Category Archives: Change

Visioning the Future through the Bardic Arts: Creating Vision, Creating Hope

Reishi mushroom from the Plant Spirit Oracle offers a vision of healing, growth, and regeneration

I used to be a big fan of reading dystopian fiction when I was younger. It seemed like a distant world, a reality far from our own. But perhaps now, those books resonate too close to reality. As someone who practices magic, I have to wonder, would the concepts present 1984 be as present if the book hadn’t been so well-read? Did George Orwell manifest these concepts as a magical act, or were these already present and he simply channeled what was already coming into focus? The same can be true of many such influential works: The Handmaid’s Tale, Brave New World, Bladerunner, and more. We also have things like robots, invented by Issac Asimov as science fiction in the 1940s and 60 years or more later, became a reality.  One might argue that despite the fantastical nature of these works, works like these have had an influence on present human culture.  Perhaps, it is a sign of the times that most of what has been produced from a mass media standpoint in the 20th-21st century is rather dystopian and chilling, with some notable exceptions. As we have recently seen here in the US, words have power.  Words can shape reality and incite people to action. Is this the world we want to create?

As someone who practices magic, I certainly accept that our intentions and the directing of our will can help shape our realities. I also accept that for many things, we have to have a spark or vision before we can see it come to reality.  It is hard to bring something to life if we first can’t envision that it could exist. If we accept this to be true, then, in turn, we can consciously harness intentions and that bring visions to life that help create a better future. I think that one of the powerful things that art of all forms can do is help envision the future.

 

Poison Ivy from the Plant Spirit Oracle – teaching new ways of interacting with nature.

At this point, we are facing both ecological disaster and many human challenges that grow more serious by the year as our society continues the “slow crash”.  This era of human civilization will decline and end–but the question is–what comes after?   How can we be good ancestors for the future?  Thus, I am always looking for ways to do more. I want to take responsibility for my own behaviors physically and metaphysically. Physically, this might include being careful with my purchases, working to heal and regenerate landscapes, and engaging in other kinds of sacred action. Metaphysically, it can be bringing forth visions of a better future–we can create the visions now so that they can enter circulation and become something that helps seed a brighter world.

I also share the rest of this post with a caveat. People create art for a lot of different reasons, both external and internal. You might consider visioning arts as one of many reasons to create, a bonus reason, a reason that offers your art additional purpose.  Not all art has to have this kind of vision either, but some art forms and works may be very well suited to it.

Creating a Sacred Vision

If you buy into this idea and you practice the bardic arts of any kind (poetry, music, dance, writing, visual art, fine crafts, etc) you might want to give this idea some thought.  What vision are you putting into the world? What is the world you want to create?  Towards that end, I have a few suggestions for helping you hone and refine some ideas.  The most important thing you can do is spend some time in meditation and reflection about what vision of the world, what ideas and concepts, you want to bring forth.   So here are a few things to consider:

  1. Start by thinking about the specific kind of art (bardic work) you produce and what kinds of messages you can share. Certain art forms are easier to convey messages than others.  When you convey messages in your work, can the work stand on its own, or, do you want to share some information about the work in addition to the work itself?
  2. Consider presenting general philosophy about your work.  Messaging can come in a lot of forms: these sometimes come in the form of “artist statements” that talks about what you do and why you do it.  This is especially helpful for work that can be interpreted in many ways, or whose interpretation is not immediately clear upon examination (e.g. woodcarving).  You can share these messages on social media, on your website, even with the physical art that someone receives.
  3. Consider your specific messages or themes you want to convey.   Perhaps you have a very specific message or a general one. Think about the thing you most would like to see in the world–write it down, and keep it in mind when you create.
  4. Consider the symbols you use. Symbols, whether they are intentional magical sigils or just broader symbols, also carry tremendous power. If you have specific symbols or symbolism you want to use in your work, this should also be considered!

Now, I’ll present three core visioning goals for my own work as an artist–I  am sharing them both to demonstrate an example of the kinds of visions you can create but also to spark your own creativity about how your bardic arts of all kinds (poetry, visual art, music, dance, fine crafts, writing) might support your own unique vision.

Messaging and Visioning: An Example

As a visual artist and a writer, I am always thinking about how I can bring this aspect of magical visioning into my work. It is one of the reasons I create, but certainly, not the only one! These are my three goals.

Presenting an alternative perspective and value of nature.

One of the first ways I see us using art, writing, poetry, music, and other bardic arts is to present alternatives or ways of reseeing our present reality.  We can show a different perspective on something, offer a new angle, or provide new insight through our work.  I think you can do this with anything, but as a druid who has her heart set on preserving the natural world, my focus s on nature and on providing alternative messaging and visions.

The art show!

I’ll give you a good example of this. As I’ve shared before on this blog, I live in a region of the USA that is an extraction zone: we have fracking wells, 1000’s of miles of streams full of acid and iron from mine runoff, mountaintop removal, boney dumps, logging, and coal-fired power plants–to name just a few.  Around here, most people view nature as something to extract; a resource to be profited from, and a way to keep jobs in the region. Hunting and fishing are also big around our rural area; while I’ve met some hunters who have reverence, unfortunately, many shoot animals, birds, and rodents for sport.  Thus, there is very little respect or love for nature and in my art, I work to offer a different message. 

A few years ago, I was invited to hang some work through our local art association at the regional hospital. It was a nice opportunity to have my work seen by a lot of people.  I thought really carefully about the content of my art and decided to work to present an alternative view of resource extraction.  I painted trees with hearts in the ground, I painted the telluric currents of earth energy flowing, I painted regenerated landscapes.  It’s hard to say how these pieces of art touched those who saw them, but I hope they did some good. The more these kinds of alternative messages and perspectives can get into circulation, the more “normalized” they become and the more power they hold.

Staghorn Sumac ornaments from reclaimed wood

Another way of thinking about this is in the tools and materials I use–there’s a message about valuing nature inherent in this work.  For example, my neighbor plowed over a beautiful stand of staghorn sumac last summer without even knowing what it was or how it could be used.  This beautiful stand was one I got to know well and I was really distraught at how it happened.  This really saddened me, but he did allow me to come in and harvest as much as I wanted of the wood and roots.  I did so, and at the holidays, I made him an ornament from the beautiful root wood and put a note on there that it was from the wood he let me harvest.  Perhaps this beautiful wood will have him think twice about cutting down the trees and seeing some inherent value in them.

Re-enchanting the world

After someone is willing to see nature, to value it more, to understand it in a new light, then I can shift to the more magical and potent part of the message–the message of the world being an enchanted place helping re-enchant humanity’s perspective of the living earth. If a new vision is step 1, then re-enchantment is step 2.  In other posts, I’ve written about what I see as the disenchantment of the world, the philosophical and literal stripping of all magic and wonder from the world, which I believe has paved the way for some of the more egregious abuses of nature in the 18th- 21st centuries. 

Ultimately, if we see nature as sacred, enchanted, and having a spirit of its own, it is much more likely that humans of all kinds will behave in ways of reverence and respect. I think a lot of authors and artists have done a great job in showing that the world has an enchanted side. 

Japanese Knotweed as Guardian of the Waterways

I think one of my own projects that most closely aligns with this goal is the Plant Spirit Oracle.  The goal of this deck was to take common medicinal plants and offer them in an enchanted and personified way.  I also paid special attention to plants that were maligned like Poison Ivy and Japanese Knotweed as part of this work. Thus, Japanese Knotweed, which is widely hated and maligned, is shown in an enchanted light as a guardian of the waterways; the catnip in your garden is shown to have spirit, poison ivy teaching awareness, and so on.  These plants have forms that can be viewed, interacted with, and offer guidance and wisdom. . 

Offering new visions of the future and personal empowerment

Wendell Berry’s Poem as a Woodburning–I made this at Samhain and in the spring, I will leave it as an offering in the forest, a reminder of the vision we can bring forth

A final aspect, and one that has a lot of potency for me right now, is thinking about how works of art of all kinds can shape the future. I’m sick of reading and thinking about things from a dystopian perspective and I’m sick of watching our world go further and further into those dystopian vision.  I’ve firmly committed to creating works of hope.  This was a clear vision for me for the Tarot of Trees– a response to deforestation. I wanted people who used the deck to value trees more, and I wanted a vision of a healed world to come forth. But there’s also a lot of future vision in these works: witch hazel, one of my favorite paintings in the PSO, is all about a pathway towards the future; about becoming a good ancestor. Comfey is about having the tools to bring positive change, while Rosemary reminds us of the powerful cycles and generations that we have to consider.  The messaging is there for those who look!

In another example, this one by one of my favorite writers, Wendell Berry, his poem, Work Song, Part II: A Vision is a prime example of a message that holds a vision of the future. When I first read this poem, I cried from the beauty of it, the vision Wendell Berry offered and thought about what we might need to get there.

Visioning a Brighter, Nature-centered Future

Providing alternative perspectives, enchantment, and visioning for the future is certainly a magical act and one that many people who practice the bardic arts might build into their work.  When you create something and put it out in the world, you have an opportunity to create so much more than just a piece of art–you have a chance to help build a vision of the world to come.  While simple visioning work is only part of the task before us, however, as Wendell Berry’s poem notes, it is an important part and something that each of us can do. 

Dear readers, I am very interested in hearing from you on this topic: Have you built visionary principles into your art? If so, please share.  If you haven’t yet but would like to, I’d love to hear from you as well!

 

The Problem is the Solution: Honoring the Journey of the New Year

Sunrise through the mist…the way may be uncertain but the sun will rise again

In Permaculture Design, one of the most challenging principles to enact is “The problem is the solution.” It seems simple on paper: you have a serious problem before you, perhaps seemingly insurmountable or overwhelming.  Instead of reacting negatively to the problem, you look for how the problem presents unique opportunities.  You resee your practices, hone them, make changes, and adapt to the problem so that that adaptation becomes a strength. In other words, you make lemonade from lemons–but more than that, you may actually improve your approach by having to consider new options to overcome obstacles.  A simple example: I have a wet, muddy spot in my yard due to the downspout on my house.  Rather than see this as a problem, I turn it into a lush rain garden, which is not only beautiful but also supports wildlife and pollinators.  The problem becomes an amazing solution.  I think that this principle may offer a great opportunity for us with the passing of 2020, and I wanted to reflect on that and share some thoughts today.

While the end of each year offers opportunities for change and growth, 2020 has been a year unlike any other for most of us. Regardless of where you are in the world, 2020 has created numerous challenges and problems. It has disrupted the normal patterns of life. Being an essential worker, losing your job or having job insecurity, fighting racism and oppression, feeling that your rights are being threatened by the government, being isolated from family and friends, having to deal with new family arrangements, losing loved ones, getting sick, being afraid of getting sick, political unrest–2020 has been incredibly difficult.  While all of us continue to experience different challenges and aspects, as 2021 comes, it is an opportunity for deep changes in our lives.

Here’s the important takeaway: because life has been so incredibly disrupted this is the perfect time to make radical changes in your life. Coming out of this, every one of us has a clean slate, a ticket to change. For perhaps the first time in any of our lives, you can be anything you want to be, make whatever changes you want to make, and emerge from this a new person. Why not take the opportunity for growth?

