The Druid's Garden

Spiritual Journeys in Tending the Land, Permaculture, Wildcrafting, and Regenerative Living

Connection as the Core Spiritual Philosophy in the Druid Tradition April 16, 2017

It seems that religions or spiritual paths have a set of core orientations or philosophies that form the underlying foundation upon which the religion and practice rests. This core philosophy is like the seed from which the entire “tree” of the religion grows–the tree might branch in different directions, but all of those branches eventually lead back to that single seed. For example, in many forms of Christianity, we might see that core seed as salvation; this seed forms the bulk of Christian thought, belief, and action. In some forms of Buddhist thought, the seed is freedom from suffering. This underlying seed makes that particular path unique, form the foundation of what is considered right thought and right action on that path, give the path purpose, and that offers particular gifts to its practitioners or to the broader world.  And most importantly, this seed drives a number of underlying morals, values, and assumptions that practitioners of that path hold.

 

Seeds for new traditions!

Seeds for new traditions!

Druidry is many things to many people, and the joke is that if you ask five different druids about what druidry is, you’ll likely get seven different answers. As scattered and diverse as the modern druid movement seems to be–I believe, we too, have a core philosophy (with at least three expressions of that philosophy), and I’m going to explore this underlying seed of our tradition in today’s post.

 

Sources of Inspiration

The flow of Awen for this post comes from a few places, and I want to acknowledge those first. Part of my insight comes from being in a leadership role in a major druid order in the US. I serve as the Archdruid of Water in the Ancient Order of Druids in America, and in that role, I interact with a lot of different kinds of druids at multiple points along their paths. I interact with people when they find druidry for the first time–what they are seeking, what they hope to find, and later, I see them as they move through our curriculum deepen their own understanding and interaction and the insights they have. I get to read their exams at the end of their time working through parts of our curriculum–so I’m hearing of the experiences of many on the druid path who have taken up this spiritual practice in a serious way. Additionally, part of my inspiration is personal; it comes from my experience in working through the complete curriculum in two druid orders, the AODA (1st, 2nd, and 3rd degrees) and the OBOD (bardic, ovate, and druid curricula) and coming to deep understandings over decade of time about that work. Finally, I have attended and been part of a lot of gatherings, online groups, and various initiatives. This post represents a synthesis of what I’ve read and conversed with others, and what I’ve generally understood over a period of time. But there is also another piece here– I’m also considering the overall trajectory of the druid tradition itself–not what we are, or were, but where we are heading and what potential exists for druidry in the future.

 

Therefore, this post is my take on the seed of our tradition, the underlying or core philosophy that drives much of druid practice. You might disagree with me, or want to add or subtract from this list–please do so and share in the comments what your own thoughts about what your version might look like.

 

On the Druid Revival

To understand the underlying core philosophy of druidry, we first need to delve back into the history of the druid revival and then move into the present day.

 

It is no coincidence that the very roots of the druid revival came about at the same time that industrialization rose in the British Isles. Farmers and peasants who had lived, sustained, and tended the land for countless generations were driven from their homes to work in factories (see, for example, the “Highland Clearances” and “Enclosure Acts” in Scotland). During this time, the rise in machine-based worldviews, that is, that humans are machines (and cam work like machines, act like machines), and that nature is just another machine, became dominant (we see the outcome of this thinking everywhere today, particularly, in industrialized agriculture).

 

Our spiritual ancestors watched this scene unfolding: the land stripped of her resources for industrialization and progress, the growing emphasis on produced goods over communities, the rampant pollution and exploitation industrlization was creating, the relegating of humans, animals, and the land to that of a machine. It was during this time that our spiritual ancestors reached deep–and creatively–into their own history to return to an earlier time where humans and nature were connected. The druid revival movement sought to reconnect with nature through ancient roots in a time where society was heading in the opposite direction. I believe it is the same reason that people today are so drawn to the druid tradition–there is “something” missing for them and it is that connection.

 

Now, a lot of the early druid revival works and authors have been discredited for creating “ancient” texts, drawing upon “found” materials that they had created, I find these attempts to discredit them problematic because they do not understand their context. These early attempts at bringing back the ancient druid traditions had a lot to do with people’s response to living in an age that was quickly stripping the lands of their resources and filling the skies and rivers with pollution.  I think they were a bit desparate, and certainly, were working within the traditions of their age (and not ours). To me, the most important thing here is that druidry we practice today was descended from druid revival tradition and that tradition was a spiritual response that emerged during the very beginnings of this current age of industrialization. That means, these historical roots offers us much wisdom as we are living with the outcomes and consequences of this same industrial force.

