winter

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Reblog from SageWoman: The Darkness Within

shadowself

Reblogged from my channel at SageWoman:http://www.witchesandpagans.com/Druid-Heart

The winter solstice is fast upon us, even though technically the shortest night has already been upon us (for a brain-thumping explanation, see http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2013/12/the-astronomical-hijinks-of-the-shortest-day-of-the-year/282109/).  Thoughts turn inwards at this time of year, when in the darkness we are confronted with our shadow selves, should we choose to face them.  We have the opportunity to learn more of ourselves, and in doing so, better serve not only ourselves but the world.

Performing a meditative journey, I met with my shadow self – that part of your self that you fear, that you loathe, that you don’t understand as well as those things that cause you pain, grief, rage, etc.  This confrontation was very interesting – my shadow self described to me all the things that she thought I was, as well as all the emotions that crippled me. She delighted in telling me them, it seemed – with each utterance she thought she had gained power over me.  The words hit me and reverberated throughout my body – I literally felt them, each and every one.  When she was done I was still standing, though shaky.

I knew that in order to gain some semblance of control, I needed to know her name and so I asked. She refused to tell me, delighting instead in playing games. I finally had enough of it all, and named her myself in words strong and full of intention – “You will not give me your name, and therefore I will name you myself. You are Joanna Alida van der Hoeven.”

She deflated, knowing that I had named her correctly.  “I know who you are,” I said.  “You are all that I fear to be, all that I have been in the past for good or ill and all that I might be in the future.  But you are merely a potential.  The past is gone, and I am not the same person I was then. The future has not happened yet, and so no one dictates that for me. In the present moment, I simply am who I am, free to be who I wish, decried by my words and deeds and actions.” I remembered the words to my favourite film, Jim Henson’s Labyrinth, and faced my shadow self, stating “You have no power over me”.

The encounter was over, and I had emerged tired but triumphant.  Haunted by some aspects of the past, I have realised that they do not dictate who I am now. The past is there to inform us so that we do not make the same mistakes again.  The past informs the present and the future.  We are not our past, just as we are not our future – we can only be who we are in this present moment.  Our lives are filled with potential for good and bad and we can either let fear dictate our actions and allow past mistakes to re-emerge, or we can accept it; we can own our mistakes and become simply the best people we can be at this moment in time.

I have had a mantra over the last few months, that when I question my motives, or feel fear or grief or rage, happiness or unhappiness, I ask myself this – “Whom does this serve?” Taken straight out of Grail mythology, this question is the one that must be asked upon directly viewing the Grail in order to heal the wounded Fisher King.  These four words contain so much power, and have so many different meanings.  It questions us to look deep within ourselves, but also to the greater world at large.  It deeply explores our intention, which to me is one of the greatest powers one can have both within Druidry and the world.  Intention is at the core of every action we make – but we must look deeply at the intention before we act, if possible, in order to ensure that our actions are honourable.

In the darkness, the shadow self has power.  What we are unaware of deep within our selves can control us in so many ways. We must learn to confront our shadow selves, to acknowledge them, to own our past and our mistakes, our fears and our grief, in order to tumble out towards the light once again, ever repeating this cycle even as the seasons change and the tides turn. The awen lies all around us within nature – all we have to do is open our eyes to see it.

(The journey meditation that I performed was part of a series contained in Jenah Telhyndru’s Avalon Within: A Sacred Journey of Myth, Mystery and Inner Wisdom.)

Blog image is from a quilt taken from The Free Motion Quilting Project: http://freemotionquilting.blogspot.co.uk/2010/05/shadow-self-part-2.html

 

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Working with Kindness

Many religions and spiritualities the world over teach that kindness and compassion is the way to live your life in order the create harmony and peace not only for yourself, but for the rest of the world.  This is a form of service, which I think may be lacking in much of modern paganism.  It is in the service to others where we truly shine.  The Sisterhood of Avalon states it beautifully in a triad – service to the self, service to the Sisterhood and service to the Goddess.  Like most things, it starts from within and then spreads to the wider community and the world at large.  Sadly, perhaps due to the growing number of self-help books and various psychologies, this service tends to stop at the self.  Instant gratification in our capitalist society combined with living in relative ease can allow complacency in our lives and in our minds.  We can become grasping even, wanting to be healed, looking for that one thing or one person who will heal us, as we have been taught my marketing campaigns the world over.  Me, me me. I, I, I.

