Epiphanies

I've been grateful for any moments of epiphany I've had, we all need them, things that have offered clarity, a change of perception or a key that's opened another door. They come in many forms and from diffuse sources. One that often comes to mind when I'm in the woods, predictably maybe, is reading Robert Holdstock's Mythago Wood. I was thinking whilst amongst the crowded stands of shadowy conifers, with their pockets of veteran deciduous trees appearing like magical groves, how profoundly Mythago Wood altered the way I perceived, received and related to landscape. I know it's fiction, don't underestimate the magic in the arts though. I've found there's often elements of genuine truth to be found in stories and lyrics, truths are just truths. Musing I wondered how best describe the gift the book had given me, and concluded that I couldn't adequately put into words how Mythago changed my perceptions, just that it did. Through it I managed a deeper richer connection to nature, the past, and an  understanding of how they're connected, it shone a beneficial light on my spiritual path too. Not that I base my spirituality on a book, though millions do, more that Mythago Wood was a lightning rod, it acted as a key to change, and that change was illuminating. I never really leave the woods, I understand that  now.

There's only one way

The light through the stands was lovely this morning. Setting off on today’s walk my mind was on a blog I'd read at breakfast by a local pagan type, in particular something the author had written about insecurities around whether they were a good or bad pagan. That resonated with me, though for me the anxiety manifests more as am I 'doing' this right? I'm confident in what my aims are, just not always in how I'm doing pursuing them. My rituals, as they are, can be quite mutable, often ad hoc, and always organic in nature (well nearly always, I do sometimes write things down). I like them, and I feel they work for me. Although still I wonder if I shouldn't follow a more established methodology, more ordered ritual. I enjoy organized ceremonies and open rituals, whether with a large group at Stonehenge, Glastonbury and Avebury, or with local groves (of which there are two, both lovely groups of people).  Most of the time though life gets in the way, and I end up following the solitary path. Of course there's no definitive pagan way, more a myriad of paths observing the traditional eight fold year, which happen to coalesce around a broad generally accepted framework. There's no doctrine, so I can't be doing it wrong really. Anyway, as the Rede says 'an you harm none, do as you will'. I don't know. Maybe writing stuff down would help, I've wanted to create my own quarter calls for a woodland setting for a while. I know it's confidence thing, and really the Levellers had it right with 'There's only one way of life, and that's your own'. Nice out today.

Antler project pt1

I went back out to Holmhill today and collected the antler rack I found earlier in the week. I know I said I wasn't sure about removing it from the forest, and that's still the case. The antlers will be returned to the forest, but I have a plan for them. Strapped my pack the antlers again moved through the forest, weirdly at one point a deer approached me (or rather the antlers) and was noticeably surprised when I emerged from the undergrowth. Walking back on Sunday a picture began to form in my mind of what the antlers were meant for, pondering on it today, I'm sure it's right. 

Summer Solstice

Is the wheel turning faster these days, or is it just me? It's the Summer Solstice already!  I think I've just not been paying attention, too busy, maybe. Stopping and taking time to really look, of course it's solstice, nature's shouting it, her beauty and splendour are out abundance. A time to celebrate. Though the festival itself is a strange one, as well as celebrating natures wonders, the growing evidence of the Sun and Earth's union, we also acknowledge that the Sun has reached his zenith, his power will begin to wane and from tomorrow the days will start to shorten and our journey into darkness begins. That's no bad thing, mind, it's all part of the cycle, yeah, a cold, wet, grim part of the cycle, granted, but everything has a time and a place. And that and more are still to come. For now I'm enjoying the warmth of the sun, the smells, sounds and colours of nature revelry, and really home you are too. Solstice blessing y'all.

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.

Beltane

It must be 28 or 29 years since I first made my way to Glastonbury Tor to celebrate Beltane, since when it's become a regular pilgrimage; other than two years I missed, one when I was unwell and the other foot and mouth, when the majority of the country was off limits. You never know what the weather Gods have in store for you at Beltane, I think over the years we've stood up on the Tor in most weather conditions, some good, and some not so. This morning was one of the former, in fact it was one of the best, bloody marvellous, it was. As I climbed the Tor a full moon still hung in the clear sky, a good omen I thought. About a 150 people gathered on the Tor, all sorts of people, from all over the place, a mixed of languages and accents, all here to welcome in the sun. Rollo, arch-druid of the Glastonbury Order was here to celebrate 30 years of the order, and their first Beltane on the Tor. Rollo's ceremonies were the first druid gatherings we attended, they always had a certain character and never failed to raise a smile, so I have happy to be here to celebrate with them. As is the way, there was an explanation of the day, some um's and er's, ceremony, communal chanting, some more um's and er's (druids love a bit of confusion), there was a song, a call and response poem, a hand fasting and more than anything, smiles. Three cheers to Beltane and the sun broke cover, to the sound of whooping, horns, drums, and this morning a Scottish piper, magical, it was a most splendid sunrise. As the sun rose higher various Morris danced before the sun, while the Green Man pointed the way forward. Fantastic. Beltane Blessings y'all, may the seeds you sow find fertile ground.

