The Seal Skin and the Sea Within

March 21, 2024 at 3:22 pm (Uncategorized)
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It is always interesting to me how language shapes our understanding of reality. It fascinates me that in some languages there are words that cannot directly translate into English. This suggests that others can see or perceive something in life and in our world, that we just don’t have the words for, and therefore, it isn’t a reality for us. It’s a mind-blowing thought and illustrates that  language can not only be a key to opening our understanding of the world, it can also be a limitation.

It is also fun when we discover words from other languages that do have a direct translation but actually help us to deepen our understanding of that word. To give an example, I recently watched a wonderful documentary called InnSaei: The Power in Intuition by Icelandic film maker Hrund Gunnsteinsdottir. Innsaei is an Icelandic word for intuition but Hrund points out in her movie that the word has several meanings:

  1. The Sea Within
  2. To See Within
  3. To See From The Inside Out

Hrund describes these meanings in a rather beautiful way,

The sea within is the borderless nature of our inner world. It is constantly moving; it goes beyond words; it is a world of vision, feelings and imagination. The sea within cannot be put into boxes because then it ceases to flow.
To see within is to know yourself; to know yourself well enough to be able to put yourself into other people’s shoes and to bring out the best in you.
And finally, InnSaei means to see from the inside out. To see from the inside out is to have a strong inner compass so you can navigate your way in our ever-changing world.

I feel you could probably take each one of these three phrases and use them as journal prompts to explore the nuances of each.

I find myself drawn to ‘The Sea Within’; it is a phrase that calls to me. It is very easy to perceive our inner life as an ocean, one that has unknowable depths, the compelling pull of tides, the ebb and flow of connection and disconnection. It can be an alarming place with unexpected eddies that threaten to pull us under, leading us to yearn for the shallows that offer respite and safety.  I have often dreamt of the sea and until recently have always lived by it.

About a year or so ago, I had one of those dreams that seem to yell at you, those dreams when you know with an undeniable certainty that the ‘sea within’ is communicating something vital to your well-being. I was in the ocean, desperately trying to rescue a dying seal from circling sharks. I wanted to help the seal into the shallows, so that it could die in peace, without being predated. I knew the sharks were only being true to their nature and were hungry, but I couldn’t bear the thought of this beautiful seal being ripped apart. Like Popeye, I was bopping leaping sharks on the nose, trying to deter them from coming to shore where the seal lay exhausted. Upon waking, I knew that the Seal represented a part of me, a vital part that was in danger of being no more, and that my inner world was letting me know that this had to be addressed.

Myths and Folk Tales about Seal people, or Selkies as they are known here in Scotland, are many. Both Clarissa Pinkola Estes and Sharon Blackie have written wonderfully about these tales, getting inside the mythic and psychological truths that these stories gift us with.

My favourite is the Seal Wife, the tale of a Selkie who comes to shore, slipping off her seal skin and dancing on the sands. She is seen by a human man who falls desperately in love with her and steals her seal skin, hiding it away so that he will never lose her to the sea again. He plans to keep her as his wife on land forever and she bears him two children but painfully missing her ocean home and her seal skin – her true, authentic being – she becomes further and further outside herself. Gradually, with the memory of her true home haunting her, she begins to decline, her skin growing dry and her being listless, until one day she rediscovers her hidden seal skin, tucked away in the eves and stepping into that magical skin, slips joyfully back into the ocean, only occasionally being seen as she swims close to shore to visit her children.

The seal skin is for all of us our true, authentic self; what that true self is only we can know. So many of us have our seal skins stolen, sometimes by our culture or our work, sometimes by our families or our partners, even by all of these. We have to keep checking in with that agile, soulful creature who so often symbolises our deepest passions and loves, our creativity and our life meaning and purpose. If we have our seal skins stolen, or if we give them away, we too can become dry and without joy, filled with a yearning for our true home and those that understand us.

In my dream, my own inner seal was in a pitiful state. Seals can spend long periods in the deep ocean but also need the shore to rest and recuperate. Difficult life circumstances over years can certainly make life feel like an unending deep dive in an unforgivingly dangerous sea. We all need rest and peace and life-giving oxygen. Since my dream, I have come to realise just how much I have neglected my creativity, and also my need to ponder and dream over recent years.

I have been watching some gorgeous videos by Michael Boyd. Michael takes some magical footage of Harbour Seals (do check him out on Instagram @michaelboyyd). I learned though his films that Harbour Seals, when they want a quick snooze, will lodge themselves between two rocks on the seabed, or wrap themselves in the strands of a kelp forest and float as they sleep. They need air and water and land too, and without these they could not survive.