There seems to be a great need for healing in the world today.  Paganism embraces this healing with open arms, honouring it in all its various forms.  We are often told that we must first heal ourselves before we can heal others. In this, I very much agree.  It’s often the hardest thing to heal yourself – focusing on others is much easier than coming face to face with your own pain, grief, demons or shadow self.  However, we can become too engrossed in looking inwards that we forget to look outwards as well.  Too much self-awareness and not enough external awareness.  It can even border on or become egocentric.

The key here I believe lies in kindness.  Through these last few months, when the darkness of winter takes hold and we are gifted with the time and space to reflect, we can look at how we can be kind to ourselves.  This is the best thing we can do for ourselves in terms of our own healing.  It is easier to forgive others for hurting us, or causing us stress, grief or pain than it is to forgive ourselves for doing things that we regret.  Yet we must look at ourselves in the same light as we do others and be able to forgive ourselves in order to move the service from self to others, through the act of love and kindness.  This is our service to our self.

We have to be aware of our edges – we must create boundaries so that when we allow kindness to flow through us we have an awareness that not everyone will be kind in return.  This is not a shutting down or closing off of the soul to others – it is simply being prepared.  Like meeting a strange dog or cat for the first time, we are unsure as to how they will react, and so we proceed with caution.  We still show compassion and love and try to help them should they need it in any way possible. We will also do all that we can to prevent being bitten. This is our service to others.

I have been too open – I have not guarded my boundaries as well as I should have. I have loved freely and been bitten on the ass in return.  I have learned to use boundaries to let me help myself and to help others.  In Brian Froud’s latest faery oracle card deck, there is a card that I drew called The Lady of Faith.  She wears a helmet and shoulder armour, but her breast is bare of armour and she is leaning towards something with a hand to her heart.  This card shows that we must protect ourselves but still allow our hearts to move us in kindness and compassion.

I recently saw a documentary on Phil Robertson, of Duck Dynasty fame about how he transformed his life through his religion and coming to know God and Jesus.  While we may not share the same religious points of view we can agree that it all comes down to kindness.  He described when he was making a living fishing on the river and other “river rats” would come and steal from his nets.  After he had found Jesus, he worked with the idea of kindness and so, when he caught them stealing again, offered them the fish freely.  They took it and responded to his kindness by never stealing from him again.  Phil stated that he will act towards all things with kindness, but still carry a shotgun in case all things weren’t kind to him.

This is very similar to a Zen Buddhist story, where a monk is sitting and praying in his cave high on the mountaintop. A thief comes upon him and threatens him. The monk looks at the thief and states that if he wanted his possessions so badly, feeling he had to threaten and steal them, then he would freely give them if that was his need.  The thief left bewildered and the monk sat outside, looking up at the moon.  “If only I could have given him this beautiful moon”, he said. (Some argue that the monk should have done a Phil Roberston and had a shotgun as well, but that doesn’t fit in with the peaceful and non-violent ideals that the monk held to.)

Living to our ideals, exploring our shadow aspects (those aspects of the soul that we fear, that we loathe, that we deny) and giving back to the world results naturally in leading the way to the further service to the gods.  We dedicate our lives to kindness and compassion with full awareness and in doing so, reflect the true nature of not only our being, but of being.  For me, the gods that I follow all have an aspect of peace and kindness that we can find in their stories to inspire us along our own life’s journey.  Tyr, most often seen as a god of war and justice, to me also represents kindness to animals and loyalty as when he fed the wolf, Fenris, when no one else would.  Nehelennia, the goddess of the North Sea rages and leaves us with a fresh world – sometimes battered but ever inspired by the impermanence of all things.  Morrighan heals after the battles and rejuvenates after the blood is spilled.  Nemetona teaches of boundaries as well as love and peace.  In this I have dedicated myself to learning and being open to the awen of their songs.

Through coming into our own true potential, we are better able to serve ourselves, our community and our gods.  The key to it all is through kindness.  How very simple, how often this message had been repeated over thousands of years. How easy it is to forget in today’s society.  Yet when we open ourselves to the possibilities and let kindness lead us in our actions, peace and harmony are a natural result.