Imbolc

The wheel turns and now with Imbolc upon us the promise of new life is manifest in the shoots of spring just poking their heads through last autumns fall. This is just the beginning. It wont be long before these Ramson shoots cover the woodland floor, and then fill the stands with their garlic scent. This is a time of preparation and readying. A time spiritually and emotionally to clear the decks of those unwanted and unhelpful things in our life; the negative attitudes, the doubts and self constructed barriers to fulfilling our dreams, or at least striving for them.  A time to clear the home of clutter, easier said than done for a hoarder like myself, who as is the way of hoarders, really believes that I'll find a use for the draws, boxes and jars of things I know I should have thrown away. Tidy house, tidy mind, yeah right. And in our garden and/or allotment, a time for clearing the ground ready to receive the seeds of future harvests. It's a lovely time of year, a time of unbound potential and possibility. A blessed Imbolc to y'all, enjoy.

Lughnasadh

The wheel appears to turn at lightening speed these days, the seasons rushing past, it's quite alarming really, and now Lughnasadh is with us, already! It's astounding, it only seems like yesterday we stood on the cusp of spring. Now is the time of first harvest, the grain harvest, when we begin to gather in the fruits of our labours, as our plans sown as seeds in spring start to come to fruition (if we're lucky). Some of my plans have come to fruition, others are yet to bear fruit, while others came to nought. This has been a good year on the land, at the allotment the crops keep coming, tomatoes, potatoes, shallots, beans, greens, peppers, fruits and of course courgettes, so many courgettes.  Out in nature the first blackberries are out, apples are bowing their boughs, the nuts are swelling, mushrooms are poking through, and across the countryside the fields of grain stand golden. Fingers crossed, our harvest bounties continue. Lughnasadh blessings y'all.

Summer Solstice sunrise at Knowlton

I'd pondered where to spend the Summer Solstice sunrise and was glad that I'd decided on Knowlton Henge, a Neolithic Henge, part of a wider ritual complex embodying 5000 years of ritual activity, including the a ruinous post Medieval church. Even at 0430 as the sky began to colour, heralding the rising Sun, a crescent moon hanging magically above the nearby Great Barrow, it was warm enough to comfortably wear a t-shirt, amazing. Quite a few people had gathered to watch the sunrise, several of whom I knew, old freinds like Mick, who I've known for over 30 years and his girl friend Ang, Nick who I've known since the early 90's and member of the Dorset Grove who I'd not seen in a while; it's always nice to catch up with good people, it's something I need to do more and there's no excuse not too, only the barriers my mind creates. The Sun rose majestically, beautifully through the morning clouds. I say to myself every time I watch the sun rise 'I must do this more often', though still only manage it on the 8 days ascribed as important by my path. I left the henge with my spirits lifted and a smile on my face, though still with a corner of melancholia in my heart at how much I've changed. I hope the seeds of dreams and plans you planted in spring are blooming nicely. Solstice blessings y'all. 

Beltane

After a 2 hour drive in the rain, I sat in my car at the bottom of Glastonbury Tor. The rain was still running down the windscreen, it was 0450, and 50 minutes to sunrise. I first came to Glastonbury for Beltane sunrise in 1990 and have been coming every year since (except for the year foot and mouth closed the tor, and another year due to illness). It's become a tradition I hold dear. It's an occasion I usually end up attending alone, I have taken people before, and ask every year, though I think people are put off by the time and the prospect of an early morning climb, not to mention the frequent inclemency. The rain still ran down the windscreen as the clock struck 0500 and it was time to start making my way up the Tor. Miraculously as I left the car, the rain abated; over the years I've found it can often be the way. I like to see it as a sign. The rain may have faded, though the tor was still shrouded in damp mist. As I climbed, part of a long line of pilgrims snaking their way upwards, the ghostly form of the tower emerged. I got closer and could now smell incense wafting on the air, and hear drumming.  Inside the tower folk were crammed, noisily welcoming in the morning, the Green Man and the May Queen. It was getting brighter and the tor filled with more celebrants. Periodically the mist would clear to reveal the patchwork of fields and drains which make up the levels, then just as quickly as they appeared they were gone, and we were returned to standing on an island in a misty sea. Most people had gathered to the north of the tower, small groups doing their thing, others just watching the horizon to the east. The combined morris of Cam Valley and Mendip were preparing to do their thing; I've seen them perform every year and in every weather condition...they are hardcore! About the same time as their accordion breathed life into their dance, a group of women began to sing Deep into the Earth. ''Deep into the earth I go, deep into the earth I know, deep into the earth I go, deep into the earth I know, hold my hand sister hold my hand, hold my hand sister hold my hand,  hold my hand brother hold my hand, hold my hand brother hold my hand'', over and over. They began to form a circle and it soon incorporated more and more smiling people. A hand reached out for mine and I joined the now slowly moving line of people as they wove a labyrinth path around the hill top, still singing. I've been coming to these type of things for nearly 30 years, and still I find it hard to let go, I'm too inhibited, though today  my inhibitions were brought down, first meekly, then with more vigour I joined in the song. As the sky brightened and the clouds began to part, the tor was alive with music and activity, it was beautiful and I remembered (as I always do) why I drive through the night to an often windy hilltop for May morn.  The assembled cheered. Once freed there was no holding back the spring sun, who spread his light across our goddess the land, illuminating all.  One of Rollo's druids blew a horn, people whooped and cheered, smiling they stood transfixed on the sight before them.  The green's face says it all. What a wonderful morning. Beltane blessing to y'all, may the seeds of your dreams and desires fall on fertile ground.