 

Industrialization, with so much promise at the time, much harm not only to our living earth, but to the pre-industrial communities and customs of the common people (a topic I picked up in some depth in my last series of posts on “Slowing down the Druid Way”). It is unsurprising, then, at the persistence and growth of the modern druid tradition in these times. For over 300 years, the ancient druids have offered our tradition sources of inspiration and reconnection. It is in this perpetual seeking of reconnection that we can see how druidry is, in some ways, a very human response to the larger wheels of industrialization that have been thrust upon most of us in the Western world.  In other words, druidry is us finding our way “home.”

 

Overall Druid Philosophy: The Power of Connection

What our spiritual ancestors in the druid revival were seeking, I believe, was (re)connection, a way to have a closer relationship with the living earth and with their own heritage. And it is in this historical view I see as the core seed of the philosophy of the druid movement: connection. It is this same connection that draws so many to the druid path today and keeps so many of us practicing this spiritual tradition.

 

Interacting with nature, learning the plants

Interacting with nature, learning the plants

In the modern druid movement, it is through the power of connection that we rekindle and learn how to cultivate a sacred relationship with nature, how to find our own creative gifts, and how to practice or path in a way that brings us wholeness and joy. When people come to the druid path, this is what they often are seeking. (As an aside: interestingly enough, there are at least two “denominations” of druidry, while all are descended from the druid revival traditions, in the 1970’s, and some went on to seek to reconstruct ancient druid practices and teachings. I think that these two currents of druidry do still share an underlying core philosophy of connection, even if it manifests incredibly differently and may not have the same three expressions I share below).

 

In this way, druidry is a direct response to the disconnection that those living in westernized culture have experienced: seeking to reconnect with nature, with our own gifts, and with ourselves. So now, I’m going to walk through three expressions of this underlying philosophy of connection through nature, connection to one’s creative gifts, creative arts, and connection to one’s spirit.

 

Connecting to Nature

To say that the druid path of nature spirituality is about nature perhaps seems like an obvious thing–but it is more than just being “about” nature. I can read books “about” nature and never step in the forest, I can understand in my mind many things about nature and her systems without ever connecting with nature through the heart. This does not give me a connection to nature, but simply some disconnected facts about it. When people ask what druidry is about, the first thing most share is that it is a path of nature spirituality, that it embraces nature and relationship to nature at the core of its path, or that it honors nature through various activity (like seasonal celebrations). And yet, an individual druid’s relationship (and aspired relationship) towards nature is multifaceted.  I see this nature orientation having at least three different aspects:

 

Nature is sacred.  One of the key aspects of the druid tradition is the inherent worth and sacredness of nature. When interacting with nature, many humans focus on what is in relationship to us, that is, how does nature help us? What do we get out of it? As one begins to delve deeper and deeper into the druid path, I have found that a lot of that orientation shifts from “what can nature do for me” to “nature has inherent worth.” I see this in the mentoring work I do in the AODA–people begin taking up this path without any clear sense of the role of nature in their lives, but after a few years of druid study, observation, seasonal holidays, and the like, they have a profound shift in their oreintation towards the living earth. The shift here is not just in seeing nature as something that has value to us because it offers us something (which, of course, it does) but rather, valuing nature simply because it exists and because we are a part of it.

 

Sacredness implies care and connection: we have deep respect, reverence, and awe concerning nature. We see it as something to be protected, preserved, and cherished. In the same way that other spiritual paths may see a shrine as holy, or a city, or a church, we druids see the living earth, her systems, and all life upon her, as sacred. As part of this sacredness, druids recognize the importance of living in harmony with nature and that nature provides all of our needs.

 

Relationship to Nature. When we think of how humans treat a sacred thing, a couple of possible iterations occur. One is that we might put it on a pedestal (literally or figuratively) and admire it from a distance, keeping it safe and secure. Although some conservationists take this approach (for very good reasons), this is typically not the orientation that druids take towards the living earth. Instead, most prefer to cultivate a sacred and powerful relationship with nature by interacting with her, connecting with her, smelling the roses and touching them and learning how to tend them effectively instead of just observing them from afar. Part of this relationship is that nature offers us teachings and deep understandings when we connect. This may involve regular visits to natural places and simply being “in nature” and various ceremonies in natural settings. Many druids take further, working to tread more lightly upon the earth and live sustainably, participate in active healing of the land, planting trees, and more.  Relationship implies that we not only take but also give back.