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Looking inwards

“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.” -Henry David Thoreau

As I have begun my journey into the descent of both the self and the dark half of the year, thoughts and feelings have arisen which require acknowledgement. It has often been said that those thoughts that we are unaware of, control us. Quite.

Just as we are not our jobs, our familial roles or any other singular label, so too are we not our past, nor our future. We can only be our present.  All too often I have beat myself up about what I have done in the past. After a couple of months of looking inwards and discovering these thought patterns, I have realised that I have to let go of what I thought of myself in the past.

In the past I have been selfish. In the past I have done things I am not proud of. However, that does not mean that I am selfish now, or that I will do these things again, now or in the future.  What happened does not define me in the present moment so much as inform me of how I got here. I am only the person I am now, typing up this blog post trying to make sense of the self and how it works.

It is a season for letting go and so, every time I have a thought on how I have failed, I remind myself that this was something that happened in the past and, in truth, is not who I am now. It is extremely liberating, and enables me to be the best person I can be right now, as opposed to living in destructive and judgemental behaviour about what I have done.  I can certainly be critical of things, looking at them with detachment and learning from it, however no condemnation can be made because it no longer exists.  Often in Zen we hear of teachers asking students who bring up past faults and issues “Yes, but where is this now?”  Baffled, the student cannot answer, for it does not exist in the present moment. They are memories and lessons learned. They existed in the past. They inform us of the future.

Sometimes the best thing to do is to lose that sense of self in order to be able to look inwards critically.  Putting aside the ego and simply seeing thoughts for what they are is extremely difficult. The ego jostles for attention at any possible chance, with thoughts of “I am this” or comparisons to other people, opinions on the world at large and a deep-seated fear of annihilation. When we put all these aside we are simply left with our own personal truth.

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Reblog: Courage

Reblogged from my blog on SageWoman’s channel at Witches & Pagans: http://www.witchesandpagans.com

As the darkness approaches, I find myself thinking more and more about courage. What is courage? Personally, I think courage is so subjective – there is no one definition that would suit everyone. Yet I shall give it a go in any case.

The dictionary defines courage as: the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery. I would posit that courage is the quality of mind/spirit that enables a person to face difficulties, etc in spite of fear. It is just not true that the brave know no fear – I believe that they simply get on with it. There is no such thing as a fearless person, unless that person has not the mental capacity for it, having suffered physical brain or emotional trauma.

What causes fear? For the most part, fear is the unknown. As humans, we crave constancy, security. We’re not especially fond of change, at least in great quantities. We fear what we cannot see – many are afraid of the dark. Is this an instinctual fear, based on what could attack and eat us from the shadows? I had an experience a couple of weeks ago, in my own backyard, where I went to offer some food at my altar – a large dark shadow that was not usually there made me stop in my tracks. A bear, my first thought was. Then my brain worked through the processes of logic – there are no bears in Britain. I’m not in Canada anymore. What animal would be big enough to create this? A stag? Would he attack me in this, the rutting season? No, he couldn’t get through the hedge with his rack at this time of year… After going through these thought processes (which probably took less than a second) I simply stepped forward to investigate, and found it to be a large branch from the beech tree that came down in the high winds. I smiled at the brain’s way of dealing with it and made my offering, honouring the darkness and shadows as well.

Growing up in Canada, in bear country, you are taught to be afraid of large, dark shapes at night and early morning. You stay away from them. That learned behaviour has stayed with me even though I have lived in the UK since 1998.

So, what is the great thing about learned behaviour? It can be unlearned. My fear of the dark, of the unknown, can be investigated, experienced fully. Now, of course it is healthy to have a certain instinctual fear of large shadows in the dark, just in case I find myself alone in the woods when I get back to Canada for a visit. I can’t expect my brain to make these logical leaps in time to deal with the situation of a real bear being there – my brain would rightfully tell me to leg it. However, dealing with a fear of the unknown can be unlearned.

In new situations, I don’t have to automatically feel apprehension. I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to react. I can breathe, and work with what is actually happening at the moment, rather than living in the past or fast-forwarding to the future. In the present moment, we cannot know fear – we can only fear outcomes. When we are hurt, when we are in pain or in danger, if we are thinking in the future, “when will this stop!” then we are not in the present moment – we have given over to the future. Facing the current moment of pain, of danger, requires us to be totally present. This very easy to say, not so easy to do. Still, it is worth the effort, I think.