Planting the seeds of the future

Planting the seeds of the future

For me, 2020 has been utterly brutal, particularly in what was once one of the most stable aspects of my life: my work life. I feel like I’ve been in the muddy, dark, and cold trenches all year when it comes to employment or lack thereof. But those trenches certainly have given me a good opportunity to reflect, to grow, and to change.  This brutal situation has allowed me to look deeply into myself, to see what I value, who I am, and how I respond to the world.  It has allowed me also to question some things that I don’t have a resolution on yet, and perhaps, it’s ok to be in a place of “I don’t really know.” There’s power in that.  And it has allowed me to do some things for myself that I haven’t had a chance to do before.

My suggestion is to spend some time in meditation at the end of 2020 or the beginning of 2021.  Make some lists, and reflect on your journey.  Here are some questions that might be useful to you–they were certainly useful to me:

  • Think about what you miss from your life before 2020.
  • Think about the things you are grateful not to have to deal with in 2020.
  • Reflect on your own personal response to the many situations in 2020: How did you feel?  How did that challenge or deepen what you believe?  What do you most value, perhaps unexpectedly, through all of this? What are you unsure of?
  • What “shadow” aspects of yourself did you have to confront or what aspects gave you trouble?
  • What shadow aspects did you see in others, and how did you respond?
  • Who do you want to be? Envision your best life and your best self coming out of this.

Sunrise and hope!

Take the opportunity presented by the challenge of 2020 to rewrite your own story for 2021 and beyond.  Perhaps set some clear principles for yourself for the coming year, things you want to focus on, maintain or achieve.  Put these principles somewhere you can easily see them and be reminded of what you have accomplished through this experience.

I see this kind of spiritual work as the antithesis to the typical New Year’s Resolution.  Here in the US, the New Year’s Resolution is this cliche thing where everyone makes the resolution but nobody actually keeps them.  Within a week or two of the New Year, most resolutions fade away and life as usual continues.  The end of 2020 is not a time for empty resolutions but deep and lasting change.  We’ve all had some serious disruption.  Let’s make lemons from lemonade.

So who are you going to be, moving forward?  What spiritual work might you need to do in order to get there?  I’d love to hear you share.

Herbal Grief Ritual for Healing of the Soul

2020 has been challenging for nearly everyone in a multitude of ways.  One of the things that we are faced with right now is grief: grief over lost friends and family who have passed, grief over a previous way of life that seems to be gone for good, grief over lost careers and uncertain futures, grief over continued suffering and uncertainty with regards to our climate and life on this planet.  I have certainly been experiencing many of these things.  Perhaps the two most central things that happened to me this summer was the loss of a good friend after a long and difficult battle with cancer and the destruction of a large part of our family’s property to put in a septic line.  The loss of many trees that I had grown up with and a beautiful ecosystem that we had cultivated into a botanical sanctuary.  These losses happened within a few weeks of each other, and they both weighed heavily on me, prompting me to work with the plants for healing and strength.

Grief is part of the letting go process.  I think it’s important that, when faced with any kind of serious loss, we take the time to honor that loss, acknowledge our feelings, and work to heal.  If we bury the loss within us and don’t take the necessary time to heal, it becomes like a weight holding us down and back, surfacing again and again until we are ready to deal with our feelings.  Engaging in rituals to help with grief and healing is a powerful tool. This ritual, working with rosemary, sage, and thyme, is meant to help ease the spirit and begin or continue the grieving process.  Perhaps you are grieving a specific person or thing, or perhaps it is simply time to let go of your grief surrounding the broader challenges we face or some spiritual work you are called to do (such as psychopomp work or palliative care for the land).

Rosemary from the Plant Spirit Oracle

Rosemary from the Plant Spirit Oracle (www.plantspiritoracle.com)

For this ritual, I’ve drawn upon three longstanding plant allies, plants that nearly everyone has had direct interaction with (even just in the food that they eat); gentle and powerful plants that can provide us healing.   Rosemary is a plant tied to remembrance, a plant tied to memory and things of the past.  Rosemary is also a potent plant spirit ally reminding us to hold in our hearts those things that are no longer with us but to live in the present and look towards the future. Sage is a plant with enormous spiritual power, for this ritual we are drawing upon sage’s ability to help us with grounding, clearing, and cleansing.  You can use any kind of sage you want for this (garden sage, cleary sage, white sage) as all will work equally well. Thyme is another powerful plant ally that helps us hold space for our grief, remind us to make time (thyme!) for our grief, work through our feelings, and come to a place of acceptance.

Preliminaries

Materials:  For this ritual, you will need a sachet of herbs:  sage, rosemary and thyme.  If you have fresh or dried herbs from a garden or farmer’s market, just tie them together with a string before the ritual begins.  If you have crushed culinary herbs from the supermarket instead of a sachet, you should also prepare three strips of paper.  On each sheet write the name of one of the three plants.

You will also need a pair of scissors and a large bowl.

Setting: Ideally, this ritual takes place in a large bathtub. If you don’t have access to a bathtub, you can use a basin, place the herbs in the basin, and use a sponge to sponge yourself off while sitting in the shower or sitting in a natural setting.  Regardless of what setting you use, make sure you will be undisturbed for the duration of the ritual.

You can also set the stage for this ritual any way you like.  Candles and incense will help set the mood for a nice bath.  You might choose to have objects or photos of those that you are grieving setup somewhere nearby.

 

The Grief Ritual

Draw your bath or fill your basin, light your candles, and set the stage for your ritual.  Add your herbal sachet to the hot tub.  As you add it, step into the bath and begin chanting, “sage, rosemary, and thyme, aid me in my grief.”  As you chant, just be with your grief.  Acknowledge and honor the feelings you are having, and let yourself experience them fully without hesitation or reservation.

When you feel ready, call to each of the three healing herbs.  You can use your own words for them, themed after the bullet points above, or you can use the words that follow. For each of these, as you speak, feel the words coming from your mind, body, and spirit.

  • Rosemary. “Rosemary, aid me in holding my loved one(s) in my memory.  What is remembered, lives.”  Speak of your loved one or that which you grieve about, and feel rosemary listening to what you share. After speaking aloud, feel the energy of the rosemary offering you gentle and kind memory of that which has been lost.
  • Sage: “Sage, aid me with cleansing and grounding. With your healing energy, let my heart be brightened and made less heavy.” After speaking it aloud, feel the energy of the sage offering you grounding and peace.
  • Thyme.  “Thyme heals all wounds.  Sacred thyme, lend me the strength to accept my grief process, to feel my way through the grief, and know that time will heal.”  After speaking aloud, feel the energy of the thyme offering you a passage forward, where time heals all wounds.

After calling to the three herbs, simply be in a place of quietude for a while, letting the herbs work their magic of heart, mind, body, and spirit.  Soak in your tub, feel that healing is happening both within and without.

When you feel like the work is complete (or your bath is getting cold), fill the bowl with some of your bathwater.  Take the sachet and cut the sachet open, placing all of the herbs in the bowl.  Close your eyes and swirl the herbs around the bowl.  When you feel ready, draw one of the sprigs from the bowl.  (If you are using small dried, crushed herbs, instead here, place your three pieces of paper before you in the bowl, close your eyes, and draw one).

The herb that you draw is a message for you to help you move through your grief.

Sage: Focus on your spiritual self-care, engaging in regular practices such as meditation, grounding, spending time in nature, and daily spiritual practices.  Use a sage smoke cleansing stick or a sage incense regularly as part of your spiritual practices. This will be the best path through your grief.

Rosemary: Do work that honors the memory of those that are lost in any way you feel led.  This might be creating a small memorial altar, planting trees in your lost one’s honor, engaging in creative work, or any other way you feel led to honor those that have passed. This will assist you through your grief.  Bring rosemary into your life often through cooking, a potted plant, and more.

Smoke clearing sticks to assist in your grief

Smoke clearing sticks to assist in your grief

Thyme: Embracing the process of grief, being kind to yourself as you work through your feelings.  Create space just to feel and to be as time passes. Allowing yourself time to heal and come to a place of acceptance.  This message is that there is no rushing the process, and giving yourself time to work through it is best.  This herb may also signal the need to reach out to others to talk through how you feel.

When you are finished, thank the spirits of the sacred plants for their assistance.  Close your space by exiting the bath and blowing out the candles.

Drought workings: A Druid’s Perspective on Drought and Dry Weather

2020 is certainly a year to remember for many of us in the human realm.  Here in Western Pennsylvania and up along many parts of New England, we’ve had an additional serious problem affecting the natural world—an extreme drought. This summer, the jet stream is way off of its normal course and so most of the major storms that would typically hit us have been forced south of us, creating the  “moderate” drought that we are now in and causing uncharacteristically dry conditions.  know there are other serious droughts around the world, such as the three-year drought currently happening in Germany.  Climate change is making these kinds of weather events all the more common and teaching us powerful lessons along the way.  In today’s post, I’ll share some drought lessons, drought land healing, and ways of working and honoring water.

Honoring Water and the Scarcity of Water

Altar for water healing

Altar for water healing

I think for people who live in areas that are usually abundant in water, it’s not something that is often at the forefront of your mind.  For example,  here we get about 40″ of rain a year and another 30″ of snow, and have precipitation an average of 140 days a year–so precipitation is a regular event that happens at least once a week, if not more.  I must say, before this year, I was guilty of this–water was just always present.  We had almost no need to water the garden, we would just wait for the inevitable rains to come.  I realize that this perspective must be hard to imagine for people who live in desert climates or other low-rain areas, but for people who live in areas like I do, I think it is quite common.

But a drought lets you reframe your relationship to water because it becomes scarce.  In modern cultures where we can literally buy our way into anything, we have been socialized to see scarcity as a bad thing.  Yet, time and time again, I have found that the lesson of scarcity is important to both cultivating both more connected and sacred relationships and in gratitude practices. Scarcity is a lesson that nature provides through each yearly cycle. Scarce things are sacred things; something that is scarce becomes more valuable and meaningful.  Any mushroom hunter knows this–if you hunt all season for the elusive hen of the woods (maitake) mushroom, and you find only one, it is truly sacred.  You may harvest it or not, but certainly, you would be thankful for the experience.  Perhaps you’d craft a sacred meal and enjoy it with friends. But if you find them all over, they become more common.  For us in a water-rich climate, water and precipitation was so common that you really didn’t think about it.  And then, the drought came. Scarcity came.  And you realized how sacred water really was.

The drought has been a really good opportunity to reframe my relationship with water and honor all water as sacred, both in mundane ways and in ritual ways. Here’s an example.  Our geese have a big plastic swimming pool (our pond is away from the house and is home to snapping turtles and other wildlife, so we opted for this closer pool).  We have the swimming pool out in our front yard where we can easily fill it with the hose and where the geese hang out.  At the beginning of the summer, I used to “bail” the pool–I had a large bucket and would keep bailing water out of the pool and dumping it on the ground until the pool was empty.  The water would just spread all over the lawn and be absorbed. I didn’t think about it much, just checking off one more homestead chore to do before moving on to others.  But as our rainless days stretched into rainless weeks and then into rainless months, the dirty water in the goose pool became sacred. That water became the most precious resource on this drought-stricken land: we could use it to conserve our water supply (we have a spring and cistern), a way to help the many plants in this drying up the landscape, and a way to honor every drop.