Since my Seal dream, I have been thinking about that balance we all need to feel truly ourselves; about honoring all the elements that keep us well, truly alive and vibrantly connected to our life. I have also been thinking about the price we pay for bending ourselves out of our natural shape to fit in and be loved or accepted. The impact such self-denying  behaviour has on every level of our being can be devastating. In a world that demands so much of all of us, in lives where we are constantly pressured to let go of the things that truly matter in order to conform (or merely just to survive), remember to check in with your seal skin regularly. What condition is it in? Is it sleek and silky, or dry and cracked? Let your inner seal dive deep in that mysterious ‘sea within’, bringing back beautiful treasures that feed your soul and give you the courage to be true to yourself. Let it rest on dry land too, in sunny, sheltered coves – we were not made for everlasting storms.

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Of Meaning and Mystery

January 31, 2024 at 12:31 pm (Uncategorized)

An ancient crone of the land, particularly of mountain, cliff, cave and windswept crag, Cailleach is also associated with lochs and bodies of water.

A giantess, her myths tell of her forming mountain ranges by dropping boulders from her apron. She is the wisdom of the ancient land, keen as beak and talon, the thrilling wildness of storms. The snow is her freshly washed plaid laid out across the land and she conjures the weather…

…Also know as the ancient Bone Mother, the frame upon which life takes shape, Cailleach is a crone of all knowing. Rugged and timeless, she inspires journeys into the remote and lonely places of our souls. Her wild laughter is a sacred song of dark wisdom and mother wit.
~ The Essential Book of Druidry, Maria Ede-Weaving

The above is a short excerpt from my wee book. I have written before on this Blog about the Cailleach as she is a Goddess close to my heart. Now I am living back in Scotland and am experiencing my first winter here in a while, I have felt her presence strongly. She is a Goddess whose stories and myths are intimately interwoven with this beautiful landscape, and it hasn’t been at all hard to open to her here, not only in the land itself, but in the weather, especially throughout the winter months.

This winter, she came first with mists that hung low over the meander of the river, and lay like a steaming white soup in the valleys.

Then she came, relentlessly, in heavy rains and flooding; her elemental energy could be felt in the swollen River Tay as it powered seaward, spilling over into the water meadows, creating lakes, invading homes, her waters brown, murky and unwelcoming.

She then visited with frosts, so hard and thick that at first glance you would have sworn it was snow. In time, she shook her apron and the snows fell, huge flakes driven along by icy gusts that stung faces but covered the woods, fields and town with her fresh, white plaid, as her legend recounts.

One particularly frosty morning, I took a walk up though my local woods, up onto a path that looks out over the fields and valleys. It was a stunningly bright day, the sky a cloudless blue. The sun caught the frost on the pavement and roads, every footfall accompanied by its sparkle. As I climbed the steep wooded brae up through the gorge, the burn’s waters were clear and icy. The trees were in shadow until the sun broke through the bare branches as I reached the top of the path.

Walking along the ridge, the fields were dusted with frost, the hedgerows coated; the twisted, bare hawthorns like the Cailleach’s bony fingers. I could see the snow-topped mountains on the horizon and in the valleys that stretched out before me were wisps of mist, reminiscent of Cailleach’s long white hair. The light was dazzlingly golden, and the white landscape was tinged with blues, silvers and violets. The world felt so clear and beautiful!

I was struck at the freshness of the air, how far I could see, and it spoke to me of that quality of clarity and far-seeing that I personally associate with the Cailleach. Her harsh winters ask of us that we go inward; that we hunker down and take time to reflect; to rest and assess. We are also forced at times to encounter discomfort, to face challenge and to feel left out in the cold; she asks us to be present with these feelings and to examine their impact on us. We can grumble and resist, but if we do, we miss out on the opportunity to give meaning to our struggles. Cailleach sees the bigger picture from her mountain tops; her vision as sharp and clear as a raptor; every direction, every lay of the landscape, every twist and turn of life coming together like ice patterns frozen on a window; experiences of both beauty and starkness, of meaning and mystery. She may appear to our limited human perception as grumpy and harsh, but her clarity is a gift that enables us to learn, to grow wise, to develop discernment and, ultimately, to take responsibility for our actions and make better choices for ourselves. I have actually found in her a surprising patience and compassion, and this discovery is helping me to have patience and compassion with myself.