 

Connecting to Nature’s cycles.  Another major part of the orientation towards nature is becoming an active observer and participant in the cycles of nature. And nature has many cycles through which we can observe and participate cycles of the celestial heavens (the cycles of the sun or moon) that are tied to the land (seasons).  These might involve the cycle of nutrients through plants, fungi, and soil, or even the cycles of water upon the land.  The cycle is a critical part of the way that druids think about nature and build our sacred holidays and sacred activities around it, as is gardening and foraging and other such activities.

 

And so, connection with nature is certainly at the core of the druid tradition, but there at least two other pieces of connection that also seem central to this path.

 

A simple awen painting I did a while ago

A simple awen painting I did a while ago

Connecting with One’s Creativity and the Flow of Awen

A rekindling of our creative gifts, the bardic arts, and our human gifts is a second core part of the druid path.  In fact, one of the core symbols of revival druidry, and a term we chant in our rituals, is “Awen” (another Welsh term pronounced “Ah-Oh-En”). Awen means “creative and divine inspiration.”  It was “Awen” that flowed through the ancient bards as they crafted their stories and songs and delivered them to audiences all over the British Isles.  It is Awen that flows from an inspired pen, hands, and body as we learn to once again express ourselves and be whole.  It is the “Awen” that has been systematically stripped from us as we allow commercialized creations to take the place of our own.  And it is the inspriation of Awen we seek as we reconnect with our own creativity gifts and expressions.

 

Let’s again tie this to how druidry itself came to be and what it responds to. Industrialization and modern commercialization and commodification teach people how to be good consumers rather than provide for one’s own needs.  Today’s entertainment industry is a trillion dollar affair. Our core birthright, that of telling our own stories, songs, poetry, dance, music, visual arts, sacred crafts–have been stripped away by these industries.  We pay for mass produced entertainment as commodities rather than create it ourselves. It is a sad thing, I think, to sit around a fire with a group of people in the 21st century and sit in silence because nobody knows what to do or how to entertain themeslves (insetad, the pull out the cell phones!). The fire is silent, the stories and songs are stilled–the Awen has yet to flow into the hearts and spirits of those there.  But each person has an inherent ability to let the awen flow–through music, drumming, dance, song, stories, artwork, woodwork, and so many more things.  In fact, if you come to a druid event and you’ll see a different kind of thing: a vibrant Eisteddfod (a Welsh term pronounced EYE-STED-FOD). An Eisteddfod is a bardic circle, a chance to share one’s creative gifts with a larger community, and it is one of the many ways that the druid path encourages people to reconnect with their own creative gifts.

 

If you come to a druid event and you’ll see a different kind of thing: a vibrant Eisteddfod (a Welsh term pronounced EYE-STED-FOD). An Eisteddfod is a bardic circle, a chance to share one’s creative gifts with a larger community, and it is one of the many ways that the druid path encourages people to reconnect with their own creative gifts.

 

Connecting to Individual Truths and a Personal Path

Most traditions have a set of core teachings, a sacred book, and a big part of the transmission of that tradition is to teach these materials to others and ensure that the set of beliefs and rules are followed by practitioners. In druidry, nature is our sacred text, and each human’s relationship and interaction with is different–we live in different ecosystems and climates, we are engaged in different kinds of work with the land, different cycles and seasons, and different needs. Because of this, we recognize and cultivate the development of and pursual of a personal path, and in the druid tradition, these differences are celebrated rather than minimized. If you join a druid order descended from the druid revival, we do have some common frameworks and practices, of course.  In AODA, we have a common set of practices that gives us a framework; these include celebrating the solstices and equinoxes, working the sphere of protection, engaging in lifestyle changes, planting trees, observing nature, discursive meditation, and practice of the druid, ovate, and bardic arts.  However, the specific expressions of a particular member’s own inner truth are central to the way in which those practices manifest, and are central to what additional practices are taken up.

 

This is to say, druidry is a spiritual path that takes creativity, inspiration, and work: it is up to the individual to establish his or her own personal practice, his/her own personal cosmology, and no two druids are the same.

 

And so, while most religions tell you what to believe and how to believe it–this is not the case with Druidry. I have found that this particular aspect of the druid tradition is really difficult for new druids and non-druids to wrap their heads around because to them, “religion” or “spiritual practice” requires adherence to a rigid, prescribed set of beliefs and behaviors.  It takes a lot of conversation to explain the difference, that a religious practice could actually be something different. The question, “What do druids believe” doesn’t seem to be right question to ask (but it is the question that most people start with). Two druids likely have the same larger philosophical orientations (as shared here) but not necessarily the same specific belief systems with regards to the nature of divinity, the possibility of life after death and reincarnation, the belief in spirits, and so on. For many druids, there are some common themes, but these common themes don’t extend to all druids.  But what certainly seems to extend to all druids is the seeking of a personal path and connecting with that personal path at the core of one’s being. And this is an honored and sacred thing within our own tradition.  (And so, better questions might be “what do you as a druid belive? or What do you do?)