While working on this concept, in the meantime one can learn to live with the fear, in the form of taking on the notion of courage and running with it. Face the darkness in spite of your fears – they may only be tree branches anyway. Fear is a very human emotion, one that has kept us alive for millennia.

For me, fear is a god. Fear can be crippling, fear can drown us in its depths; it can suffocate us until we know no other escape. As such, fear can kill. Yet, like most gods, only in submission to these raw flows of energy would we risk death. By working with the flows, riding the currents of fear, developing a relationship with it, we can better understand it as well as its place in our lives, and the rest of the world. In the meantime, may all your shadows only be deadwood. You’ll only find out by checking it out, at any rate…

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Darkness and Mystery

milton paradise lostThe evenings draw in closer, the darkness growing as we make our way towards the winter solstice.  It is a time for deep thought, reflection and understanding – thinking and understanding so deeply you are hardly doing it at all.  In the darkness our minds are much less distracted by visual stimulation.  We can explore the darkness both within and without, as well as the great mystery of the unknown.

In Zen Buddhism, along the Eightfold Path we learn about Right Mind.  At this time of year, I apply it when journeying ever closer towards the rebirth of the light. It is in the darkness that the mind is truly explored. It is in the darkness that the world outside is truly confronted.  It is in the darkness where we find the greatest mystery of all.

Right Mind requires an understanding of the self, in order to see that the self is really not all that important.  First we must learn about our reactions to the world – how we relate to it, what is automatic and what is intentional.  By studying our selves and studying our navels, we look deep within to see where we might be able to work on living in full awareness of our actions in our daily lives.  If we have an understanding that we instantly react to the person on the social networking site who criticises us, we can then work on that so that there isn’t attachment to it.  We learn that we don’t even have to react – that it is within our power as to how we behave.  When our co-worker in the office won’t help us even when we ask for it, we learn not to instantly react and let it ruin our day. We simply get on with the job at hand, perhaps asking for help elsewhere.

We are not owed anything. Learning this lesson can be of great value in our own spiritual awakening.  People do not have to act as we would wish them to. Not everyone has to agree with us. People will have different opinions.  We don’t have to comment, criticise or even give it second thought if we do not wish to.  Our emotions, our passions should be the spark of inspiration. They should not be the raging inferno that takes over.

By looking deep within to see how our passions and emotions play through our daily lives, we come to an understanding of them. We cannot ever develop a relationship with anything, be it person, tree, mountain or deity without first understanding them to a certain degree.  We often do not understand ourselves, to our detriment.  Why do we behave the way we do? How can we live more intentionally?

Through daily meditation we can come to a greater awareness of our selves.  Once we have attained that awareness, it is best to let it go.

You may ask – why spend all that time learning about our selves, only to let it go?

If we are constantly looking inwards, we will neglect to look outwards.  Druidry and much of modern day Paganism are at the risk of becoming too self-involved, too inwardly focused.  Five words remind me of this on a daily basis. It’s not all about you.

We can become so self-absorbed in looking at our navels that the world passes us by.  There is so much out there that we need to become aware of, just as previously there was so much inside that we needed to be aware of.  Once we have achieved a level of competency in knowing ourselves, the best thing we could do is to lose that sense of self in order to understand the bigger picture.

This dropping of the ego, this letting go is not an annihilation of the self. It is not negation. It is immersion, integration – utterly being.  It shows us the boundaries between the worlds, between us and other humans, between us as the natural environment. It also shows us that these boundaries are simply illusion. We are all just energy.

We can then begin to explore the greatest mystery of all, within the nurturing darkness – that of not knowing.  After learning to understand our selves and the world, we lose understanding as well, realising that we really do not know very much at all.  In such a vast landscape, both inner and outer, how can we truly know anything at all?  Often in Zen this is referred to as Mu, or nothing.  In the not knowing we are open to everything, our minds not being closed off.  The great mystery of not knowing is where the true potential lies.  In not knowing, we are free.

Deep within the darkness, the journey continues.

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Reblog: November Skies

Here is a link to my latest blog for SageWoman at WitchesandPagans…

Nov skyThere’s just something about a November sky.

