Category Archives: Cycles

A 21st Century Wheel of the Year: Cultivating Receptivity at the Fall Equinox

Nature Mandala

The Fall Equinox is traditionally about harvest, harvesting the fruits of your labor and the fruits of the land in preparation for the coming of winter. This model of the wheel of the year focuses on earned outcomes: you’ve planted your crops, you’ve tended them all season, you’ve invested the time, and now, you are able to receive the rewards of your efforts. And a lot of our own understanding of the celebration of these seasons works on that narrative: planning, planting, tending, harvesting, and the cycle of the seasons. This same cycle is expected, perhaps, anticipated, in our everyday lives. For example, if you put the effort into getting degrees and starting a career, or if you put in a ton of hard effort at your workplace, you will eventually be rewarded with a harvest, a payoff, and a sense of stability. There’s this large sense that if you put your time in, then your harvest and rewards will come.

For weeks now, I tried to write a different post, a one celebrating the harvest and using the traditional themes of the Fall Equinox in the druid tradition. Yet, it turned out to be very difficult to write. There’s been so much change and challenge in the last two years.  While our garden is certainly bountiful and we are bringing in the harvest on our homestead, I found these narratives of “putting in your work and getting a harvest” really problematic to dwell on because for myself and so many others, that whole idea has crumbled in workplaces and cultures. In talking with friends in a variety of fields and contexts, I think that’s perhaps the thing that’s been most difficult for everyone during the last year and a half–the loss of that narrative, of that stability, of that dependable way forward. A lot of those expected cycles and seasons were disrupted, and it appears that most of us are never going back to “before.”  This led to my own thinking and meditations about the new skills that getting such a harvest in today’s age requires–resilience, like I shared a few weeks ago, but also other themes I’ve touched on, such as flow. In other words, just like our traditional wheel, this new set of skills and themes may help us find balance, grounding, and stability in an increasingly unstable world.

I’m not suggesting that we abandon the traditional wheel or the themes of harvest or balance at the Fall Equinox, because these themes are still very much present on our landscape and in many aspects of our lives. But, I do think we need to build into our traditional wheel and celebrations a broader set of thinking, visioning, and ideas that might help us live, adapt to, and thrive in this new and less predictable age. In other words, if the stability of the Holocene allowed agrarian societies to develop elaborate spiritual traditions surrounding planting and harvest, what does the instability of the Anthropocene require of our spiritual traditions? What themes or concepts can those practicing nature-based spirituality embrace now so that we can offer a better vision for the future?  It is this question that I will consider today for the Fall Equinox, and I will return to this question for the next seven holidays as we move froward through the next eight seasonal holidays–creating an wheel of the year that offers us tools for visioning and resiliency.

So with all of that written as a way of introduction to why I’m deviating from the traditional theme for the Fall Equinox (and subsequent holidays for the wheel of the year in the coming seasons), I’m going to present some themes that I think are powerful lessons for us to incorporate into spiritual practices and seasonal celebrations.  So let’s turn to one of these themes: receptivity!

Receptivity as a theme for the Fall Equinox

Hickory, Maple, Aster, Hawthorn, and Poke mandala on moss

Receptivity has a lot of dimensions and definitions. In its most simple form, it is about openness: openness to new ideas, to change, and new experiences or patterns of life.  Its about accepting what comes rather than trying to force things in a specific direction. Receptivity is about us simply allowing things to flow in, rather than trying to force things in a specific way. When you dig into it, receptivity is a very good theme for the “harvest” narrative, because with receptivity, rather than cultivating an expectation of what we want and expect to come, we are open to what is and what comes our way.

One of the reasons that Receptivity is such a good theme is that it is a counter balance to the effort-reward cultural narrative that is tied to the Fall Equinox and themes of harvest. There is one enormous problem with the effort/reward theme on a larger cultural level: it belongs to a different age. It belongs to the Holocene, an 8000-11,000 year period of stable climate that allowed humans to develop agriculture, allowed humans to have some predictability about their surroundings, and allowed us to develop symbolic understandings like those drawn upon for the modern wheel of the year. It also belongs to the 20th century, when stable careers were common and people would retire from blue collar jobs with pensions. But we are not in the Holocene any longer, both climate-wise and culturally, we’ve moved onto the Anthropocene (or, as Stephen Pyne recently called it, the Pyrocene, the age of fires). The Anthropocene is characterized by human-driven planetary changes which destabilize every aspect of our lives. These changes are increasing in intensity and will continue throughout the course of our lives and into the lives of our descendants. Many now point to 1950 as the time when the Anthropocene officially began, with humanity’s “great acceleration” of consumption and capitalism. But like any age, it takes time to ramp up, and it is now in the 21st century, seventy years later, we are really starting to see the accelerating effects of the Anthropocene.  In thinking about these changes, both culturally in the last 18 months with the pandemic, and in the wake of the UN’s release of the IPPC 2021 climate change report, we need some new themes.

While we have traditionally based the wheel of the year on more recent agrarian human ancestors as part of the Holocene,  we no longer live in that age. Agrarian societies depend on very limited numbers crops for sustenance and survival. For a culture that depends on a small number of crops, getting a harvest from those crops becomes absolutely critical for life, and it makes sense that a huge amount of their spiritual tradition was focused on the harvest. If you think about many of the harvest traditions–they was (and still were) focused on staple crops like apples, wheat, and barley without which our agrarian ancestors would not have survived.  This is also of why situations like the failure of one crop were so devastating; for example, the Irish Potato Famine in the 1850’s killed over 1,000,000 Irish and sent many of them (including my own ancestors) in search of new places to put down roots.

However, if we go back further to the time of our more distant hunter-gatherer ancestors, we know that they lived and thrived through multiple destabilized climates and planetary ages.  If we examine their experiences with obtaining a harvest–the picture emerges quite differently. Most hunter-gatherer societies still had a few foods that were central to their diets (like acorn eating cultures, specific animals that were hunted and revered, etc) but most lived off of an incredible variety of different foods, in some cases 1000 or more (as you can learn from ethnobotanical guides like M. Kat Anderson’s Tending the Wilds or Charlotte Ericssen-Brown’s Medicinal and Other Uses of North American Plants).  These foods vary considerably from season to season–hardwood nut crops, for example, have a “mast year” every 3-5 years.  That is, while there was always food to harvest, the kinds of food, amounts of food, and timing of it was pretty variable and required us to simply accept what was, capitalize on what was, and move forward.  (As an aside, hunter-gatherer societies did also not suffer from what some scientists would call “diseases of civilization” like heart disease or diabetes; see more about this at this article).

So let’s focus for on gathering and how it is tied to receptivity. I do a lot of wild food foraging and wild food education in addition to tending a 5-acre homestead and growing a lot of food.  The mindsets for gathering vs. farming are really different. Both are based on innate wisdom and knowledge of the land, but there are expectations in homesteading/gardening that are simply not present in wild food foraging. With foraging, you never really know what you might encounter or how abundant things might be. You can only use your knowledge to go to places where you’ve found food before and use your knowledge of the timing of the season to help you see what is out there. One year, the wild berry crop is massive while the next there’s practically no berries to speak of because of a late frost.  One year you could harvest hundreds of pounds of chestnuts and in the next, they are full of worms but there are incredible amounts of lamb’s quarters to make flour.  That’s how it is when you are foraging for wild foods–you just put yourself out there to look and see what you can find.  Hence, receptivity and gratitude for the harvest.

Receptivity: Bardic, Ovate, and Druid Practices

A ritual altar at the fall equinox

Receptivity is a pretty challenging concept for many of us who grew up in Western cultures, and I think its grown a lot more difficult in recent years.  Here in the US, for example, an extremely polarized cultural and political climate encourages us to shut down, to not even be willing to hear voices that are different than our own, and to spend time only with people who think and act like we do.  US culture also maintains the effort-reward faulty narrative that suggests that if you simply work hard you will be successful.  Obviously, that’s a lot different from cultivating receptivity.  Thus, I think it is useful to work to cultivate spiritual practices that cultivate receptivity.  And yes–I keep using the term “cultivate” very specifically–this is something we can bring into our lives, like a new skill we are learning. Here are a few methods to practice receptivity through the lens of bardic, ovate, and druid practice.

Receptivity and Wild Foods: An Ovate Practice

One way of cultivating receptivity and honor the harvest is to take up a wild food foraging practice and take a day to go out and seek out wild foods.  Wild foods can be found in all settings, from urban to wilderness, and its just a matter of time and building your knowledge.   See if you can find enough for to create at least part of a meal.  This time of year in Eastern North America, they are particularly abundant–you can find wild apples, hardwood nuts (hickories, chestnuts, butternut, walnuts, hazelnuts, acorns);fall greens (usually there is a second harvest of greens like dandelion); grain harvests (wild amaranth, lambs quarters, or yellow dock); and fall mushrooms (Hen of the Woods, late Chicken of the Woods, Honey Mushrooms, etc).  Building an ethical foraging practice and bringing some of this into your regular practice allows for not only a deep knowledge and reverence of nature, but also a way to align with ancient human ancestors and cultivate receptivity.

With any wild food foraging practice, I want to stress the importance of ethical harvest.  Offer gratitude and respect to what you are harvesting, seek permission, and monitor wild food populations. For an introduction to ethical foraging, please see this post.  I also have two general posts that can get you started on wild foraging with resource and book suggestions: here and here.

So as a fall equinox celebration, you might gather some wild foods leading up to the Fall Equinox and then prepare a celebratory meal in gratitude and reverence for what the land has provided.  Supplement this with food from your own garden or farmer’s market and enjoy the feast!

