The Druid's Garden

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

Permaculture for Druids, Part I: Sankofa and a Weaving of Past, Present, and Future September 4, 2016

Sankofa. This was the first principle taught to me during my Permaculture Teacher Training (from which I’ve just returned), by the incredible teacher Pandora Thomas. Sankofa is a word from the Twi language in Ghana that refers to the idea of it not being wrong to go back and finding something that has been forgotten, or literally, “go back and get it.”

 

Symbols of Sankofa

Symbols of Sankofa

Sankofa, the art of finding again what has been lost.

Sankofa, the importance of understanding our past to live regeneratively in our present and shape our future.

Sankofa, the knowledge of the ancestors manifest today.


Sankofa
deeply resonated within me as a druid and as a human being, someone trying hard to regenerate our lands and tread lightly upon the earth. When I look at the many movements that have touched me–of reskilling, sustainable living, natural building, community building, herbalism, permacluture, druidry–I see this principle woven into much of my current inspiration. For we are a people who have lost our path; we’ve lost the wisdom of our ancestors, of earth and water, seed and stone.  Sankofa says that its ok, that we can go back and get it.  Collectively, we can emerge from the fog of capitalism, consumerism, and industry to see that the tools and practices we need are still there, within us and found in our histories, waiting once again to come forth.

 

Sankofa, the act of finding our way again, with wisdom and guidance from the ancestors.

Sankofa, finding and renewing the ancient bonds between humans and the living earth.

Sankofa, a principle of living and being.

 

Sankofa certainly describes the work we do as druids following an earth-based spiritual path. Druid spirituality was inspired by the ancient druids and modeled, as much as we are now able, from their teachings and traditions. Druidy focuses on bringing us back to a closer relationship with the earth and rediscovering those ancient connections that humanity has always had, and still has, deep within. Druidry gives us old practices (nature observation, meditation, ritual, seasonal awareness) that are rekindled, and that help us reestablish that sacred relationship between humans and nature that had been forged over the millennia. Sankofa as a principle is fitting to describe part of what the druid tradition is about.

Regeneration

Regeneration

Likewise, sankofa is an excellent fit to describe Permaculture.  Permaculture is a system of principles and ethics, rooted in nature, that help us regenerate ecosystems and connections between ourselves, the land, and each other.  Permaculture is rooted in the idea that we can live abundantly and richly while also improving the land and ecosystem around us, that we can be in partnership, working with nature, rather than against it.  Permaculture design principles are not new; they are old principles with a new presentation fitting for today’s age. Humans through the centuries have understood–and enacted–these principles based on nature and tempered by common sense (observation, producing no waste, obtain a yield, value renewables, etc.). Before fossil fuels, these principles, implicit or explicit, were how humans lived and survived. But, for modern humans living in post-industrial times, these principles are new in the sense that we haven’t had these ways of knowing or stories shared with us in our upbringing, in our family traditions, in our educational system. The principles are no longer part of our cultural tradition or knowledge. Part of our response to the challenges of today that we collectively we face is, of course, remembering that the land is our greatest teachers, learning principles from that land, and enacting those principles again in our present reality.  What we are discovering along the way is that this practice is not only necessary, it is fun, empowering, and meaningful work. Permaculture design is a new way of framing old knowledge.

 

One of the questions I’m often asked is why I practice permaculture, as part of my druidry, and why I work to integrate these two principles. What I have found through my interweaving of permaculture and druidry is this:

 

Permaculture aligns beautifully with an earth-honoring, earth-centered spiritual practice.  Because permaculture focuses on designing from natures patterns, it helps better aligning us to the rhythms of the seasons, and regenerating landscapes intersects with spiritual and earth-centered seasonal celebrations, meditations, and studies.  It gives me additional layers through which to understand my spiritual connection to the living earth.

 

Permaculture offers us tools for empowerment and change that are not culturally appropriated, tied to any person or belief.  This is really important in a day and age where everything seems to be culturally appropriated or disconnected from its original context.  These are universal principles, used all over the world, applied uniquely in different contexts, for regeneration.

 

Permaculture offers us hope.  I get demoralized, as you’ll read from time to time on this blog, with what is going on beyond my control.  As I think anyone who is awake and alive and paying attention now feels.

 

Permaculture is one outer practice to compliment the inner practice  of druidry.  The druid tradition gives me many tools for working on my own inner landscape and spiritually aligning with the living earth; permaculture gives me the tools to do the same on the outer landscape.  As a druid and permaculture designer. I stand with my ancestors, those who understood the land and the patterns of the land, behind me, with me, weaving, and growing.

Permaculture for all!

Permaculture for all!

Last year, I wrote about the power of permaculture design as a way to regenerate the land, human-land, and human-human connections. I followed that post up with a discussion of my own five-year design site (which I moved away from last year to return to my homeland of Pennsylvania, land very much in need of regeneration). And I’ve done a smattering of posts on the topic: an introduction to the ethics of permaculture (which I’ll be returning to and expanding) and a post on the practice of self care from a druid/permaculture perspective and permaculture design sites and practices within permaculture (like sheet mulching).  These posts wove between the inner and outer landscapes, offering suggestions and thoughts on how permaculture and druid practice can be intersected and connected.  And while this entire blog has been, since its inception, dedicated to weaving between the inner and outer work of druidry as a sacred, regernative practices and has been heavily inspired by permaculture design, I think I haven’t done the underlying principles of permaculture itself enough justice.  So now, we are ready to dig into the design principles more explicitly and see how they can offer us some navigation and grounding in the time to come.

 

It is a good time to begin this series, as I have just returned from my permaculture teacher training course, with Pandora Thomas and Lisa Depiano, and feel empowered to write, grow, and learn with all of you!  With the ancestors behind us, and the possibility of the future ahead of us,  this post starts an extended series on “Permaculture for Druids” where I’ll weave principles from permaculture design with druid wisdom and explore permaculture’s place in both our inner and outer landscapes.  Like my other series (Druid Tree Workings, Sacred Trees, and Land Healing), I’ll do this over a number of months with some other scattered posts on non-permaculture topics woven in between.  Blessings!

 

A Druid’s Primer on Land Healing, Part IX: Healing Our Lands Physically, Energetically, and Spiritually May 29, 2016

Alternative Front Yard full of healing and habitat

Alternative Front Yard full of healing and habitat!

As I walk through my neighborhood in this quiet Pennsylvania town, I am struck by the contrast. On one hand, many of my neighbor’s lawns are monocropped with grass–one after another, green expanses stretch on and on. Dandelions are quickly sprayed, and uniformity reigns supreme. This is the language of “progress,” the look of industrialization, and the announcement of humanity’s dominance over nature. But yet, on many blocks, one or two households have embraced a different paradigm: kale and strawberries along the front green area between the street and the sidewalk growing for any who want to harvest, pumpkins climbing through hedges, a completely alternative lawn full of herbs that requires loving care, but certainly not mowing. A fully abundant 1/10th of an acre with fruit trees, raised beds, grape arbors, and beautiful carved wooden sculptures. This is a sign, to me, that change and hope are possible and that the language of healing, the language of regeneration, touches the hearts and souls of so many here.  Part of this is facilitated by community groups: this town has held an Herb Study Group for over 30 years as well as an avid group of gardeners, and alternative lawns and growing spaces are accepted here (although still not the norm by any means). The contrast between these two spaces, both energetically and physically, is quite impressive. And this isn’t the only kind of regenerated space you can find nearby: after the strip mines complete their work, they are now required by law to return the landscape. Usually, this means planting scrub pines and watching the goldenrod come back in with very limited biodiversity, but occasionally, you find a druid wandering among those places, spreading magic seed balls infused with the energy and light of healing or planting nuts in the bare soils–and the seeds of biodiversity that can help this land transform and regrow the many things that were lost.  Now, new ecosystems are being reborn in those places that were once stripped bear.

 

And, a place I’ll be visiting this summer to do some backpacking is the PA Wilds region, an area with almost 1.5 million acres of forests. These forests were once desolate, logged areas, with almost 100% of the forests being clear cut about a century ago, much of the logging to fuel industrialization and expansion. While these forests are still under threat from fracking and oil exploration (especially in the Allegheny National Forest), many of these lands are regenerated with abundance and life. Even wild elk roam once more!

 

Truly, as a land healer, being part of spaces that can be, or are being, actively regenerated–and healed– is my favorite kind of work. I say it’s my favorite work because the other work I’ve talked about, in the last four or so posts in this series, where you are witnessing, holding space, sending energy deep into the heart of the earth is all really hard–energetically hard, emotionally hard, and can be physically draining.  Its even hard to write about it, which is part of why this has taken me so long to finish what I thought was going to be a short series on the subject!  But the work of regeneration, of taking damaged lands and helping them heal–the work of this post: it is work that regenerates the spirit. It grows as you grow, it unfolds and you unfold with it is perfect harmony.  This work allows us to share our gifts of creativity, nurturing, healing, and joy and reconnect with the living earth around us.

 

Layers of regenerating forest!

Layers of regenerating forest!

I’ve really been talking about this subject of land healing seriously for over a year now from different angles, especially focused on the physical regeneration of the land through my posts on healing hands, on refugia gardens, on seed saving and spreading seed balls, on alternative front and back lawns, and even further back on homesteading and my own regeneration work in Michigan. As you can see, I’ve written a lot on this blog about physical work of land healing as spiritual work, and I want to talk today about the linkages between the physical and spiritual dimensions and the more energetic aspects of this work.  Because while the land always has the power to heal–energetic work on our lands can help it heal much, much, faster.  Consider this like a burst of healing energy to get the land abundantly growing again!  This is, for now at leats, the final post in my Druid’s Primer for Land Healing series, although I do have some more specialized topics planned in the future. You can read the full series of posts here: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, and Part VIII.  And once you’ve done that, come back, and we will talk about how to heal our lands!