Winter Solstice 2016

I hope the birth of the new Sun warms the soil ready for the seeds of your future dreams.

Samhain

Samhain blessings. I hope last harvest finds both your physical and metaphorical barns stuffed full with all the things you desired from the seeds sown earlier in the year. Flags, Flax, Fodder and Frigg y'all

Glastonbury Wild Hunt 2016

A few photos from Glastonbury's Wild Hunt. A great day with groovy people, in a vibrant town that knows how put on an event. It all appears so natural. Avalon really is a magical place.

Knowlton Yew

One of the Yews at Knowlton Henge.

Lughnasadh

A bumper wheat and barley harvest's here, 

                 and with it fresh bread and beer.                  

And still there are two harvests yet to come, 

before the growing year is done.

Lughnasadh blessings y'all.

Solstice sunrise

I'd risen long before dawn, in order to drive through the night the 60 or so miles to Pilsdon on the Dorset Devon border to catch the solstice sunrise. It was an eventful drive, 2 deer, a fox and a badger all caused me to take evasive action, still, makes a difference from having to take evasive action on account of numerous nut-bars in cars. I'd not visited Pilsdon for over 20 years and was looking forward to the visit, even if I wasn't certain there'd be much of a sunrise to see.  Pilsdon is the one of the highest, if not the highest, hill in Dorset and site of an Iron Age hillfort. That said, a road winds past the fort quite near to the summit and on arrival it didn't take long to reach the ramparts of the hillfort. What a view, man!  And to boot, the sun did indeed rise and it was stunning. Well worth the trip.

Below, the brief description I posted on friend-face.

Looking north-east this morning from the lofty heights of Pilsdon Pen hillfort, across the beautifully undulous west Dorset landscape, as the summer Solstice Sun edged deftly above the distant horizon accompanied by the sweet song of the dawn chorus.

Happy Solstice y'all

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.

Dorset Grove Alban Eilir ritual

Life can overtake you sometimes and so I'd not made it to a Dorset Grove ritual for some time, although on arrival it felt like I'd never been away.  Even with winters cold fingers still clinging to the land (and cling they certainly did), the warmth of the circle was tangible as was the love of those forming it. If you've ever been interested in how Pagans or Druids celebrate the turning of the seasons and observe their special days, then you could do a lot worse than to come and experience (and enjoy) one of the Dorset Groves open rituals, which happen 8 times a year around the winter and summer Solstices, the spring and autumn Equinoxes, Imbolc, Beltaine, Lughnasa and Samhain. The wheel of the year, marked by the 4 quarter days and 4 fire festivals. Their rituals are some of the best I've attended (and I've been attending these type of things since 1989), the rituals include druidic practice, shamanism, meditation, healing, drama, that's to name but a few aspects. All delivered inclusively, in a rich mix of reverence, respect, love and humour, which perfectly illustrates the nature of modern paganism. And if you're yet sold, there's also cake!

Thank you Dorset Grove, and a happy Alban Eilir to y'all.

Imbolc

Imbolc

The wheel of the year is invisibly turning.

Deep in the Earth there stirs a yearning.
And though Winter still holds us in its sway.

We know that warmer days are on their way.

Our youthful Sun now warms the land.

And times of change are close at hand.
'In the belly' is Imbolcs' Celtic meaning.
And below the surface lives just beginning.
Roots and seeds go searching forth.

Eager to embrace the soils growing warmth.

Soon the white Blackthorn blossom will show.

Throughout our roams new life will grow.
And, in the gardens of our mind.

Tilled soil from dreams and plans we'll find.

For new beginnings we'll raise a cheer.

The promise of spring is nearly here.

Imbolc blessings y'all.