Receptivity: A Fall Equinox Journey of Spirit

On the druid side, we might think about how to create receptivity through spiritual connection and ritual.  Druid practices are about ritual, meditation, and celebration.  For this practice, rather than planning a formal Fall Equinox ceremony, you will simply allow yourself to experience the magic and enchantment of the living earth, be guided by spirit, and create an ongoing ceremonial experience for yourself.

To do this, plan on spending some deep time in nature, at least an hour or more. Ideally this will be a place with some wildness to it. You might take a few tools with you–an offering blend, a harvest knife, your crane bag, a spiritual journal. But don’t plan too much–the idea is to allow the ceremony to unfold on your journey.

When you get where you are going, start by opening up yourself to a ceremonial experience. Keep your mind and intentions open but do any protective work you see as necessary (e.g. I would do AODA’s Sphere of Protection ceremony to begin).  After that, begin to walk and explore, seeing what you are drawn to.  Leave offerings, talk with trees, and spend time simply communing with the living earth.  Look for messages in the forms of animals, clouds, wind, trees.  See what calls to you and the work you can do to celebrate this year.  This might be a tree meditation, a grounding ceremony in the woods, forest bathing, taking a nap, making offerings, building a nature mandala, etc.  The point here is that rather than prepare a pre-concieved plan for your Fall Equinox, you simply allow spirit to guide you.

As you are exiting the forest, give yourself some time to return.  Breathe deeply, “close” the ceremonial experience in whatever way you see fit, and take time to return to the mundane world.  Carry what you’ve learned about yourself and nature with you into the coming season.

Receptivity: Cultivating in Community

Bardic practices involve both creative expression as well as community, and in this case, this practice focuses more on cultivating open relationships with others.  The practice is simple:

Talk to someone who believes very differently than you do in a non-judgemental, open way*.  One activity to help you cultivate receptivity is to find someone who has very different life experience, different political or social views, and/or a different way of seeing the world from you. Spend time asking that person questions to understand what they believe and why they believe it.  As you are listening, work to withhold your own judgment (note your emotional reactions) and also work hard not to respond to them in a way that would put your own beliefs at the center of the discussion. Ask questions, listen, and absorb what they are saying. After you’ve done this, express gratitude to the person for sharing their time and thoughts. (And yes, I realize how incredibly hard this might be to do, at least for those in the US right now.  Try it anyways.  Strip aside the common political stigmas and simply listen to a person as a human being).

After you’ve done this, meditate on the experience. What did you gain from this experience? Did it reaffirm your beliefs or did it allow you to really experience a new perspective? Do you have more empathy and understanding for those who may believe differently than you?

(*I am grateful to  Dr. Abby Michelini for this practice.  Abby recently completed a dissertation and I was honored to be a dissertation reader on her project. Her project was to create poetic narratives from people on radically different sides of the spectrum and use those as a way of cultivating deep listening to bridge political and cultural divides. And you know what? It worked. After seeing her study, this practice gave me a lot of hope.  I started trying this practice in my own life and I was really grateful for this as a new tool to cultivate openness and receptivity towards others! So I’m sharing it here!)

Closing

Learning how to cultivate receptivity in such challenging times offers us a powerful tool.  It allows us to be more flexible and adaptable to things that we can’t change and encourages us to find delight in the unexpected.  May your feet tread ever lightly upon the soil and your lungs fill with clean air at this blessed Fall Equinox!

Also, If you are interested more in this topic, cultivating your intuition, connecting with our primal ancestral roots, and in connecting deeply with nature, I wanted to draw your attention to a fabulous 8 week online course by Jon Young, Nate Summers, and Sarah Fontaine starting soon! Here’s a link to the Intuitive Tracking course https://www.primalnate.com/intuitivetracking   I’ll be taking this course, and I hope you consider it as well!

A Spring Equinox Meditation: The Mysteries of the Dandelion and the Three Currents

Fields of dandelion

Fields of dandelion

One of the hallmarks of spring is the blooming of the vibrant and colorful dandelion. Emerging as soon as the coldest of the temperatures ease, the blooming of the dandelions affirm that the long, dark winter is indeed over and summer is just around the corner. In today’s post, and in honor of the Spring Equinox and the incredible dandelion, I offer a spring tonic and meditative journey to celebrate the Spring Equinox and learn more about the mysteries of the dandelion. This is one of my monthly AODA-themed posts, so I hope you enjoy it and have a blessed spring equinox!

About the Dandelion

The blooming of the dandelions is a special time of year. For us here in Western PA, dandelions bloom just as the final frosts are easing, and are a sign that we can start planting some of our more tending crops in the coming weeks.  Then it is dandelion blooming week, where every dandelion growing in an area will bloom.  You will see the most amazing fields of dandelion blooms–and then the next week, they will all turn to beautiful seed puffs and scatter to the wind. If you want to make dandelion wine or dandelion jelly, you have a short window in which to collect copious amounts of dandelion flowers before they all turn to seed and scatter.

Widdershins the Gander enjoys a dandelion!

Dandelion is one of the most widespread plants in the world; it was native to Europe and Asia and is now naturalized throughout the globe. Dandelion was spread far and wide by peoples migrating from Europe and Asia for the simple fact that it is an incredibly rich source of nutrients as a healing food and also it is fantastic medicine. Dandelion is very rich in antioxidants, dietary fiber, and low in calories, making it a very good green to integrate into your diet regularly. They are particularly high in Vitamin K and A, and also contain good amounts of Calcium, Iron, and Vitamin C. It also has a range of medicinal benefits–it is known as a bitter herb, diuretic, and supports the detoxification of the body.  In many parts of Appalachia, including here in Northern Appalachia in Western PA, people would brew up a spring tonic to help “thin the blood.” What these tonics actually did was help support the liver (Sassafras) and Kidneys (Dandelion, Nettle), flush these organs of toxins, and promote more healthy elimination.  Thus, this is another reason that Dandelion is a great springtime healing herb.

Dandelion Meditative Journey

 

Yard full of dandelions!

Yard full of dandelions!

The following meditation can be used as part of a solo or small group ritual for celebrating the Spring Equinox or any other time.  This meditation focuses on exploring the dandelion’s mysteries and connecting you to the great energies of the universe.

Optional Interaction: Plant meditations work best when you have interacted with the plant in the physical world in some way prior to starting your journey.  This puts you in touch with both the.  This could be greeting a plant outside, eating some dandelion greens, or drinking a dandelion root spring tonic tea prior to the start of the ceremony.  I’ve offered two dandelion tea recipes at the bottom of this post.

The Meditative Journey

Begin with opening up a sacred grove, doing smoke cleansing, or anything else that will help prepare and protect you for the journey to come.

Slow your breathing down and do the four-fold breath:  breath in for four counts, hold for four counts, breathe out for four counts, and hold for four counts.  As you breathe, feel yourself relaxing into this time and space.

As you continue to do the four-fold breath, imagine the deep green of the dandelion leaves in the air around you.  As you breathe, breathe in that green energy, allowing it to sink within you.

You are standing before a field.  As far as your eye can see, the field is covered in blooming dandelions.  The warm spring sun is high in the sky, warming the earth. A smiling man with dandelion gold hair walks toward you.  He greets you and says, “I and my tribe welcome the sun back to the earth after a long and cold winter. The sun’s rays, full of solar energy, bless the land and energize it for the season that is to come. It seems that you, too, have experienced the darkness and cold of winter.  Come now, and lay in the field, and allow the solar current to infuse you with the joy and light of the sun. The sun’s rays will prepare you for the journey ahead.”

As the field is so inviting, you lay for a time, and bask in the sun.  You feel the sun’s rays come down upon you, nourishing you, vitalizing you, and filling you with vitality and energy for the coming season. Take a moment to Listen for any other messages or feelings you might have as the solar energy imbues you with light.

When you are finished, you stand and your guide greets you once again.  He says, “The Dandelion is unique that it is one of the few plants that offer true balance–the flowers of the dandelion, which I represent, are solar in nature and welcome back the sun.  Dandelion flowers can aid you in times of darkness by bringing back the light.  However, the dandelion also basks in the light of the moon.  Let us now meet another spirit of the dandelion and continue our journey.”

As you walk closer, you see that one cluster of dandelions grows larger and larger, until it is taller than the tallest tree.  Next to the stem cluster, you see a young woman.  She is silver-haired with brown skin and has fine features. She smiles and greets you, “I and my tribe welcome you to journey deep within the mysteries of the dandelion.  The roots of the dandelion go deep into the fertile earth, drawing up the rays of earth energy that runs through the land.  The telluric current offers strength, grounding, and purpose and allows us to shed that which no longer serves you.  Will you enter and experience the blessing of the telluric current? ”

She steps back and lifts a small green leaf to reveal a door into the center of the dandelion stalk and down into the root. The two of you enter. As you journey into the root of the dandelion, you see a green-gold pool full of telluric energy welling up from the roots of the dandelion tree.  She smiles and says, “Now that you have been energized and blessed with the solar current, you are ready to shed your weary burdens. The long and dark months of the recent past have added to your burdens.  Shed that which you no longer want to carry. Take only what you want to take forward.  When you are ready,  we will be waiting for you.”

As you shed your burdens and stay within the dark roots of the dandelion for a time, feel the energy of the Telluric current welling around you.  When time has passed and you are free of your burdens, you return to the door to be greeted by both the solar and lunar avatars of the dandelion.

Use many resources already on the homestead!

Use many resources already on the homestead!

As you exit the door, you see that night has fallen. The moon reflects in the starry night sky, and you look upon the great field full of dandelions.  All of the dandelions have gone to seed and the field appears as though thousands of full moons are there upon the earth.