For many, November can be a month of hard coping, with the clocks changing, the nights drawing in, the colder air and wetter weather.  Yet we often miss the beauty of this month, lost in our own solipsism.  Looking around us, we see that there is so much more than our own worlds, than our own lives. As Bjork said, “nature is ancient and surprises us all”…

To read more, please go to http://witchesandpagans.com/SageWoman-Blogs/november-skies.html

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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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Reblog: The Ancestors from Moon Books’ blog

Here is my latest blog for the Moon Books’ main blog page. May the ancestors guide you well! x http://moon-books.net/blogs/moonbooks/ancestors/

Samhain is a time to think on the ancestors, as it is often said that at this time of the year, the veil between the worlds is thin.  Our ancestors can mean so much to us, and yet, how much do we acknowledge them in our lives?

If you stop to think about it, you are the result of hundreds of thousands of years of ancestors, their numbers legion.  You, right now, are the result of evolution.  Taking a moment to stop and think about this can have great impact upon our lives.  We may suddenly realise that we are not alone – that we have the songs of millions of ancestors running through our veins.  That we are part of a grander cycle of life, death and birth that makes the little dramas, worries and events in our lives pale by comparison. It also reminds us that we are connected to all living things – that if you go back far enough, we have the stuff of stars in the minerals of our blood, the water of the vast oceans in our bodies, the sunlight and storms of times gone by.  In this way, there is absolutely no way we could say that we are an entity alone on this planet, and yet so many of us feel to be disconnected from everything and everyone around us.

Why do we feel this disconnection?  Ancestor worship used to be common, and still is, among many societies around the globe.  While the word worship may prove to be difficult for some, perhaps simple acknowledgement of the ancestors would be more apt. We have the good, bad and the ugly in our heritage – we need not worship any of them. However, connecting with and knowing that they are there, with all their glory and all their faults allows us the time and space to truly see life for what it really is – a culmination of everything that has previously happened, and the potential that lies within the future, with this present moment the very real blessing that it is if we are awake enough to immerse ourselves within it.

So why have we lost this connection to our ancestors? I don’t really know – I can only speculate.  Our real, blood ancestors may have been replaced by myths from the dominant religion, or pushed aside to form the secular culture of today.  Patronymic and matronymic Names such as Svensson or Gudrunsdottir were pushed aside by governments and churches in order to identify people according to the fashion of the time.  Women were forced to give up their maiden names when they married, and whole lineages were lost in a patriarchal society.  Voices were muted, or forcibly silenced.

What we can do now is to piece together the fragments that remain, in order to connect with our ancestors.  For some this is easier than others – broken homes and families, orphans and adoptees face a very and ever increasing challenge in coming to know and understand the ancestors.  Through rising conflicts in various countries, researching your genealogy might reveal some truths best left hidden from your social peers.  There may not even be access to records available – so what is a person to do?  We must remember that it is not only the secular world we live in, but also a spiritual world, where our ancestors await us if we choose to meet with them.

And so we do, in an odd fashion, at this time of year without really knowing why.  Stories of ghosts and witches and the dead coming to life flit through the minds of children and adults alike, as they dress up in ghoulish costumes ready to tackle the dark streets with other like-minded adventurers.  I remember fondly my years of trick-or-treating with my brother and sister – roaming the streets full of children, very little adult presence, dressed up in scary or not so scary costumes, out past the normal time allowed and going onto neighbours’ properties, walking beneath the bared branches of the trees, the moon shining spookily through just like in all the pictures we’d been drawing in school, a cat running across our path.  Ghosts lurked behind every bush and darkened window, witches flew on brooms past the rounded face of the moon, skeletons danced in the graveyards.  These images of the dead, the scary, the ancestors were still so evocative and ignited the imagination of every child wandering and testing the dark streets of both their neighbourhood and their soul.

We have a very real fear of death in our society.  We do not talk about it. We go to visit dying relatives in the hospital and tell them that they will be okay.  When they do die, we send the bodies off for preparation by someone most likely not a family member – if we are lucky, the family knows the undertaker through their previous work.  On this night, the night of Samhain, Hallowe’en, we the masses are allowed to talk of death, or if not talk about it, act it out in a sugar induced high as children, or an alcohol induced platitude in our adulthood.