I would instead move the water into our wheelbarrow and wheel it around the property–into the gardens, into the perennial beds, into the edges of the woods, into the milkweed patch I was trying to cultivate.  Every two days, I hauled water and prayed for rain.  It became a kind of ritual in itself–offering what I could to this parched landscape, honoring the water, and singing for the rain.  When we “dump” water on the ground, we are literally disposing of it and in that disposal mindset.  If we instead offer water, honor water by pouring it with intention, returning it to the earth, and sending it on its journey back into the hydrologic cycle–this is where your own relationship sifts.

Other small amounts of water, too, became sacred.  The water leftover in our big pressure canner became something to provide the forest plants with relief.  Each drop mattered.  I’ve been thinking about our bathtub upstairs and how to rig a greywater system.  This drought prompted a new connection with water and an opportunity to engage in sacred action through our everyday lives.

Land Healing Practices During the Drought

A healed and restored river (the Clarion!)

The Clarion River

Because land healing is an important part of the spiritual work we can do as nature-based spiritual practitioners and druids, I decided to work to address the drought spiritually. Within land healing, as I’ve outlined before, different kinds of practices exist depending on the situation at hand: energetic healing and palliative care.  It is important to know what you are attempting to do if you are going to be engaging in land healing work.  With regards to a drought, energetic healing is for lands that are damaged but in a place to heal (e.g. the drought has ended and now the land can heal–this is a good time to raise energy for healing). But for a drought-stricken landscape in the middle of a drought, palliative care is most appropriate: in this case, we would work with the spirits fo the land to minimize the worst of the pain and offer hope that rains will return.

The Water Grove of Renewal

If you are living in an area that is experiencing a drought, here is one palliative care technique that you can use to provide some relief.  This is a play on my “grove of renewal” practice that I shared some time ago. For this, choose a small section of land that you have easy access to or that you own, or even a potted plant on a windowsill.  For my water grove of renewal this summer, I had recently planted ramp roots in a small patch of forest.  These were saved from the path of destruction at my family property.  You should select if at all possible, an area that normally would not get watered intentionally by you (e.g. not your garden).  Mark the space in some way (with flags, stones, sticks, etc.) so that you give it some kind of sacred boundary so that you know where to water.  My water grove of renewal had a natural boundary; a small clearing in the forest surrounded by trees, about 3′ across.

This is the place that you will keep watered as a sign of hope and solidarity to the rest of the landscape.  Every few days, bring an offering of water and water the earth.  As I leave the offering, I say a small prayer that I wrote for the grove

Parched earth, dry soil, cracked clay.
Know that the rains will come.
Withered roots dried vines, drooping leaves
Know that the rains will come.
I leave this offering of water here as a sign of hope.
Know that the rains will come.
As this small grove of renewal radiates outward.
Know that the rains will come.
Endure for a little while longer.
The rains will come.
The rains will come.
The rains will come.

Do any other kind of sacred work here as you see fit: I brought my drum and flute and offered some music. I also offered my sacred offering blend.  Spend time in this grove and remember–the rains will come.

Honring the watershed

The Stone Cairn in the Stream

The Stone Cairn in the Stream

During a drought, it is a good time to learn about and honor the watershed that you live in.  There are many ways to engage in this practice, so I’ll share a few of them.  The first thing you should do is learn about your watershed–what watershed do you live in? If you are in the USA, you can use this tool produced by the EPA.  Once you learn your watershed, you can honor the tributaries, visit the headwaters (where the watershed begins) or visit a major river of your watershed.  For me, our homestead is along the Twolick Creek/Blacklick Watershed, a minor tributary of the Conemaugh watershed, which is part of the Ohio watershed.  I have worked during this drought to visit several spots along the watershed and do the following:

  • Water blessing and healing rituals (some of which are offered here).
  • Simply sitting and interacting with the waterway, which could include meditation or conversing with the spirit of the waters or watershed
  • Making offerings of music, healing waters, or herbal blends
  • Spending time in recreation at waterways, such as hiking or kayaking (provided the water levels are high enough).

Honoring the waterways is a fantastic way to attune to water, anytime, but especially during a drought.

Rain Workings

A final thing you may be tempted to try is rain magic or rain workings.  These things can be done, and with great effect, but also, at great risk.  I outlined one such rain working in an earlier post which you can try.  Even something simple, like using a rain stick, calling to the sylphs and undines to bring rain, or making offerings can help.  Rain magic and rain workings are a bit beyond this post, but I’ll pick them up at a later point in more depth!

And the rains come…

And, as things often happen, while I was composing we had temperatures in the 90’s and no rain for over two months.  As I got ready to post this–the rains came. Two beautiful days of storms and gentle rains, courtesy of Hurricane Laura coming through our region.  While two days of rain will not end the drought, it certainly gives much relief to this parched landscape.  The rains will come.

When the rains came over the last two days, I saw it as an event worthy of sacred practice, of ritual action, and of celebration.  I went out into the rain to dance, sing, and be merry.  I stripped most of my clothes and ran through the wet and dripping landscape, allowing the rain to soothe me.  I laid upon the earth and allowed my body to soak up the rains, just like the earth around me.  I felt refreshed and renewed after so many long months of trying to keep everything alive.  I rested in the gentle arms of that blissful rain.

Regardless of what happens in the future, I am in gratitude for the experience that was the drought of 2020–that I could more mindfully honor the waters of life, the waters that sustain us, and that water now holds a deeper and more central place in my practice.  And I understand, more than ever, why my ancestors tied their spiritual practices and lives to the seasons: to honoring the harvest, calling the rains, and bringing abundance and life to the land.  This is a lesson too easy to discount in the 21st century–but yet, the drought brought it to the fore.

PS: I also wanted to share a few updates on publications and the like!  I finished going through the page proofs of Sacred Actions: Living the Wheel of the Year through Sustainable Practices.  It should be released sometime in 2021–as soon as I’m able to share more details here, I will!   I also was able to finalize the layout on the updated Tarot of Trees: Artwork and Meanings book.  The 10th-anniversary edition should be available for release sometime in October (we are waiting on the printer to ship everything now).  Thanks for your patience while I took this hiatus from the blog!   If you have topics you’d like to see for the rest of 2020, please reach out!

Rituals and Prayers for Peace

Peace is a fundamental part of the druid tradition. The ancient druids had roles as peacemakers and justices, and today, many druids find themselves in a position of promoting and fighting for justice and peace.  A lot of this work is happening right now: working towards for the equal rights and treatment of black, brown, and indigenous people; fighting on the front lines of the pandemic as a medical worker or essential personnel; or and trying to work for inner peace in these challenging times, just to name a few.  Given what is happening at present, it seems like a very good time to start, reaffirm, or deepen a spiritual practice that focuses on spreading peace. Thus, in this post, I’ll share a peace meditation, peace prayers, and peace rituals that you might use as part of your practice. I also think that the more of us that do the work of peace in our spiritual lives, the more peace we can spread throughout the world at this very critical time when it is so needed.

Meditations on Peace

Peace

Mediations on peace can be an excellent first step in starting or re-affirming a peace practice as part of your spiritual work. I find two kinds of meditations that are particularly useful for this: discursive and energy visualization.

Discursive meditation allows us to work through difficult concepts and come to deep understandings. Meditating on the definition of peace–what it looks like, what it entails, and what it would take to bring that peace into the world can be highly productive.  You might explore peace from multiple angles:

  • Definitions: what is peace to you? How do you define it?  What features does it have?  How might this definition align with or deviate from other perspectives?
  • Peace within:  What does peace within look like? how might you foster peace within? What are the concrete steps you can take?
  • Peace at home: What would peace look like in your own life and in your immediate family? How can you foster peace at home?
  • Peace in your community: What might peace look like in your broader community? In your country? In the world?  How can we foster peaceful interactions in our communities, especially among diverse groups?
  • Peace between humans and the land: What would peaceful interactions look like within your landscape? How can we foster peaceful interactions between human and non-human life?  How can we be at peace with nature? How can we achieve balance?

This set of meditations can take some time, but it is certainly worth work doing.  I recently worked through this list, doing five distinct meditations for each of the bullet points above.  This helped me affirm my commitment to this work, both within and without.

Envisioning and visualizing peace is a second meditation technique, this one with an outward focus.  For this meditation, you might focus on one of the above spheres (e.g. peace within, peace in your immediate surrounding, peace in your local community, peace in your country, peace in the world, peace among humans, and non-human life).  The alternative is just to focus on peace broadly and let the energy go where it is needed.

Towering White Pine, Parker Dam State Park, PA

The white pine, the tree of peace here in North America

Begin this meditation by sitting quietly and focusing on peace within.  Pay attention to your breath (using breathing techniques, like the fourfold breath or color breathing, both described in the Druidry Handbook by John Micheal Greer).  Recognize that this initial step can take some time–both in terms of an individual meditation session or a number of sessions.  For me, peace within means a quiet mind where I am able to slow racing thoughts, anxiety, or any other stressors and just be in the present moment.  I breathe through this for a while and then continue.

The second part of the meditation is simply sending some of that peace out into the world, directing it to whatever sphere you see fit (a caveat here–keep your direction of peace broad and unspecific.  Let spirit work with your intention as is best.)  You can envision peace in the four quarters of the world, for example, or envision specific scenes that would promote peace over violence (use some of your meditations from the first meditation activity).  I think this should be fairly intuitive–the more you practice, the more you will be able to send peace.

Prayers for Peace

Prayers for peace are also a wonderful way to begin, continue, or deepen a peace practice. Within druidry, both of the most common prayers invoke peace, justice, or both:

The Druid’s Prayer for Peace

Deep within the still center of my being, may I find peace
Quietly within this grove, may I share peace
Gently within the greater circle of [humanity / all life] may I radiate peace.

The Druid’s Prayer (Gorsedd Prayer)

There are actually a few different versions of the Druid’s (Gorsedd) Prayer.  For peace prayers, I prefer this version, which Iolo Morganwg attributes to the Book of Trahaiarn the Great Poet

Grant, oh spirit, Thy protection;
And in protection, reason;
And in reason, light;
And in light, truth;
And in truth, justice;
And in justice, love;
And in love, the love of spirit,
And in the love of spirit, the love of all existences

Peace Within: A Daily Peace Ritual

In druid rituals stemming from the druid revival, we often begin by declaring peace in the quarters (either going around the circle starting in the east (AODA style), or crossing the circle (e.g. going from north to south and east to west, OBOD Style). I have found that in this time, affirming peace in the four quarters, as well as within, has been a very useful daily practice and have developed the following ritual for peace.  I’ll first share how I do it, and then share the general model that you can adapt.

Grandmother Beach asks for peace

Each morning, I go out to care for our homestead flocks (our chickens, guineas, ducks, and geese). This is part of my morning ritual–and after I’m done letting everyone out of their coops, filling up water buckets and food troughs, I make sure I pause, take in the day, and declare peace. I just stand in the yard and spend a moment meditating on each direction (I start in the east since that is where the sun is rising).  I observe the east, seeing birds, watching the sun through the clouds, and paying attention to the air.  Then I say “May there be peace in the east.”  I do the same thing at each of the remaining three directions.