 

I see this finding and following one’s own path as inherently connecting kind of work: you develop a personal druid path by exploring your own meanings and what resonates with you, what connects to your own beliefs, your lifestyle, the work you feel you are to do in the world. It is through exploring these connections that you are able to settle upon a set of beliefs and practices that ring true. The more that you practice, the deeper those connections become. You might think of this like a path through the forest–there is underbrush when we begin, but the more we walk the path and establish what that path is, the easier the path becomes and the more it is open to us.

 

A Triad of Druidry

You might notice that my own presentation of the “connection” philosophy in druidry comes in a three-part form. The following is a triad of this presentation (a triad common teaching tool in the druid tradition descended from Welsh tradition, it is used heavily in the OBOD’s teachings).

Three philosophies of druidry:

Connecting to nature

Connecting to our creative gifts

Connecting to our souls

 

It is through the connection to nature that we can be inspired, foster our creative gifts, and ultimately, find our own paths deeper into ourselves and our core beliefs, practices, and work in the world.

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Sacred Gardening through the Three Druid Elements – Designing Sacred Spaces and Planting Rituals December 5, 2015

A representation of the 3 druid elements

A representation of the 3 druid elements

A number of people have asked me for ceremonies and activities that help facilitate sacred work on the land in various ways. Why would we want such ceremonies? Quite simply, because we can get the most effect by combining actions out in the world with ritual and other forms of magical practice on the inner worlds. For many years, I’ve been using my  druidic practices to help my work with plants and gardens. So in addition to the practical work of growing my own food on my homestead, practicing permaculture, regenerating lawns, and building a healthy ecosystem, I designin with the elements in mind, performing land healing and garden rituals, and engage in other sacred practices.  These two parts form a cohesive whole that unifies spiritual practices with everyday living.

 

Today, I’d like to share the first of a series of  posts on principles from the druid tradition that can be used both for designing sacred garden spaces and for simple rituals and sacred activities that can be used with gardening. And because I’ve decided to spend some extra time in my art studio in the winter months, so I’ve done my best to provide some illustrations for this post :).

 

The Three Druid Elements: Nwyfre, Calas, and Gwyar

In order to craft effective ceremonies to support sustainable activities, we need an underlying theory that helps us work with various flows of energy.  The Druid Revival has a set of three elements (we like to do things in threes) that are quite useful to understanding and enacting some sacred space rituals and building sacred spaces. A lot of current pagan and earth-centered practices use four elements, and there is so much out there about the four elements already, that I don’t really need to say a lot about those (and they are effective and useful for sacred gardening practice–see my elemental tree planting ritual here, for one such example).

 

The three elements are worth considering as an alternative or used in conjunction with the four elements, especially in regards to nature spiritual practices surrounding the land.  These three terms use Welsh words and pronunciations (like many other things coming out of Revival Druidry). They do not cleanly map onto the four elements, so don’t try to see them that way. See them, instead, as an alternative elemental system that emphasizes different properties of the world–all elemental systems do that, generally–they serve as an archetype of things that we can see or experience or know.  They are three archtypes, three ways of representing the inner and outer worlds of our experience.

A second representation of the three druid elements

A second representation of the three druid elements

Nwyfre (NOOiv-ruh): This first druid element is represents the life force and consciousness within each living being.  It is associated with the sky and the heavens; it represents the spirit of things; the mind.  The term means “sky” or “heaven” in the Welsh language.

 

Nwyfre in a gardening/growing/land healing context refers to the spirit of life flowing through each of the plants. This is the spark of life that encourages a seed to grow; it is the magic within the plant; and in some forms of herbalism, this would be the spiritual energy of the plant and the plant spirit itself. Nwyfre is not a physical thing (like Gwyar or Calas, see below); it is the spirit behind the physical thing. Nwyfre is often what we refer to when we talk about things unseen, “energies” of spaces and people.

 

Nwyfre is also the mental processes associated with gardening–its the design work, the thoughtfulness, the planning and careful consideration.  Its the feeling you get when you enter the garden; its the awareness that is awakened with a sacred connection to the plants.

 

Gwyar (GOO-yar) – This druid element represents the principle of flow, of movement, and of change. It is associated with the energy of the water (although is not limited to it); it represents the change that is inherent in all living things. The term means “flow” or “fluidity” in the Welsh language and we can refer to it as energy flows (in physical manifestation) of all kinds.