Taking a step back from all this and really acknowledging the season for what it is, for what it means to relate to our ancestors, is what Samhain is really about for me.  I acknowledge not only my human ancestors, but all those who have gone before, whether they be cat or tree, mountain or sea.  The tides of time and life and constantly changing, and death is always around us, as is life.  However, at this time of year, where here in the UK the leaves are changing colour and falling to the ground, the ground foliage dying back and bare earth being exposed for the first time in many months, the smell of death and decay all around – it is easier and much more obvious to honour the cycle of death.  Rebirth will happen when the sun begins to warm up the earth, when the days begin to become longer. Right now, the darkness awaits, and in that darkness, the stillness of death. Taking a moment to be still ourselves, to experience a little death on this most hallowed night, is so utterly freeing and grounding at the same time.

We are so often not human beings, but human doings. To stop, to cease doing things, to stop being active is to become old, or worse, dead.  Yet we are not annihilated when we cease to run around on the hamster wheel – instead we are immersed in the wonder of life and death, of creation and destruction.  That immersion is, for me as a Druid, what it is all about.  Dropping that sense of self to be free within the world is all important.  Knowing who you are first is essential – for when you know who you are, you can then let it go into the dark void of potential, into the cauldron of unknowing.

So this Samhain, take a moment to stop and connect with the ancestors.  Realise that the threads are always with you, shimmering along ethereal lines of connectivity in a grander tapestry of life.  Some may have faded with time, some may need mending, but we have the magic lying within our very souls to do this.  Pick up the veil that lies between the worlds, and see the shimmering lives of the ancestors on the other side – and know that there is no other side in truth.  We are all here together, but our minds create the gauzy veil between the worlds.  Lift that veil.  Look death in the eye.  Smile, and death will smile back at you.  Rejoice in the impermanence of all things, and know that one day you too will be an ancestor, your threads still connecting you to all that is within the web of existence. Dance in the present moment, with the ancestors of past the future dancing alongside you.

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Reblog from SageWoman: Samhain and the Ancestors

samhain

digital artwork by Pumpkin Photography, available on devianart

Reblog from my post over at SageWoman’s blog channel – Samhain blessings to you all!

What with the rage of the storm St Jude passing over our area on Monday morning, we were without power for a couple of days (as well as being without land line phones -mobile masts were also out).  At this time of year, when the clocks have gone back and the nights are drawing in, the change can be quite dramatic, especially when you are living without power.

The weather had turned cold in the evenings, but luckily we have a fireplace, so the evenings were spent gathered around the hearth, with the darkness all around just outside the circle of candle and firelight, and the wind howling outside. Pretty much confined to one room in the light and warmth, we took the time to simply be – to sit together and watch the flames dancing in the darkness.

Preparations had to be made before the light began to fail.  Food was prepared in the daylight, and the candles and fire readied for when darkness fell.  There’s nothing worse than being caught out in pitch blackness, looking for a match or a torch and stumbling in the darkness.  Time was very much in the forefront of my mind – I had to make sure things were ready.  The days and nights seemed to stretch in length, without the distraction of any media to divert our attention away from the inky blackness outside our windows.

Outside, when it was safe enough to go out, we looked up and saw even more stars than we can usually see.  Living as we do in a rural area near the coast of the North Sea, we have a pretty amazing night sky as it is, without very much light pollution. These last few nights were something really special. We also noticed just how many planes were in the sky as well – an alarming number, all things considered.

At this time of year, the ancestors are often in my thoughts – in Druidry, we have the ancestors of blood, of place and of tradition to work with.  I felt even more connected to the ancestors of the past, without any electricity, filling my days with manual work and enjoying relaxing by the fire in the evenings.  My blood ancestors hummed in my veins as I watched the flames in the fireplace, seeing lines stretching off into the darkness of the past and stretching to include hundreds, thousands of people who have gone before.  The ancestors of place were all around me, and the very real notion that the living are walking, working, living and loving on the bodies on the dead was very real to me.  The bodies of all flora and fauna who have gone before provided this very land upon which we live, and at this time of year when it appears that everything is slowly dying to the coming winter, it really hit home.  Every morning I was also reminded of the life amidst the world of the dead, as the stags were calling to their does, and the rutting season beginning here upon the heathland.  The ancestors of tradition opened up my mind to all that was occurring around me, allowing me to see and experience the mysteries firsthand. I wondered what the future ancestors would experience from our legacy.