Finally, I focus on my own person and put my hands on my heart and say the Druid’s Prayer for Peace.   This is my adaptation from the OBOD’s Prayer for Peace.  I’ve adapted OBOD’s prayer to expand to all life, not just human life. And so I say:

Deep within the still center of my being, may I find peace.
Quietly, within the circle of this grove, may I share peace.
Gently within the circle of all life, may I radiate peace.

I then intone three ogham for peace, Koad (Grove); ifin (Pine), and Eastern Hemlock (Onn).  The first ogham is the grove ogham, representing the grove of trees coming together to resolve disputes and come to peace.  Thes second is pine, which has been a symbol of peace in North America for millennia, and I honor the peace of the ancestors of the land hereby intoning it.  The third is Gorse, which represents hope, potential, and the possibility for change.

This simple daily ritual helps me not only radiate peace and embrace life in the broader world but send a little bit of that peaceful energy out.  It also helps me get off on the right foot during this challenging time.  Here’s the ritual in a condensed form that you can use:

Druid’s Daily Peace Ritual

Face the east and quiet your mind.  Visualize peace in the east.  Say “May there be peace in the east.”  Do the same with the other three directions: south, west, and north.

Place your hands on your heart and say the Druid’s prayer for peace.

Deep within the still center of my being, may I find peace.
Quietly, within the circle of this grove, may I share peace.
Gently within the circle of all life, may I radiate peace.

Intone the three ogham three times each. As you do, envision peace radiating outward:
KO-ud
EE-van
OR

Cross your arms and say, “I thank the spirits for peace, justice, and blessings.”

Honoring the Peacemakers

A final thing that I do to envision peace is to honor the ancestors of the druid tradition.  The ancient druids were considered wise people who were justices, diplomats, and peacemakers among their people. This is an idea to which I can try to strive.  Meditation on this concept regularly along with some ancestor-of-tradition work can support this practice.

You might consider honoring other ancestors of peace in your practice, those peacemakers of the past whose work in the world is useful to remember.  Dr. Martin Luther King, James Farmer, or others who have fought for racial peace might be good focuses right now.

The Work of Peace

The work of peace is not easy, but extremely necessary to create a more equal, just, and welcoming society for all. I hope these simple practices support you during this very challenging time and offer you some additional tools in the work of peace in the world.

Finding Balance at the Spring Equinox: A Sun Ritual Using the Three Druid Elements

The Spring Equinox, Alban Eiler, is the time when the light and the dark in the world are in balance. The timing of the Equinox is fortuitous–this time of balance–after such turmoil in the world. Here in the last two weeks here in the US, we’ve been on a whirlwind of change where nearly every person’s life has been radically disrupted and changed due to the global pandemic. Given the circumstances of where we are, today, I’d like to offer a balancing ritual for Spring Equinox that you can do personally to help bring balance into your life.  (I’m posting this a few days early from my usual weekly post so that you have it in time for the Equinox!)

 

Preliminaries

A representation of the 3 druid elements

A representation of the 3 druid elements

This ritual uses the three druid elements: Gywar, Calas, and Nyfre, drawn from the druid revival for the ritual. These three terms, deriving from old Welsh, represent three principles in the universe.  I think they are particularly useful for a spring equinox balancing ritual.

 

Nwyfre (NOO-iv-ruh) literally translates as “sky” or “heaven” and refers to the life force or vital energy that is in each of us.  Nywfre is the spark of life, that which separates an inanimate thing from an animate being.

 

Gwyar (GOO-yar) literally translates as “blood”, and refers to the concept of flow, flexibility, fluidity, motion, and general change. This is the element that acts like water, flowing around obstacles rather than hitting up against them.

 

Calas (CAH-lass) is tied to the old Welsh word “Caled” and literally translates as “hard”.  This is the element of solidity, stability, and grounding.

 

What’s interesting is that to truly have balance, we can’t just focus on Calas (grounding), which might be the first thing that would come to mind.  A situation as unstable as what is before us requires us to balance the three elements together: we do need Calas to help us be stable and rooted, but we also need a great deal of Gwyar, as the situation is evolving rapidly and nobody knows what is next.  Nwyfre is life itself–and embracing life during this challenging time focuses our energy not on the chaos and fear of death but on the energies of life, thus bringing us into greater harmony.

 

This ritual also uses three prayers (two from the druid tradition and one I wrote) and uses the chanting of another welsh term, Awen.  For more on Awen, see this post.

 

The following ritual would ideally be done in three parts: as the sun rises, at mid-day, and as the sun sets (this is the first version of the ritual I present). The second variant of the ritual still uses the energy of the sunrise, noonday, and sunset times of the sun, but in a metaphorical sense. Thus, I will offer two variants of the ritual.

 

The Ritual: Balancing of Gwyar, Calas, and Nyfre: A Three-Part Sunrise – Noonday and Sunset Ritual

The solar current rising at sunrise

Sunrise

Select a sacred place that you can return to at three points in the day: sunrise (or early morning), noon, and sunset.  Ideally, this should be a place that you can open up a sacred grove in, leave, and return to throughout the day and one where nobody else will disturb for the day (e.g. a spot outside or a spare bedroom). If you would like, you can set up an altar in this spot.

 

For this ritual, you should also have an offering for the land and her spirits. See this post for more on offerings. In terms of your offering, I think what you do, and how you offer, are very personal things. Offerings should be personal and tied to those spirits/deities/powers/lands/places you work with.

 

Sunrise:

Either in the early morning or just as the light is beginning to come into the world, go to your sacred space.

 

Open up a sacred grove in your tradition. For this, I suggest using whatever grove / sacred space opening you have in your tradition or using the AODA’s Solitary Grove Opening. If you do not have a dedicated spot for the three stages of ritual, I instead suggest doing the AODA’s Sphere of Protection ritual around yourself to start the ritual.

 

Make your offering in your own words. Leave your offering in your space.

 

As the sun is beginning to rise (or observing the rising sun), say, “Sunrise is a time when the sun rises from the earth.  The promise of the day is before us.  The balance between light and dark is here.  We enter the light half of the year, full of promise and possibility.”

 

Pause, continuing to observe the sun. Then say, “As the sun rises with possibility, I call upon this moment to provide me fluidity, flexibility, and the ability to adapt to a radically changing world. I now intone the ancient word for flow: “Gywar (GOO-yar), Gywar, Gwyar.” (Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

Stand facing the sun, and feel its rays upon your skin. Observe how the light continues to change as the sun rises. Feel the possibility of this moment. Pay attention to how the winds flow upon the land, and how the land awakens. Spend some time in mediation as the sun rises, drawing upon the fluidity and flexibility of this moment.

 

Say a Prayer of Flow (By Dana O’Driscoll):

Let me be like the waters,
Let me move like the sea,
Let me flow with the currents,
Let my spirit be free

Let me fly like an eagle
Let me buzz like a bee
Let me swim like an otter
Let my spirit be free

When the world is crushing
And I am unable to see
Let me flow like the river,
Let the awen flow in me!

 

When you are finished, leave the sacred space and go about your day until the mid-day sun.

 

Noon:

Enter your sacred space. Take a few moments to come back into your ritual mindset through deep breathing and quieting your mind.

 

Say, “Noon-day is when the power of the sun is at its zenith. This is when the sun’s rays offer life and vitality to all.  As the sun is at its height, I call upon this moment to provide me vitality, strength, and energy.  I now intone the ancient word for the lifeforce, “Nwyfre (NOO-iv-ruh), Nywfre, Nywfre.”

 

At this point, spend some moments in the light of the sun.  Soak in the sun’s vital rays, and observe the leaves and plant life upon the landscape and their interaction with the sun.  You might feel led to do some movement meditation, dance, or another vitalizing movement at this time.  when you feel the work is complete,  say the Druid’s Prayer:

 

Grant, O Spirits, your protection
And in protection, strength
And in strength, understanding
And in understanding, knowledge
And in knowledge, the knowledge of justice
And in the knowledge of justice, the love of it
And in the love of it, the love of all existences
And in the love of all existences, the love of earth our mother and all Goodness.

 

Chant three Awens (Ahh-oh-en) <As you chant the Awens, feel this vitalizing force settle deeply within you.>

 

Leave the sacred space until sunset.

 

Sunset: Arrive just as the sun is setting, where it is just beginning to touch the edge of the horizon.

 

Say, “Sunset is a time when the sun meets the earth.  As the sun enter’s the earth’s embrace, I call upon this moment to provide me grounding, stability, and peace.  I now intone the ancient word for grounding: Calas (CAY-lass), Calas, Calas.”(Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

At this point, if you can, lay or sit upon the ground.  Feel the solidity of the ground beneath your feet.  Feel the deepening darkness on the landscape.  Spend some time in meditation as the darkness comes.  As the darkness comes, feel the womb of the earth supporting you, grounding you, and providing you peace.

 

When you are finished with your meditation, say the Druid’s Peace Prayer (this is my own variant):

 

“Deep within the still center of my being may I find peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within you>

“Quietly, within the circle of this grove, may I share peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within this space>

“Gently within the circle of all life, may I radiate peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace emanating from you outward.”

 

Close your sacred space (using your own tradition or using the AODA’s solitary grove closing ritual).

Single Moment Variant

Sunset

The above ritual uses three moments in time to call upon the druid elements and uses druid prayer (mostly traditional, one new one) to help connect to those energies.  I suggest removing the first two druids prayers, finishing instead with just the Druid’s Peace Prayer, and using visualization techniques for each of the moments where you would otherwise be in the sun. I also suggest using a drum, bell or another instrument to shift between the three points of the sun’s path across the sky.

 

Here is the adapted ritual.

 

Open up your sacred space and make your offering.  For this, I suggest using whatever grove / sacred space opening you have in your tradition or using the AODA’s Solitary Grove Opening.

 

Make your offering in your own words.

 

Say: “Sunrise is a time when the sun rises from the earth.  The promise of the day is before us.  The balance between light and dark is here.  We enter the light half of the year, full of promise and possibility.”

 

“As the sun rises with possibility, I call upon this moment to provide me fluidity, flexibility, and the ability to adapt to a radically changing world.  I now intone the ancient word for flow: “Gywar (GOO-yar), Gywar, Gwyar.” (Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

Envision the most beautiful sunrise you have ever seen. Feel the possibility and anticipation of the sun at the start of the new day.  Bring this possibility, flow, and energy into your life.

 

Pause, play a few notes on your instrument, ring a bell or singing bowl.  When you are ready to proceed:

 

Say, “Noon-day is when the power of the sun is at its zenith. This is when the sun’s rays offer life and vitality to all.  As the sun is at its height, I call upon this moment to provide me vitality, strength, and energy.  I now intone the ancient word for the lifeforce, “Nwyfre (NOO-iv-ruh), Nywfre, Nywfre.”

 

At this point, envision the sun at its highest point on a warm summer day.  Envision yourself soaking in the sun’s vital rays. You might feel led to do some movement meditation, dance, or another vitalizing movement at this time.

 

Pause, play again a few notes on your instrument, ring a bell, or use a singing bowl.  When you are ready to proceed:

 

Say, “Sunset is a time when the sun meets the earth.  As the sun enter’s the earth’s embrace, I call upon this moment to provide me grounding, stability, and peace.  I now intone the ancient word for grounding: Calas (CAY-lass), Calas, Calas.”(Chant this as much as you feel led).