Both guides come to stand together, holding hands.  “You have received the blessing of the solar current, from the sun and the turning wheel of the stars above you.  The solar current has revitalized you from the weariness of the dark half of the year. You have received the blessing of the telluric current of the spirit that resides below, of the nurturing heart of the earth, cast your burdens.  Now, we send you off on your journey to seed the future what is to come.”

You see a glowing child who is frolicking with a seed pod in their hands, far off in the field.  They laugh and begin running towards you, with dandelion seeds spiraling up into the warm sprint air.  The child says, “We children know that when you blow on a dandelion, you make wishes.  If the seeds fly far enough, wishes come true.”

After you answer, they hand you a seed pod. “Put your intentions into this pod.  Think about what you would most like to bring into being this coming season.”  As you meditate on this intention, you see the green-gold energy of the telluric current welling up below you, and the golden energy of the solar current coming down from above. The lunar energies swirl into your seed pod, adding energy to your intention for the coming season.  The child nods and blows their own seed head, and beckons for you to do the same.

As you blow, the child says, “Watch the seeds as they blow in the wind and see what messages they have.”  You do so, pausing for as long as necessary.

The child smiles and says, “The seeds are off on their journey, but they will need your help to bring your intention into reality. Think about what you might do as the next sun rises to help you on your new journey.”

The three aspects of the spirit of the dandelion come together to stand with you and the four of you watch as the full moon sets and as the sun rises with a brilliant splendor.  As the sun rises, the dandelion seeds continue to spiral around you, and you are filled with joy and purpose.

Your guides leave you with parting words, “By bringing together the energies of the earth with energies of the sun, we come into a place of balance and the lunar current is born.  And it is in this sacred connection that offers us the spark of Nywfre, the life energy that allows all things to come into being. Through the power of the sun and the moon, through the power of the heavens and earth, the dandelion will aid you on your journey to come.”

You can close your grove in the usual manner.  Finish the journey by having a cup of dandelion and other herbal tea.

About the Symbolism in the Meditative Journey

In my work with the dandelion over the years, I have always been fascinated by how this incredible plant can hold such potent solar and lunar energies.  Through these meditations and work, this journey was born. The symbolism in this journey uses the Druid Revival concepts of the solar current, the telluric current, and the lunar current, or the three aspects of spirit in a seven-element system.  In the Druid Revival, it is the synthesis of the solar current, the light coming down from the sun and heavens, with the telluric current, the light rising from the earth, that allows the spark of life, Nywfre, and the lunar current to be born.  For more on these concepts, consider checking out this post!  This system is used by the Aas our core energetic system.

Dandelion Spring Tonic Tea

If you’d like to supplement this guided journey, you can make either of these delightful teas:

Roasted Dandelion Root “Coffee”

Dandelion root tea is a very rich and warming tea that helps support the body’s natural cleansing with a specific alterative action (which supports the liver’s healthy functioning). Roots are best gathered in the fall and early spring before the dandelions have started into flowers.  Dig your dandelion roots and put them in a bucket of water.  Let them soak for a bit, and then swish them around, and repeat a few times.  This will get most of the dirt off of them–the rest can be scrubbed off.  Dandelion roots can be finely chopped and roasted for about 30 min in a 350-degree oven.  They are done when they brown nicely.  Then, you would make this like any other root tea–boil for 10 minutes with the lid on, add honey if you’d like, and enjoy.

Dandelion Flower and Leaf Tea.  Dandelion leaf also helps cleanse the body, with specific support for the kidneys, with diuretic action. Pick fresh dandelion flowers and leaves and simply pour over boiling water, let steep for 5 min, and then enjoy.  Dried leaves actually make a better tea (dried herbs have the plant cell walls ruptured, so they are easier to extract the medicine).  Be aware that dandelion leaf is a diuretic (makes you pee).

Enjoy a cup of either tea as a spring tonic and a way to begin or end your meditative journey with the dandelion.

The Magic of the Understory

A path of evergreen mountain laurel at Laurel Hill State Park. Amazing to hike through in the winter, when the understory sings!

As you may have noticed, in the last month or so I’ve been working diligently on my “Sacred Trees in the Americas” series.  The truth is, I’ve worked through most of the trees that are well known and form the overstory of most of the forests in the US East Coast.  Trees like White Pine, Oak, Hickory, Sugar Maple, Ash, Beech, and Birch are dominant trees.  And when you do research on these trees, you find a rich tradition and lore from both the Americas and the Old World.  Recently, I’ve moved my attention to lesser-known trees like Ironwood and Devil’s Walking Stick, and have covered others like Witch Hazel (distinct and different from American Hazel) and Spicebush. There is a striking difference between the first group and the second:  the absence of magical lore or even herbal lore on these trees.  One of the things that strike me is that many of these trees form the understory, the less majestic but not less magical counterparts.

In mid-November of 2020, I was blessed with good enough weather to do a final overnight camping trip and two-day hike before the snows came. I really like hiking during the late fall and winter months; I feel you can really learn a lot about nature that is obscured in the summer.  The landscape is just as vibrant and dynamic but so different. During this hike, the major theme that came to the surface for me during this time was examining the vibrancy and life of the understory.  In my travels, I was walking primarily through Oak-Hickory mature forests (primarily 2nd growth trees at least 100 or more years old).  These trees were bare and yet the understory flourished.  The moss was an electric green color, dazzling in its intensity.  The moss waits all year beneath the full shade of the overstory and then when the leaves come down, it thrives.  Likewise, the three trees that really stood out to me were all understory trees. Witch Hazel in her winter bloom phase, with bright yellow flowers that look like little fireworks–that were literally lighting up the forest.  Rhododendron with her showy, deep green, waxy leaves and beautifully twisted trunks, looking more tropical than ever. And Mountain Laurel, much more subdued than Rhodadendron with smaller leaves and growing much less tall–but no less majestic. The Ironwoods bent over the streams and reached up into the skies, ready to burst forth when spring arrives again.

Electric green moss soaking in the winter sun

It struck me how the understory was thriving in the winter months with the absence of the overstory and how these plants had evolved to take advantage of the winter light.  The evergreen trees, the blooming witch hazel, the early-blooming spicebush, and the mosses and lichens were thriving in times of darkness and cold when everything else was cold and bare.

The metaphor of the overstory and understory weighed upon me as I hiked.  Everyone pays attention to the overstory, the majestic trees is where all the awe is, and certainly, where all the logging dollars come from.  We as druids are drawn to the oaks, the hickories, the ashes, the beeches.  These are impressive trees, standing tall, forming groves, offering us shelter and strength.  But yet, winter comes and these trees go dormant, they grow quiet, and they grow still.

And while the entire overstory was dormant, it is the understory trees that are bringing life and vitality in the winter months.  The understory trees are seen as less valuable and important both in terms of magical traditions and in terms of human uses.  But standing there in that forest, I realized how wrong that perception was.

Rhodadendron overlooking the stream

These understory trees are often overlooked in our lore and in our practices.  But they should not be.  They teach us the lessons that we desperately need in a world that is growing ever more dark and cold.  I–and many others–are under no illusion that our culture is far from a place of high summer or growth.  The cost of three centuries of industrialization and stripping the land of resources is coming due.  Samhain is upon us as a culture, and we are entering into a time that will be quite dark and cold for humanity.  I don’t expect that this will change for the rest of my life, but rather, things will likely continue on this downward trajectory (don’t take my word for it, pick up John Michael Greer’s Not the Future We Ordered or any other peak-oil/industrial decline book and read for yourself).

My own path of druidry has, in a large part, been figuring out how to inhabit the world as it is, accepting what I can and can’t change, and helping bring forth a vision of a better world for the future descendants. The questions I often ask myself are: How do I live in a world that is in decline, that is continuing to put all life at risk, and still stay sane?  How can I thrive in this time and bring hope and peace?  As I walked through this powerful, vibrant understory–I realized that nature had already provided such a powerful lesson in this regard: learn to take advantage of times of darkness.  Be opportunistic.  Bloom when everything else is dying and the heavy frosts set in.  Be flexible. Learn to become evergreen.

So to me, embracing these understory trees that manage to thrive–even blossom–in such a dark and cold time gives me hope.  Let’s consider a few of their specific lessons:

Witch Hazel in Flower, late October

Witch Hazel that blooms in the winter. I’ve written before of my thoughts on Witch Hazel and how this tree offers the critically important lesson of becoming a good ancestor, and the work of preparing the way for our descendants (physical, spiritual, or otherwise).  Witch Hazel offers hope.

Ironwood, a symbol of strength and endurance. The lesson of the Ironwood I just shared–this is literally the strongest tree in the forest with the absolute densest wood.  A wood that literally turns an axe aside when it is struck.  If that isn’t a testament to the endurance and strength needed as we move forward in this age, I don’t know what is!  And finally,

Mountain Laurel and Rhododendron, with evergreen leaves and brighten the dark. I haven’t yet gotten to share my research on Mountain Laurel or Rhododendron yet–but it is coming soon.  These two understory trees add not only greenery and beauty to the forest, but they also brighten up dark places and bring light and hope back in.

Spicebush, blooming early and strong. Our spring entrant into the understory trees and plants category is Spicebush.  Spicebush has one of the earliest bloom times of any plant in this part of North America, often blooming while the snow is still on the ground and with other early entrants like Skunk Cabbage.  Spicebush flowers begin to set fruit just as the first leaves come onto the plant, allowing it to make the most of the late winter and early spring sun.  Rise and shine!

Electric Green Moss, teaching us to make the most of opportunity. One of the most wonderful books I’ve ever read is Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer. In this book, she shares the many stories of the moss, and some human interactions–good, bad, and otherwise–within.  As I look at the beautiful electric green moss, which takes advantage of the opening up of the canopy to grow and thrive, I can’t help but think about the permaculture design principle: the problem is the solution.  Facing a problem allows us to consider inherent solutions that might yet be present.  The moss takes advantage of the winter to grow and thrive when everything else is dormant and dead.  That’s a lesson worth experiencing.

