The awful events happening in our world at the moment have me feeling a deep heaviness and grief; I have lead for bones. My day-to-day reality is actually relatively peaceful, but it is impossible to ignore what is happening ‘out there’. I am sure I don’t need to remind anyone that there are distressing and ugly eruptions of our darkest collective shadow being given full rein in some places, and by some people. Although I might hope that this underbelly brought into the light potentially offers us an opportunity to collectively heal, I despair that this will not happen in time to avoid immense suffering and pain. The immense suffering and pain are already happening, and I have never felt so impotent. I have lived long enough to witness some pretty awful things that have happened in our world, but this feels different somehow and more akin to the dark times my own parents went through as the generation who were caught up in World War II.
I am not a fan of talking about ‘dark forces’ but I think certain personal and collective wounds, when unaddressed, can manifest in cruelty, and in a world that feels so uncertain for so many people, the simplified certainties of a politics of blame and scapegoating can have good people losing their moral compass and turning a blind eye to that cruelty.
My Druidry has always been spiritual and psychological. A key part of my Druid practice has been turning my own lens inward to see what needs to be healed and integrated in my own psyche. I do this so that I might take my place in this beautiful world in ways that are constructive and positive. I believe that Druidry is a path of compassion but it also requires we be fearless in calling out our own BS, when needed. That isn’t easy and it is not always clear when we are in the grip of our own shadow, acting out in ways that cause others pain. There seems to be a good deal of acting out from those unconscious wounds in our world at present. Trying to keep our footing in this troubling climate can feel exhausting at times.
As we move towards the Equinox, it is useful to explore where our balance lies. Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are slowing moving towards the darker months. The light is noticeably lessening, the mornings chillier. I have felt such resistance in me to the coming of autumn this year, fighting back the growing darkness – the going inward – probably because in rest and introspection, I know that I can so often be confronted with painful and uncomfortable feelings.
In my own efforts to regain my equilibrium, I keep trying to bring myself back to my body, and to the body of the earth, to ground and dissipate the anxiety I feel, but also to allow myself to acknowledge the grief and to witness the horror without denial, without experiencing emotional paralysis in the face of the unspeakable. If we stop witnessing, if we stop calling out the injustice, we lose our humanity and we need our humanity more than ever. However, feeling the distress can be so tough if we cannot soothe our nervous systems on a regular basis and let those feelings move through and out of us. We all know the frazzle of overwhelm: exhaustion and burn out can be particularly intense if we are not able to act on our distress. Feeling like powerless bystanders can leave us drained and hopeless, so taking care of our well-being becomes doubly important. The world needs us to stay grounded in order to play our part in a much-needed collective healing. We can’t do that if we are exhausted and consumed with fear.
I have had a recurring image in my spiritual ponderings over the last couple of days. Whenever I feel that dread of the winter coming – or the world gets too much – something tells me to plant bulbs for spring. Every year autumn comes and I always forget to plant them, but when I think of the symbolic significance of this act, it fills me with hope. We bury our bulbs in the dark, cold soil; we can so easily forget they are there until suddenly after all the bitter, frozen, dark times, a miracle of emergence occurs; an explosion of life, heralding the greening of the world once more, with all the joy and renewed energy that this brings.
I will be asking myself this Equinox, which bulbs should I plant, both actually and psychologically. What shall I offer over to the earth’s fertile darkness that She might birth a new hope, a new energy, a new healing, a new way to be? Perhaps we could all plant bulbs with magical intention – I still have faith in these simple acts that come from the heart.
If you are struggling, do please check out Philip Carr-Gomm’s wonderful new course: How to Stay Sane in an Insane World – all proceeds go to Doctor’s without Borders. And do please share you own coping strategies in the comments. /|\
A Druid Thurible 