 

At this point, if you can, lay or sit upon the ground.  Feel the solidity of the ground beneath your feet.  Envision a beautiful sunset, the most beautiful sunset you have ever seen, in your mind’s eye.  Envision that sun setting, and feel the deepening darkness on the landscape.  Feel the womb of the earth supporting you, grounding you, and providing you peace.

 

When you are finished with your meditation, say the Druid’s Peace Prayer (this is my own variant):

 

“Deep within the still center of my being may I find peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within you>

“Quietly, within the circle of this grove, may I share peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace within this space>

“Gently within the circle of all life, may I radiate peace.” <Pause, feeling the peace emanating from you outward.”

 

Close your sacred space (using your own tradition or using the AODA’s solitary grove closing ritual)

Land Healing: Ritual for Putting the Land to Sleep

As I shared a few weeks ago in my land healing framework post, the forest that I grew up in is having a big chunk cut out of it to make way for a septic line, a 40-60′ cut that will go for acres and acres.  It’s coming directly through the refugia garden that my parents and I have worked for years to tend and cultivate, where the ramps, wild ginseng, bloodroot, hardwood nut trees, and so many others grow.  My very favorite hawthorn tree, a tree that grew up with me and now stands tall will likely be removed by the line. The situation is extremely heartbreaking to me and my family–we have done everything we can to fight and try to get them to use the roadways or non-wooded areas to put in the line, but the condemnation papers have arrived, even the lawyers says it can’t be stopped, and the loggers come in the spring. There has been serious talk among the family of us chaining ourselves to the big cherry tree that grows in the middle of the land.  But even if we were to do that, they would come to remove us anyways, throw us in jail, and the land would still be cut.

 

 

Our beautiful land that will be destroyed

This isn’t the first time I’ve found myself in a place of powerlessness on the physical plane, knowing or watching something that I loved to be cut down or destroyed. I am certain that you, dear reader, have found yourself at times in a similar circumstance: watching a tree being cut, knowing that land will be logged or removed for some new development and so on. I think its one of the hardest positions to be in because you feel very powerless, and even if you’ve fought (like we have) there’s nothing to be done to stop it from happening.

 

But,there are things that you can do energetically to help the land, or a tree, or whatever else is in death’s path. It depends on the timing: if you are able to be present when something is being cut down/destroyed/murdered, I recommend the techniques in this post (witnessing, apology, holding space) and this post (helping tree spirits pass). Today’s post will focus on what to do before it happens. For our situation, we have a few months before they begin–the township said the project would start in April or May, so there is time to do something.

 

The ritual and techniques that I’m sharing today were learned under a similar circumstance.  When I lived in Michigan, the  line 6B tar sands oil pipeline was coming through the land and destroying land where I lived, including at Strawbale Studio, where I took a lot of classes on natural building. Like our present situation, there was advanced notice, and so, I sat with the spirits of the land and asked them exactly what they wanted. They gave me the message of putting the land to sleep and numbness, a way of reducing the pain and distancing them from what would happen. The strategies and ceremonies I present today have been refined since that time, but all work on the same basic principle–helping soothe the pain, deal with the sorrow, and letting the land know that you are present to be part of that work.

 

Goals and General Methods

I’m going to first explain the energetic portion of this ritual and goals, with the understanding that you can then put the ritual itself into many different frameworks. Below, I share the method that I am using on our family land as a specific example.

 

In a healthy forest or another healthy ecosystem, there is a lot of energy present–both physical and metaphysical. These places feel good, vibrant, and alive. A mature tree in its prime is another such kind of being–they are awake, alive, and aware.  You can imagine, then, what a place like this would experience when the chainsaw and bulldozers come. The ultimate goal of this ritual is to help that land/tree/being is to put it into a deep sleep before the impending disaster strikes–essentially reducing the energetic vibration and soothing the pain of what will come. Other goals for the ritual include communicating what will happen and why it is happening, offer an apology for what is happening, and make a physical offering in solidarity. Methods vary widely to how you might accomplish this–but I’ll now share mine.

 

Larger sleep sigil with smaller woodburned hickory nut sigils for planting

Another piece of the work I’ve outlined below is the use of a sigil. The sigil will active to help reinforce the energy present from the ritual when the actual loggers/destroyers show up. In a nutshell (and explained in an upcoming post), I created a set of land healing sigils for all kinds of healing work within the framework.  One of these sigils, the sleep sigil pictured here, is specifically used as part of this work. The sleep sigil helps continue the work of this ritual.  It can be used on its own or in conjunction with other practices.  There are lots of ways you could use such a ritual as part of sigil work: leaving a sleep sigil somewhere quietly to help the land go to sleep.  My method is a little different–I’m doing the initial ritual in advance, but I’m building a sleep sigil that will stay on the land, right where they loggers will come through.  When they bring their heavy machines in, they will invariably run over the sleep sigil, activating it and pushing that final deep sleep energy into the land.

 

You can do the following ceremony either at a distance or physically on the land.  If you have to do it at a distance, you should do your best to get an object that is from the land (a stone, stick, etc) or else get something that strongly connects you to the land.  The absolute best is to be present at the land, but that’s not always possible.  If you are at the land or tree, you can do the ritual below.  If you are doing distance work, you should put the proxy object in the center of your space and build your ritual space around it.

 

The timing of this ritual also may matter. I suggest doing this ritual some days or weeks before the destruction will occur.  A few weeks is a good time frame; that gives the land or tree time to attune to the lowered energy level and get deeply into a deep sleep.  After it is done you can visit the land, but I suggest not doing any energy work to raise energy or awaken the land after you’ve put it to rest.  Be present, but allow it to rest.  Feel this out.

 

The Sleep Ritual

Materials: 

  • Representations of the elements or other materials for opening sacred space in your tradition
  • An offering to give to the land. See this post for one offering blend. Offerings can be many things including music and dance, herbs, baked goods, etc.
  • Some way of hearing the voice of the land.  You can use spirit communication and/or divination techniques (such as tarot, pendulum, etc).
  • Materials to construct or draw your sleep sigil in the earth or materials for marking your sleep sigil in some way.
  • If at a distance: a representative of the land; paper and pen for drawing the sigil
  • A drum, rattle, or another instrument that can connect you with the heartbeat of the land.

 

Begin the ritual by opening up a sacred space.  I generally use AODA’s Solitary Grove Ritual for this purpose (found in the Druidry Handbook and other places), which includes declaring intentions for the ceremony, declaring peace in the quarters, the druid’s prayer, blessing the four directions with the elements, and then calling in the elements to create a sphere of protection around the space.

 

Spend time connecting to the heartbeat of the land/tree. After you open the space, work to align yourself with the energy of the land/tree.  Feel the wind in the leaves, feel the soil beneath you.  Be fully present here in this place, breathing deeply and attuning to the space.

 

Make an offering. Make an offering to the land  As you make your offering, acknowledge the land/tree in your own words.  For example, “Friend, I see you growing strong. I climbed your branches when I was a little girl.  I walk with you now as a grown woman.  I make this offering to honor you, honor the time we have spent together, and honor our friendship through the years.”

 

Dream hawk

Explain what will happen and offer an apology. Next, explain to the tree/land what will be happening, again, in your own words.  Share how you feel about this. For example: “Friend, we have fought to stop the loggers from coming here to clear this land. We have failed.  When the leaves begin to come back on the trees, they will come and clear you from this land.  I am heartbroken for what is happening to you.  I want you to hear this from me, a friend, rather than experience this.  I am so sorry that this will happen.”

 

Offer Sleep and Distance from Pain.  Offer the spirits of the land distance and slumber, again, in your own words.  Here’s an example, “Friend, because I know they will come, this will cause you great pain.  The trees here will be cut.  The forest creatures will be driven away. The soil will be torn up.  I offer to help you distance from this suffering; I offer to help your spirit go into a deep sleep, to awaken again when the pain is over and when you can regrow.  Please let me know if you would like me to help you sleep through this suffering.”

 

Wait to hear a response. It may take some time to hear a response; be patient. It is possible that when you offer this, the land will not want you to help perform the rest of this ritual or the land may want you to come back at a later point.  Again, feel out the will of the land and honor the will of the land and her spirits.

 

Construct the Sleep Sigil. If the land allows you to continue, begin by drawing or constructing the sleep sigil on the ground as large as you can.  You can draw it in the dirt, create the symbol with stones or sticks, or if it is snowy and frozen, walk it in the snow.  Place the sigil somewhere that will be directly in the path of what is to come, which will help “activate” it when the conditions are right (e.g. the loggers show up, etc).  If you are working with a single tree, you can trace the sigil on the tree in oil, charcoal, etc.   If you are at a distance, you can draw it on a piece of paper or stone and then take the sigil to the location and leave it there.  As you draw/construct the sigil, you can quietly chant “deep sleep” and focus that intention as you work.  Place your intention deeply into the sigil.

 

Put the Land/Tree to Sleep. Now, sitting near or at your sigil, once again connect with the heartbeat of the land/tree that you are working with. Picking up your drum or rattle, match that heartbeat.  For a time, simply play with the heartbeat of the land as you hear it, connecting yourself and that drum to the energy as deeply as possible.  As you drum, imagine that you are holding that heartbeat with your drum. Now, intentionally, begin to slow down that beat.  Take your time doing this, understanding that it can take a while for the land to respond.  Keep the beat going slower and lower until it is very quiet. At this point, you might sit or even lay on the ground, in rest, beating the drum so very faintly. Feel the pulse of the land now, lower and slower, as it slides into deep slumber.  Eventually, stop your drumming entirely and simply sit with the land, feeling the lower vibration.

 

Close your space. Quietly thank the elements (a simple nod to the quarters will do) and close your sacred space. Leave the land for a time, letting it fall deeply into slumber.

 

Closing

After you finish the ritual, I suggest taking care of yourself. Perhaps go hiking somewhere and spend time in a place that is not under threat, that is whole, that is vibrant. Take some time for you. It is hard to do the work I’ve outlined above because it means facing the reality of what is happening to the land and not looking away.  Thus, self care is a critical part of this work.

Shrine for the land with sleep sigil and Reishi Painting

In addition to the ritual above, I’ve put up a shrine in my home that ties to the energy of the land and helps the ongoing work that this ritual provides.  I can work with this shrine every day–as my family land is at a distance of about an hour from me, getting there each day isn’t feasible.  My shrine has a painting from the Plant Spirit Oracle that I did base on my experiences in the forest–from when the forest was logged earlier, I met the spirit of the Reishi mushroom and it taught me much about healing. The irony is that now, that same lesson is being used to help heal the forest that taught me it.  And thus, the cycle continues.

 

But, there is a silver lining to this work. Part II to this ritual–bringing the land out of slumber and into vibrancy and health can be done in the future, perhaps (I will post about this soon as part of this new series). Some of us may never get to do the second part in our lifetimes, depending on what happens to the land and the permanence of what is occurring.  Others, however, can certainly do the “waking back up’ ritual– a ritual of blessing and joy, to help the land grow anew and heal.  I hope that all of us get that opportunity–and its a more joyous day than having to perform this sleep ritual.