 

Where Healing Can Happen

I want to return to my very first post in this series briefly, and remind you about the places and spaces that land healing–land regeneration–can happen. This direct healing work should be done not on sites that are actively being damaged outside of your control (repeated logging, strip mines, etc)–this is the work of palliative care, and I refer you to earlier posts in this series. Nor is it the work of a site that is going to be destroyed–this is yet another kind of spiritual and energetic work. Today’s work is for sites that have had damage (whether it is that the ecosystem has been removed because of construction, mining, or even replaced with a lawn) and is in a place that it can now heal again and is free from possible damage in the immediate future. This is really an important distinction to understand, because the wrong kind of energetic work can be damaging. Here’s what I mean: a lot of the techniques I will describe in this post are techniques of the energy of spring and that of fire–its about waking up, getting things flowing again, coaxing the spirits of the land out of deep slumber and hiding.  The last thing you want to do is do this work if the land will end up being destroyed so soon again. That’s like rousing a sick person out of bed, and moving, when all they really need to do is sleep through the worst of it.

 

Preparing for Healing Work and Building Relationships: Feeling Your Way Into the Work

If the land has been damaged for some time, the spirits of that land may have fled, gone deeply underground, or are otherwise closed off. I experienced this on my land in Michigan when I first arrived. I remember standing beneath the giant white pine tree, next to the second white pine stump that was it’s partner and had been cut off haphazardly by the previous owners. I sensed the spirits were there, but there was tremendous sorrow, anger, and resentment of all that had been done to the land. I began, before doing any healing work, with the work of apology and witnessing, acknowledging what had been done and showing that I was a different kind of person and was here to help. I don’t think, at first, I was accepted as someone who would heal. And so, I  my waited, knowing that things would unfold in their own time and in their own way.  The only thing I did during this time was clean up active piles of garbage (like a burn pile) and scattered debris, and then I enacted the first design principle of permaculture: observe and interact.

 

Time for some regeneration!

Time for some regeneration!  This is one site I’m working with at present.

Shortly after I moved in, a racoon that had distemper showed up in my yard in the early morning hours. The racoon was out in the day, and after I determined that he didn’t have rabies based on his symptoms, I sat at a distance, holding space with him, knowing that his time was near.  He passed a few hours later. I dug a deep hole, blessed it with flowers and sacred water, and had a small ceremony for him.  I covered him up and piled a cairn of rocks quite high, knowing that if his body was left out, the disease would spread.  Sure enough, over the next few days, a number of critters tried to get into that hole, but were unable to do so due to my careful burial. The distemper was stopped from infecting any other animals.  After the raccoon incident, the land opened up, and the actual healing work could begin.  I realized that the raccoon was a test, and apparently, I had passed.  It was at this point that the spirits of the land spoke to me, shared with me the healing work that was to be done, and I began in earnest.  I will also say that that wasn’t the only test, and they come at unexpected times!

 

A Patchwork of Approaches

No single person’s approach is the “right” approach to land healing work.  You may have a very different skillset or background than I do, so I would suggest that you take the approaches here and use the ones that work for you (and I am very interested in hearing approaches you have used–please share!)  I would also really strongly encourage you to bring others in for the healing work.  For example, my sister is a Reiki Master Teacher, and the way she moves energy is very different than the ways that I do as a Druid.  It was a welcome thing for her to come, after I purchased my land for example, and do her own kind of energetic healing.  Another friend was an incredible musician, and radiated his healing energy out to the land with a series of wonderful folk songs.  And so, you might think about the land healing work you do like a colorful patchwork quilt with different designs: many approaches can work, and the more, the merrier!  So with that, here are some that I have found particularly effective.

 

Physical-Energetic-Spirit Connections

The most important aspect of all of this work, whether you are doing music, reiki, ritual, or other sacred work that I describe below is that you understand the relationship between physical healing and energetic healing.  You might think about this in an analogy with human beings: we have a physical body, we have emotions/heart, and we have a soul. These are all interlinked, and yet, each needs a different kind of healing energy.

  • Our physical regeneration of the land, through tending the wild, scattering seeds, replanting and regrowing, is like the physical regeneration of our bodies.  This is building habitat, reintroducing species, creating spaces for life.
  • The energetic regeneration is a lot like helping heal a person’s emotional scars: this is a completely different kind of healing, done by different strategies or even a different kind of healer. This is rebuilding the human-nature connections that have been severed, reconneciton, rebuilding trust.
  • The healing of the soul–is like the deep spiritual work we do as humans. I tie this analogy to that of the spirits of the land, those non-corporeal beings that reside in our lands and make magic there. River spirits, tree spirits, larger guardian spirits, animal spirits, plant spirits–so many live in our lands.

It is on all three levels that we can work to provide the most benefit; but work on even one of these levels also benefits the other two in the long run.  And, so, today, we explore the healing work we can do on the energetic and spirit levels: that of ritual, sacred spaces, gaurdianship, and more.

 

A Full Season of Rituals: Infusing with the Blessing of the Sun

I’ve mentioned before the method of drawing energy down from the sun and infusing the land with light as a way to clear energetically bad places, and we are going to build upon that method (which I shared in my last post in this series, including a barebones structure of a ritual that you can use).  In the case of land healing when the land is ready for regeneration, I would suggest more than just a single ritual for this work; where in the case of palliative care, one ritual is all you need or want to do. In the case of land healing,  I would suggest either a full year of rituals (four, minimum, at the solstices and equinoxes) and, if possible, the setting of a standing stone to permanently channel that light down and within (I explained the standing stone technique more fully in my earlier post I linked above).

 

In the case of energetic land healing, I find that most of the work I do in this area is drawing energy towards the site and infusing it with healing light.  The ritual that I most often use for this is one from the AODA, our seasonal celebrations, which works directly with the three currents and which serves as a land healing and blessing, drawing down the light of the celestial heavens and the sun.  I’ve shared a barebones structure of it in my last post.  You can purchase the AODA Grove Handbook for a complete version of this ritual for a group (or if you are a member of the AODA, we will be releasing a New Member Guide soon that will include solo versions of the ritual).

 

The power of the sun!

The power of the sun!

You can use the structure I provided in my last post, with one major exception: you are doing a series of rituals instead of just one.  The first ritual you do should be the one I outlined in the last post–clearing away the energetic darkness. Think of this like the pain and suffering that need to be healed, and only once they are healed, then the light can come within the land. I kind of see this akin to a clay pot–when you start land healing work, the pot is often filled with negative energy, with darkness, and the first thing you have to do is clear out the stuff that’s already in the pot before you can fill it with something better.  So the first ritual does that.  You can use any other structure as well, with the intention of clearing the space first.

 

So a yearly ritual structure for intensively providing energetic healing support to the land might look like this (using the energies of the season for a guide).  I’d personally start this work if possible in the Winter Solstice, but starting the work anytime is also appropriate.

  1.  Winter Solstice and/or Spring Equinox: Clearing out the darkness and bringing in some light.
  2. Spring equinox and/or Summer Solstice: Infusing the land with light for a blessing.
  3. Summer Solstice and/or Fall Equinox: A second infusing of the land with light for a blessing; establishing guardianship (see below)
  4. Fall equinox and/or Winter Solstice: A third infusion of the land with light for a blessing; deep listening on the next steps to take.

If you are also setting a standing stone (or even building a stone carin), you can focus your ritual on the stone itself.

 

For the differences in these four kinds of rituals, visualization is effective: imagine the energy coming down from the star, through the sun, and down into the earth, filling the land with light.  Purging of darkness, and then, seeing the light infuse into the land, up into the roots, and so on.

 

Creating a Sacred Space

I have found that establishing a permanent sacred space on the land (even around the entire land that is undergoing healing, if appropriate) is very effective. I have written on this particular thing in a number of posts, so I refer you to my sacred space series of posts for more information on how to do this.  One key here is to listen carefully, and to build a sacred space that you can tend and visit often.  This might just be leaving a small offering, sitting quietly, observing, meditating–the important thing here is that a sacred space is created by the union of yourself and the land, and your presence is needed for it to continue to function.  In the case of my homestead in Michigan, I established the whole property as a sacred space, and worked it diligently in a number of ways.  And you should have seen how it grew!

 

Communing with Spirits

On the matter of healing the soul of the land, we must reach out to the spirits of the land if we are able. Some people have particular gifts in this area in terms of direct communication, while others’ gifts lead them in a different direction.  Divination tools can be useful here. I would say, if nothing else, leaving an offering for the spirits (possibly at a shrine you construct as part of the larger sacred space, above), acknowledge the spirits, and most importantly–welcome them back. Let them know that you are doing work here, that the land is no longer in danger, and that it is safe to return.  They will take their time, perhaps, in manifesting, but be patient. And look for signs of any kinds (see my Druid’s Tree Working posts for how to commune with them, the strategies are very much the same).