The understory might be overlooked in mythology and in the druid tradition, but if offers rich rewards for those who seek its wisdom.  I want to spend more intensive time considering, studying, the rich lessons that the understory has to offer.  I hope this has offered some insight to you!  What are your own experiences with the understory?  How does the understory change where you live?

The Butzemann (Magical Scarecrow) Tradition at Imbolc and through the Light Half of the Year

Last year’s butzemann, dressed in her finery (Technically, she was a Butzefrau!)

For the last three years, I’ve spent part of my Imbolc celebration making a Butzemann for our land.  The Butzemann is a really interesting tradition from PA Dutch (German) culture called the Butzemann (literally, Boogieman).  In a nutshell, the Butzemann is a magical scarecrow that protects the land for a season.  He is created at Imbolc from natural materials and given clothes and a heart. At the Spring Equinox, the Butzemann is shown the property and the breath of life is breathed into the Butzemann, naming him/her for the season.  Then the Butzemann is displayed prominently throughout the season to protect the and.  Before or on Samhain, the Butzemann is burned and the protective spirit is released and then at Imbolc, a new tradition begins. Today I thought I’d share this tradition with my readers, in case they also wanted to build this tradition into their celebrations.  The time is right to start thinking about creating your Butzeman for the coming season!

As I mentioned, this tradition comes to me from a few sources: the Pennsylvania Dutch heritage that is part of my ancestry, talking with local people about how they construct scarecrows in my region, and also some of the fabulous research of the Urglaawe community, who have been working tirelessly to develop a PA Dutch heathenry and who have done much research on the folk traditions surviving in Pennsylvania.

Pennsylvania is a very magical land. With the founding of Pennsylvania, William Penn offered more religious tolerance than could be found in most parts of Europe during the colonial era.  Thus, we had large groups of Germans (PA Dutch or PA Deutsch) among other radicals like Quakers and Shakers settle in Pennsylvania. As you drive through Pennsylvania, it is not uncommon to see pentacles and pentagrams protecting houses or hex signs on barns.  Even as you drive through the countryside, you can often see the scarecrows (Butzemann) in the fields, homemade and protecting the crops. And of course, we have the most famous weather prognosticator in the land: Punxatawney Phil, the magical groundhog!  These traditions were passed on in small ways through my grandmother to me, and I’m proud to continue them as part of my own spiritual path.

When the Butzemann tradition was taking root in Pennsylvania and being adapted from the old world, most of the people living here were farmers or depended in part on raising their own animals and growing their own food to feed themselves.  Having a blight strike the crops, having animals sicken and die, or having a drought could be the difference between thriving and starvation during the long winter months.  Given this, doing magical work to protect the home, the land, the crops, and the animals was central.  Even if you don’t have crops or farm animals to protect, you can certainly create a Butzemann to protect your home or place of dwelling.  As a homesteader with many bird flocks and gardens, this tradition is an extremely important one to my own practice and something I do every year.

In my own research, I have found that the Butzemann tradition has many different varieties here in Pennsylvania. In speaking with several of my German friends from Germany, I have also been told that this tradition has a number of approaches in Germany.  One of my German friends told me that I could certainly make a “Butzefrau” (a female Butz) if I preferred!

Imbolc: Constructing your Butzemann

The Back of the Garden Butzemann!

The first step is to construct your Butzemann at Imbolc. I like to go through the woods and our fields and glean dried grasses, corn cobs, gourds, and so forth to make my Butzemann. Sometimes, I gather these in the period between Samhain and the Winter solstice if I feel led, or sometimes I just gather them in the week or so leading up to Imbolc. This includes anything leftover from the garden, straw, etc. You can also create a lifesize Butzemann by sewing old clothing shut and then stuffing your entire Butzemann with straw.  This kind of Butzemann looks great watching over a garden!  Really, there is no right or wrong way to construct your Butzemann except you want to explicitly use materials from the land where the Butzemann will be protected if at all possible and everything should be natural so that it can burn.

Here are some of the features of a traditional Butzemann as you are constructing yours at Imbolc:

  • The Butzemann is constructed or filled with herbs, leaves, straw, sticks, and other natural materials from the land over which he will protect.  This is very important–he must be physically connected and constructed from the and.
  • The Butzemann is given clothing (regular size or smaller that you sew) out of natural materials that can burn.  You can also give him a hat.  Remember that all of the clothes on the Butzemann are burned at Samhain, so keep this in mind. The clothing is the first “gift” to the spirit who will reside in the Butzemann.
  • The Butzemann is given a heart  (I like to use a dried nut or acorn for this) to help bring the Butzemann to life.  You can put additional symbols, sigils, or words on the heart to assist the Butzemann.
  • If you want, you can put other things in the Butzemann (runes, ogham, prayers, slips of paper, and so forth) to help with protective magic and enchantment
  • The Butzemann should have some representation of eyes, ears, a nose, and a mouth.  This helps him have all of his senses, which is necessary for protecting the flocks, home, or land that he is placed on to guard.

As you are creating your Butzemann, a name may come to you.  Or, it may come later as we approach the Spring Equinox.  At this point, the Butzemann is not yet a magical creation–it is just the shell.

Spring Equinox: The Breath of Life and Protecting the Land

So much harvest thanks to the protection of the Butzemann!

The Spring Equinox is the time where the breath of life is breathed into the Butzemann and where he goes from being a simple shell to a house for a protective spirit that will guard your land for the coming season.

The first thing that is done is that the Butzemann is ritually named and a good, protective spirit is welcomed in.  You can create your own ritual for this or you can use this one from the Urglaawe community.  The steps of the ritual are:

  • Open up a sacred space (being aware you will be moving through your property)
  • Breathe life into the Butzemann (literally breathe or blow on the Butzemann); this invites a good spirit to enter and stay for the season
  • Give the Butzemann a name (see naming, below)
  • Close the space.

As the second part of your ritual, you should walk your Butzemann around the property he is to guard.  Then, place him somewhere prominently so that he can see the area he is to guard clearly.  It is good to make regular offerings to your Butzemann, speak to him by name, and visit him as the season progresses.  This helps establish reciprocation between you and the guardian spirit of the Butzemann.

Naming conventions: The Butzemann tradition has some very specific naming conventions.  Each generation of Butzemann you create takes not only his own name, but the names of his predecessors.  The naming conventions are a bit tricky, so I suggest looking at this link  for more detailed information.  In a nutshell, the first generation will have a name with “der Nei” indicating the first. Everything after the first generation (each year you create a Butzemann) will have additional names and the first generation name with “san” (the family name).  Example:

  • Year 1: Gerania der Nei
  • Year 2: Thyme Gerania Geraniasan
  • Year 3: Sage Thyme Gerania Geraniasan
  • Year 4: Parsley Thyme Gerania Geraniasan

Samhain: The Burning

Burn Butzeman, burn!

Burn Butzeman, burn!

At or before Samhain, your Butzemann must be burned.  At Samhain, the Butzemann’s spirit will leave and if you do not burn it, a bad spirit may take up residence.  Thus, you should burn your Butzemann before the end of Astrological Samhain.  I like to build a sacred fire as part of my Samhain festivities.  When it is time to burn the Butzemann, I begin by scattering some of the season’s herbs into the fire as an offering, also sharing my gratitude and thanks.  I carefully place the Butzemann on the fire and watch the Butzemann burn.  I put the ashes in the garden, and wait for Imbolc to return.

The Cycle Begins Again

After Samhain, we reach the full cycle of the Butzmann tradition.  The flocks are snug in their coops while the snows fall, and the land once again falls asleep.  But as soon as the sugar maples start running, the Butzmann tradition can be born.  Since we started doing a Butzemann here on our homestead, we have noticed a difference: less challenges with predators, abundant harvests even through a drought, and a general presence on the land that supports everything we do.  I think this is a wonderful tradition to start and continue, and I hope some of you will consider it!

Another Butzefrau! This is a design I like a lot 🙂

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.

Herbs for Visionary Work at the Winter Solstice

Plants are our medicine, our teachers, our friends, and help us connect deeply to spirit in a wide variety of ways including through spiritual work. Long before recorded history, our ancient ancestors used plants of all kinds. Ötzi, the ancient ancestor who was preserved in ice and who lived between 3400 and 3100 BCE, was found with multiple kinds of plants and mushrooms, including birch polypore (a medicinal mushroom) and the tinder fungus, a mushroom often used for transporting coals starting fires.  I love plants, and I love the ancestral connections and assistance that they can provide. In more recent history, we can look to a variety of cultures that use plants in ways that help alter or expand consciousness.

What better time to do some deep visionary work than at the winter solstice, when the world is plunged in darkness? It is in these dark times that we can look deeply within, work with the spirits that guide us, and have insights that help us more deeply understand the world and our place in it.  It is in this darkness that we can go for visionary walks (including in the long and dark nights), do spirit journeying, and engage in other forms of divination or communion with the living earth.

What are visionary herbs?

Visionary herbs are those that can help us with deep spirit journeying, deep meditations, and the kinds of self-expression that lead to deeper awareness. There are at least two categories of visionary herbs.  One category is what are traditionally called the teacher plants, the ones that cause radical shifts in consciousness and awareness.  These are the plants with the strongest effects and include a variety of psychedelic substances including strong herbs and mushrooms. While these plants were once quite illegal (at least here in the states), laws in the last few years have really become laxer and allowed these plants to be more accessible. I’m not writing about this group of plants today, but there are certainly books and resources out there about them if you want to learn more.