 

Readers, I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve done any of this kind of work and your experiences with it.  I think this is useful to share and grow together.

Taking up Land Healing as a Spiritual Practice

Sometimes, spirit offers you a call and its a call that can’t be ignored.  Part of the reason I write so much about working physically and energetically with land healing on this blog is that its clear to me now that a large part of my call is in this direction. When I was a child, it was the logging of my forest–and my eventual return to that forest years later. At my first homestead, I had to spend years working to connect with the spirits of the land and heal the land physically.  When I found the current land where I live, everything was perfect about it in terms of features I wanted–except that three acres had been logged pretty heavily. I put my head and my hands and cried–how did I find a perfect piece of land that just had been logged?  The spirits laughed and said, of course, Dana, it is the perfect piece of land for someone like you.  And thus, the lessons of a land healer continue to spiral deeper and deeper as my own spiritual practice grows. I realize that while I’ve written a lot about land healing in my previous series in 2016 and beyond, my own understanding of these practices–for both individuals and groups–has changed a lot. I’ve been refining my thinking about these topics, especially as I keep finding myself in a teaching role to others and with my return to my ancestral lands where the healing need is very strong. Thus, I’d l like to offer a new series on Land Healing practices and go deeper than my previous coverage some years ago (all of the links to my original series can be found here).

 

I feel the impetus for talking about these things now more than ever because of what is happening in the broader world. I’m continuing to reflect on what the 21st century brings for all of us practicing nature-based spirituality. Many of you can probably easily witness the impetus for doing land healing work in your immediate areas: a forest or tree friend being cut, spraying, pollution in the skies or waterways, the loss of species that you used to see, and so on.  In this post, I’ll start with a plea, if you will, for why I think that nearly everyone practicing any kind of earth-based, druid, or nature spirituality should consider taking up land healing practices as a core spiritual practice. After that, throughout this year, I’ll be sharing posts filling in some of the gaps from my previous writing and offering deeper practices.  Next week’s post will offer my revised and expanded framework for land healing practices, which include everything from physical land regeneration techniques to energetic work, witnessing work, apology, land guardianship, shifting your own practices to reduce your footprint on the earth, and self care.

 

The Impetus for Land Healing Practices as Spiritual Practice

There are so many reasons that I think that those practicing nature-based spirituality, like druidry, should consider integrating land healing into their regular spiritual practices.  If you are already convinced that this is a good idea, then you probably want to wait for next week’s post for my revised framework.  But if you are still wondering, here are my reasons why I think land healing should be a core practice for nature spirituality (And you may feel free to disagree.  Nature spirituality is wide-ranging and broad, and different people have different foci.  But let me do my best to convince you!)

 

Sacred Nature

Tending that which is sacred. What is nature spirituality without nature? If we are going to hold something sacred, it is right that we tend it and work to preserve it. Right now, given the state of nature, there is a lot of healing and preservation work to do.  If we begin to treat the land as sacred from a perspective of daily practice, we begin putting our practices and daily life in line with our values.

 

Deeper connections with the land and her spirits. If you are interested in establishing deep connections with the land–this is a clear path forward. I’m an animist, and so to me, my relationship with the local spirits of nature is one of my most critical spirit relationships. Learning about how to tend and heal nature in multiple ways allows you to share with the spirits local to you and gain their goodwill. This will happen to a much deeper level on land you are actively working to tend and heal the same land you are looking to connect with spiritually.

 

Inner and Outer Tools for the 21st Century. One of the core reasons to take up the path of land healing as a spiritual practice is simply that it is good work to do, offering you the opportunity to ‘do something’ and engage in positive change where, right now, the bulk of humanity is going off in a less productive direction. Land healing as a framework that I’m expressing here encompasses not only physical regeneration but also energetic work and self-care. Thus, it offers a number of tools that work together to help you bring balance and harmony to the land–and to your own inner spiritual life.  And I think, given where this world is unfortunately heading, we are all going to need them to bring balance, harmony, and wisdom to our own practices and the world around us.

 

 

Healing the Soul. This reason is a bit hard to put into words in a brief way, but I’m going to do my best.  I have found that the more I allow myself to get into the quagmire of 21st-century culture here in the US, the more hollow and numb I feel. Its everything: the explosive politics, the over-consumption, the extreme demands of work, the lack of balance, the constantly being connected but never actually having a connection, etc. Being out in the world, it’s hard to look at people. They look so sad and miserable, many radiating exhaustion and suffering. I do a lot of mentoring of young adults because I’m a college professor: our campuses are literally exploding with mental illness. So much of what this current US culture offers people is suffering: being overworked, overcommitted, overstimulated, overconnected, always angry or outraged, and having an utter lack of inner life.  When you focus your attention away from this quagmire and into the natural world, it can be hard there too. I remember a day when I just wanted to take a quiet walk in the woods near campus after a particularly difficult day. I picked a new trail in our local forest and set off. My hike turned in an unexpected direction as I came across so many fracking wells, all of which had only recently been installed. After coming across about well #5 on what would otherwise be this beautiful landscape, I broke down. I laid under a giant tulip poplar tree near the well and I cried into the earth. Not even in nature, here in my beloved home state, could I just get away from what was happening  I felt lost, like the landscape of my ancestors had been turned into some kind of extraction dystopia and I was stuck in the middle of it.

The aftermath of that experience, made me really start thinking about land healing practices not just as something I did when I felt the need, but as one of my core spiritual practices.  I needed a set of tools to combat what I was seeing and feel like I could do good, rather than just cry about it and feel bad. This experience really helped me begin to form the framework that I’ll present next week and see why this matters.  I went back to those woods a few weeks later with some land healer’s tools (seed balls, sigils, etc) and rituals that I had developed through meditation practice. I walked up to the fracking well where I had cried, and I worked deep ritual for sleep and healing with the land here. I could sense the land settle, the spirits calm.  I was tired, but felt better about the whole thing.  Then the spirits invited me to lay back down in the spot where I had cried a month before.  I did so. And they gave back, this beautiful healing light, and I could feel my own stress and strain settling.  It could only be described as a healing of the soul.  Land healing work offers this deep soul healing to those that need it.

 

Protecting against and responding to Biological Anhilliation. As I’ve been sharing–and processing–on this blog, over the last decade, scientists have been clear that the world’s sixth extinction-level event is underway. Scientists use the term “biological annihilation” to describe what is happening–since 1970, at least half of the world’s animals are gone. These numbers are but a small part of a larger picture, where ecosystems around the world—including right here in your backyard—are under serious decline and threat. Now, put this in context. While we enjoy nature’s benefits and her healing, the above challenges are being faced globally. When we are honoring nature, celebrating the wheel of the seasons, this is happening. It is happening in every moment of every day. This is part of our reality, as nature-honoring people (and all people on this planet). Given that this is the reality, responding to this in some capacity can also be part of our spiritual practices. Land healing practices can help you “do something” about this tragic problem–in the case of some physical land healing practices, it can be something powerful indeed.

 

Addressing the decline of ecological carrying capacity. All ecosystems have what is called a “carrying capacity.” That is, given the resources available (sunlight, soil, plant matter, water, weather, etc.) the land can reasonably sustain so many lives of different kinds: so much insect life, so much plant life, so much animal life, so much human life.  Ecological collapse refers to when an ecosystem suffers a drastically reduced carrying capacity–that is, the ecosystem can no longer support the life it used to because of one or more serious factors. These factors are usually compounded and may include the loss of a keystone species, general pollution or degradation, deforestation, ocean acidification, over-hunting, or over-harvest. The demand humans are putting on ecosystems is pushing the land beyond carrying capacity in many places in the world, especially with global demand for products. It’s like a domino effect–sometimes, all it takes is one core species to go for the entire ecosystem to collapse. Climate scientists call this the tipping point–think of it like a chair.  The chair is being held at 45 degrees, and just a fraction more, and it will crash.  It is almost certain that we are heading into a nosedive to broader-scale ecological collapse. Ecological collapse doesn’t just affect all of nature–it affects humans too.  So, while we should care about even one life, a single species, we also need to be concerned deeply for all life here on the planet. And, we should be in a position to know something about how to heal the land if it does.

 

Reparations for ancestral activity. The present certainly gives us enough impetus to engage in direct land healing work—but for some of us, particularly white people in the US (like me) cultural and ancestral backgrounds may offer an additional motivation. Certain cultures have a history of exploitation that has led to the situation at present, and thus, the work of repair (or reparations) necessary. I am certainly one of those people. I am from the United States, and my ancestors have been on this land since the start of colonization in Pennsylvania. My family is rooted in Western and Central Pennsylvania, and has been for generations—I can trace one family line back to landing on the Mayflower and founding the state. My direct ancestors were part of the mass genocide and removal of native peoples, peoples who were tenders of the land and had maintained it in healthy balance for millennia. The Susquehannock who used to live right on the soil I now reside are extinct, killed off primarily by disease (smallpox) and being slaughtered by white settlers (despite the fact that they had peaceful treaties in place). With the removal of the native peoples came the removal of the idea that nature was sacred and honored, but rather, that it was a thing to exploit and profit from to drive progress. Thus, my own ancestors were players in the three-century extraction and exploitation of the natural and destruction of native peoples. The lands they stole were tended abundant with rich natural resources—in less than two centuries those resources were almost stripped bare, in some counties in PA, 99% of the forest cover was removed by the turn of the 19th century.  I feel that I have an ancestral obligation to heal these lands and bring them back into a healthy place of abundance and life.

 

Seeds for new traditions!

Planting seeds….for hope and a better future

Connecting to the energies of life. The last few points are difficult to read for many, and certainly, they aren’t fun to write.  Tied to the healing of the soul, I think that part of the reason that practices like organic gardening and permaculture are so powerful is that they connect us with nature’s healing energies of life, the energy of regeneration and hope, rather than the broader problems with consumption and land destruction.  When you plant and grow a seed, and tend it, you are honoring life.  You are bringing the energy of life into your world–and that has a positive impact on you and on the world.

 

Offering a new path forward.  Ultimately, humanity has to develop a different paradigm if we are going to survive beyond the next 100-200 years.  A paradigm not based on consumption, growth at all costs, and greed, but rather, one built on building a healthy and sustaining relationship with nature, perhaps similar to what Wendell Berry laid out in “Work Song 2: A Vision and rooted in indigenous wisdom. That work starts today, now, with each of us in our own way.  Learning a path forward that allows us to sustain and enrich our earth mother.  Land healing practices, for me, have been a way to distance myself from the paradigms that no longer serve us and into a mindset and set of practices that are sustaining.

 

 

Anyone can practice land healing in some capacity—as we all live on this beautiful planet, and as we all are connected to it, so, too, can we learn to heal it. It is for these reasons that I believe that anyone who is taking up a path of nature spirituality should make land healing of some kind part of the core of their spiritual practice.  Our land and spirits of the land need us. Our world needs us.

The Bee and the Machine: Moving Beyond Efficiency and towards Nature-Centeredness

Animals have spirit!