The Cailleach’s clarity has also felt deeply poignant as I watch my father-in-law’s Alzheimer’s take a brutal hold on him. His own clarity and skills of assessment are rapidly dissolving into confusion; his ability to arrange language into meaning, almost gone. It has been heart-breaking to witness his decline. So much of how we learn and grow is connected to our memories and experiences; these shape so much of who we are. My lovely father-in-law is disappearing before us, and the painful absence that we often see behind his eyes evokes one of the Cailleach’s most challenging requests, that we surrender to our own powerlessness and vulnerability in the face of both our own and other’s mortality. She also asks that we trust in that process of release, of letting ourselves and others fall backward into the void, and in doing so, find in her a rest and peace. It’s not always easy to trust that request…

Cailleach has also come this winter as star-filled, infinite night skies that hint at the eternal, and clouds of breath that hang in lamp light. Some days have been so dark and grey, it was as if dawn and dusk were all there were. Those liminal times of dawn and dusk, the Crone is so kin with; they and she, open us to the call of the Otherworld, to dreams and to sleep.

Here in Scotland, the legends state that the Cailleach is the crone of winter who keeps the maiden Bride captive over the dark winter months, they may even be two sides of the same goddess, the one transforming into the other as the seasons change. As Imbolc approaches and Bride tentatively reveals herself in the growing light, I give love and thanks to the Cailleach for all her winter blessings and for the hope that she heralds better times, a new dream, a new emergence…


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The Essential Book Of Druidry ~ Connect With the Spirit of Nature

October 10, 2023 at 2:24 pm (Uncategorized)
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I am really delighted and excited to announce the publication of my very own book: The Essential Book of Druidry ~ Connect With The Spirit of Nature

Having moved back to Scotland this summer, all the upheavel and resettling has meant that I have barely had a chance to take it all in, but I am really thrilled to share my little book with you. This week I was interviewed by Philip Carr-Gomm about it’s publication and thought I would share this here too.

If you would like your own copy of the book, it is available in the OBOD Store, Amazon and Waterstones

Now I am finally settling into my new home here in Scotland, I hope to be sharing more entries on the Druid Thurible Blog over the coming months; some tasters from the book and general ponderings on Nature Spirituality. It would be lovely if you could join me…

Love and Blessings, M /|\ 🙂


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Touching Avalon

June 19, 2023 at 12:49 pm (Uncategorized)

by Maria Ede-Weaving

I have just had the pleasure of spending my birthday in Glastonbury – always a joy to find myself in this place again; I have so many magical memories of it and have been blessed with some powerfully transformative times here over the years.

The first time I visited as an adult, my climb up the Tor was in a scarily high wind, the darkest of storm clouds glowering above St Michael’s tower at its peak. I was actually just a little bit terrified – but it was an encounter with the elements – and with that extraordinarily shaped hill – that served to vividly impress upon my psyche how close the Otherworld can be felt in this memorable landscape. I was hooked!

For weeks after, I had a repeated dream that the Tower on the Tor was cracking and crumbling, just like the Lightning Struck Tower of the Tarot. It was apparent that my visit had somehow triggered my own inner Tower moment: old spiritual constructs breaking apart; something new and mysterious pushing to be born from the rubble.

I had recalled that prior to that first visit to Glastonbury, I had dreamed of a woman with long dark hair, dressed in a purple gown. She had a strength and power in her presence that I was a little afraid of.  

She and I were in a beautiful garden. She held a staff up above her head and tapped an archway of flowers that stood before us; she then walked through the archway and up to a second arch further into the garden and repeated the gesture. She turned to me, pointed to the first archway and said, ‘when you walk through this arch, you will experience all the blissful feelings it is possible to feel, but in order to be able to return through this portal again, you must walk through the second arch, and here you will experience all the darkest emotions it is possible to feel’.

It has struck me many times since, that this dream encounter illustrates so well the high and lows of our spiritual journey. When we come to Druidry, we can feel the most blissful sense of homecoming and joy; our magical vision expands; our spiritual senses heighten and we feel at one with our world. However, spiritual paths are essentially journeys of self-discovery and quests for self-knowledge: at some point, we walk through that second arch and hit head-on our own shadow. This can bring with it the most painful of underworld journeys as we find ourselves taken apart and reshaped in the Cauldron of Annwn.

The journey through that shadowy portal – whether it is triggered through loss or bereavement, through disillusionment or betrayal, through illness or any number of life’s challenges – can feel relentless and crushingly grim, but we do eventually surface, a little less inflated but a lot wiser. In time, we are walking through that blissful arch once more, but this time our bliss comes from a deeper, more authentic place, rooted in understanding and compassion, born of experience…

I now interpret the woman in my dreams as the Lady of Avalon, and her transformative and healing power has been a huge source of inspiration and strength on my path. Avalon, as magical Otherworld parallel to our own material world, is – like the Chalice Well and White Springs of Glastonbury – an ever-flowing well-spring, a magical source we can always connect to should we need it. It can feed us and sustain us; it flows up from the deep, fertile, dark earth into the sun and air and we are quenched and revitalized by it.