The visionary herbs I’m talking about today are milder, legal herbs that can help us shift our consciousness and vision, but that are less potent. To me, the difference between the two is that the teacher plants will take you on a journey whether or not you want it and requires pretty much nothing on your part–once you take teacher plants, you are on the journey of whatever kind it is for the duration. The visionary herbs I’m discussing today are milder and are more like aids or companions. Many of these visionary herbs have spiritual and mental effects that may make you more open, aware, or attuned at the moment, and are tied to helping bring the subconscious and intuitive sides forward.

The herbs I will share about today come from both teachings given to me as well as from my own experiences and connections with nature. Some of these herbs require you to build a relationship with them, while others will simply open the doors for you regardless of how long you have been acquainted. All herbs for any spiritual purpose work better when you have a relationship with that herb. Think about it like this–you meet someone, and you have a great conversation over a cup of tea. You think to yourself, wow, this person could be a great friend to me! That initial experience is wonderful. Ten years later,  you are sitting with your long-term friend and have that same cup of tea. The nuance and interaction is much richer–you can give each other just a look, or say a single word, and there is much more meaning. You’ve created a shared history together, and that history connects you on a much deeper level. This is why we build relationships with these visionary plants over time–the longer you have a relationship with a plant species (or even more ideally, the same lineage of plant or same plant), the depth of what you can do together grows.  When I say the same lineage of plant, what I mean by that is either the same plant from season to season (perennial plants) or the daughter and grandaughter plants born from the seed of your first plant.  These don’t have to just be plants you grow, but can be plants that you visit regularly.  Building plant relationships takes time, but it is time well spent.

Visionary Herbs for Awareness, True Sight, Memory, and Relaxation

So many different plants can go on this list, but for our purposes today, I’m going to share two plants from four different categories that I find are useful for visionary work.  You can agree or disagree, and in the comments, I’d love to hear your suggestions for plants that you have used.  I will also say that there are a lot of plants that *could* go on this list, but I’m only offering those that I have direct experience with over a period of years.

Herbs that Open up Awareness: Mugwort and Ghost Pipe

Our first set of herbs are those that open up our awareness and give us new perspectives and vision. Perhaps we need to see things from a new angle, rethink patterns of behavior and belief that have caused us difficulty, or do shadow work within ourselves. My favorite two herbs in this category are mugwort and Indian ghost pipe.

Mugwort: Artemesia vulgaris

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

Long used as a dreaming herb and smoke cleansing herb, mugwort helps with any kind of meditative or subconscious work.  Within both psychology and the occult traditions, there is an acknowledgment of the multiple selves within us.  One interpretation is that we have a rational self, that self that is “in our heads” and that typically we are projecting when we are out and about in the world.  This is the thinker, the doubter, the one that can hold a career or do math. The second self we have is our intuitive self, the self beneath the layers of rationality (and there are many of those layers), perhaps the one that comes out during meditation, spiritual work, and other deep practices.  This is the self that is where our intuition resides and is a bridge to the many subconscious and unconscious realms within us. The third self is the spirit self, the piece of us that transcends death and that reincarnates, the self that is connected to everything else. Connecting with this self and other spiritual powers is one of the goals of most spiritual traditions and practices. I believe that channeling the awen through bardic arts or doing journey work are ways to help the intuitive self bridge to the spirit.  This long explanation is to say that mugwort is very, very good at helping us with this kind of work. Mugwort not only helps us have more vivid, intense, and lucid dreaming but also connects with those deeper selves, which leads to a more fruitful understanding of ourselves, our world, and our connections to all living things.

Indian Ghost Pipe: Monotropa uniflora

Ghost Pipe from the Plant Spirit Oracle

While mugwort helps bridge to the deeper selves, Ghost Pipe is particularly good for working with the rational self. The rational self is the product of a lot of outside influences: people’s external pressures about how we should behave, what we should do, what we should say, etc.  Sometimes, we end up living to the expectations of others rather than following our true path. Ghost pipe is very good at helping us slog through those layers and get to the heart of the issues at hand. Thus, ghost pipe offers us distance, perspective, and new understandings.  The best way I can describe this is with a metaphor of the forest and the trees. We live our lives on the ground, in the middle of the forest. Some of us might be walking a clear path in that forest, and others might be wandering (by choice or not). Ghost pipe helps temporarily lift us out of the forest and let’s us see the broader picture–it helps us expand our perspective.  I will note that due to overharvesting, Indian Ghost Pipe should be used *ONLY* as a floral essence.

Herbs that Aid with Seeing Clearly: Eyebright and Blue Vervain

Another thing that we need to do is see clearly.  Perhaps our own past experiences cloud our judgment.  Perhaps our past traumas and experiences prevent us from being able to clearly see what is before us.  Perhaps ongoing things in the world have put us in an emotional place and we need to break free.

Eyebright. Euphraise Officinale, Euphrasia spp.

Sometimes, the magic is in the name of the plant itself, and that is certainly the case with Eyebright.  On the physical level, eyebright helps strengthen the sight and the eyes, and many people take it as a healing herb for this reason.  But this same medicinal action happens on the level of our spirit, where work with eyebright helps us to see true.  We can see to the heart of things, to the heart of issues, and that true sight offers us new ways of being, healing, and inhabiting the world.

Blue Vervain. Verbena Hastada

Blue Vervain from the Plant Spirit Oracle

Blue vervain is a visionary herb that does essentially two things.  The first thing it does is allow us to let go of those things we cling to too tightly (e.g. things have to be a certain way, maybe a bit of OCD we are harboring) and instead, it allows us to go with the flow.  It thus connects us with that deeper, intuitive self by giving the rational self a bit of ease and relaxation.  Blue vervain works over time, so it’s particularly good to start taking it in some form and keep taking it for a while to get it to work for you in this way.  Once we are able to let go of the things we cling to, we are offered new visions and ways forward.  The second way Blue Vervain works is by putting us more in touch with our emotional side.  Blue vervain always lives by water–it understands how to help us navigate our difficult emotions and offers vision beyond them.

Herbs that Sharpen the Mind and bring Focus: Lavender and Rosemary

Sharpening our mind and our focus is something that we can all benefit from.  These herbs seem even more critical after nearly a year of long-term trauma from the global pandemic when many are now suffering the effects of overload, burnout, and more.

Lavender. Lavendula Spp.

Lavender is a herb that helps bring focus and clarity. It has a very gentle action that promotes the body to relax while the mind focuses.  This is an excellent combination for meditation and spirit journeying–bringing the mind into a place where it’s not going to wander while you are attempting your visioning work, while also bringing the body into a place of calm and tranquility.  Other herbs do this well too  (Lemon balm is another solid choice), but I think lavender is particularly good at bridging that mind-body connection that is necessary for powerful spirit work to take place.

Rosemary. Rosmarinus Officinalis.

Rosemary from the Plant Spirit Oracle

Rosemary from the Plant Spirit Oracle

Rosemary has long been associated with memory and remembrance.  If you are doing memory work of any kind, Rosemary is an excellent ally (including ancestor work, as linked above). Rosemary strengthens our memory and encourages us to use our memories in new ways, shaping them, and storing them.  Rosemary is particularly good for memory mansion work, using method of loci techniques that have been handed down by masters from the ages.  If there is a memory you want strongly to retain or a memory you want to bring back, rosemary is your guide.

Herbs that relax the Body and Release Tension: Kava Kava and Passionflower

Our final set of herbs can help foster a deeper sense of relaxation and allow us to go more deeply into sacred dreaming, meditation, or simply relax more fully.

Kava Kava: Piper methysticum.

Kava Kava is the only herb on my list that doesn’t grow in the US East coast, but I wanted to include it because there is nothing else like it–and because you can ethically source it from small farms effectively in Hawaii, thus supporting sustainable farming practices.  Kava Kava is a deeply relaxing herb, working on both the mind and the body. When you take kava in either tincture or tea form, it somewhat numbs the lips briefly. That same effect is later passed onto the body–not so much numbing, but taking away pains, deeply relaxing the muscles, and putting you into a relaxed state.  I like to use Kava Kava as part of my spiritual practice when I’ve had a long day and that day has really gotten into my body–I am carrying the worries of my day or my life in my physical body.  This means that I get literal aches and heaviness, and that makes it difficult to do spiritual work.  Kava helps me relax into myself and allows the spiritual work to flow.  (If you take a lot of kava, you will be impaired at driving, so please keep this in mind).

Passionflower: Passiflora incarnata

Passionflower is an outstanding nervine plant that helps our nervous system relax and thus, our bodies relax.  Passionflower is one of many nervines, but I find it particularly good for relaxation when the goal is spiritual work.  Part of it, perhaps, is that it is such an otherwordly flower–looking like the full moon on an enchanted evening.  But also, each different nervine has their own unique qualities–and passionflower helps one get into that place of calm so that the world of spirit can flow.  In a temperate climate, you can grow it yourself by keeping it as a vine in your home during the winter and then letting it grow wildly during the summer, offering it trellising.  Cut it back when the frost comes and bring it in for the winter months.  After a few years, your vine will produce many flowers and later fruits each year–which are an absolute delight!

Obtaining visionary herbs

Obviously, if you are going to use any of these herbs, you have to figure out the best way to obtain them. If you can grow them or harvest them yourself, this is probably the best thing you can do because it helps establish a deep relationship. I would pick one or two herbs that you really want to work with and cultivate them–even a pot on a windowsill can produce a beautiful rosemary or lavender plant! The alternative is to try to get them from an ethical, organic grower.  You don’t want conventional (read – chemically sprayed) herbs for any of your visionary work. The chemicals themselves can harm the spirit of the plant.  These plants are used to working with humans as friends and guides, and the spraying of poison on them really damages that relationship. So please, please be careful about ethical sourcing and chemical-free plants when you are sourcing herbs.  I would also be very careful of the “wild harvest” label, particularly for at-risk plants like kava or ghost pipe.  Wildharvested is often not sustainably harvested, so you want to be careful.  Places that are good for sourcing herbs are small farms like Black Locust Gardens or larger, ethical companies like Mountain Rose Herbs.