 

Gwyar is responsible for the change we see in the plants across the season; its the growth of the seed from spout to adult plant and finally into decay; its the flow of the seasons moving ever forward. Gwyar is the flow of the sap in the maple trees that first signals spring; its the growth of the plants; the budding and leafing of the trees; the ripening of the fruit; and the eventual composting and decay at the end of the season. Gwyar is the flows of nutrients in the great soil web of all life.  It is the principle of Gwyar we see in photosynthesis, the conversion of light into energy and oxygen by plants. For homebrewers, it is gwyar that allows the physical fermentation and transformation of grains or fruit into alcohol. It is this principle of flow in herbalism, also, that allows the medicine to move from the plant matter into a menstra (for tea, tinctures, etc). When permaculture designers talk about “catch and store energy” we are referring to harnessing the Gwyar in the land for common good (through rain barrels, swales, solar power, and so on).

 

Calas (CAH-lass) – The final druid element is Calas, representing solidity or substance. Calas is that which is the physical manifestation of things within the world: their form, their substance, and their features that help distinguish them. This is the welsh word for “hard” or “stability.”

 

Calas is the physical being of the plants in the garden, the soil, the microbial life.  It is Calas you feel when you pick up the rich soil and run it through your fingers. It is Calas that is the feeling of your tools in your hand (although its Gwyar that makes those tools work!). Its Calas that is in the vegetables sitting in your harvest basket and ready for your plate. All of the physical manifestations of your garden; the solidity of the pathways, the size of the beds, the physical structure of the plants; the weight of the stones–these are Calas.

 

Mapping the Elements onto the World

You can map these elements onto another triad in the druid path–the triad of earth (calas), sea (gwyar), and sky (nwyfre).  If you are interested in working with these three elements, I would start by suggesting that you spend time meditating on each of them and also spend time examining these principles at work in the world.

 

For example, as I look down my street, I see the Calas in the pavement, in the trunks of the strong trees, in the physical body of the people walking there.  I see Gwyar in the rain falling on the street, in the movement of the branches in the air, in the swinging of the hands and walking of the people.  I see the spark of Nwyfre in the laughter of the children crossing the street holding hands in the rain.

 

Sacred Bee

The bee embodying the three druid elements

As a second example, we can think about the honeybee.  The honeybee’s physical body (legs, wings, abdomen, exoskeleton, eyes, tongue, and so on) represent Calas.  The honeybee’s flight and movement in the hive represent Gwyar.  The magic alchemical process that allows eggs in the hive to have the spark of life, the magical process where nectar is transformed into honey, and the blessing the bees bring to the land all can be represented in Nwyfre.

 

I would suggest that if you want to use these three principles in your sacred gardening work, magical practice, or daily life, you spend time with each of them.  Spend time focusing on one, meditating on one, writing about it, maybe sketching it or creating a song, and observing it in everyday life.  Do the same with the other two–while these three elements are simple on the surface, profound understanding can be found with dedicated study and work with these elements. Now that we have some understanding of the principles behind the three druid elements, we can consider how they can be put to work in a sacred garden space.

 

Using Nwyfre, Gwyar, and Calas in Garden Designs

The other way you can use these elements is by considering their role in the garden design process and think about integrating them physically into our spaces.  Let’s look at two such garden designs where these three elements can play a prominent role.

 

1. The Herb Spiral

The herb spiral is probably the most quintessential design from permaculture; the spiral is built up so that the top of the spiral is above the earth by several feet, making it drier, and as the spiral goes down, it has various small microclimates.  Some spiral designs (including mine here) include a water feature at the bottom.  I like the herb spiral a lot, as its simple to implement, encourages us to think about the plants and their microclimate needs, and looks great.

 

From a magical perspective, we can apply the three druid elements easily into this design: the spiral itself representing nwyfre; the stones, earth, and plants representing calas; and the flow of water and areas of wetness and dryness as well as the encouraged growth habits based on placement through gwyar.  There’s also a really good reason to put a standing stone at the very top, buried 1/3 of the way into the soil–stay tuned for my next post for more on the inclusion of the standing stone.

The Sacred Herb Spiral, complete with standing stone and sacred pool

The Sacred Herb Spiral, complete with standing stone and sacred pool

You’ll notice in this design drawing I’ve included a number of different herbs, many of them both magical and medicinal.  The top of the design starts with the herbs that like it hot and dry–rosemary and white sage being at the top of that list, perhaps with a bit of accompanying garden sage or clary sage.  From there we move into thyme and dill, who can handle it a bit dryer, along with echinacea (purple cone flower), a wonderful medicinal.  Basil or lovage, too, would work wonderfully around this spot.  Chives, chamomile, and calendula (along with others, like New England Aster) fill out the bottom.  Next, we get to the pool’s edge.  Mountain mint and boneset are two water loving plants that would like that spot, as would any other mint.  Finally, the pool itself can contain horsetail (especially if you are using sand in your pool) or calamus, two rooted and water loving plants.  This design can be modified to your own herbal interest and specific ecosystem.