I have walked through those arches many times since that dream all those years ago, and although Glastonbury is a place dear to my heart, I now understand that Avalon is around us and within us, in touch with us, no matter where we dwell or where we travel. Sometimes, if we are lucky, we can pierce its misty veil and glimpse its beauty more clearly; sometimes we just have to trust it is there. Either way, we carry the Temple within us.

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Dream Your Dreams

February 7, 2021 at 4:38 pm (Uncategorized)

It has taken some concerted psychological and emotional digging to connect with the energies of Imbolc this year. Little wonder given all that has happened in the world over the last twelve months. I associate Imbolc with the envisioning of dreams; all those seeds that we want to plant and nurture germinating in the dark soil, feeling the quickening of growing warmth and light. And yet, with all the uncertainty, the restrictions, the sadness and loss, our dreams and plans may feel very distant, rather frozen in winter ice, for now.

However, I also know deep down, that our dreams are even more important during these challenging times. The forming of dreams and visions in our imagination is the first key step in Magic; without this, there is nothing to act upon, nothing to materialize. Not all our dreams and visions will come into form, but without this vital starting point, we don’t get to flex our materializing muscles and the world will miss out on so much potential and many beautiful creations.

by Wendy Andrew

At Imbolc, the Goddess Brighid/Bridie reminds us of that wonderful Maiden energy. I have been thinking a lot about my own maiden self; the dreams she had, so many of which failed to materialize. I recall her desire to venture out into the world, her anticipation and her sense of adventure and discovery, her passion and excitement about life and its potential. Of course, we come to discover that each life will bring moments that make us feel deeply sad or grief-stricken, our dreams crumbling, our spirits and bodies too weary and beaten down to even imagine we might express that Maiden energy again…but, we also learn –  over time – that we can and do.

This is the beautiful message of Imbolc. Even if we are deep in a place where we feel utterly hopeless and lost, Imbolc gently reassures us that new life is paradoxically both fragile and strong, vulnerable and resilient – just as we are. It says that life will always renew in its right and proper season and all it asks of us is that we remain patience and have faith, that we keep the flame lit, even if it is the dimmest glow hidden beneath ash.



Despite it all, keep dreaming your dreams, even if you currently have little belief that they will ever manifest because one day, maybe now, maybe soon, maybe far in the future, the opportunity, and the energy and focus you need to work towards those dreams will return and bolster your spirit.

During such difficult and uncertain times, dreaming is a radical act. Maybe for most of us, our current dreams have become more simple and poignant: the dream to hold and kiss the ones we love; to move freely in the world without having to think of distancing; to have security and certaintly. Maybe also, this time demands of us that we dream new dreams and visions about how we function as societies, how we care for the vulnerable and our increasingly threatened planet. Imbolc is also traditionally associated with purification; there is much in our world that no longer serves us and needs to be released into the cleansing waters of the melt.

Dream your dreams; hold them close to the warmth of your heart and remember this planet needs our best and highest visions that we and our world might heal.

Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.
~ Langston Hughes


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The Ties That Bind

February 20, 2018 at 3:35 pm (Uncategorized)
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In the New Age community there is often talk about the act of cutting cords. This essentially means the severing of the binds that connect us to negative habits or people, any damaging ties to the past, situations that no longer serve us and things or relationships that drain us in our present. These cords have a very real, physical impact on us and some clairvoyants claim they can see them actually attached to our bodies. Anything that stirs a powerful negative emotion can take up residence not only in our minds and emotions – we all know what it is like to obsess over something and the way that can make us feel – but it can also be held in our bodies manifesting as tension, anxiety or stress.  The cutting of cords is seen as a kind of emotional and psychic housecleaning because carrying unwanted baggage or suffering toxic relationships are not healthy for any of us.

However, I have never felt entirely comfortable with the idea of ‘cutting’ cords. It feels like a very sudden and almost violent severing of something that, although might be holding us back, is nevertheless a part of us and may have been so for many years. It might just be semantics but I much prefer the image of untying a knot, or unravelling a plait as a method of visual releasing. It somehow is a better analogy to the process of letting go, because in truth, it can take time to remove those negative thoughts, relationships, habits and situations that bind us. The cutting of a cord suggests instantaneous results which for most of us, doesn’t really happen. Those things have been woven into our lives over time, and the painful nature of them means that they need some gentle handling and loving patience to let them go. For me, any magical or ritual act must be followed up with ‘acting in accord’; that is following through on our intention with action that supports it. This is the hard work bit, the place where we practice our intention until it becomes a reality.