Taking visionary Herbs

You have a number of options for working with and taking visionary herbs. I’ll list the options, and which herbs might be best for each option.  All of the herbs I’ve listed are safe and non-toxic, so you can do a lot with them.

Rosemary smudge

Smudges and smoking blends: Mugwort is commonly used in smoking blends and smoke clearing sticks (smudge sticks).  Lavender and rosemary also work great in smudge sticks or incense blends.  Here, the idea is that you burn the plants and inhale the smoke–either in the air around you (with incense/smudges) or by smoking it in a sacred way.  For smoking, a little bit goes a long way!

Teas. Many of the plants on this list make excellent teas: mugwort (brewed briefly, too long and it gets bitter), rosemary, lavender, kava kava, and passionflower are all good choices.  Blue vervain is a very bitter herb, so I suggest using it as a tincture instead.

Infused oils. Any of these herbs are great as an infused oil, which you can then rub on your body or temples for spiritual work.  See my instructions for how to create an infused oil here.

Tinctures. Any of the herbs can be made into a tincture with a long shelf life. Alcohol, vinegar, or glycerine make good menstrua for making a spiritual tincture.  Alcohol and vinegar have an indefinite shelf life while glycerin lasts about a year. The tincture is easy to make and I have instructions here.

Flower Essence. This is the only way I recommend using Indian Ghost pipe because of serious challenges with overharvesting this plant in recent years.  To make a flower essence, you’ll have to seek out the plant when it is in bloom (in my region, that’s usually late June to late August) and do a simple flower essence.  Here are instructions.

Conclusion

I hope this post has offered you some new tools for working–and embracing–the darkness during the period of weeks before and after the Winter Solstice.  There is something extremely magical about this time that allows us to dig in deeply with ourselves and do important work.  Blessings of the Winter Solstice!

Deepening the Wheel of the Year and Wildcrafting Druidry

What is amazing about this wonderful planet we live on is the diversity of ecosystems, weather, climate, and life.  This diversity, however, can be challenging for those looking to adapt druidry or other nature-based spiritual practices to their practices.  Particularly challenging is the concept of the wheel of the year, especially if trying to apply the wheel of the year in a non-temperate climate setting. Thus, today’s post extends some of my earlier discussions about wildcrafting your own druidry, which include developing your own wheel of the year; in considering the role of observances, activities, and rituals; and in developing distinct symbolism for your work.  I’m going to continue this discussion today by talking about a further way to work with a seasonal approach from a wildcrafted and observational way and continue wheel of the year development!  So let’s get going!

The Wheel of the Year and Why It Might Not Fit Your Practice

Late fall sunrise and mist over the homestead

For many, the wheel of the year in a standard sense with standard meanings (see here) is problematic and troublesome, not always fitting or holding meaning in their practice.  This is for at least two reasons. First, I have found that in working with new druids to adapt their practices to their local ecosystem, the idea of thinking in “four seasons” can be really limiting. Druids in a variety of ecosystems not have four seasons so the eightfold wheel may not make sense. Second, even those living in areas that traditionally did match up may now be seeing changes as climate change is causing changes to our ecosystems and weather.  Things are not what they were 100 years ago, or even 25 years ago.

The entire principle of the wheel of the year is that it is a modern mash-up of a set of old agricultural holidays from the British Isles, put together in the 1960s by Ross Nichols and Gerald Gardener. This wheel of the year construction fits parts of Eastern North America and Europe, certainly the British Isles, and allowed both Druidry and Wicca a set of consistent practices. Thus, if you live in an area that has four distinct seasons (temperate regions of Europe and North America), chances are, it might make some sense to you. But more druids live in regions that do not fit this cycle, making it challenging to create meaning. The wheel of the year has two pieces:

The cycle of the sun: The solstices and equinoxes are ancient holidays celebrated by many peoples across time. They are entirely determined based on the cycle of light and dark, which is a constant on our planet. In other words, regardless of what is happening on the earth, we can always use the path of the sun and the light in the world to observe the light of the sun and year.  While it is important to note that the available light impacts weather, there are also things that are happening on the earth that can be accounted for.   Regardless, in AODA Druidry and in other traditions, the times of greatest light (Summer Solstice), greatest darkness (winter solstice), and the two days of balance (fall and spring equinoxes

The cycle of the earth: The specific weather, the waxing and waning of blooming, rain, frost, or fog is all dependent on where you live.  This is where things often become more challenging for people who want more than the cycle of the sun as part of their own localized seasonal observances.  The first challenge is that while we think in distinct seasons.  But that’s not really accurate. In the land, changes happen slowly and the landscape gradually changes from one thing to another.  It’s just like a sunrise or sunset–humans have named distinct parts of the day as night, dusk, daylight, and twilight–but these are full of smaller transitions, each moment being distinct.  You will experience those states, but you’ll experience a lot in between.  The second challenge is that because we have terms for seasons (spring, summer, fall, winter), we tend to try to fit the world into the terms we create.  That doesn’t always work. In other words, we’ve been conditioned so much to think about seasons in terms of the four, and stepping out of that conditioning to really deeply observe may actually benefit us deeply.

The Wheel Challenge: Your Ecosystem for Year

 So what do you do? How you develop a holistic and realistic wheel of the year that makes sense for you and your situation?   I would suggest rooting it in observation and interaction with the living earth–hence the “wheel challenge.”  Here’s the basic practice:

  • Spend time in nature or with nature as close to where you live as possible (e.g if you have a daily hiking trail in a local park, use that trail.  If you have a backyard, use that backyard).  The goal here is to get you as close to nature at your own home as possible.
  • Try to observe nature at least twice a week for 10-20 minutes.
  • Keep some kind of record of your observations: photographs, videos, sketches, journal entries.
  • In observing, note anything that changes: bloom times, snow melting, fogs rolling in, etc.  the goal is to document what is happening in your ecosystem so that you can identify any “seasonal shifts” that occur with regularity.
  • Try to disavow yourself of the regular notions of “seasonality” e.g it is spring so these things happen and instead, simply observe

This approach doesn’t require much of a daily investment and can be built into existing spiritual practices (like spending regular time in nature, daily meditation, etc). But for me, this approach reaped extremely rich rewards.

Golden hickories of mid fall!

I’m posting this at a time when we have finished the growing season for the year (just after Samhain) and thus, the seeds of the new year are upon us.  I started my own practice of observation a year ago, last Samhain, which made sense as the clear demarcation of the end of the previous agricultural season and the transition to the next. By all means, though, start whenever you feel inspired.

My Example: The Unfolding of the 12 Phases of the Four Seasons

I spent the last year doing this the above challenge. I took daily walks on my landscape, I documented bloom times, took photographs, and also visited my tree (from the Tree for a Year challenge), and spent time regularly in my Druid’s Anchor spot  I also noted any time that I could really sense a “major shift” in my landscape (for me, this was first light frost and first freeze, budding of the trees, first snow, the first summer storm, etc). At the end of the year of observation (this past Samhain), I asked: Which observations or events led to major shifts in the landscape? What seasonal markers seemed present?  What is their timing?

This practice reaped rich rewards in several different ways. First, I was able to document most of the blooming plants on our property; I took photos, compiled information, and learned a lot more about where I live.  I identified several new edible and medicinal plants I did not know before. I also found one critically endangered plant, a rare form of Jacob’s Ladder. My nature knowledge really increased by focusing my energy in this way and spending more time photographing and documenting things systematically.

So much wonderful food in the greenhouse!

So much wonderful food in the greenhouse!

Second, I was able to develop a 12-fold pattern of the seasons.  I learned that each of the four seasons had three phases where I live–so I’m actually looking at a pattern that is twelvefold (or 3 within 4) rather than a basic four-season pattern here in Western PA.  I am so excited about this discovery and it is going to really help me add a new layer to my wheel of the year.  Now, my plan will be to celebrate the seasons in a 12-fold way. Here is my draft of my revised wheel of the year based both on what is happening in my local ecosystem as well as what is happening on our homestead.

Spring

  • Early Spring: Maples stop running and bud out, signifying the beginning of spring.  Nettle and skunk cabbage emerges.  Occasional snows and cold temperatures, ice, and freezing rain, with many days above freezing.  A bit of green can be found on the land.
  • Mid Spring: Cool-season crops (brassicas) can go in the ground (in the greenhouse and outside with cover).  Herbs start to emerge in the garden.  Perennials start to come out across the land.  Kayak can come out on a warm day. More trees bud and leaves start to unfurl.
    • The Spring Equinox usually marks a turning point to mid-spring (but not always).
  • Late Spring: Hawthorn blooms, marking the end of the frosts and freezes.  The last frost passes by mid-May.  Planting out warm crops and planting seeds. Dandelions, wild violets, and serviceberry bloom. Wild apple flower.
    • Beltane coincides with the blooming of the hawthorns and the arrival of late spring.

Summer

  • Early Summer: Garden is fully planted and begins to take off.  Harvest peas and spring greens.  Leaves are fully out and “full”.  Oaks bloom.
  • Mid Summer:  Perennial herbs are ready for first harvest (yarrow, lemon balm, catnip, parsley, and more).  Cukes and beans are ready to start canning.  Clovers and herbs growing strong.   Black raspberries start to ripen.  Elderberry flowers.
    • The Summer Solstice usually marks midsummer.
  • Late Summer (Lughnasadh): The land is at its peak; gardens are full and abundant.  Sunflowers and Jerusalem artichokes begin to bloom.  Tomatoes start to ripen. Start seeds for fall cool-season crops.  Wild blackberry and wild blueberry crops are abundant.  Mayapple fruits ripen. Bonset and Joe Pye weed bloom.  Elderberry ripens.
    • Lughnasadh usually marks the peak of late summer.