Over the course of the last four centuries, the Western World has created a set of “unshakable” principles concerning the natural world: that nature is just another machine, that animals don’t feel and do not have souls, that plants and animals aren’t sentient. Descartes, writing in the 1600s during the early rise of mechanization, was one of the first to make this claim. He posited that animals are mechanical automata, that is, they are beings without souls, feelings, or pain. These same ideas were not limited to non-human life; we see the same kind of thinking being applied to justify slavery, genocide, colonialization, and a list of other atrocities. When we combine this kind of thinking with the economic ideas of “growth at all costs” and “efficiency”, we end up in the dystopian fiction we find ourselves living in right now. I want to take some time to explore these concepts today and how we might think through them, and move beyond them, as part of our own nature-centered spiritual practices.

 

Perhaps we think ourselves evolved beyond such ideas in the 21st century, but a look at basic industrialized animal husbandry and farming practices tells a different tale. These same underlying ideas that allowed Descartes and his contemporaries to strip the enchantment from the world and encourage the mechanized reality we live in are still very much pervasive in our society. Efficiency and “savings” allow most people to tolerate factory farms and look the other way over animal testing. Everything moves very fast.  If we can simply say animals have no souls, no pain, and are essentially living automatons, it makes it easier to operate mechanized systems surrounding their raising, slaughter, and/or harvest (meat, eggs, honey, fur, leather etc). Unfortunately, I see this mentality strongly even among my neighbors here in rural Western PA. It is hard to see how “farm animals” are treated and conceived as simply objects that are meant to serve a purpose and be discarded. For example, earlier this year we were planning on getting some fiber goats as pets and companions and to help us clear areas of our land that were full of brush. After hearing that some of the plants on our land might be toxic to goats, I had called and talked with a PA state extension officer to learn more, and he told me that many of the plants on our land (Wild Cherry, bracken fern, pokeberry) were indeed deadly. He suggested that rather than buy “nice goats”,  I go to the local livestock auction and buy “junk goats” which could clear the land for a few months before getting sick and dying of the poisonous plants. I told him that it was abhorrent to think of doing such a thing, and he said people did it here all the time. Needless to say, we opted for geese and ducks as pets over the goats.

 

One of the best examples of this disastrous thinking–and people’s sheer excitement about it–can be found in the 2017 invention of the “flow hive” that touts mechanization and efficiency. I wasn’t even going to write about this, thinking that the craze about it had finally died down. But the darned thing just won’t go away. A video of an advertisement for a “Flow Hive” keeps appearing on my social media feed, shared eagerly by non-beekeeping friends who think that I’ll be so excited about it because they know I keep bees. It just happened again last week and my friend was quite surprised by my response. I am not in love with the flow hive. As a druid and someone practicing sacred beekeeping, the flow hive saddens me and hurts my heart.  I’ve been hesitant to write about it, because good analyses of why the Flow Hive is a bad idea have circulated from various beekeeping sites, and I didn’t think I had a lot to add to this conversation. But upon reflection, I do have something to add from a spiritual and relationship-building perspective, and certainly, from the perspective of this broader conversation about cultivating a relationship to the living earth.

 

A good thing!

A good thing!

The flow hive, and many other things like it, represent the mechanization and industrialization of nature in the name of efficiency and productivity. What do I mean by mechanization? Common definitions of mechanization are simple: the process of converting work done by hand or with animals to doing work using machinery. A textbook definition of the machine is, simply, an apparatus that has several interconnecting parts and that use mechanical power to complete a task. Words surrounding machines often have to do with efficiency; in its entry under mechanization, for example, Wikipedia shares some delightful statistics about the inefficiency of humans (1-5% efficient) compared to internal combustion engines (20%), diesel engines (60%) or other methods (up to 90%). Here, these definitions suggest that the goal of doing work is to get it done as efficiently, that is, as easily and without additional labor, as possible. Efficiency, or getting something done quickly and with minimal effort, is an idea that Wendell Berry also takes to task in his Unsettling of America. The language of efficiency pervades our thinking, clouds or judgment, and ties us even more directly to the machine.

 

The assumption underlying the flow hive is simple: a more efficient beehive is a better one because it requires less effort and doesn’t require as much interaction with the bees. An efficient beehive will save us time and effort. If I can simply flip a switch and get the honey to flow out, that is such a better experience than having to pull frames. Uh, yeah, sure it is. When I argue against the flow hive, I’m attacked on several angles: I’m a Luddite and hate technology and progress; I am resistant to change, or I’m old fashioned.  My response is that I’m a druid.  There is something abhorrent about flipping a switch and turning my bees into a factory.

 

To understand why this whole idea is so abhorrent to me as a druid, we have to get to the goals and purposes for beekeeping, or any other practice that we do as human beings. What is the point of beekeeping, or doing any other work? Is it just to have an end product (honey) or is it also about the journey? The incredible smell of the hive as you open it, the observation of the bees in their work, the relationship that you can create with the bees, seeing bees in all stages of life, seeing the queen laying her eggs, watching the workers take care of larvae and pupae, seeing the wax exuding from the backs of the workers–these are all experiences that I treasure. Interaction and connection are two of the main reasons I keep bees–these things that have no price tag and they require only my time, expertise, and effort to experience. None of these experiences have to do with efficiency, productivity, or getting honey. These experiences have to do with the sacred relationship that a beekeeper develops with her beehive and the joy at studying and learning from the bees, who are true alchemists.

 

The flow hive, by its very mechanistic nature, not only disrupts the sacred interaction between the beekeeper and the bee, it does so at the name of efficiency. I see it no different from the other kinds of disruptions that humans often face when using machines to tame nature: you can’t really appreciate the beautiful spring day outside if 30 of your neighbors are running gas-guzzling machines all across their lawns. Its simply not the same to take a drive through the woods as opposed to a walk–the machine limits that interaction. Machines may be more efficient, but that’s the only thing they offer us, and efficiency is over-rated.

 

Another aspect of mechanization, which John Michael Greer writes about is the myth of power. In his “Myth of the Machine” post on the former Archdruid Report, he explores the relationship between machines and power, and suggests that part of the allure of machines in modern industrialized society is the allure of power. There is something, for modern humans, inherently appealing about the modern gizmos and gadgets that “do so much.” New products are sold on this basis: the new iPhone does more than the old iPhone, so of course, you want one so that you can do more with it.  Perhaps a more accurate advertisement would be that the new iPhone allows you as a human being to do less; that with each new device, the quest for efficiency becomes more complete.

 

Doing things the old way….at the North American Bushcraft School

By turning a simple switch of this flow hive, the beekeeper gains an immense amount of power over the bees. While honey harvesting used to be a careful dance between bee and beekeeper, allowing the beekeeper not only to check on the health of the hive and its honey reserves, honey harvesting is now a simplified mechanistic process. The dance of the honey harvest, the careful interactions, and care, are replaced by the machine. Who knows what is happening in the hive? The flow hive way tells you all that matters is what comes out–the honey itself.

 

But also by turning a simple switch, the beekeeper doesn’t need to have the skill to engage in that careful dance. The machine itself does the work, and the knowledge necessary to successfully harvest honey from a hive is rendered obsolete. By flipping the honey switch, we’ve traded our skilled labor, which involves paying attention to the hive’s disposition, engaging in multiple kinds of hand-eye coordination, and using wisdom just to gain a product that flows out of the hive and into your jar.  All of the sense of craft, skill, and knowledge is lost. Yes, doing it the old way takes more time–but the trade to efficiency doesn’t seem worth it. This is especially true because mechanization and efficiency, ultimately, means a loss of care and a loss of connection. When we stop opening up the beehive, we fail to see the magic and beauty and sacredness of the work of the bees. When we just turn a switch and pour out honey, an essential quality–care and interaction–has been stripped from the process. We have traded ease-of-use for care.

 

We can use this same kind of argument in all sorts of ways: when we stop producing our own food, we lose the magic of it, but also the connection to the earth by producing it.  The more that machines do for us, the more efficient our lives become, the less whole they really are.  We trade our ability to engage fully as people with the world and instead, become dependent on the machine–in the same way a new beekeeper is dependent on the switch in the flow hive for their honey.  In “Tool-Users vs. Homo Sapiens and the Megamachine” Louis Mumford writes of the end result of this process, “the beleaguered– even ‘obsolete’–individual would be entirely de-skilled, reduced to a passive, inert, trivial accessory to the machine.” Sounds kind of familiar, doesn’t it?  Isn’t this what is happening in today’s society? If we let machines and technology do everything for us, we are left with nothing but the ability to consume. No sets of core skills, and no connection to the living earth, all is done for us in the name of efficiency.

 

Its actually pretty entertaining to see news article after news article claiming things that anyone who spends time meditating in nature already knows: that all living beings have soul, methods of communication, and spirit. It doesn’t take science to tell me as a druid that trees communicate when they communicate with me daily.  It doesn’t take science to tell me that my chickens and guineas have their own unique communication styles and are deeply aware of their surroundings.  The myth that Decorate and so many others have propagated–that nature is a machine–is simply a smokescreen to take advantage of nature in the most abhorrent ways possible.

 

Beauty and mystery of nature

I write all of this because I think that these are some of the underlying ideas that we have to tackle–as druids–to really begin a paradigm shift.  Some technologies are really helpful to humanity (like say, basic refrigeration and washing machines.  I really appreciate the work that both do).  But many technologies and mechanizations take us further and further away from our ability to connect deeply with nature both by disconnecting us from the source of life (food, shelter, etc) and deskilling us. And at some point, we have to face the fact that we are likely better without a lot of these things and find ways of balancing our lives with useful technologies vs. those that actively harm us and our planet.

 

Since this has been mostly an opinion piece, I’ll end with a few takeaways that are useful practices to start these shifts:

  • Take one aspect of your life that you depend on industrialization or consumerism to fulfill and learn how to produce it yourself. As a few examples, I declared tomato independence many years ago, and make it a point to grow and preserve the tomato needs of my family for the year.  I also have recently been taking up fire-starting technologies using material from my land and also learning how to make my own paints.  While these may seem like small steps, they are highly fulfilling and empowering.
  • Look for industries that have the most egregious issues (like clothing, food) and try to make better choices, informed choices, choices that are rooted in care rather than efficiency and cost. You can’t often make every good choice due to the costs, but you can choose one or two areas to focus on.
  • Attend an earth skills gathering, like Mountaincraft or find a local Bushcraft school.  You can find a list here.  I attended my first gathering (Mountaincraft) earlier this year and was amazed by the number of skills and friendship offered at these places.  Since then, I’ve returned to the North American Bushcraft School for other classes (I was just there yesterday making leather bags!)  The Earth Skills community is teaching and modeling a more healthy paradigm and relationship with the living earth–and this kind of thing is a great deal of fun.
  • Examine your own assumptions and start checking those assumptions in your interaction with regards to things like growth, efficiency, etc.  As I shared before on this blog, mindset shifts are the keys to everything else: if we shift our mindsets, we can change the world.  These are insidious things that are rooted deeply in our subconscious.  Bringing them to a conscious place, examining them, and ridding oneself of them takes effort–but it is so worth it.  Surrounding yourself with people who are doing this same work really helps.
  • Have technology-free days where you embrace the darkness, spend time in nature, learn to make things slowly and by hand, and generally disconnect and allow yourself to simply be, un-impeded, with nature.  You’ll be glad you did!