The image of a knot or plait unravelling resonates with me because the act of weaving a thread and unpicking it, suggest that we have a creative input into the living of our lives. Unravelling the binds gives us time to honour those relationships or the experiences of our lives that have possibly brought us to a bad place.  The energy of those things remains in our hands and we are given the choice to reweave them in ways that are more appropriate for who we are now, or for who we would like to be.

In the past I have used plaiting and knotting of cords in ritual as a way of focusing attention on what I want to bring into my life, so it makes sense to use this technique in reverse for what I wish to remove. When we are struggling with those emotional shackles or with relationships that do us harm, we need to be kind with ourselves and understand that it’s ok if the letting go takes a little time. We are asked to be patience but consistent; to acknowledge any pain, sadness or resistance around the issue – we don’t have time to do that if we cut. Cutting demands an immediate end; unweaving coaxes it gently.

I guess I feel that cutting doesn’t give me the time to integrate the experience. We can’t remove our past, unlive what has happened; those things remain and are a part of us. However,  by unweaving and reweaving, we take what is ours and make it anew; we transform challenging life energy into something more productive for ourselves; we weave a new pattern for our lives.

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The Lightning Struck Tower and the Star of Hope

November 24, 2017 at 4:21 pm (Uncategorized)
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It has been a sad and worrying week. Some of my loved ones are going through a terrible time; it is hard to see those you care about in crisis.  It’s got me thinking about grace under pressure and how we deal with those times when our world crumbles.

Being a tarot nut, I so often turn to its wisdom, in good times and bad. This week has drawn my attention to two Major Arcana cards whose energies feel very present at the moment. The first is the Tower and the second the Star. At first glance, they look the complete antithesis of each other but I always think of them as a pair who work together to bring movement and healing.

The Tower’s imagery is pretty dramatic and alarming. Traditional images often portray a tower struck by lightning, the structure crumbling and its inhabitants falling to the ground. It doesn’t take years of studying tarot to know that this card speaks of those sudden, shocking happenings in our life that rock our foundations and bring us to our knees. When things happen that change everything; when we find ourselves standing amongst the rubble that had once been the dependable structure of our life, we meet the Tower in all it awesome power. It can feel like the most unwelcome visitor.

Despite its troubling reputation, the Tower can also bring liberation. Sometimes its energies are just what we need when some area of our life has become stagnant or when we are ignoring things that desperately need to change. I think quite often the Tower turns up when we have been resisting these much-needed changes; when we repeatedly ignore life’s subtle hints that all is not well, it is as if the pressure builds and something has to give. If we really need to engage with that place of transformation and we don’t go willingly, then often life will take us there regardless. If we look a little deeper and are honest with ourselves, what feels like a nasty surprise or a sudden shock can reveal that a push to transform had actually been simmering away beneath the surface for some time.

The Tower comes to bring life-altering momentum; it comes with powerful revelation; it comes to smash apart our illusions; it gives us the opportunity to dismantle the psychological walls we build around us that are no longer a shelter but a prison. It introduces us to new ways to see and experience the world, ourselves and others. It might feel horrendously tough to be flattened by its unstoppable force but it does present us with the opportunity to make sure our foundations are good and true, that we might rebuild on a stronger footing. Of course, the Tower is not always a full- on wreaking ball; it can come as a sudden revelation that blows you away; major paradigm shifts are Tower moments. Whatever form it takes, you can be sure the old structures will fall away and suddenly you are left looking at a new landscape once obscured.

After the Tower, the Star is a soothing balm. The Star is a card of healing renewal, of hope; it is the calm after the storm. Tower moments can be so painful that our trust in life is shaken; the Star is the return of that trust. The Tower can be utterly disorientating, what we thought we knew about ourselves and life can shatter – all signposts gone, all recognisable landmarks obliterated – but the Star reminds us that we all have an inner compass, a guiding presence that will bring us through the darkest times. There is a beautiful quote from Virginia Woolf’s book Orlando which I have long-loved and which for me speaks so beautifully of the way the Tower and Star interact to bring growth and healing to our lives:

 

Change was incessant, and change perhaps would never cease. High battlements of thought, habits that had seemed as durable as stone, went down like shadows at the touch of another mind and left a naked sky and fresh stars twinkling in it.

If you meet the Tower, hold on to this quote; know that something new is being born; trust the process; nurture yourself as best you can and as the rubble falls about you, keep looking for that naked sky full of stars.

