Beltane open ritual

Beltane approaches and tonight I joined with others in an open Beltane ritual out in the New Forest hosted by the Clan of the Pheryllt. I've attended Pheryllt rituals, and the occasional moot, for some years now, though recently one thing and another had meant that I'd missed more than one or two. I've missed these gatherings. It was lovely to be back in the circle with so many familiar faces, as well as several new, it was as if no time has passed at all. Solitary practice is all well and good, and something I'm used to after years of shying away from groups having met some right chumps. The Clan of the Pheryllt and the people who congregate at their open rituals couldn't be more different though, good folk, friendly and open. The clans rituals are a joy, there was appropriate solemnity, though plenty of humour, a phallic Maypole, dancing, singing, and bardic offerings by way of music and poetry too. A lovely evening, a lovely ritual, with lovely people, in a lovely setting...lovely.

Awen

There are a few quiet spots deep in the woods and away from the well used tracks which traditionally I've used as spots to chill, think or meditate. Places far enough removed from the noises of our modern human world for you to really hear the forest, well, apart from the occasional invasive plane flying overhead. As I've mentioned, although not formally trained (something I'm contemplating changing) I follow a Druidic spiritual path, and have done for over 2 decades. In recent years as our society has continued to take the wrong path, spiralling into a hate filled space for intolerance, racists, bigots and extremists, I've become mired in insecurities and fear, which as Yoda rightly predicted led me to anger, and I've increasingly sought rebalance and solace in my spiritual leanings. I've delved deeper, meditated more, and sought a path through the madness of now. To be honest I've stumbled many times (and continue to stumble), consumed with  anxiety and stalked by the black dog unleashed by insecurity and social marginalization born of government policy and media stigmatization.  Just to sit in these isolated natural places is a refreshing tonic, a blessed relief. In Druidism 'Awen' is the term given to the flow of inspiration, wherever than may originate from, it's used as a chant similarly to the eastern 'Om' in Druid ceremonies, or when meditating. Used to doing it during ritual, for many years I shied away from using it when meditating out alone, cowed by perceived social norms. Not so much now days.  Sat today in the shade of a young tree, by the side of a babbling brook, I slowly chanted the Awen, stretching the three syllables into one extended sound, I did three sets of three.  The sound fills your head and senses, resonating through you, and when you stop, man, it's magical, it's as if you've cleared all the clutter that stifles connection, and you hear the forest and all its life with new clarity. The forest is turned up to 11. You're really connected as we should be, as you're meant to be. Wonderful stuff, and so simple to achieve, a connection which only grows more profound the more you practice. You can feel the weights of modern life ebbing away, a taste of freedom in our increasingly claustrophobic world.

Up on the Tor

As I drove through Glastonbury on my way to the base of the Tor this morning, I could see groups of people heading off to make the same climb I was about to. Traditionally I've parked at the base of the eastern side of the tor and scrambled up the steep side rather than take the longer, if less severe, path up the spine, today was to be no different. The hillside was damp and viscus, as well as being bloody steep, I passed the one remaining side of the tree that had split in half over 25 years ago, with the other falling year before last and began my scramble up the daunting slope.  I was out of breath as a reached the summit and heard the familiar voice of Rollo, Archdruid of the Glastonbury order of Druids who was to lead this mornings Beltaine ceremony. Rollo led the first Druid ceremonies I attended, and although not always thorough, and his rituals can be loose with bits often omitted, they are always done with honestly and with love.  Today the ritual was particularly loose, but with good reason, last year Donna (Rollos long time partner and an Archdruidess) died and this morning he was to spread some of her ashes. Rollo was clearly anxious. I first met Donna in the early 90's and regularly saw her at ceremonies, she was a lovely friendly person and I was saddened to hear of her passing. You'd be sure to see her atop Glastonbury Tor at Beltaine, so this mornings ceremony was particularly poignant.  

Dreow Archdruid of Avalon arrived to lend a hand, and after some initial banter between Rollo and Dreow, Dreow called for peace in the quarters, Rollo read some words, the acting Archdruidess of the order recited a poem Donna liked and her ashes were spread. It was a nice ceremony, moving, Rollo was clearly moved. Three cheers were given for Beltaine, and we waited for the guest of honour, the Sun. I know there'd been some antagonism between elements of Glastonbury Druidry in the past over titles and roles. I wasn't party to the details, other than what I'd heard bandied about, the gossip and what was written in the media, social and printed. But Dreows' support this morning was a nice gesture. Yeah, there was something there, but both men were true Druids, navigating and negotiating the situation with honour, using language and words with great skill. It was masterful druidry.  