 

2. A Larger Sacred Garden Spiral

We can expand the idea of the herb spiral to create a larger sacred spiral garden in which things more than just herbs grow.  Here’s a simple design for one that honors these three elements as well as recognizes the importance of an 8-fold wheel.

Larger Spiral Garden Design Inspired by the Three Druid Elements

Larger Spiral Garden Design Inspired by the Three Druid Elements

This design is flat, and the stone walking pathways (or mulched paths, etc) form the basis of the design.  I’d keep the beds in the spiral no more than 3′ across; its harder to manage a bed wider than that (I speak from hard-learned experience!)  The center of the garden offers a standing stone (more on that in my upcoming post) as well as a sacred pool with calamus and horsetail.  The edge, like the design above, is for water-loving plants, and then any herbs you want to grow work their way outward from the spiral.  The outer edges (which can continue on, beyond what I drew) can be home to perennial berry bushes, brambles, etc, as well as rotating annual vegetable crops.  I really liked the nettles there, at the entrance, serving as guardians….so many of our forests have those kinds of protectors, and stinging nettle is not only a great guardian of spaces but an incredible medicinal and tasty food!

 

So now that we’ve looked at the three elements in design work, let’s see how we can use them for prayer and planting.

 

A Garden/Land Altar Using The Three Elements

Setting up a sacred space and acknowledging the presence of the elements is an important step; its a way to encourage us away from the strictly practical and into the sacred.  Another way of doing this in an existing garden space is to setup an altar for the three elements.  You can use a flat stone or stump, and on it, place a stone for calas, for example; a bowl of water for gwyar, and some representation of nwyfre (a symbol like a spiral or an awen or else some herbs/incense (sage, mugwort, or lavender are my favorites, but you can also use any blend of herbs that have a strong connection with planes beyond the physical).

 

An alternative is to create a living altar, where you can use three plants to represent them: an earthy or rooty plant for calas (burdock, comfrey, dandelion, or any garden mushroom or mushroom log would be perfect here), a water plant like calamus, horsetail, boneset, mountain mint, arrow root, and so-on for gwyar, and a plant associated with the spirit realm (sweetgrass, sage) or strongly with the sky  (a climbing vine like nasturtium) for nwyfre.

 

A good way to choose symbolism for your altar is to meditate on each of the three elements and/or do a free association with them in order to come to a deeper understanding.

 

Three Element Daily Prayer

A daily prayer at your three element altar can be simple and yet effective. I might come into the garden and say this prayer at morning’s first light or before I begin to work in the garden.

“Calas, the form and the shape
Gwyar, the flow and the change
Nwyfre, the spark of life
Sacred elements spiraling
Bless this [garden’s/land’s/place’s] growing”

As you say the prayer, pause after each line.  You can touch the elemental representation on the altar as you pause.  Then, for Calas and Gwyar use your 5 senses closely to see how that element is manifesting in the garden at each moment. Nywfre will require your inner senses, but it too can be sensed in various ways.

 

A Simple Prayer for Growing Things – A Three Element Blessing

This prayer, or another like it, can be used to encourage many things to grow, anything from sprouts on your counter or seeds you have started to the planting of a new garden.  I use this prayer this after planting my first sets of seeds in the fertile earth, transplanting seedlings, or putting in new trees or shrubs.

Say: “May the essence of the earth support you in strength.”
Action: Pour a small bit of earth or finished compost over the growing plant/seed/tree. Alternatively, if you are planting seeds, plant them at this time.  As you are sprinkling the earth or planting the seeds, chant “Calas” three times and envision the seed’s deep roots and the fertile earth supporting it.

 

Say: “May the flows of the land transmute you in harmony.”
Pour a small bit of water near the roots of the growing plant/seed.  As you are pouring, chant “Gywar” three times and envision the waters flowing to the seed and the seed’s growth and change.
Say: “May the spirit of life bless you in wisdom.”
Smudge the plant with a bit of herbal incense (I like sage, mugwort, rosemary, or lavender for this purpose; see my post on smudge sticks for more ideas).  As you are smudging, chant “Nwfre” three times and imagine a spark of life shining outward from the center of the seed to facilitate its growth.