Tarot images from the Druidcraft Tarot by Philip & Stephanie Carr-Gomm – artwork by Will Worthington

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Your Spiritual Team

November 17, 2017 at 3:44 pm (Uncategorized)
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I love working with different aspects of deity. I am fascinated by how others work with the Divine. I have been a soft polytheist for years now. In my own experience, I have found that there are Gods and Goddesses that seem to be with us for life; I have some that seem to be very long -term, their presence felt in my life even before I became a Pagan, only later realising who there were, once I had a framework to understand them better. Then there are those that come to us at certain points in our life, helping us to explore specific issues we might be facing and then when the work is done, quietly move on. There are also deities that we might choose to work with for a single ritual or when honouring the seasonal changes. Sometimes we might feel a certain energy lurking in our periphery for years and then suddenly, when the time is right, they reveal themselves fully.

We can certainly choose deities to approach but I have come to believe that the ones most important to our development choose us. They can make their presence known through synchronicities, signs and symbols that jump out at us and nip at our heels until we pay attention. The contact will feel alive and vibrant. I have done rituals with a specific deity, choosing them for the purpose of the ritual and quite often when I have done that, the sense of connection to that deity feels intellectual; it can feel like going through the motions but not really feeling it. When we make a true and meaningful connection, there is a strong sense that there is someone on the other end of the line; it has a charge to it.

Because I feel comfortable viewing deity as having many different aspects and expressions, I like to think of the ones that I work with as my spiritual team. They are rooting for me; have my best interests at heart, even if their lessons are challenging. Sometimes, when I feel alone with my troubles, I like to close my eyes and visualise them standing in a circle around me – it is comforting, strengthening and grounding.

In the last few weeks a newish member of my spiritual team has come to light. At various points in the past, I have worked with the Goddess Bast but in a much more intellectual sense of wishing to explore her qualities and express them. Just over a year ago, I began working more in earnest when I began working with the moon cycles again (see Reaching for the Balance) but when that practice drifted, I hadn’t really thought of her for months.  Lately, there has been a sudden shift in gear and without prompting from me, she has stepped into the foreground.

A few weeks ago I came down with a horrible tummy bug; I felt awful and exhausted for days after and not at all right for most of the month. A couple of days in, I had fallen asleep on the sofa in the afternoon and I had a vivid dream, so vivid I actually thought that I had woken up. I dreamed I was on the sofa and my beautiful little  black cat – who died 12 years ago – was curled into my body. It was the most comforting feeling. I suddenly heard a voice say, ‘you haven’t been feeding the cat’ and I felt a sudden panic that I had to go and get food, berating myself that I had forgotten, and wondering why and how I had failed to remember. The urgency woke me and the first thought that came into my head as I came to consciousness was Bast!

From that point I felt the strongest urge to set up an altar for her and spend some time there exploring and meditating on her qualities, opening to her energies, reaching out. It has been an interesting experience that has revealed aspects that I hadn’t necessarily associated with her before, particularly with regard to her more motherly, protective sides. I think she is very much a goddess of joyful, sensual expression, a goddess of music, dance and pleasure (I certain haven’t been ‘feeding’ those in my life nearly enough!) but she was originally depicted with a lion’s head – very much like Sekhmet, and in her role as Eye of Ra, she goes into the darkness of the underworld with her father Ra and fiercely protects him on that dangerous journey. And so for all her ‘lightness’, she sees in the dark and can help us confront our fears too, all those things that can drain our joy if we don’t bring them to light and deal with them.

My partner Steve found the most beautiful statue of Bast for me. He actually found me two, one the classic cat shape which now sits on my hearth and home shrine (Bast is a protectress of the home after all!) and one which is a copy of a Bast head housed in the British Museum. It’s such a gorgeous face – I love it! But moreover, on her ears and forehead is carved a vulture, its wings spread, it claws holding two symbols that look like rings. I knew that the vulture headdress was worn by Goddesses such as Isis and Mut but had never associated it with Bast. In Ancient Egypt, the Vulture Goddess was Nekhbet. Vultures were believed to be all female and self-generating; they were also seen to be devoted and protective mothers to their young. And so, Nekhbet birthed herself and all life and took these back inside her (vultures are brilliant at devouring carrion!), linking her to the birth/death / rebirth energies of nature – she was called the ‘mother of mothers’. In time her qualities were syncretised with Mut and Isis and other goddesses and to find her connected to Bast deepens my understanding of Bast’s nature; she may well rule pleasure but she is not just a fluffy sex kitten; she has depth and complexity as all aspects of deity do.

Hearth and Hone Altar with Bast and wall hanging by Wendy Andrew

I discovered that the vulture’s claws are gripping the Shen symbol, a ring that represents encircling divine protection. This combination of fierce, motherly protectress, joy bringer, fertile creator and healer, has been so what I have needed. Her call for me to ‘feed’ her is also a call to feed myself; to give myself the love, joy and healthy boundaries that I need to heal from the challenges that have faced me these last few years. Whether she will stay with me forever, or slip away when her work is done, doesn’t really matter; I am grateful for her presence.