Whilst the ceremony went on other groups and individual carried out their own observances, a group of women softy sang, three druids stood in meditation, a woman chanted, drummers drummed and guitarists strummed, dogs barked, incense wafted through the crowd and the Tor was alive with the sights, sounds and smells of interesting folk, many dressed flamboyantly for the occasion. A top morning, in good company and then the sun rose to the cheers of the assembled. 

With the ceremony over and the sun risen it was time for the Morris. The Cam Valley Morris have been performing on Glastonbury Tor at Beltaine since before I can remember, and I've been attending for 26 years! There was another Morris with them this morning whose name, regrettably,  I didn't catch. Both Morris put on a Stirling traditional performance only lightly clothed in what was the chilling cold, dancing the handed steps in patterns danced for centuries, waving their hankies and cracking their sticks. They danced for some time, in several formations, all to a fiddle and accordion. Beautiful, man. It's great to see traditional crafts practiced and brought to the public as they'd have been done more widely in the past, before we neglected and forgot our traditions. You'll have folk tell you ''it's Europes' fault or immigrants'', bollocks, we'd let our traditions fade and die long before Europe, and we've always had immigration. No, we blame others born out of our own guilt, it would be better if stopped and we learnt the old ways, what is lost could be found.  

And with Morris came the man of the moment, the green man.  What a great morning, a lovely ceremony, a beautiful sunrise and great entertainment. You couldn't wish for more. I wandered back down the hillside, past the egg stone and its accompanying brightly festooned Hawthorn trees, a big smile on my face. I enjoyed a Beltaine blessing, for sure.

Beltaine Sunrise

I look forward to seeing Beltaine morning in up on Glastonbury Tor, when the conditions are right the views out over the low mist filled Somerset levels are fantastic, and this morning was one of those mornings. So clear were the skies eastwards that they'd begun to lighten noticeably by 0430 and you could see out across he flat levels landscape for a considerable distance.  Above, the sky grew increasingly blue, as at the horizon a soft yellow orange hue took hold, and as it did the clouds, which hung fragmented to the west, were captured and coloured by the approaching sun, a mix of salmon pink and purple grey hues. There appeared a period when the sky stopped changing, as if fixed in anticipation of an action, and then a feint glow, followed by a shining golden thread...the sun was rising. I'm always struck by the speed at which the sun appears to rise. ''Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning'', that's what they say. We'll have to wait and see. The colour soon drained from the clouds as the sun rose proper and the day began in earnest. I know though, that as Bill Withers said, ''it's going to be a lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, love-ly day. Beltaine blessings y'all, may your seeds find fertile ground.

Solstice ritual

The wheel has turned and Solstice approaches, it's time for ritual celebration. Tonight I joined other pagan types of differing paths in the forest for one of the Clan of the Pheryllt's seasonal open rituals. I saw many a familiar face and new ones to boot; I think I've been attending Pheryllt rituals for nearly 4 years now, they're a great group, very friendly and welcoming. As is usual with the  Clan of the Pheryllt's open rituals it was an friendly affair, the ritual was an OBOD* one and so Druidic in nature; I liked that as it was through such rituals I came to my spiritual path and feel very comfortable with them.  As I said, the participants are a nice bunch and the rituals always have a family feel to them, undertaken with genuine reverence for our natural world and all who dwell therein, with love and often with a fair portion of humour. Tonight there were a couple of bardic offerings too: a lady with a flute/whistle type thing which had a First Nation sound to it played a beautiful tune, followed by Spanish lady singing a captivating song she had written. I wish I had the confidence to participate I see in others. Another lovely ritual leaving you feeling good. Afterwards we adjourned to the Forest Inn in Brockenhurst for the moot portion of the evening, I wasn't going to go what with up early tomorrow, though was talked in to swift one, planning to go before 2200, it was 2300 before I left, still that's by far the earliest I've got away from a Brockenhurst moot. All in all it was a lovely ritual and moot, an evening well spent; a big thank you to the Clan of the Pheryllt.

* Order of Bards Ovates and Druids.