 

Re-establishing Eldership

The Ancient Maple - An Elder of the Land

The Ancient Maple – An Elder of the Land

One of the problems that happen, especially with forests and logging, but really with any site that has been destroyed, is that the land loses its elders.  You’ve probably met those elders areas in lands that are whole–the ancient wizened oak, the tall white pines, the ancient elk with a massive rack of horns.  These elders are those who have inhabited the land for many cycles of the sun and moon, and who hold presence and history in those spaces.  They are like a nexus of energy, with many linkages throughout the forest. They have tremendous energy surrounding them, a strong spirit, wisdom.  The English language fails me here, but I hope you understand. The problem that new lands face is that they have no elders, that presence may have been lost.  I have found that part of healing is helping to establish the patterns of eldership. You want to do this carefully and in full support of the land and her spirits, but here are some suggestions.  These suggestions really apply to the plant kingdom; I have less experience with animal eldership (but perhaps one of my readers does):

  • Stones, rivers, and other inorganic features have been around a very long time.  Some stones even hold the patterns of fossils of ancient trees.  They can temporarily hold this kind of energy until a living elder grows and is established over time. Living elders are important, however.
  • Bringing a piece of an elder from another place can sometimes work.  For example, First, find an elder in another place, and see if that elder will let you move a small piece of themselves (like a branch) and place it somewhere you are led to place it.
  • Finding the offspring of an elder who was cut (in the case of a tree, as these elders are often trees) and nurturing that new offspring can also be done.

 

Re-establishing Guardianship

The sacred compact between humans and the land, and the symbiotic relationship between them, is destroyed when the land is stripped bare or otherwise damaged. Re-establishing the human’s role as a guardian and tender of that land is important–and that is something that you can do if you feel led–but only if you feel led.  This involves a few steps.

  • First, feel this out out very carefully, making sure that this is something that the land wants and that you can do.  The land may want to be left alone to heal on its own for a time, and you don’t want to be there if you are unwelcome. It also needs to be something that you are making a long-term commitment to, so make sure you are stable enough, and rooted enough, for that kind of commitment.
  • Two, if it appears appropriate, making an oath to the land establishing guardianship (I will usually do this as part of a regular ritual at an appropriate day, such as at one of the solstices or equinoxes).  Make it clear what you are swearing to, and make sure whatever you swear to, you intend to uphold.
  • Three, regular visitation, vigilance, tending, and time spent–the work of the guardian.  This can be anything: from going to the land and visiting, being open and listening, to picking up trash, paying attention to the needs of the land, to protecting it from those who would seek to harm.
  • Regular work on the land should include gaining knowledge about the land: learning it’s history, learning the dominant species and how they interact, studying botany, learning the names and uses of the trees–enough to know if something is amiss.  Spend time on the land–overnight, in quietude, moving around–in all those ways.  Build sacred spaces.  Bring people there to help heal and grow. Think of this land like your focal point for much of what you do!

The role of guardian of the land is not one to take on lightly, but if you feel compelled to do so, it is a wonderful way of reestablishing those connections and helping the land heal.  It is really a lifetime commitment, and I only mention it here because it is so effective for land healing.

 

The Magic of Seeds

I’ll end my discussion today with two physical healing techniques that I’ve mentioned before: as I discussed in my series of posts on refugia and seed arc gardens over the winter months, land that is physically healing. When the land has been stripped bare, it needs the genetic material to regenerate.  This requires a knowledge of botany and ecology, but you can easily find lists of plants common to your bioregion, including those endangered. The same is true of endangered mammals, birds, amphibians, and bugs–and the kinds of ecosystems they need to be safe.  I very much believe in the work of scattering seeds, of tending the wild, and doing this intentionally as a land healer.

 

These days, I take my magic seed balls–of several varieties–with me everywhere.  The wet woodland blend includes seeds of ramps, stoneroot, blue cohosh, and mayflower.  The fields blend includes New England aster, milkweed, pluresy root, echinacea, and stinging nettle (all of these plants are on the United Plant Saver’s list, save stinging nettle and NE Aster; these two I added because we just need more of them around!)

 

A Permablitz

Finally, there is a tremendous amount of power in a group of people, a community, coming together to enact healing work. While this can be done doing ritual, like I described above, it can also be done through the physical work of healing the land.  In permaculture terms, we call this a permablitz, and it’s a way for people to come together and quickly replant, regrow, and tend the land.  I held a number of permablitzes at my own property and also helped many others in blitzes of their own.  The land appreciates this so much, as it provides a counter narrative to the many hands who had worked to destroy a place for their own gains.  These blitzes are generally focused on a restorative approach–perhaps earthworking (like swales) to hold water, almost always some planting or scattering seeds, and other kinds of work.  People want to feel like they are doing something, and blitzes are not only a great way to heal the land but also to help reconnect many with the living earth.

 

Tree in the fall months!

Tree in the fall months!

Concluding Thoughts (for now)!

This series has been going on for quite some months now–I must say, I was surprised by how much I had to say once I started writing.  It took a while to come forth, as some of the subjects were quite difficult to talk about, but I hope this material was useful.  I hope it is useful as you engage in your own land healing work, whether you’ve been doing land healing for a long time, or whether you are new to this process.  I think this the last post, for now, but I expect that this will be a topic I’ll continue to return to from time to time, as I learn new things and grow in new ways.  Thank you for staying with me throughout this journey, and I wish you the best in your own land healing endeavors!  I’d love to hear from you more about your own land healing work, and also, as you use these techniques covered in the nine posts, I would love to hear your thoughts, feedback, and experiences.  Blessings!

 

Honoring the Predators: A Story of Reconnection May 14, 2016

My last beekeeping post told a the tale of my two bee colonies destroyed by colony collapse disorder. I had hoped to have better news to share about my beekeeping endeavors this year. And things started well enough: a friend removed some bees from a house that was to be torn down and gave them to me; I moved my hive to a new location and setup the hive in a friend’s yard, and then I was able to setup an empty hive with the hopes of catching a second swarm. But, unfortunately, this tale has a different end, and a different lesson. The bees were doing great, I had just added honey supers a few weeks ago, and I was expecting a ton of honey from such a strong colony and then–the bear came. I have read about bears taking out beehives, but I have never talked with anyone that had this happen. My friend had never seen a bear, and there were no reports of them in the area, but clearly, one was nearby! The bear ripped open the hive, and, in the middle of a rainstorm, flung the colony all over the place as he had his meal. Bears go for honey, but especially, for the brood: the bees’ young larvae and pupae are very protein rich. And so, this was the scene that greeted my friend when she woke up, and the scene that greeted me when I arrived to see what could be salvaged.

Destroyed Beehives

Destroyed Beehives

Two of us worked for most of the day to salvage what we could. The bees that remained were soaking and, since it was only about 50 that day, very cold. The equipment was soaked, and I had no idea if the queen had survived. I thought it likely the bear would return, so I spoke to various friends in a desperate effort to move the hives before dark. I wasn’t able to secure a location, and since it is illegal to have bees inside of town limits, we instead drove many pieces of rebar around the hive, wired it up, strapped it shut, and hoped for the best. I wish now I had just stuck them on my porch for a day or two until I could figure out where to move them and risked the citation. Unfortunately, the bear came back, and while we made it harder for him to get inside, he still did, demolishing what was left of the hive.

 

The end of this tale is a bit better–although there weren’t many bees left after the second bear visit, we salvaged what was left: the queen and about 5000 of her workers. We borrowed a travel box from a friend, and we saved every bee we could, gently helping them into the hive box. A fellow beekeeping friend has a number of hives, so he had brood and resources to help them get back to health. They are now back on their way to a strong colony again, and they are protected from bears. All the beekeepers in the  area are on alert now about bears, thanks to my hive. This whole event has given me much to think about and meditate upon, and a variety of lessons  to consider–and today, the lesson is honoring the predators.

 

It’s ironic that this the lesson I am exploring, because the the hives were torn apart on the early morning hours of May 2nd. The day before was May 1st – Beltane. I met with a new friend, a woman who had dedicated her life to the work of the goddesses, and we got together to do a Beltane ceremony. As part of our first ceremony, each of us brought some things from our respective traditions to share with each other. One of the things she brought were offerings, including an offering honoring the predators. She made her offering and spoke beautifully about the predators, their role, the goddesses connected to them. In my mind, I was certainly not honoring the predators. All of my experiences with predators as a homesteader were negative: the hawk that swooped down to kill many of my dear chickens, including taking a peep right from in front of me. The dead chicken bodies I found as the hawk flew off after eating a meal. I remember the evidence of the badger that ripped my coop open one night and drug off my beloved rooster (an event I still haven’t written about), the snakes by the pond swallowing frogs whole, their peeping and screeching noises going on for over an hour till the snake finally finished its meal.

 

As my friend spoke so beautifully about the predators, I was instead filled with these images of predators and how I spent so much of my own time over the last few years keeping them away from things I loved. And then, that next morning–the largest predator of all in this area–the bear–came and feasted upon my beehive.

 

I have reminisced in the weeks that have passed since the hive was eaten that I really do have a problem honoring the predators–and that’s a problem with me, not a problem with the predators. And the predators, in their own way, will make themselves known and continue to show up in my life until I am able to honor them. And so, to help myself come to terms with the loss, I thought I’d write about the predators and, finally, begin to do the work of honoring them.