Fall

  • Early Fall: Goldenrods and asters start to bloom and the land turns golden.  The apples start to drop from the trees. The first dying back is noticeable as grasses and plants go to seed.  We can tomatoes 3x a week.  Fall crops go into the gardens.  Joe Pye weed starts to go to seed.
  • Mid Fall: First light frost happens and gardens start to die back.  Fall crops go into the greenhouse. The asters continue to bloom.  Harvest squashes, gourds, and pumpkins as the vines die back.  Leaves begin to change.  Acorns start to drop and continue throughout mid and late fall.  Towards the end of mid-fall, Chestnuts drop.
    • The Fall Equinox usually marks mid-fall.
  • Late fall: Late fall is marked by the first freeze or hard frost (under 30 degrees).  This radically transforms the landscape as nearly everything dies back.  Maples and cherries are bare, oaks begin to go crimson and gold.  Garlic is planted.  The days grow noticeably shorter. We have to set up heated waterers for all of the flocks.
    • Samhain often coincides with the arrival of late fall.

Winter

  • Early Winter. First snowfall (most years), freezing rain, and ice.  Nights are often below freezing but above freezing.  The land is brown and bare as even the oaks drop their leaves.  The days are dark and cold as we approach the winter solstice.
  • Mid-Winter.  After the winter solstice, “winter” really sets in. This is the coldest and darkest part of winter and comprises the latter part of December and all of January.  We start getting snowstorms and sometimes, polar vortexes.
    • Winter Solstice marks the start of midwinter
  • Late Winter. The start of late winter is firmly marked by the running of the sap of the maple trees.  Temperatures go above freezing during the day and below freezing at night.  We have plenty of snowstorms and cold.   Towards the end of late winter, you might even see a skunk cabbage sprout popping up through the snow.
    • Imbolc often coincides with the beginning of late winter.

Now that I have this general pattern figured out, I can spend the next year really mapping much more specific things to this pattern.  When exactly does the robin show up? When does she have her young?  When do the flocks of birds start congregating for the winter?  Before I had these tied to a simple season (spring, fall, etc) but now, I can tie them more explicitly to my 12-fold seasonal wheel, which is exciting.   So I will be repeating my “wheel challenge” for this upcoming year to refine my wheel and add more details to each of the different areas.

The other thing that I’m now thinking about is that I’d like a celebration to mark each of these twelve.  I have added in the 8-fold holidays (which I do celebrate) to this wheel, as they fit ust fine, but, with a 12-fold system, I am missing what is essentially the “beginnings” to each of these seasons. So this next year, I can start thinking about how I want to celebrate and mark each of the “early” points.  It seems like the first one to plan is the “first snowfall” celebration to mark the start of early Winter.

Dear readers, I hope this is useful to you as you continue to think about how to deeply adapt your practice to your local ecosystem, develop wildcrafted and ecoregional druidries, and rewild.  I would love to hear how you’ve been creating your own wheel of the year.  Blessings!

Rest, Retreat, and Balance at the Fall Equinox

I don’t know about you, but 2020 has been a hell of a year.  Usually, the Fall Equinox and the coming of the dark half of the year is a time for celebration, as Fall is my favorite season. But this year, the idea of moving into the dark half of the year when so much has already been dark is hard.  We have so much loss, death, employment insecurity, health insecurity, food insecurity, sickness, political unrest….the list goes on and on. Here in the US in particular, things are really difficult and many are dealing with basic issues to security, including financial security, food security, health security, and obviously, a lot of isolation. So, given these challenges, I think its important to fall back on our spiritual practices for nurturing, support, and grounding and embrace what the season offers. The Fall Equinox, as a time of balance, can help us bring those energies into our lives. The light and dark are balanced, reminding us to work to balance those energies in our own lives. So in the rest of this post, I offer some ideas for those who are solitary this season for potential practices, particularly surrounding rest and balance.

Contemplating Darkness and Embracing Rest

The fall equinox is a time when, for the briefest moment, we have balance. The balance between the light in the world and the darkness, when we stand equally within the dark and the light. I love the Fall Equinox because, like the Spring Equinox, it is a gateway.  In this case, in the Northern Hemisphere, we are walking through the gateway from the light half of the year, from the time of planting into growth, into a time of harvest and then, of rest.  Darkness isn’t a bad thing, its just different than the high light of summer (I wrote about some of these differences a few years ago and how to embrace the darkness as it comes).  I also think its important to realize that nature’s darkness is a different kind of darkness than we might be facing culturally.  Nature’s darkness is a time of rest, of rejuvenation, and of completeness.

At the same time, it’s also important to note that the darkness is hard for many: the energizing quality of the sun as it wanes can be difficult.  Many people suffer from seasonal affective disorder, and the thought of going into the winter months with the cold and dark can be difficult.

Given all of this, I think that’s one of the things to focus on during this season in particular: rest and slowing down. If we consider traditional agricultural calendars and holidays (which much of the druid’s wheel of the year is based on), the Fall Equinox helps us continue the harvest season (which begins at Lughnasadh and ends at Samhain) and moves us into the season of quietude. As a homesteader and sacred gardener living in Western PA, we have four seasons, and the late fall and winter really do provide a time of rest.  It is dark early, the animals hunker down, the perennial plants go into their hibernation, the woodland creatures hibernate, and the annuals drop their seeds.  Our garden is tended and put to bed.  Our garden, which is always a source of labor and joy, goes into slumber. And then, we can all rest for a bit before the season picks back up in the spring.

An Outdoor Rest Ritual

A place of rest

A place of rest

On the theme of rest, you can do a simple rest ritual for your fall equinox celebration. The first is a rest ritual.  Its pretty simple: take a blanket and go into the woods or a wild place of your choice.  I like to be near running water for this.  Open up a sacred grove or circle in your tradition and then place your blanket in the middle of the space.  Lay down on the blanket.  First focus on physical relaxation and deep breathing: starting at your feet, work to tense, and then relax each part of your body, working your way up to your head.  As you do this, attend to your breath, coming into a quiet breath meditation.  After this, just rest.  Work on the absence of activity, of thought, and simply be at peace.  Doing this, even for 10 or 15 minutes, can really help you slow down and relax.  If being absolutely still doesn’t work, try just observing the natural world around you and give your conscious mind something to focus on.  When you are done, thank the spirits of place, and close out the space.

I do want to stress that you can do this ritual indoors (and I’ve done so with good effect) but I’ve also found that it is much more effective if you do it outside somewhere if at all possible. Laying on the ground allows you to really soak in the telluric energy from nature and that has a nurturing quality to the body, mind, and soul.

Druid Retreat

Playing on the theme of rest, I have long advocated for druid retreats (of any duration–from a few hours to a few days) as a spiritual practice, and these are something that I really think can benefit us in these challenging times, particularly in the spiritual preparation of heading into the dark half of the year among so much cultural darkness. This is an excellent time for one–the Fall Equinox is still usually pretty warm out and you can go camping, rent a cabin, or even just retreat into nature for a few hours.  I have written extensively on how to take a longer druid retreat (Part I and Part II) for more details on a longer retreat.

Even if you can’t do a longer retreat, consider a shorter retreat of a few hours.  The most important thing here is that you set your intentions and just go and be.  Spend time with yourself, looking inward, and working on the things you can control (we can always do self-work, even when the world is spiraling out of control around us!)

One of the things I did recently in this theme was doing an overnight kayak trip, a retreat from the difficulty of everyday life.  My sister and I went overnight on the Allegheny river, taking our trip the weekend before the fall equinox.  Packing minimal gear, we camped on one of the public wilderness islands in the Allegheny that are open for primitive camping.  My favorite part of this trip was sitting in the brisk morning watching the sunrise over the water.  It was really nice just to disconnect for two days and spend time with water, wildlife, sun, and good company.

Retreat on the Allegheny River

Resiliency was a key theme for me as we were on our retreat–it was helpful to meditate on the theme of resiliency, what it means to me, what qualities that I have that can make me more resilient, and how I can move forward despite some extremely challenging circumstances at present.

Gratitude Practice and Ritual

I think because of these challenging times, we are all tending to focus on what we are missing or how things are hard or scary, not what we still have or are grateful for. One of the things I’ve been doing throughout this challenging time is to ramp up my gratitude practices.  I want everyone and everything in my life to understand how much I value them. Gratitude practices can be as simple as taking the time to thank those in your life (human and non-human alike).  Offering practices, shrines, and other nature-honoring practices (see link above) can also be a fantastic way to offer thanks.

One of the things you might try is committing at the Fall Equinox to a daily gratitude practice and bringing gratitude more into your central awareness.  Here’s what I suggest:  in a ritual space, begin by focusing your meditations on the idea of gratitude.  What is it to you? How does it manifest? How does it make you feel when someone is grateful for you? What does it make you feel when you express gratitude to others?  Once you’ve done this, write down everything you are grateful for in a list.  Now take that list and divide it into days between the Fall Equinox and Samhain (about 6 weeks) and divide up your list across those six weeks.  Each day or every few days, you will have something or someone on your list to express gratitude for.  Make this a part of your life for the next six weeks and see what happens.

Spiritual Tools and Healing Herbs

Some of the nicest hawthorn I have ever harvested — found on the recent retreat!

