The way the setting sunlight hit the walls in my peach coloured bedroom, the smell of our house; the sounds and sights that were so familiar to me I actively opened myself too again in order to preserve them forever. Perhaps, without knowing it, preserving them again for when I had need.

I spend as much time as I could outside in my old haunts, the woods that rolled along the mountainsides, the valley where the horses spent the summer, along the river edge watching the undines.  Walking around the house, I would talk to the trees and the plants, thanking them for what they meant to me growing up surrounded by their embrace – the cedar hedge, the birch and oak trees, the rowan and the blue spruces, the yew beneath my window.

I also recalled and burned into my mind the memory every bit of the long-haired boy that I loved, not knowing what would be in store for us in the future.

It was a time when I knew who I was, and knowing that it was all about to change made it that much more important to remember.  I was a dreamer, a writer, a poet.  I had a strong set of ethics and ideals on which I would not compromise.  I was a thinker, a fey, one who watched from the edges.  It was a time when I let my essential self shine through, without barrier, without fear. Perhaps it was in naivety, perhaps it was in courage, but it was there for the world to see.  The ego, driven by past experiences, had not yet been coloured yet by the hardships to come, the highs and the lows.  It did not know better.

Lately I’ve felt a strong sense of wanting to return to her, to that girl in the mountains with her hopes and dreams, who allowed her essential self to guide her.  Funnily enough, some of those dreams have come true.  I am a writer, but I also feel the need to return to the dreamer.  To return to a time in life when I deliberately slowed everything down, in order to savour each and every moment.  To be utterly connected with everything.   It was a wise decision then, and I am so glad to my former self that I did it, for now I have such beautiful memories.  A lot of my friends seem to be on similar journeys as well right now.  Is it because we are all of an age?  Synchronicity? Or something else?

I’m shortly going on a two week vacation back home to Canada, and feel that this trip will be encompassing all those ideas, of returning, of remembering, of soul retrieval.  I left a part of her back there, while I was so focused on my intent.  I left a part of her there when I moved to the city, then across the country, then to another country altogether.  Maybe I need her back.

At any rate, I look forward to meeting her.

The essential self is innocent, and when it tastes its own innocence knows that it lives forever. – John Updike

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Druidry – What is Awen?

In Druidry, we learn often hear the word, awen, being used, but what exactly is awen?   Loosely translated from Welsh, it means flowing spirit, or flowing inspiration.  Awake to our own energy, and stretching out towards the energy of nature around us, we begin to see just what awen is.  It is an opening of one’s self, of one’s spirit or soul, in order to truly and very deeply see.  When we are open, we can receive that divine gift, inspiration that flows, whether it is from deity, nature, or whatever it is that you choose to focus on.

For awen to exist, there must be relationship.  We cannot be inspired unless we are open, and we cannot be open unless we have established a relationship, whether that is with the thunder, the blackbird or a god.  It is cyclical in nature; we open and give of ourselves and in doing so we receive, and vice versa.  Letting go, releasing into that flow of awen allows it to flow ever more freely, and we find ourselves inspired not only in fits and bursts of enlightenment or inspiration, but all the time, carrying that essence of connection and wonder with us at all times.  There is, of course, a line to be drawn, for we can’t be off our heads in ecstatic relationship with everything all the time.

But just what is awen?  It is an awareness, not just on a physical and mental level but on a soul deep level – an awareness of the entirety of existence, of life itself.  It is seeing the threads that connect us all.  It is the deep well of inspiration that we drink from, to nurture our souls and our world and to give back in joy, in reverence, in wild abandon and in solemn ceremony.

Many are familiar with the Welsh tale/myth of Cerridwen and her cauldron, the three drops of awen falling onto Gwion’s finger and bringing his wisdom in the form of poetic inspiration, shape-shifting and prophecy.  Some liken this story to a Bardic initiation, or the three grades of Bard, Ovate and Druid.  In any case, drinking from the cauldron of the Goddess is to drink deeply of awen.

Many Druid rituals begin or end with singing or chanting the awen. When doing so, the word is stretched to three syllables, sounding like ah-oo-wen.  It is a lovely sound, that opens up the heart and soul. Sung/chanted together, or in rounds, it simply flows, as its namesake determines.  Our hearts literally can open if we let them when chanting or singing the awen.

Yet I am sure that the awen is different for each and every Druid.  The connection, and the resulting expression of that connection, the Druid’s own creativity, can be so vast and diverse.  It is what is so delicious about it – we inhale the awen and exhale our own creativity in song, in dance, in books, in protest marches – the possibilities are endless, as is the awen itself.