 

Cultural Problems with Predators

We learn about predators in school in really scientific ways: predators sit at the top of the food chain; they are carnivorous, eating only the flesh of other creatures; they may be solitary or run in packs. We learn about predators from the local news: a hiker was mauled by a bear, a swimmer was eaten by a shark, a pack of coyotes killed a number of neighborhood dogs. We learn about human predators, who we view as the worst kind of people: those who stalk, kill, harm and maim others. This, term perhaps shows us the cultural view of the predator, that we take this term and we attach it to heinous actions that are in no way comparable to a bear or a fox taking a meal. I think I was viewing the predators that had eaten the bees, the chickens, and so forth in the same way: you, predator, have taken something I value, you have taken a life. You have done me wrong and have done wrong to others.  But this is not the lesson of the predator, not the lesson at all.

 

Nature’s Wisdom

Sometimes, those of us, especially those in nature-based spiritual paths, want to see nature as all roses, all pretty trees, all little birds signing. But roses have thorns, the trees compete for light, and the birds sometimes knock each other’s eggs out of nests. Like everything else, they are working to survive by any means possible. A forest is full of both competition for resources and cooperation. I’m reminded here of the lesson of the many medicinal mushrooms of the woods (and you can read some of this in Tradd Cotter’s book; he gave a fascinating talk on this subject last year at the Mother Earth News Fair in Seven Springs, PA.) The medicinal qualities–particularly the anti-cancer, anti-microbial qualities–of mushrooms like birch polypore, turkey tail, or reishi are based on their growth in natural environments, where mushrooms have to compete to survive. Tradd gave an example in his talk of a petri dish that he was working on that had birch polypore in it–he had dropped something nasty into it (e-coli, I think) and was amazed to see how the birch polypore exuded an anti-fungal agent to combat it, and surround it, and eventually subdue it using what was essentially chemical warfare. That same chemical constituent, when taken within, helps us fight a number of diseases. If the mushrooms are grown in a lab or in a controlled setting, their medicinal value drops significantly–because they don’t have the natural competition of all of the other bacteria and others in the fungal kingdom. These mushrooms aren’t predators in the traditional (animalistic) sense, but they certainly  have similar qualities and offer similar lessons.

Tradd Cotter teaching us about mushrooms

Tradd Cotter teaching us about mushrooms

Predator Patterns and Restoration Agriculture

The truth is, predators are a key part of nature, and without them, we lose a greater part of the whole and the entire ecosystem suffers. Recently, farmers and activists in permaculture design and in sustainable agriculture have been reintroducing predator-driven graze patterns to help regenerate agricultural lands. These patterns, set by millions of years of evolution, are now mimicked by humans on farms to move herd animals through various terrain. This work is perhaps best illustrated by the work of Joel Salatin at Polyface farm (see Polyfaces) and Mark Sheppard at New Forest Farm (see his book Restoration Agriculture or the film Inhabit). The principle of understanding why traditional graze patterns is simple: if you’ve ever visited a chicken run or petting zoo, you see what happens when animals are fenced in the same area for a long period of time. They first eat their favorite food, then nibble down to the less desirable greenery, and finally, eat whatever is left, leaving bare soil.  This is what happens in a stationary system, rather than one driven by predators.

 

Rather than fencing animals in the same spot, folks like Salatin and Sheppard carefully rotate their herd animals  among large tracts of land in traditional grazing patterns. Mark Sheppard has his system so effectively designed that every different animal (cows, pigs, geese, chickens) move through a patch and quickly out of it in only a few days time. As the herds are rotated, each animal gets it’s own best “first bite.” This technique encourages the grass to stay alive, and to shed carbon (as the grass is bitten down, it sheds roots to accommodate it’s smaller size, and that sinks carbon into the topsoil, enriching it). This, friends, is why prior to the settling of the USA by Europeans, the prairies had soil horizons that were 12 feet deep of rich topsoil: it was millennia of herds moving quickly through areas, driven by predators. Predators, then, are responsible for herd movements that can literally sequester carbon and stop climate change. Farmers interested in regenerative agriculture are using these same methods to sequester tens of thousands of pounds of carbon each year.  Salatin has compelling evidence tha  if every US farmer who raises any grazing animal used these techniques, we could sink all of the carbon the USA has ever emitted in less than 10 years.

 

This is the power of the predator, and this one of many reasons that they are deserving of our respect.

 

There are other examples of this as well. I’m sure that many of you saw the video about Yellowstone Park, where it was shown that the re-introduction of wolves changed the whole ecosystem because of the movement of herds.  The wolves were able, as the video suggests, change the movement of herds, which changed rivers, and helped regenerate the entire ecosystem. (There are some new articles that suggest that this video exaggerates the claims a bit, but I am still inclined to believe that a whole ecosystem, with it’s predators intact, is a more robust and healthy ecosystem). Without predators as a part of the ecosystem, all suffer.

 

Predators and Inner Lessons

The outer lessons, above, are clearer the more I write and think about them, but I would also like to spend a few moments on the inner lessons that the predators offer. I, like many, saw predators as a nuisance, as something to keep away, as something you don’t want to see flying above the skies or slinking through the grass.  But predators have another message–they are awareness medicine.

 

The hawks flying overhead made me better protect my chickens, and sent me a powerful message about defenses, about being vigilant, and about not letting my guard down. If my chickens were the tastiest plump morsels around (and they are, they are made of chicken), then I had to change my own relationship with the predators and protect my chickens better. If I lose a chicken to a hawk, this is not the fault of the predator, this is my own lack of vigilance.

 

The badger who broke into my coop, and dragged my beloved rooster off never to be seen again, sent me the message that I was to return to PA to my beloved mountains, a message I have since enacted in my life. The magic of my homestead worked because of my rooster, Anasazi, and without him, I knew it wasn’t going to work in the same way. That powerful message was the last thing I needed to truly move forward in my life.

 

And the bear, who easily took out the beehive during the first evening, and even more skillfully worked his way through wire, rebar, straps, and more, teaches me the lesson that the predators need to be honored. To be respected. They are there, they are present, and there is no getting around their message.  They are there whether or not we want them to be. And it is me, not them, who needs to change my own thoughts and actions .

 

The lessons of the predator are many: power, strength, vigilance, loss, opportunity, precision, healing, defenses, paying attention, cultivating awareness and openness to your surroundings. Friends, readers, what are your experiences with the predators? Do you have any additional lessons to share?

 

A Druid’s Primer on Land Healing, Part VIII: Rainbow Workings and other Palliative Care Strategies for Damaged Lands April 16, 2016

I had the most amazing thing happen to me about a month ago, and it involved the direct (palliative) healing of an active strip mine site.  I was heading to teach an herbalism course at a friend’s business about 15 minutes away from where I live.  My drive this requires me to cross a divided highway and do a u-turn at a site that is a very new active strip mine.  They aren’t fully removing the mountain, but they are certainly cutting into it quite a bit, and ripping up the entire surface of the land in the process. For a while, I’ve been driving past this spot, and energetically, it just feels bad, like in the pit of your belly bad. I knew something was to be done, but I wasn’t sure what. So I kept visiting, listening, and being told “wait” (using the same strategies I’ve shared with you earlier in this series). And so, wait I did.

 

Rainbow Working!

Rainbow Working!

That particular day when I was going to teach my class, we had both sunshine and storms. Rain would pour for five minutes and then it would be sunny again.  These are such fun days to enjoy, and usually rainbows abound.  I hadn’t yet seen one, but I had anticipated it, and sure enough, I wasn’t disappointed.  Just I was turning around, I saw a rainbow–it was right in front of me, on the road ahead. I decided to follow it slowly with my car, and suddenly, it jumped. When it jumped, I looked to my left, and there it was, coming down right in the center of the whole strip mine operation. Now, for anyone who has studied the old Celtic, underworld, and fairy lore, a jumping rainbow is described as an old trick to lead you somewhere–and that’s definitely what happened in this case.

 

Now, every day, as part of my AODA practice, I connect with the three currents (a strategy I’d suggest in preparation for this kind of work; I’ll talk more about this later in this post). I’m pretty adept, at this point, in channeling down the solar current. I connected with that rainbow, with the sun’s rays reflecting off of those droplets of water and pulled it down, deep down, into the darkness and suffering of that strip mine. I sat for quite a while and channeled down that energy, and as I did, the rainbow grew brighter, and more brilliant.  At some point, the work felt done.  The land felt cleaner.  More at peace with what was happening.  The worst of the bad energy was gone. Each time since I’ve visited that spot, the effects of the rainbow remain.

 

Now, obviously, a rainbow working is not really something you can plan!  But, I did want to share this as a potent land healing strategy to open up today’s post. And I think what I can share is that even if you don’t have the blessing of a rainbow over the spot you want to help heal, you do have the energy of the sun frequently, and it can be used in various ways–as we’ll explore today, along with other strategies for palliative care.

 

Why Palliative Care?

When I started this land healing series, I started with descriptions of the different kinds of healing work you can do: physical and energetic land healing for sites that need active regeneration and healing (which is where things like permaculture fit) and palliative care (for sites that cannot yet be healed and are underging active harm).  Today’s post is going to explore specific land healing strategies for palliative care that you can engage in–these are specific strategies for sites that are just like the rainbow working above: these sites have ongoing active destruction or are far from what nature intended. As before, if you haven’t read the earlier parts in this series, I would strongly suggest that you do so, as the series builds from the previous posts: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI and Part VII.