Incidentally, I have now taken the plunge on Instagram, so if you feel you would like to, you can find me there @luckyloom369. xxx

Do take a look at Wendy Andrew’s beautiful wall hangings here.

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The Flowing River and the Book of Life

October 6, 2017 at 2:38 pm (Uncategorized)

Druidry encourage a positive engagement with the Bardic Arts. it recognises that our urge to express ourselves through our creativity is, at heart, a spiritual act: when we create we share, in some small way, in the vast and mysterious act of creation. Not only that, our creativity can illustrate just what it means to be human. How often have we read a poem or piece of prose and got that ‘me too’ feeling, or when listening to music felt something beyond words open up inside us? When we create, we share something fundamental and vital about ourselves and our experience of living; when we are exposed to the creativity of others, we are given the potential to gain a deeper understand of life and self. The path of the Bard is a transformative one – it can change us, dissolving the boundaries of our small and limited selves to reveal something bigger, richer.

In Druidry, the concept of Awen is intimately linked to our creativity. We seek to open ourselves to this vibrant energy, allowing it to move through us and animate our creations. We feel its touch when our awareness is heightened, when a grey world is cracked open and flooded by colour. An encounter with Awen is essentially a sudden change of perception that – although transitory in our experience of it – can have a lasting impact through our creative efforts. A little Awen takes up residence in the things we create and through the sharing of these, touches others – at least, this is the always the potential when we offer our art to the world.

The word Awen is often translated as ‘flowing spirit’ and it is no surprise how many deities traditionally associated with inspiration and the creative arts are connected not only to flowing water but to knowledge. If we think of the Goddess Brighid, there is always a sense that her inspiration brings with it the gift of a deeper knowing – the fires of her forge melt us down, change our shape, toughen us on the anvil of experience in order to deepen our wisdom. Her waters nourish and sustain; her springs suggest to us that deep within there is a place we can draw from that will feed us; that this quiet place – when we follow its course – can expand and swell, spilling over the brim of our inertia into movement, and that if we step into this current, we will be carried by its powerful momentum back to the Source.

I am drawn to the Hindu Goddess Sarasvati, who in many ways shares a good deal with Brighid and the gifts of Awen. She is the Lady of all creative arts and sciences – musicians, artists, writers, students, teachers and philosophers call upon her for her blessings and guidance. She was originally a river Goddess and is strongly associated with flowing water in her role as goddess of knowledge and creativity. What I find particularly interesting is that her name translates as ‘Sara’: essence/essential knowledge of ‘Sva’: the self. Her name suggests this link between creativity and a deeper knowledge and understanding of ourselves and life.

In her iconography, she is often portrayed with four arms, one carrying a book or scroll, another a crystal mala, the remaining two playing a Veena (a lute-like instrument). She possesses a pot of sacred water, so reminiscent of the grail and is often seated upon a white swan (note that Brighid is also associated with swans) or a lotus. Here we see references to her connections to Divine knowledge, truth and wisdom; of how the spiritual life is intimately connected to the powerfully expressive and purifying nature of our creativity and that these are made manifest through music, words, the arts and sciences – through our actual creations: Awen made manifest. In this act of shaping spirit into form, a little more of life is revealed to us and shared with others.

A couple or so years back, I went to the OBOD 50th Gathering in Glastonbury. After an evening of celebration, music and poetry, 400 Druids stood in the dark watching a glorious firework display. In the magical silence that followed, a spontaneous chanting of the Awen began. It rippled out, swelling and cascading over and through ever soul there. It was an extraordinary moment. The evening had been a celebration of sharing not only creativity but our community and the sense of spiritual connection that these inspire when the sacred relationship between them is honoured.  The power of chanting the Awen is that it symbolises the magical shift that occurs when our individual creative voices join in with and enrich the whole. The Bardic arts have the potential to change things for the better; to add to the collective wisdom for the good of all, which is why Druidry’s focus on them is such an important part of our spiritual path.

Through our creativity, we are each a drop of inspiration in Sarasvati’s river, flowing out into the world and sustaining life; adding knowledge to the sacred book she holds in her hands, for the future benefit of all who come after us.

(First posted on Philip Carr-Gomm’s Blog June 25th 2014)

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Companions on the Path

September 27, 2017 at 3:13 pm (Uncategorized)

With regard to my previous post about creating new neural pathways, I thought I would share some practical tips on how to help with this. It can be tough to shift our thoughts away from old ingrained patterns of thinking and it can be useful to find tools that can help us to stay focused and strengthen our resolve.