Say:
“May the triune essence of Calas, Gwyar, and Nwyfre bless infuse you with blessing and abundance.” and chant “Awen” (Ah-oh-en) three times to close out the ceremony.

 

Concluding Thoughts

As you can see, the three elements of the druid tradition represent a wonderful opportunity to work on a sacred level, creating sacred gardening practices.  These kinds of practices truly contribute to a “druid’s garden!”

 

Introduction to Permaculture: Terminology and The Ethical Triad December 26, 2013

Sustainability means “the capacity to endure.” I use the concept of sustainability broadly in introducing the work that I’m doing as part of my Druidic path—people understand that term, what it means, and are  immediately able to have some idea of where I am coming from. The reason I turn to the concept of sustainability (rather than eco-awareness, green living, environmentally-friendly or other terms) is that sustainability implies a set of actions and an end goal, whereas “green” and “eco” are now mostly associated with a set of products to be purchased. Avoiding consumer-based terms is especially important since the worldview and actions behind consumerism are huge parts of the challenge we face in creating more sustainable futures. In this blog post, I’m going to discuss the terminology and principles that are associated with sustainability, in particular, explore the connections between druidry and permaculture that give us both an ethical system and a set of core ways of interacting with the world.

 

Two Australian designers, Bill Mollison and David Homgren, coined permaculture, or “permanent culture” in 1978. Permaculture is a design theory, a set of principles that we can use to help us design anything from a simple landscape or organic garden, to a building, and to a community of people living and working together. When I first encountered the concept of permaculture through a book called Gaia’s Garden: A Guide to Home-Scale Permaculture by Toby Hemenway (2009), I thought it was one of the most Druidic books I had ever read. This book helped radically shift my view and deepen my own Druidic practice by observing nature, using nature’s forms, recognize the cycle of nature and nurture that cycle in my own life, and so much more.

 

In Permaculture: Principles and Pathways beyond Sustainability, David Holgren (2002) outlines three core tenets for permaculture. These three tenets (which form what I am calling an “ethical triad”) are useful for building more sustainable societies and align closely with much of the ethics and practice of Druidry.

Permaculture Triad for Druidry

Permaculture Triad for Druidry

 

Care for the Earth.  Caring for the earth, including respecting and preserving the earth’s biodiversity, understanding the web of life, and being stewards of the land, are of key importance within permaculture. Within “care for the earth,” we consider things like James Lovelock and Lynn Margulis’ Gaia Hypothesis (reference), a scientific hypotheses that suggests that earth is a whole organized system (isn’t it nice to know that science has finally caught up with 1000’s of years of human spiritual understanding?)

 

As Druids, “care for the earth” is at the core of our practices.  It allows us to care in multiple senses—have reverence and respect for but also engage in direct actions that demonstrate our care. This principle also lends itself well to the divine belief systems of animism, pantheism, earth-based deity, and the earth mother, as well as seeing the earth as spiritually as well as physically connected. I have found that care is certainly a concept worth reflecting and meditating on in our own spiritual and life practices, and its one we’ll come back to in future months.

 

Care for People. Permaculture does, inherently, recognize that people are part of the earth too, and that we have basic needs that must be met, although there are better and worse ways to meet those needs. Care for people also recognizes that we are not set apart from the world, but rather, we are at one with it. This gives us personal responsibility for our actions, and responsibility in taking care of ourselves, our families, our communities/tribes, and our world. Concepts like self-reliance, resilience, making use of what resources already exist also come into play under this ideal.

 

Much of the practices of Druidry—meditation, self reflection, self improvement, building tribes and communities—also about care for people. A sense of “non-material well-being” is critical to care for people according to Holgren (year, p #). The principle of non-material well-being is part of our spiritual tradition—we value the intangibles, the arts, and the things that have little to no material wealth in our current culture, and we also learn to better value ourselves.

 

Set limits and redistribute surplus. Different permaculture authors describe this final principle in various ways; Holgren (year) suggests that we “set limits to consumption and reproduction and redistribute surplus” (p#), and it aligns well with Druidry. First, it affirms that there are limits to what our lands can sustain and that setting limits within our own lives, communities, and broader world is important for sustainable change. To understand more about our world’s limits on a larger scale, I highly recommend the book The Limits to Growth: 30-Year Update (Meadows, Randers, and Meadows, 2004).