 

I think that Palliative Care for sites that are currently experiencing destruction and suffering is just as hard to deal with as the impending destruction of a natural site (which I talked about two weeks ago); both of these give you a sense of powerlessness that is difficult to deal with. You want to look away.  You want to disengage.  But instead, I suggest you try to engage, to help, to heal.  Because I can tell you this–nobody else is doing this work on our landscapes. If we, as druids and those who love the land and hold her sacred can’t do it, then who can?  Even when looking at that strip mine, that logged landscape, that fracking well, that acidic river (the ones I deal with here most often), know that that what I am looking at is still the living earth and it is still sacred land.  This kind of stuff is not one a druid meandering through the woods wants to find, but it is unfortunately a common reality that we face in the age of 21st century industrialism.

 

I believe that every age has its own spiritual challenges, and that our spiritual practices are often born from what we experience; I certainly see responding to this kind of experience as necessary for a druid living in such times. And to me, we are in a unique position to do something, and I believe, even for sites that are actively being destroyed and harmed, that something can have very long-term implications.  Consider palliative care like the first stage in the healing process–you are setting the stage for what is to come.

 

Palliative Care and Energetic Changes

I want to start by saying that nearly all of the strategies I outlined two weeks ago for sites that are going to be destroyed also work for palliative care. These include: working with the stones, working with Indian Ghost Pipe as a plant ally, putting the land in hibernation, and saving seeds. These are strategies that can do tremendous good for sites that are undergoing active harm.

 

At the same time, there is a large energetic difference between these two kinds of sites: namely,  a site that is not yet destroyed doesn’t have this energetic darkness and active suffering that a site that is destroyed carries.  Its that energetic darkness that is the focus of some of my work in palliative care, and so, I generally find myself doing a lot more energetic cleansing work on actively destroyed sites, and hence, that’s what today’s post will mainly focus on.

 

I’d also like to share that the energetic nature of active destruction changes over time, and I think, is due in part to where in the process things are occurring.  If a site has been actively destroyed for a long period of time, you often encounter this energetic deadness or a complete lack of vitality. A lot of the rivers around here are like that–they have been acidic and poisonous to life for half a century or more–this means that they are largely “dead” feeling, where the active strip mine site (a new operation less than a year old) is energetically very dark and intense.

 

What I do depends on a number of factors. I generally don’t do much with the dead sites unless I know active healing can happen–I think that the deadness is better than most other things, in that there is no active suffering, and the land has figured out how to numb itself and the spirits have retreated.  So for these, I might say a small prayer or blessing, but otherwise, leave them be. I am certainly not going to do anything to “wake” that site back up or call those spirits back until it is time and active healing work can begin. When it is time for real healing to take place though, the “deadened” land then needs you to come in and give it a burst of light and life (see upcoming post!)

 

Most sites actively under siege, instead, have this really dark intensity to them and feel really “wrong” and “awful” just being near them.  For example, when I was visiting a friend in West Virginia not too long ago, I was driving and was struck with this horribly awful feeling as I rounded the bend.  Turned out, just around the next bend was a huge gravel/sand pit, cutting into the mountainside–and that was the source of the suffering.  This is exactly the kind of site that could benefit from palliative care. And so, my real focus today, is on active suffering and sites that have that energetic darkness, sickness, feeling of absolute wrongness, that pervades them.

 

Solar Blessings and Getting Rid of the Worst of the Energetic Darkness

A sacred pool uniting heaven and earth, the solar and the telluric

A sacred pool uniting heaven and earth, the solar and the telluric (see below)

So about 5 posts ago in this series, I shared information on the three currents and how ancient peoples, and modern ones, can use the currents to help heal and bless the land.  In the case of palliative care, nearly all of the problems we have are with the currents of energy in the earth, the telluric currents. The telluric currents govern what is on the land and of the land, what is on and of the earth, and that’s where the bulk of the problems for industrialized cultures, great and small, arise.  It is the uncontrolled fossil fuel use, an earthly treasure, that has our world’s climate in chaos; it is the pillaging of earthly resources that are really causing so many palliative situations to occur. These telluric currents become easily corrupted by the many earthly activities that pervade industrialized society: gravel pits, strip mines, regular mining operations, pesticides and industrialized farming, fracking, tar sands, logging, typical lawn care, and more. And so, I have found that attending to the telluric currents, by way of ancient knowledge, can tremendously help in palliative care.

 

I have found that you can effectively use the solar currents to clear away, or purify, the worst of the energetic darkness of sites under active destruction.  There are lots of ways to do this, and one of them was how I opened this post: a rainbow working! There are many, many ways to channel the solar currents down into the telluric, and this is an excellent way to get rid of the energetic crud, the worst of the suffering, and provide some respite.  I kind of see this work like providing a healing balm to soothe the energetic effects of active destruction.  You aren’t solving the problem by any means, but you are certainly doing something that really helps.

 

Most of my strategies for channeling the solar (sun) down into the telluric currents (the energy of the earth) for purification and blessing involve using specific rituals within the AODA framework.  These include the AODA’s sphere of protection (which I use most often), our seasonal grove rituals (found in the Druid Grove Handbook) or the communion ceremony from the Gnostic Celtic Church (found in the Gnostic Celtic Church Handbook).  Each of these rituals establish the space and then, as the core work of the ritual, connect to the energy of the sun, the earth, and awaken the telluric current.  I’ll share one simple derivations here, but I wanted you to understand where a lot of what I do comes from and where you can get more extended versions.  I’ve been working in this tradition for over a decade, and I think, in its own way, maybe it led me to this work by putting the perfect tools in my hands!

 

So a simple way to channel the solar down into the telluric is through AODA’s Sphere of Protection working as a basic framework.  I’m giving a simplified version of it here, and you can add and adapt as necessary.   I would begin by going to an area that needed some palliative care, and, as I mentioned before in earlier posts, ascertain the nature of the work at hand.  If I felt led, I would do the following:

  • Grounding and centering myself for the work at hand.  Part of this is opening myself up for the flow of energies, breathing deeply, and feeling rooted in the living earth. As part of the grounding and centering, I would open up some kind of protective space (even if its as simple as drawing a circle on the ground, or in the air as white light).
  • I would next go to the east, and call in the positive qualities of the east to aid the land and me in the working.  Then I would banish in the east, driving away any harmful or disturbing energies. I’d then go to the south, west, and north, doing the same thing: calling upon the positive qualities of the element and banishing the negative ones.  As you get used to doing this, you’ll find you can banish the negative qualities in larger and larger regions and areas–and this is super helpful for clearing work.
  • At each of the quarters, I would use my senses to experience that element in the world around me, identifying the influence of those four elements on the landscape: in the east I might look at the movement of the air, pay attention to the smell of the air, the birds in the sky, seeds blowing in the wind, and so on.
  • Then, I would invoke the three currents:  I would first draw a circle on the ground and invoke the telluric current, envisioning it rising through the circle as a greenish-gold light.  I would assess its purity and flow.  Then I would trace a circle in the air and pull down the solar current, envisioning it as a yellow flame coming down from the sun and the celestial heavens.
  • I would intone the “Awen” and then draw upon everything I had called: the four elements and the currents to unify the currents, awakening the lunar current and sending the solar deep within the telluric.   I would envision energy coming from each of the four directions, from the sky, and down, into the telluric.
  • I would envision this work as long as necessary, sometimes for several minutes, sometimes for a half hour or more.  Usually it doesn’t take too long, but it depends on the area.  When I felt the work was done, I would close the space (but would not send away what I had called).

That’s it in a nutshell–there’s more to it than that, but I think that’s enough for you to work with, and adapt, as you see fit.  I would say that there are more elaborate rituals and workings using these energies, but doing something basic, to start, is a good way to begin.  Some of you, who are new to ritual work, might say, “yes, but does it work?” The truth is, I cannot believe the potency and usefulness of the Sphere of Protection alone in much of this work.  I find its an extremely versatile for a lot of different kinds of land healing (and other healing) work.

 

Standing Stones

As I wrote about in my third post of the series (which helps set up today’s post) as well as my recent post on sacred gardening, humans have long been using standing stones, temples, trees, ceremonies, and more to channel the solar energies into the land for healing and abundance–but I have found these work fantastically for palliative care.  The reason is simple–setting a standing stone or using some other key marker to help channel down the solar current is a working that takes time and space to achieve.  Unlike a ritual, which radically alter a space and its energetic profile quite quickly, a standing stone is slow work, over time, over potentially a lot of time.  This lends itself well to palliative care, because its like a slow-releasing healing agent.  I’m having difficulty putting into words exactly what I mean here, but I hope you get my meaning.

 

Setting the standing stone in the pool!

Hermes is setting the standing stone in the pool!

So just this past week, two druids snuck into the woods into the park north of town and worked to set a standing stone in the forest; the same forest where many gas wells are present. We did this because here is a place, in the heart of fracking country, where the waters and forests and lands are under active duress. We had come across a natural spring earlier in the week on a hike, a tiny spring that pops up only in the springtime of the year or after heavy rains.  It was barely noticeable, but eventually flowed into a small stream with moss-covered stones. We carefully cleared away the leaves and sticks to see what we could find, and were excited with the discovery of three trickles of water welling up from the earth, almost in the shape of an awen.  The next day, we came back better prepared and set some rocks below the spring to created a small gazing pool.  Then we went off in search of a standing stone–and sure enough, within about 10 minutes, we were delighted to find a perfect standing stone for the pool.  We set that stone as a long-term healing presence, to bless these waters, those that flow past so many of those gas wells, and later, one fracking well.  To help bless all these waters that are under duress from the many fracking activities here, to cleanse and nurture the telluric currents, the spirits of these lands, and the physical forest during this difficult time.  The interesting thing about this particular spot is that its right along a fairly well-used path, so if passerby are looking in the right direction at the right time, the pool and standing stone will be quite evident!  Now, we didn’t do any ritual work at the spot–we just wanted to set the stone and let it do its good work for  a while.  However, we could come back at a later point, when we felt it was time, and do that work.