This planet is being eradicated by the kinds of thinking and actions I’ve examined in this post.  I’m growing tired of inaction and tired of watching the thing that I hold sacred, and that I love, be under such threat.  If we change mindsets, we change the world.

The Tears of the Earth: A Hike on Sólheimajökull Glacier

Sólheimajökull

Sólheimajökull

It was our final day in Iceland before returning back to the US. We so many great experiences visiting this country of beautiful extremes, but more than anything, what we wanted to see on our last day was a glacier. We talked about it, and decided that we should see a glacier, as we might never be able to see one again. We booked a beginner glacier hike on Sólheimajökull glacier, a hike that took you way up into the glacier.

 

Where the glacier used to be, 2010. Where I am standing and taking the photograph is where it was in mid 2009.

It was a misty and cool day; small droplets of rain pressed against us at the parking lot at the base of the glacier. Before us, the Sólheimajökull glacier loomed, white and black and gray. After getting fitted with safety harnesses, helmets, crampons, and pick axes, our group of twelve set off to the glacier hike. Our guide, who was originally from the Alps and who had been hiking glaciers his whole life, first took us to a sign as we walked along the edge of an enormous lake. He stopped and said, “In 2010, this is where the glacier was. Each year, it gets smaller. In the winter, it stops melting but never regrows. But we’ve still got quite a hike to get to the glacier as you can see.” The sign he showed us had many different numbers with years. Last year, in 2018, the glacier receded more than any other year: 118 meters. And so, we continued our hike, which took about 15 minutes, walking along the edge glacier’s melt pool.  This link offers a video that shows the melting of the Sólheimajökull glacier from the years 2007- 2015.

 

One of the tours they now advertise in Iceland the “kayak the glacier” experience. There is a kind of horseshoe shaped lake that is made when a glacier reaches its largest size and then begins to melt. You’ve seen this shape before on a map: its reflected in the bowl-shaped bottom of Lake Michigan. That bowl shape is created by the melting of a glacier. As a glacier advances, it  moves earth itself, pushing up stone, soil, and bedrock; the powerful edge of it creating a wall of stone. As the glacier recedes, it leaves that wall of stone behind, and as it melts, that stone creates a natural dam, and the bowl-shaped area behind the dam fills with water. Water that tourists can kayak in. Water that is created, in part, by the 2600 miles it took me to fly to Iceland. Water that is, for all intents and purposes, the tears that the earth cries.

 

Icebergs and the melt pool at Sólheimajökull

Icebergs and the melt pool at Sólheimajökull

As I stood at the bottom of the glacier, I realized how small I was in comparison to the massive block of ice. The Sólheimajökull glacier took up all the space, moving into our field of vision, white, black, and sometimes blue, daunting in its appearance. As we got close, you could see the shimmering of the melt water coming off of it, moving into the lake below.  Icebergs, also, floated in the lake–our guide explained that those icebergs crack off the glacier frequently and will likely be gone by the end of the summer.  So much ice.  So much to melt.

 

We carefully put our crampons on our feet and, single file, began our ascent into the glacier.  As soon as we stepped foot on the glacier, my heart grew heavy with sorrow. The most striking feature of the glacier wasn’t the beauty. It wasn’t the black ash from various volcanic activity, or the white and blue ice. The most striking feature was how fast it was melting. Everywhere the glacier was melting. The day we were there, it was around 50 degrees, now a fairly common temperature for Iceland this time of year. And everywhere you looked, the glacier was glistening. Little drips became streams, streams became bigger streams, and eventually, they flowed into quite large rivers, running down the glacier. Standing anywhere on the glacier, you could observe this and watch the ice melt and take milennia of black and gray ash along with it.

 

At one point, our guide stopped and pointed to a mountain quite far off from where we stood. Less than a decade ago, he told us, the glacier reached up to that nearby mountain. Now, that mountain isn’t reachable, the glacier is much lower, and there is a glacial river between us. I stood there and thought about it: that must have been millions of gallons of water in that short time, all melted away into the lake and eventually, ocean nearby.

 

Mountain where Sólheimajökull used to reach

Mountain where Sólheimajökull used to reach

The amount of melting made the Sólheimajökull a bit difficult to traverse. The tour company maintained a trail on the glacier, but it was an ever-moving target. As we hiked, we two people working on the trail on the glacier. They would cut a set of stairs, and then, within an hour or two, the stairs would melt and become dangerous and they’d have to cut new ones. This ever-evolving trail was now just part of the experience of walking on a glacier, as our guide explained.

 

The walk was a walk of extremes. The solid white and blue ice. The black and gray of the volcanic ash becoming unlocked as the glacier melted. One of the folks on our walk asked, “can we tell what volcanic eruption this ash came from?” Our guide said, “No, it all just melts together.” You could be standing on ash and melt from 10,000 years ago or even 100,000. Scientists with specialized equipment drilling core samples could tell, but we could not.  Here is an image of the entire glacier, Myrdalsjokull, from 1986 to September 2014.  The glacier we walked was one “arm” of this larger glacier.  You can see how massive it is, and you can glimpse the volcano that sits beneath.

 

Throughout our week in Iceland, I didn’t get a strong sense that the spirits of the land were welcoming or open to outsiders. Icelanders certainly capitalize on their island’s natural beauty as part of their tourist industry. And while you might enter a lava cave and be told of rooms called “the banquet hall of the elves” or “the troll’s den”,  or, you might see the stone stacks throughout the land that are there to appease the little people, the Icelandic people are not willing to talk about those aspects of their land.  They don’t speak of their relationship to the land spirits with outsiders. And neither do those spirits of the land seem interested in saying hello.  So I spent the week in Iceland not engaged heavily with the spirits of the land; things were just quiet.  Thus, I was certainly surprised when even before I walked up to it, the glacier immediately reached out to me and wanted to convey a message.

 

Meltwater on the Sólheimajökull glacier

Meltwater on the Sólheimajökull glacier

As we climbed Sólheimajökull, I connected deeply with the spirit of place. The glacier itself, and the spirit of the mountain—between two active volcanoes, Katla and Eyjafjallajökull. Sólheimajökull first shared with me its anger, so angry that it was melting away. So angry at humans. I could feel the stress and strain as it spoke to me: to tell people what you have seen here. Tell of how the melting will flood their cities. Speak of the truth you have witnessed. I felt the anger in its voice, the anger radiating out of it, as it knew it was dying.

 

We continued to climb the glacier, witnessing its tragic beauty among the melting ice. Then a second voice emerged from Sólheimajökull, this one of sadness. I am losing myself, the glacier said. I am crying tears for the world. How many people who climb me today will speak of what they have seen? How many will change because of it?  How many have made me cry further just to walk upon me? I cry for us, the glacier said, and I cry for the world.

 

We had to climb over a large crevasse with water rushing through it. Our guide explained that this kind of crevasse was very dangerous and could easily drown you if you fell in.  Eventually this crevasse would literally crack a large chunk of the glacier off into the melt pool. As I navigated the crevice, I heard the glacier speak once again, this time, in despair. What is happening is happening. There is nothing to be done.  Our melting will reshape the world. I have been here for so long, and someday, I will be here again. But in the meantime, my waters will travel far and wide.

 

Upon meditation on this experience after returning home, I realized that I was hearing the many voices of this glacier working through the many stages of grief.  I was experiencing the grief that this sacred place was experiencing, conveying to me, perhaps so I could convey it to you.

 

Crevasse in melting glacier

Crevasse in melting glacier

We got to a high point on the glacier where you could see it continue to rise up for many miles into the mist.  Here the glacier flattened out quite a bit. It was here that our guide swung two pickaxes in the ice to create handholds and let us kneel down on them to drink the fresh glacial melt-water. Pure, cold, refreshing. As I drank the water, thirsty from our climb, I could feel the energy of the glacier. As I drank, the emotions that the glacier was conveying to me welled up within me, overflowing. Anger, fear, sadness, despair, acceptance. All at once, those feelings spread throughout me. As we made our way back down, I simply allowed myself to experience the myriad of complex feelings of this place.

 

The next day, on our flight home, we flew over Greenland and the lower part of the Arctic before landing back in the US. I looked down, out of the window of the plane, and saw so many small chunks of ice participating in their own complex patterns of melting, this time, with nobody to hear or witness up close.

 

Melting ice from the plane

Melting ice from the plane

How much damage did this trip to Iceland cost the earth? That’s the part that has been perhaps the hardest for me to process, as I’ve been thinking about and meditating on this experience. I went on this trip for pleasure. I’ve had little chance to travel, and I wanted to experience new things and visit somewhere completely different. But my very engagement with this glacier, my presence there, was part of why it was melting. Sure, you can say, but Dana, you can always offset your carbon for this. And yes, I always do offset my carbon from travel at the end of the year (most of it work related). But does that  offset matter? In the end, I chose to engage in an activity that speeded the melting of this sacred place.helped this glacier melt. One article, I read recently suggested that each trans-Atlantic flight, like the one I took, melts about 30 square feet of Arctic sea ice.  So for myself, my round trip contributed to 60 square feet of ice melted in the Arctic.

 

Just like the glacier, I’m full of a myriad of complex emotions. I’m glad to have this experience. I’m saddened by it. I recognize my own part in this.  I feel sorrow and anger and acceptance. We are all on the front lines of climate change, the 6th extinction happening, the age of the Anthropocene.  Every one of us is living in a time where we are aware of the problem, many of us trying to do something about it. At the same time, by participating in modern life, we can’t help but contributing to it.  This is the great Catch-22 of our age.  To see the glacier is to destroy the glacier.  To use fossil fuels necessary for modern life is to burn them.  How can I afford solar panels for my home without commuting to work each day in a fossil fuel powered vehicle?  The glacier weeps as I write.

 

But the other thing that this lesson has powerfully taught me is the power of experience. How many people, in seeing that melting glacier could really deny the truth of climate change? How could it be denied that these things are happening, powerfully and directly, before our very eyes?  This experience has changed me. I “knew” about the glaciers melting before.  Knew as in I intellectually engaged in an understanding about the fact that glaciers worldwide were melting. But it was not till I stood upon one, till I connected with the spirit of that place, and until I confronted my own contribution to that melting, could I really have wisdom surrounding it.

 

The glacier

The glacier

As I write these words, I’m attempting to convey some of that wisdom, that direct experience, but my words cannot have the impact of that weeping glacier. Book knowledge is what we engage with intellectually and logically, what we read or hear in order to better understand something. Book knowledge is mitigated by human language, words on paper or spoken aloud. These words, as I write them, are read by your eyes and processed by your brain. But they are a pale representation for the experience of standing there, of seeing the glacier weep, drinking its meltwater, and feeling its pain. But I’ve done my best, dear reader, and I hope it gives you a small piece into this experience and into that of one melting glacier. Can we find these same kinds of changes in our own ecosystems, and use them as local teaching tools? Perhaps we can, and perhaps that’s a message I can leave you with today.

 

PS:  I’m excited to announce that I just signed my first book contract a few weeks ago!  Because of this, I will be taking a few weeks off of blogging so that I can prepare my manuscript to submit to the publisher (which is quite a bit of work).  I’ll keep you updated on the progress, release date, etc.  Thanks for your understanding!