 

This third principle also recognizes, however, that the earth is abundant, and with proper care and tending, she can produce so much for us. I’m reminded of the principles of limits and abundance each year in the fall; the hickory tree in my yard produced an abundant harvest of hundreds of pounds of amazing nuts. I could go and pick every last nut, but if I did so, there would be no nuts for the squirrels and chipmunks that depend on hickory as a major food source. I set a limit of gathering nuts to once every other day; this allowed us all to have our share. Permaculture design therefore, focuses on understanding balance—a lesson we Druids are reminded of every solstice or equinox.

 

Redistribution of surplus is not a value understood and enacted in our present culture beyond basic understandings of “charity” work, but it is a principle that is at the core of sustainable societies. Redistribution doesn’t just refer to money, but rather anything that can be recycled and reused in new ways. A forest is a perfect example of a closed redistribution system—nothing at all is wasted in a forest. The trees fall and are host to bacteria and lichens; these break the remains of the tree down into fertile soil; nutrients in that soil is taken up by plants, which are eaten by animals, and who die and are returned to the soil, and so forth. Permaculture design asks us to see everything in our lives, every object, scrap of food waste, and so forth as something that we can redistribute rather than throw away. Nothing truly goes “away” as the earth itself is also a closed system. The druidic principle of the cycle and circle is particularly useful here.

 

Holgren (2002) suggests that redistributing surplus was actually one of the reasons that so many indigenous traditions (including our spiritual ancestors) gave offerings. It was a sign of giving back, of recognizing the harvest and honoring the land, spirits, and gods who allowed that harvest to happen. In my first article, I suggested that one of my offerings was living a sustainable life—this too is a way of redistributing surplus.

Conclusion. These three tenets within permaculture can help us understand and enact more ethical, sustainable living within the world around us. The principles are useful as themes for meditation, as mantras, and as providing us with an earth-centered ethical system. In addition to the three principles, permaculture has twelve principles to help us enact these tenets in sustainable ways, and  I’ll be exploring these over a series of blog posts in the upcoming year.

I would also love to hear from you—how might you be living these principles in your life, either consciously or unconsciously?  How might we extend these practices in various ways into druidry and other earth-based spiritual practices?

 

Successful Intelligence- A Triad for Druidry and Sustainability December 13, 2012

A triad of trees under the moon

A triad of trees under the moon

Psychologist Robert Steinberg describes three kinds of intelligences that we need in order to solve the many problems of the world.  These three intelligences are:

 

  • Creative intelligence: intelligence required to develop solutions to problems and formulate new ideas
  • Analytical intelligence: intelligence required to solve problems and to assess the quality of ideas (this is traditionally privileged in
  • Practical intelligence: intelligence that is needed to actually implement ideas effectively in a variety of settings

By being able to balance these three intelligences, Steinberg argues we can have “successful intelligence.”

 

In druidry, we sometimes use “triads” as a way of teaching. This stems from a much more ancient practice within Celtic society, where even the laws themselves were written in a triad form.  I’d like to propose a triad that incorporates these three kinds of intelligences, and the need to balance them.  The triad is:  Three intelligences one needs to be successful: the ability to dream new ideas, the ability to assess those ideas, and the ability to effectively implement them.

 

Like any good triad, these three intelligences have implications for both druidry and sustainability.  When we think about these intelligences in terms of druidry, they do line up to some extent with the three “grades” of druidry (to use OBOD’s terms) and the three exploration areas of study of druidry (to use AODA’s terms). Creative intelligence is obviously the realm of the bards, as it is the realm of idea formulation, thinking through ideas, brainstorming etc.  Analytical intelligence seems to belong to the ovates, in that seclusion and study can lead us to developing greater insights; there’s also the importance of assessing and weighing the validity of an idea (which can delve into the arts of divination).  Practical intelligence, or making change in the world, seems to be in the realm of the druid. (Although I could see arguments suggesting that analytical intelligence line up with druid studies, and practical intelligence line up with ovate studies; regardless, the “triad” in thinking is still there).

 

I think these ideas also really apply to discussions of sustainability.  We need creative intelligence to have vision–to create solutions, to think beyond the ordinary, to think beyond the traditional boundaries that our culture places upon us.  Vision is a critical component of change, and one written about as necessary in books like The Limits of Growth.  But visioning alone never cane come to fruition without the next two kinds of intelligence.  We need to assess and understand the quality of the solutions that we dream up–are they pipe dreams? Or are they realistic? What resources would it take to make them happen?  Do they solve the problem they are meant to solve? Finally, we need practical action and dedication to effectively implement ideas.

 

I would like to propose that we use these intelligences as a triad to understand ways of seeing the world from both a druidic and sustainable perspective.  I’d also like to suggest that we use these as a heuristic, that is, a useful and thought provoking tool, for developing a more sustainable relationship with the living world.