 

Land Shrines

Even if you can’t set a standing stone, I have found that a small shrine, carefully placed and tended, can work wonders over a period of time. Perhaps you create a simple stone cairn and pour blessed waters (see below) over it every season.  Perhaps you plant a rare native plant and surround it with stones.  The actual shrine, and what goes into it, can be intuitive.  But these small places are healing, they are like a light in the dark. For land that is suffering, what your shrine does is give it a focal point, something to hang onto, something to direct its attention and let the spirits of that land know that someone is thinking about them, wishing them well, and saying that we are here in support.  I have made many such shrines over the years–small places, hidden places, that I quietly go and visit.  You will get a sense, from the land itself, about how often you need to come and what you can do while you are there.

 

Music and Song

Playing the panflute for the land

Me playing the panflute for the land

I’ve mentioned before on this blog about the wonderful (and often subversive) nature of music and singing for any land healing work. This is healing work, of any variety, that can be done publicly and openly. I have found that certain songs, especially old folk songs, work particularly well for soothing the land, and allowing it to prepare for what is to come, and putting it to sleep.

If you use this technique, you will develop your own songs that that have meaning and may even be given songs to use with the land–but I would start with the melodies of old folk songs, songs that have been sung in your lands for several generations at least–and use those. I found a book once, at a local cave that was open to the public, called “Back Porch Melodies” and it had almost 50 folk songs–many of these I found useful and adapted them to my practices. I may change the lyrics or play them on my panflute, but the songs resonate deeply and the music can soothe and help pave the way.

 

Blessed Waters for Damaged Rivers

Another thing that I have done over a period of time is to collect and bless sacred waters (see this post for a ritual to create them).  I usually do this work at Imbolc or the Spring equinox each year–when the waters are flowing and the spring is returning. I began working with blessed waters many years ago,as part of my work with water over a period of years.  Now, I have this sacred water, used for countless ceremonies over the years, and from countless places all over the world, that I use as part of my land healing work.  Because the rivers, the lakes, and the oceans are one of the things tremendously under distress, a little bit of healing water goes a long way.  I have placed a few drops of my water into the headwaters of various rivers, so that as they go and become more polluted, the healing waters are still there, flowing. I also place them into the polluted rivers themselves, dropping a single drop or two in with prayers (think homeopathic doses, here!).  I use the sacred waters to drip on the roots of trees and plants, to lathe stones, to pour over healing altars and standing stones, and much more.  I have found that carrying a little bit of this water with me anywhere I am means that I am always ready and able to do some healing work. And I can give it away to others, and then they can do good work as well!

 

I replenish the sacred waters, adding to them, by visiting springs and other local healing wells.  These have an abundance of good telluric energy and you can multiply the sacred waters you create as much as you need to.

 

Moving Earth

This last strategy I’m going to share today for palliative care is one that I’ve used only once, but I think its an important one,  and some of you may find yourself also as needing to do this work.  When I first moved to MI, there was this big shopping mall area–it had a stadium, all these highways, buildings, even a big giant garbage mountain that they were doing as a dump.  But the area just felt sacred to me, in ways it normally wouldn’t have.  Every time I was there (I had to drive past it on my way to campus each day), I would see the most amazing things: spirals of birds, the light of the sun peeking through the clouds, interesting cloud formations, etc.  It was just slightly more magical, more sacred, than everywhere else around it.  So one day, I went to the site, climbed up on a big hill near a big box home improvement store, and lay among the weeds, listening with my inner and outer senses, and observing.  I saw a vision of the site, what it had been (indeed, a sacred place for peoples before), and how much it was suffering now–it was very much awake and alive, and being used in a very unsacred manner.  I was asked, very clearly, to gather up a small handful of soil from the site for a year period–at each of the solstices and equinoxes.  I did this and then, had the bowl of soil at my house for some time on one of my altars.  Finally, I was led to move the soil to a very sacred place, an old growth forest.  When I next drove by the shopping mall area, it wasn’t sacred any longer.  I had somehow…transferred…what was sacred there to a place it could reside.  This was certainly a kind of palliative care, but in this case, it was literally transferring something sacred to somewhere else.

 

Closing

I hope that this set of strategies proves useful to you in your ongoing land healing work–and please comment and share your own strategies, thoughts, and experiences.  I’m especially interested in hearing from you about my last two weeks of posts–and the many specific strategies that I’m sharing.  I believe I have 1-2 more posts to write to complete this series, at least at this time. Blessings to all!

 

A Druid’s Primer on Land Healing, Part VII: Self Care and Land Healing April 10, 2016

Today’s post continues my long series in land healing (see earlier posts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6), and given the heaviness of the last few weeks of posts, today, I wanted to delve into how to do this healing work and to stay happy, healthy, and sane. Today, I want to explore and voice some of these mental health concerns and share strategies for coping, addressing, and action.  And so, in this post, we’ll look first at some challenges to help us frame these overall issues, including the concept of solstalgia, and then we’ll explore a wide range of ways that we can engage in self-care on these issues: Having the tools and cultivating hope, supporting our adrenals and physical bodies with plants, supporting our souls with healing retreats and escapes, daily protective workings, working with the energies of light and life, bardic acts of expression, visiting well-tended places, and talking with it and more. And so, off we go!

 

One of my favorites sycamores to sit under and heal

One of my favorites sycamores to sit under and heal

Solstalgia

There is good cause to talk about the subject of mental health and self care in regards to the work of land healing–as I shared a bit last week, research is emerging on the mental health implications of  living in a rapidly depleting and crumbling world. And that research is only scratching the surface, really, of what people who are spiritually aware of these things and deeply connected with the land really experience!

 

I recently came across a psychological theory–solstalgia–that sheds great light onto today’s subject, so I’ll share it here. Nostalgia is, in the psychological sense, what happens to people who are distant from home and long to return–this often occurs with people who were refugees or other people forced to leave their homes for various reasons (no work, etc).  Solstalgia, which was proposed by Albrecht and colleagues in 2007, is a similar phenomenon, and describes the stress and mental health issues that people face when experiencing first-hand devastation of their home lands. Through a series of focus groups, interviews, and surveys, they explored how a rural population experienced massive surface mining operations and extreme drought; people who live among and experience large-scale environmental destruction had a range of negative emotions, a disconnection to their sense of place and belonging, descriptions of extreme duress, and a strong sense of powerlessness. This “environmentally induced stress” was particularly difficult to manage because it happened in one’s home environment, every day, and escaping it meant leaving home. They described these chronic stressors as “generally not seen” by mental health professionals or researchers.  Although this term was proposed in 2007, it hasn’t gained much traction in the time since: and I think that’s a problem.  The longer that we pretend this stuff doesn’t affect us, the more problematic it becomes.

 

I find this concept really useful to explain some of what I’ve been personally experiencing since returning to PA, and I wonder how it plays out not just in the short term, but over time.  As an herbalist, I know that short-term stressors can give way to long-term adrenal fatigue, and eventually, adrenal burnout, where a person is in a chronic state of prolonged stress that causes depression, apathy, lack of energy, and general ill health.  I sometimes wonder if that’s what is going on here, when people have been living for so long in this chronically stressed state.  And I think its important to realize that even if people aren’t as aware of the specific ecological consequences, this stuff is hard to avoid seeing. These implications are there, I have found, whether or not you are awake and paying attention to what is happening.  All of us, on some level, know things are changing and each of us have to find our own way through it.  For many, its, as I wrote about two weeks ago, ignoring it and choosing not to see.  Its a self-preservation response to avoid even more stress.I think when you begin to open your eyes, however, and really confront this stuff through land healing, there’s a different kind of level of awareness that takes place.  In choosing to see, you also choose to experience.  Some of that pain and suffering, invariably, goes within is, and if we aren’t careful, gets lodged there.  And so, for the remainder of the post, let’s explore some of those self-care strategies that can really help land healers along!

 

Supporting our Adrenals and Physical Bodies

Some nice nettles!

Some nice nettles!