A final tool I want to mention the theme of rest and rejuvenation is to seek out herbal healing allies during this time.  Here in our ecosystem, we have a number of plants that are ready to harvest at the fall equinox: Goldenrod (anti-histamine and anti-inflammatory), New England Aster (lung support), Hawthorn (for the heart and emotional heart), joe pye weed (for supporting the kidneys and gallbladder), and so much more.  Learning about one or more plants in your ecosystem, how to make sacred medicine from them, and harvesting them is a wonderful practice.  I’ve written extensively about this, so check out any of these posts:  Sacred medicine making at Lughnasa, A druid’s guide to herbalism part I &  part II, preparing flower essences, how to learn more about herbalism.  One of the things that I especially like to do this time of year is to create smoke cleansing sticks for spiritual purposes–smoke cleansing traditions appear in many traditional cultures and certainly have a role in many modern druid practices.  I have offered instructions on my blog for the basics as well as extensive lists of plants you can use if you live in an ecosystem similar to what I have here in Western PA!

One practice I can suggest is thinking about one thing that plants could help you with in the coming dark half of the year (if you need suggestions about plants or ideas, post in the comments and I’m happy to help!) Create yourself some sacred plant medicines and spiritual tools with the intent of using them to assist you with these challenging times and the coming dark half of the year.   Here are a few ideas:

  • Working on emotional healing and resiliency – Hawthorn tincture or glycerate
  • Focusing on grounding – acorn infused oil
  • Working on clarity of thought – ginko leaf and/or lavender tincture
  • Clearing away dark energy or thoughts – cedar and sage smoke stick

You get the idea!  The list I offered above are spiritual tools you can craft and use for these challenging times.

Conclusion

I hope this post has found its way to you in a time when you needed it and that you have a blessed Fall Equinox. I’d love to hear other ideas for what you are doing this particular fall equinox to strengthen and prepare for the dark half of the year.

 

 

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!

A Walk Through a Sacred Garden

View of some of our gardens at Lughnasadh!  Here you can see our main garden (on the left, annuals) and the meditation garden (on the right; smaller perennials). We also have other perennial patches we are cultivating on other parts of the property.  And of course, our wonderful greenhouse in the center!  Behind the greenhouse is a compost tumbler.  In front of the greenhouse, you can see our duck enclosure (more about that later).  Towards the back in the center, you can see our guinea/chicken enclosure and goose enclosure.  The compost area is off to the back left.

Today, we are taking a walk through the sacred gardens at the Druid’s Garden Homestead.  There are so many lessons to learn with a simple walk in a beautiful garden.  Today’s Lughnasadh garden walk reminds us of the power of nature to heal wounds, strengthen our spirits, and help us through challenging times.  For more on the creation of some of these gardens, please see the meditation garden with hugelkultur beds and creating our greenhouse from an old carport. You can also learn more about the principles behind this garden through sacred gardening principles as well as permaculture design. These principles are what we use to guide our decision making in the space.  With that said, let’s begin our walk….

The way I’ve written this article is that the main text in between the photos offer spiritual lessons, while the captions on the photos describe what you are seeing.  You might choose to read captions first, and then go back and read the main text.  It is a weaving of inner teachings with outer practices.

The mighty mullein, garden gaurdian, standing tall in the back of our vegetable garden!

The mighty mullein, garden guardian, standing tall in the back of our vegetable garden!  Mullein is a medicinal plant that can support the lungs (leaf) and also help address ear infections (flower).

Three sisters garden- corn, beans, and squash. We had trouble with corn germinating due to the drought.  Three sisters is an ancient technique used by the Native Americans to create balanced growth: the beans replace nitrogen in the soil, the corn supports the beans and squash, and all is abundant.

All gardens are always in the process of cycling and change. The cycle and progression of the season are constant.  Each season progresses through seed starting, planting, growth, harvest, and fallow times.  Gardening brings us powerfully back into the cycles and the seasons and reminds us to enjoy the moment, for the change is always afoot.  Plants bloom, they produce flowers and fruit, they go to seed, and they die or go fallow.  This cycle repeats again and again–both in the garden and in our own lives: times of new seeds being planted, times of growth, times of harvest, and times of passing on. Taking part in this in a sacred garden can help us have a deeper insight into these patterns and cycles in our own lives.

Upper garden beds just before the garlic harvest. Weeds got a little crazy this year, but the plants still grow!  We have alliums in our upper beds this year along with perennials: lemon balm, asparagus, strawberries, clove currant, and more.

Milkweed patch now well established in the meditation garden.  It took about three years for it to be this healthy and abundant–the caterpillars kept eating it to the ground. Milkweed is a fantastic edible plant with at least four different harvests–learn more about it here.  And of course, it is host to many butterfly and moth populations, including the endangered monarch butterfly.

While these larger cycles and seasons are always at work, each season is also uniquely different.  A single season is different than the year before, even if there are similarities and broader patterns. For example, this year, we’ve had one of the driest years on record (and two years ago, we had the wettest year on record) and are in a borderline drought.  From this, we learn adaptation, we learn how to grow with more heat and less water–it has been a hard summer.  We learn, for example, that certain plants thrive in this heat (sages, rosemary, monarda, mugwort) while others struggle (annual veggies, especially squash with broad leaves).  This is the nature of gardening now, with unpredictable weather patterns and climate change.  Just like other cycles we humans face–some of us struggle and some of us thrive, depending on the individual circumstances.  Seeing the land respond to this intense sun and heat has helped me respond to many intensities in my own life (and the lives of us globally at present). I learn to take on the quality of sage, basking in the seemingly eternal scorching heat and growing strong despite months with no rain. I learn to grow thick like monarda, to protect my roots with my leaves and flowers.  I learn to bask in the sun like rosemary, with small leaves that can withstand drought conditions. I learn the rest need a lot of water, and I am grateful for the spring that provides.  I learn to carry on.

A medicinal flower and herb polyculture in our meditation gardens: sunflower, poppy, feverfew, st. johns wort, pumpkin and tomato, zinnia, and probably some more!  Polycultures, made up of plants that grow in harmony, are beneficial to the land.  Most of these self seeded from last year and now the garden just flourishes.

Inside our greenhouse. You are looking at the back (north-facing wall) where we have a cob and stone heat sink wall to absorb heat during the day and relase it at night. The shelves hold our seedlings in the springtime. We have hot crops and long-season crops in here: this year, we have two gourds, our hardy fig, a number of white sages, tomatoes, and kale. Everything but the fig and Kale will come out in the fall, where we will plant late fall/winter crops.

Inside our greenhouse. You are looking at the back (north-facing wall) where we have a cob and stone passive heat sink wall.  This wall is most effective during spring, fall, and winter, where it absorbs heat during the day and releases it at night. The shelves hold our seedlings in the springtime and can store supplies in other times a year. We have hot crops and long-season crops in the greenhouse at present: this year, we have two gourds, our hardy fig, a number of white sages, tomatoes, and kale. Everything but the fig and Kale will come out in the fall, where we will plant late fall/winter crops.  I let the grass in the paths grow till late in the year, this will provide fresh greens for geese and our tortoise.

Another lesson as we walk through this amazing garden at Lughnasadh is the lesson of reciprocation. I write about this often because its a lesson that is lost to most in our present age. The sacred garden reminds us that we are always in a relationship, as equals, with the living earth.  We tend and honor the land, and the land provides our needs. We can cultivate this same kind of relationship with the garden: the soil web of life, reminding us of the interconnection with all beings.  With the seeds that I harvested from our spinach just this morning–the spinach died back leaving the seeds of hope for a new generation to be born, trusting that I will make sure those seeds are planted and tended. This sacred relationship is why, at Lughnasadh, a time of first harvest, we make offerings.  The philosophy is simple: an offering encourages reciprocal relationships rather than one rooted only in extracting resources.  While we tend and honor the garden, the garden tends and honors our spirits.

Our main garden with tomatoes, beans, potatoes, and chives.  We regularly rotate our annual beds and support the soil web with no-till gardening using sheet mulching. We have multiple supports for the tomatoes, which get heavy and like to fall over this time of year.  Beans are rotated in after the tomatoes to ensure nitrogen and other minerals are put back into the soil.  We top dress with compost each fall.

A walk through a sacred garden is perhaps best at Lughnasadh, at least here in our ecosystem in Western PA.  This seems to always be the time when the garden is at its peak: peak vegetation, so many fruits, and vegetables being ready to harvest.  The bulk of the harvest is still before us, and the plants are just abundant and full.  Its a good lesson and good energy now, when we are in such challenging times.  We are weary.  The garden opens up to us, welcoming us, encouraging us to stay awhile, sit with that amazing energy, and remember that this cycle too will end.

One of the most integrated parts of the garden: duck enclosure on a hill just above the main garden. The ducks require clean pools each day, so all of that duck water is dumped into the swale in front of this “wet bed.”  This is where we grow brassicas and celery and other crops that like it very, very wet!  The duck enclosure also serves as our blueberry patch–so we are stacking many functions with this space.  The bed never dries out, and has been a real blessing during this drought.  Putting the ducks next to the garden also provides us on two sides with a “duck moat” – the ducks eat bugs that would want to fly or hop into the garden and give us trouble.

The garden gander, Widdershins! He oversees everything that happens on the property and guards the land.  He also loves dandelion greens and grapes. If there’s any trouble, Widdershins’ powerful honk lets us know to come outside.

I hope you have enjoyed this walk through the gardens at the Druid’s Garden homestead!  There are so many lessons to learn and take from any garden you visit.

PS: I will be taking a short writing break from the blog for a few weeks. I have been asked to spend the next two weeks reviewing the galley proofs from my publisher for my book that is coming out in 2021 – Sacred Actions: Living the Wheel of the Year through Sustainable Practices.  I’ll see all of you in a few weeks!  If you have any topics you’d like me to cover when I get back, please let me know!