When our power did finally come back on, in the early hours of the morning a few days later, I physically felt it.  Fast asleep, I awoke in the darkness that was not quite so dark, wondering why I had just sat up in bed. I felt a buzzing in my body, as if everything around me was humming. Looking out the window, I saw that our neighbours across the street had their outside light come on, and that the darkness was not so thick, both inside and out.  I could feel the electricity come back on.  The heating then came on, and I listened to the sounds of the furnace firing up, and the house creaking under the sudden change in temperature. I was a bit saddened by the return of electricity – it meant that deadlines were now due, that work awaited me when all I wanted to do was retreat into hibernation mode.  It meant that we would have to make a special effort not to sink back into the luxury that is electricity, and to not take it for granted. (I was, however, very much looking forward to a hot bath in the morning).

I welcome the darkness, with the rest after a long and busy summer that it brings.  I look forward to the shortening days until the winter solstice, when the evenings stretch into hours of sacred time and sacred space. I will fill these hours with meditation, with ritual, with remembrance, instead of ignoring the darkness with the buzzing of electricity and the drone of the media.  I will remember our days spent closer to the ancestors, and will welcome the connection to them in the growing darkness.

http://www.witchesandpagans.com/SageWoman-Blogs/samhain-and-the-ancestors.html

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Samhain Musings…

Samhain, the time when the veils between the worlds are thin… I’ve been wondering about this term of phrase lately.  Why, on certain dates of the year, should the veil be thinner than at other times? Is there even such a thing as a veil between the worlds?

More and more I lean towards the negative – that there is indeed no veil, that the dead and the living walk side by side.  That there is no Otherworld, that the Otherworld and this world are all the same – it’s only our perception of it that makes it “other”.  We like to separate things, we human beings, to classify and put them in a place where we can understand them from a stand-offish perspective.  I would posit that, looking at nature, nothing is that simple, or can be tied so neatly to an idea.

Taking inspiration from the natural world around us, we see the living and the dead working together all of the time, whether it is autumn, winter, spring or summer.  Things are dying around us constantly – there is no specific season for it. Animals die, plants die, cells die – it does not wait for autumn. I admit, in the Fall we see the foliage around us withdrawing into itself, the leaves falling, the grasses returning to their roots, energy moving in different directions, from out into the sunlight to deep within the earth. This is not a death, however it may appear – simply a reversal of direction.

Like the double helix, energy is always moving, and never in one direction only. When everything appears to be dying here in the Northern Hemisphere, it is beginning to come to life in the Southern Hemisphere. The tides and times of life follow no one set of rules.

I may die in the autumn, I may die in the spring. Whenever I do die, my body will in turn nourish the soil, plants, fungi, animals and legion of other living beings on this planet in that great symbiosis of simply being. It does not rely on a season.  I do not cease to be, either. I simply cease to be in some form or other – my body will take on a new form. My soul – I believe that too will take on a new form, if nature has taught me anything.

In our agricultural year and society here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are at the end of our harvest season, and in that time we are able to take a break as the final crops have come in.  But we are still making our preparations for winter. Is there really a time to rest, to relax, before the snows come?  For some animals this is the busiest season, the squirrels squirreling away their stores, for example.  I’m sure our ancestors would have been busy all throughout the year, just trying to stay alive.

I’ve often thought of autumn as a time of rest, of rejuvenation.  I see now that perhaps “rest” wasn’t quite right.  Autumn is more a time of reflection, of going through what we have learned through the year, and through all the years of our lives.  It is a time to not stop, per se, but to take stock.

Along the way, our ancestors, who are with us always, can help us, guide us throughout our lives.  Having a special time of year set aside to acknowledge them is a good thing, but I would posit that we should honour where we have come from, our stories and our heritage, all that brought us to this point in time each and every day.  It is not a one-off thing. Like the holiday of Thanksgiving, I really enjoy and appreciate the sentiment, but carry that same sentiment with me throughout the year.

All that being said, this IS my favourite time of the year. I love the colours, the smells, the feeling in the air of the approaching winter, the stories of summer lingering upon our lips in reflection and contemplation.

Side by side with the ancestors, I honour the season, the tides and times of life, death, and rebirth.