On the practical level much of our stress is handled through the body’s automatic nervous system; chronic stress often puts us into a long-term sympathetic nervous system state. (Really, daily life in industrialized cultures in the 21st century does that already, and adding on some of these environmental stressors just pushes it over the edge). Our adrenal glands produce hormones that help our bodies deal with stress, but over time, they weaken and are taxed. Chronic fatigue syndrome can set in if we are not careful; and so, finding ways of reducing the stress and replenishing our adrenals are of critical concern.  Reducing the stress and supporting our adrenals has a number of different aspects: we need physical rest and rejuvenation (see below); we need a healthy diet (no caffeine, lots of nutrients and leafy greens); we need to work to reduce stress when possible; and we need plant allies that can help physically and mentally help reduce stress and rejuvenate.  I have had a tremendous amount of success with these plant allies in coping with my own stress (from work, from all this stuff) and wanted to share. Here are a few of my favorite plant allies that are easy to grow, local, and abundant for adrenal support and rebuilding:

 

  • Oats / Milky Oats (Avena Sativa): Oats are a gentle, powerful herb and a fantastic restorative, particularly for stabilizing and rebuilding the nervous system. Any oats are tonic and nurturing, but milky oats are most so. Jim McDonald writes in his Nettles, Oats and You: “Regular usage builds up both the structure and function of nervous and adrenal tissue, resulting in a lasting strengthening effect. It is especially well suited to nervous exhaustion due to debilitative nervous system disorders, overwork (mental or physical), drug abuse, or trauma and should be used during nay period of prolonged stress.” Even a bowl of oatmeal can be restorative in this way–and taking oatstraw or milky oats is all the better!
  • Lemon Balm (Melissa Officinalis): Helps us recover from nervous exhaustion, insomnia, or low spirits. Has a gentle and powerful effect on the central nervous system over time.  I find lemon balm a fantastic tea for after land healing work!
  • Stinging Nettles (Urtica Dioca): Stinging nettle is a first-rate adaptogen (herb that helps us adapt to stress) that restores depleted or exhausted adrenal gland. One of the many things they do is shift our bodies from “adrenal mode” (sympathetic nervous system) to a parasympathetic nervous system state. Jim McDonald writes in Nettles, Oats, and You, “I consider it, along with Burdock, one of the most universally beneficial herbs to use as a basis for restoring and maintaining well being.”  Nettle seeds and nettle leaf should be taken consistently, long term.  Nettle seeds work a little different than the leaf–the seeds provide stable energy, while the leaf I find is more rebuilding.  Yes, they sting–use gloves when you harvest them, and as soon as you cook them even a little, they stop stinging :).  They are well worth having a patch in your garden or yard!  I have these every day as part of my stress management regimen!

 

There are many more healing plants for rebuilding the adrenals and reducing stress. Others include astralagus, ashwaghanda, schizandra, elethro root, wood betony, skullcap, ginseng, blue vervain, passionflower, holy basil, and reishi. (I’ll also mention that my sister and I are in the process of starting a herbal healing blog, so I’ll be posting much more on this subject there and will let you know when I do!).

 

Supporting our Souls: Healing Retreat Space

Another important thing that you can do is get a way from it all, to have a healing retreat and space away from everything else. This needs to be a place that is free of the damage you are seeking to heal as a land healer and from other common stressors. A small spot in a protected state forest, a small garden in your back yard, a camping retreat, a quite spot in a park–somewhere that you can go and simply enjoy being in nature, in its regenerated state.  This stuff can wear and grate on you, and you need respite from it. I think that’s part of why this concept of solstalgia is so useful to think through–the reason its so bad is that you can’t get away from it, and once you are conscious you need to do so, you can seek ways of responding.

 

Daily Protective Workings

A daily protective magical working is critical to helping you maintain your balance as a land healer or simply as a person, awake and alive, in today’s times. Most modern estoteric traditions offer some kind of protective working. The primary one that I use comes from the AODA, which is called the Sphere of Protection. I really love this ritual–it takes about 5 minutes a day, and it does a number of key things: invoking positive qualities of the elements, banishing negative qualities of the elements, connecting to the three currents, and creating a sphere of protection around the physical, etheric, and astral body.  I wrote about it more extensively for our first issue of Trilithon, which is now available freely online here.  Its a ritual that takes some time to learn; the best place to learn it is in either of John Michael Greer’s books: The Druidry Handbook or The Druid Magic Handbook.  I can give a brief synopsis of it here, however.

 

First, the Druid begins by invoking the four power (in some form: elements, dieties, archangels, etc) and physically and
energetically forming an Elemental Cross while standing facing north. Second, the Druid invokes the four elemental gateways by invoking positive qualities of the four elemental energies (Air, Fire, Water, Earth) and banishing the negative qualities of those elements in each of the four quarters.  As the druid does this, she moves through each of the quarters, drawing symbolism for each of the directions, calling in each element verbally, and using visual components.  And then she does the same thing as she banishes to drive away negativity. The Druid then invokes the remaining three gateways: the telluric current (Spirit Below), the solar current (Spirit Above), and the lunar current (Spirit Within)
using language, action, and visualization. The final part of the SOP draws upon these seven energies and circulates light in a protective sphere. This protective sphere is most typically placed around a person.

 

If the SOP doesn’t float your boat, you can do other kinds of rituals.  A good one is the Summoning or Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram (you want to alternate between summoning and banishing in order to achieve balance in your life).  Be aware that not all daily rituals that druid orders offer are protective: OBOD’s light body exercise is a rejuvenating and energizing ritual, and is extremely useful in its own right, but it is not protective in nature.  I like to use it in conjunction with the SOP or when I’m doing other kinds of work, but I don’t depend on it to keep the gunk off of me as I go throughout my daily living!

 

 

A fanatastic example of the energies of life and light--frog eggs from my parents' pond. I am so excited to meet them when they emerge!

A fantastic example of the energies of life and light–frog eggs from my parents’ pond that I saw the last time I visited them. I am so excited to meet them when they emerge!

Working with Energies of Light and Life

One of the other things that’s important to keep in mind is the balance of life and death, of light and darkness. We have both in our lives, and certainly, if you are doing land healing work (particularly the kind I talked about last week) you will see your fair share of pain and darkness. You can’t be doing the hard work of palliative care, working wit sites that will be destroyed and other forms of land healing constantly or it will fatigue you. It’s important that you go to the spaces that are abundant, and alive, and rejuvenate your energies there.  It’s important that you take frequent breaks from this work to balance your energies. I think its easy to fall into the trap of seeing everything as destroyed or damaged–and depending where you live, the balance of those things may be off–but there are always places where it isn’t so.  Even focusing on the dandelions growing up out of the sidewalk, rejuvenating compacted soil and bringing the blessings of healing medicine, is so important!

 

Embrace the magic of the spring, of the seed and of the promise of rebirth and life.  Grow some sprouts or start some seedsKeep a garden.  Bring in light into your physical home and life–open the windows, embrace the sun.  If you work with deities, make sure you work with some that focus on life and living. If you do yearly celebrations, you do all of them, and use the spring holidays for your own healing and rejuvenation.

 

Bardic Arts and Creative Expression

Of course, spending time cultivating your own creative gifts can be a source of healing energy and life–and is a critical balance for you if you are engaging in difficult healing work. I especially like to do this through my painting and ecoprinting work–I like to bring in the energies of life and light, and paint them in ways that help others embrace the energies of the earth.  I wrote about this much more extensively on my post on permaclture and self care.

 

Visiting Well-Tended and Well-Loved Natural Spaces

Me on a winter trip to Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh, PA. This whimsical space is in the middle of their orchid room!

Me on a winter trip to Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh, PA. This whimsical space is in the middle of their orchid room!

Another excellent balance for this more difficult land healing work is to spend time visiting places where humans are cultivating the land carefully, meaningfully, and with love.  This is another way to bring light and life back into your life and help drive away the darkness. Any small organic family farm often fits this bill, as do places like botanical gardens, nature sanctuaries, retreat centers, botanical sanctuaries, permaculure design sites, and more.  Time spent here, even a few hours, can really help you remember that lots of good people are doing good healing work in the world, and helping keep the scales balanced.

 

Talking About It with Others

Just speaking about your feelings, especially surrounding the stuff that I opened this post with, I believe is a really important part of our own healing work.  We have to, as Joanna Macy suggests, come to terms with what is happening, be able to voice our grief and pain about what we see, and find ways forward.  JMG talks about this as going through the stages of grief and working toward acceptance–and we do need to do that inner work.  I have found that talking to others about this really, really helps move me forward.  I know I’m not alone.  I know that others share my concerns, feel what I feel, and there is great release! (I think we even do some of this here, on the blog, for those that are scattered at a distance!)

 

 

 

Having the Tools in Hand and Embracing the Power of Hope

Being in the mindest of hope and having the tools is another especially important part of this self care practice.  I think that a lot of us feel powerless, disempowered, hopeless, and that is the worst thing.  That kind of thinking leads down a dark path that you do not want to walk.  Instead, I encourage you to focus on the power of hope even as you go about healing the destruction of others.  A personal example, here, might best illustrate this point.  As I frequently write on this blog, my primary way forward has been through my integration of many sustaining and regenerative practices that fall under my path of druidry: permaculture design, wildcrafting and wildtending, land healing, herbalism, ritual and celebration, inhabiting the world gently, and more. I have found that the more I focus on the good I can do, the better I feel. I think I was at my lowest with this stuff around 2008-2010, before I discovered and began practicing permaculture and herbalism.  As a druid that had been waking up and paying attention for a few years at that point, I was hit with the enormity of it all, but I had lacked the tools for change, lacked a lot of the healing approaches of any kind (physical or spiritual).  And so, instead, I kind of brooded on it, thought about it a lot, sat with it, but didn’t know what to do. I think my original edition of the Tarot of Trees book really reflects that state of mind: I wrote an introduction that was kind of demoralizing and talking about what was happening like a giant wave that nobody could stop–I was painting the trees in honor of the ones that had been cut. Consequently, when I re-released the Tarot of Trees 3rd edition eariler this year, I created a new card called “regeneration” and rewrote a good deal of the opening of the book to reflect that hope and renewed perspective. I give this example because the difference in what I wrote, and how I thought, had everything to do with the empowering tools of hope–and I found those tools through integrating my spiritual practice of druidry with the practical tools of permaculture.  I was now doing something, something that was making a difference, and that was incredibly important.  Melancholia strikes us all at times about this stuff–but its about not staying in that space that can help us keep moving forward.