I have several techniques that I like to use and they work for me but you might come up with ones of your own. However, in the spirit of sharing, I offer the following – each has become a trusty companion on my path.

As previously mentioned, I am a great fan of the mineral kingdom and I love working with crystals and stones. Many believe that crystals and minerals possess energies that can have a transformative impact upon our bodies and emotional states. Having worked with them for years, I would say that this is true but I don’t think it is necessary to believe this in order to draw benefit.

Many crystals are said to contain particular properties and there are countless books listing these but I think that although these properties can be valid, it is useful to create our own associations with each stone as we work with them. It is always good to meditate with individual stones to see what we feel about them; to really get to know them; personal associations have a power all their own because they have meaning for us.

Regardless of whether we believe that stones contain a healing energy, we can set up intensions when we work with them, using associations to give strength to our intensions. For instance, lately I have been working with a very beautiful stone called Labradorite – it is one of my favourites. I meditate with it, carry it in my pocket and even sleep with it under my pillow.

labradorite

Labradorite flashes

Labradorite hiding its magic

As a stone, on first glance it looks to be a dull grey-greenish colour but when you shift it about, the light catches it and draws from it stunning flashes of colour: golds, greens, blues, indigoes, reds and oranges, on some stones even pinks and violets. Because of this ‘hidden’ beauty that is only glimpsed if your shift the angle,  I have come to associate this as a stone that helps me to remember that when life feels dull and I feel disconnected, I need only shift my own perspective to see the magic that lies beneath. It is a stone that reminds me about the power of my own mind to change my reality, and that perception is the key. This association has become so strong for me that every time I hold or look at Labradorite, my brain shifts a gear, it makes me feel physically and psychologically strong, well and happy – it has helped me to stay on track when I have felt myself slipping back into spiritual apathy. It literally works as a touchstone for a way of thinking and being that I am practising.

I also use this technique with Animals, Trees and Plants. Many people work with animal guides, tree and plant energies to help them focus on and develop certain qualities. If we stay open, we often find certain animals, plants or trees synchronistically popping up in our lives. So often, when this has happened to me and I research them, I find that they offer some help in understanding a problem I am struggling with. But we don’t need to wait for them to appear in the world outside of us; we can simply quiet ourselves and ask which animals, plants or trees might help us (you can do this with stones too) and see what comes.

I have been drawn to work with Fox for some time now; I kept seeing them outside, hearing them bark at night and they would suddenly pop into my mind when meditating or just randomly during the day. I have come to understand that Fox has been helping me to adapt to my situation and accept where I find myself – I had been feeling exiled from my sense of home and Foxes are masters at making any environment work for them.

Equally, I have worked a lot with the energies of White Willow, a tree that has a traditional association with the healing of grief; watery giants who remind me to let my emotions flow and clear out the stagnant blockages within me. And Birch too, the tree of new beginnings, the first to take seed on any area that has been cleared – after feeling that my old life had been totally dismantled, these gentle, beautiful trees have helped me to feel hopeful that I can seed a new life amongst the rubble.

And so, you can see how these beings of the stone, animal and plant kingdom can become guides when we are seeking to break free from old thought forms and create new ones. We can turn to them to strengthen our resolve and deepen our understanding as to how we can best achieve our goals. Such an approach also reminds us that all beings have value, that all creation can gift us with powerful insights that enrich our lives. I always remember to thank my companions and recognise that there is a gift of exchange in the relationship. I like to honour them as powerful teachers and give thanks for their presence in my life.

One more tool that I have found to be invaluable – which at first might not seem to be a spiritual practice at all – is exercise; when we have become stuck and want to shift our perspective, there is nothing like exercise to shake up stagnancy and lift our mood. I have practiced Yoga for years and it has been so useful in not only keeping me physically flexible but also reminding me that emotional and mental flexibility is so important too. When we are struggle with change, we can hold tension in our bodies; tension is resistance and yoga can help us to release and open and allow a greater flow in our lives, as well as helping us to relax. But I also recommend doing a little cardio vascular exercise each day, something that really gets your blood pumping. This will release happy hormones into your system, brighten your mood, lift your energy, and when this happens it is so much easier to focus positively on the changes you want to make. Not only that, exercise grounds us in our bodies, brings us right into our present moment; when we are changing our thought patterns, we also need to act on these, make them a reality in our physical world, and being present in our bodies –  in the here and now – is key to this.

I hope you will find these suggestions useful and use them to support you along the way. Explore and find ones of your own that resonate with you.  It can be hard to make changes but help is always at hand and it can come from the most unlikely places.

running girl

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