 

Ultimately, a lot of what I share on this blog is  response to all of this–the power of doing something.  I talked about the implications of doing something in my post earlier this year, on making a difference, and how its the act of trying, of exerting effort, that really is key for our own growth.  It heals us, it heals our lands, and it helps, I believe, brighten our very souls. My solution to the solastalgia, to the destruction, is to do what I can to build a better today and a brighter tomorrow and to equip myself with the best tools to do so: the esoteric and spiritual practices of druidry, the knowledge and ethics of permaulcture, and a smattering of other good stuff: ecology, herbalism, natural building, playing in the mud, painting trees, community activism, and more.  I hope you’ll continue with me on this journey–because more land healing posts–and a lot of other things–are to follow!

 

A Druid’s Primer on Land Healing, Part VI: Working with Sites that Will Be Destroyed April 2, 2016

As I’ve mentioned throughout this series, the energetic land healing work that you do is largely based on the situation at hand–what is occurring, what has occurred, or what will occur. Sometimes, you are aware in advance that the land will be severely damaged or destroyed. Trees being cut down for new human structures, pipelines being put in the ground, new strip malls being built, new highways going in, scheduled logging, routine “cutting” of trees under power lines, massive surface mining operations and mountaintop removal, and much, much more are very common these days. Lands and waterways all over the place are under duress at present, and this kind of destruction is common in every corner of the world. Its one thing to hear about these issues, and its another thing to be directly confronted with them.  Today’s post is going to look at what we can do to help energetically and physically with sites that are going to be destroyed.  We’ll also briefly explore the self care strategies necessary for this kind of work. Today, we tackle what I consider to be the hardest situation of healing work: knowing that impending destruction will take place–and being willing to do something about it.

 

Note: Today’s post continues my land healing series, and if you haven’t read the earlier posts, I would strongly suggest you read them in order first, as this post builds on the previous ones and doesn’t explain terms that I’ve gone into depth with before. Here are links to the full series: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, and Part V.

 

Remember that THIS is why we heal the land!

Remember that THIS is why we heal the land!

Self Care Strategies, Mental Health, and Environmental Destruction

Going to a place that will be destroyed prior to its destruction, holding space for it, and witnessing the aftermath, is in my opinion one of the hardest situations to work with as a land healer.  And so, before we can attend to the land, I want to briefly through the mental health implications of such work.  Grist magazine recently ran a story on the mental health implications of mountaintop removal, one of the first stories I’ve ever seen on this topic. As the article suggests, the loss of “homeplace”, places where one grew up or is intimately connected with the land, has severe mental health consequences.  Of particular note, high rates of clinical depression and higher rates of suicide are linked with such destruction. While the Grist article focused on mountaintop removal, other articles and studies have looked at the overall linkage to environmental destruction and mental health in places all over the globe; one study in Australia is of particular note. I don’t really think we need scientific studies to tell us how bad watching environmental destruction is firsthand is–however, maybe knowing there is scientific research helps us feel less “unbalanced” or “crazy” after working on such a site. What I really worry about are the people who feel nothing, the people who actively destroy.

 

The truth is, This is the really difficult stuff, the stuff you wish you didn’t have to see, the stuff you wish you didn’t have to experience.  No amount of daily protective or energetic work takes away that pain and suffering that you feel as a witness. I just want to clarify that, and tell you that it’s OK to feel this way. As I wrote about last week, part of what we have to do is start acknowledging, paying attention, and holding space.  It’s also OK if you feel you can’t handle something, or if you have to step back for a bit.  This stuff is overwhelming at times (especially depending on where you live).  I’ve been feeling a bit unbalanced in this regard since coming back to PA because of the many kinds of destruction here present: logging, fracking, mountaintop removal, acid mine runoff, factory pollution–to name a few.  Its hard to deal with seeing this stuff everywhere, often, and even trying to go into a natural place free of fracking wells, for example, is a difficult thing to do.

 

Given this, its important that as we do various healing work on sites–particularly those that will be destroyed or undergoing active harm–we practice self care. I have found, personally, that doing this energetic work outlined here in this post really helps me overcome the strain and pain of these kinds of situations.  For me, painting through it, or playing my flute, or visiting places that are protected for rejuvenation also helps (I’ll write about this in more detail in an upcoming post).  I’ll also note that going to places that are actively regenerating, and looking for the regeneration, and regenerating it physically is another way to work through the trauma.  But its there, and its real, and we can talk openly about it and acknowledge it for what it is.  And with that said, let’s look at some specific strategies for healing for sites that will be destroyed.

 

Strategies for Land Healing on Sites that Will Be Destroyed

 

Experiencing the powerlessness of visiting a site that will be destroyed is difficult, but you are not actually powerless.  I learned this lesson in Michigan–we had a replacement oil pipeline coming in, cutting across the whole state, to replace an old pipeline that was no longer in use.  The new pipeline required a lot of digging up of the earth, cutting of trees, damaging the land, and it was really awful (I blogged about it a bit here and some of the restoration work here; I also wrote about oil pipelines energetically here). This particular pipeline was doubly damaging because the pipeline was pumping tar sands oil through its veins, and that’s really bad stuff for the land. A good friend of mine had a number of acres of forests that would be cut along the pipeline route. She asked me to come and do what I could for the trees and the land, as a druid. And so, I and a few others came together and did what we could–and we were rather amazed by the experience.  I can tell you this–doing something, the somethings outlined here, make a world of difference when compared with doing nothing.  I’ll also mention that a lot of what you can do on such a site depends on if its private or public, and so I’m going to share some strategies that can work for different kinds of sites.  Most of these are energetic healing strategies, but a few have physical components as well, and doing some work on both levels is really effective.

 

Skunk cabbage coming back after the land has done some healing!

Skunk cabbage coming back after the land has done some healing!

Communicating with the land. I begin this kind of work by speaking with the land, using both inner and outer approaches.  For those who don’t know what I mean here, I would suggest reviewing my discussions of connecting with trees on the inner and outer planes–most of what I wrote in those posts applies.  I share with the land what I know will happen and when, and listen to what it responds in turn.  I offer to help and ask it of its needs.  Sometimes, I am asked to return at a later date.  Sometimes, I am asked to leave and not return.  But most of the time, I’m asked to stay and help as I am able.  This, as I wrote in the post on the process of unfolding, is the necessary first step.

 

Saving Seeds and Transplanting. For trees that will be cut, places that will be destroyed, etc, I highly advocate transplanting and saving seeds.  Even a single plant saved from a site that will be destroyed can be a very healing action.  For example, when my friend’s land was being logged in Michigan, I gathered hawthorn haws and apples from the trees; these I planted in fields where they would have a chance to grow.  I also saved a New England Aster plant that I transplanted to my homestead, and saved seeds from a number of other plants.  You can’t save everything, but you can save a few key things, and the land and her spirits find this kind of work extraordinarily healing. Even more powerful–if you save the seeds from those that will be lost, and later, you can go replant them in the same spot–you are engaging in extremely powerful healing work. I’ll also say that if you can bless those seeds, using something like what I wrote about here, and then replant them, that’s even better. What this does, essentially, is ensure a future for some of the plants and trees. You are saving this land’s offspring and future offspring. There is nothing more sacred and powerful than that act.

 

Now there is a whole other layer to this, I’ve discovered, through the practice of herbal medicine.  The seeds I mentioned above that I gathered are all healing plants and trees.  New England Aster, for example, is a fantastic lung relaxant plant and something that a number of people now take for treating asthma and other lung conditions (myself included!) When I replanted that New England Aster plant, I saved its seeds and I harvested some of the flowers each year for medicine. That medicine was shared with others.  So were the seeds–I started them–growing new asters, that I’ve given to people and made medicine from (in fact, I have some downstairs right now growing for new friends here in PA!)  Think about that energetically–here is a site that is devalued through human activity. When nature is replaced with something else, whether that is a strip mall, an oil pipeline, and so forth, the message is that nature is of little to no value in its current form. But, through herbal medicine, plant, and seed saving,  I’ve given that land a different narrative.  Showing that the plants it holds, through their very nature, are valued.

 

The New England Aster seeds

Saving the seeds…

Putting the Land in Hibernation. One of the best things you can do in this circumstance, and what a lot of these other strategies that I describe next are getting at, is to put the land in stasis or hibernation energetically, to help it disconnect in some way from the pain and suffering that will happen. This is really the underlying key this kind of work. If you can find a way to lower the energetic vibrations and consciousness of the land, to disconnect it, to help send its spirits away, that is the best thing you can do. Its kind of like giving a suffering person a pain killer–it helps make the process bearable, even though its still painful.  We’ll look at a number of techniques aimed at doing this–and you can also let your own intuition guide you in this respect.

 

 

Working with the Stones. I have found, at times, that with logging or other surface destruction (something that is not impacting the bedrock), you can preserve the energetic patterns of the land by sending them into them into the bedrock, into the soil, beneath the land.  This is another “putting the land to sleep” kind of strategy, and one that is particularly powerful. The rocks can hold this energy for a time, sometimes, a very long time. Its hard to put this practice into words.  Essentially, every living landscape has knowledge, wisdom, energetic patterns, that are in need of preservation in the face of destruction.  These energetic patterns are part of the land uses to heal and regenerate when the time is right.  I believe, that if you do this work with the stones before destruction, it can help regenerate the land much more effectively once regeneration can occur.

 

Part of the reason that this works was revealed to me when I was at Ohiopyle State Park in the Laurel Highlands region of PA late last year. I was walking there with a fellow druid and dear friend, and we came across all of these fossils there on the edge of the Youghiogheny river. The fossils were from very ancient forests, ancient trees and branches, shells and more. I realized, at that moment, that the stones and the living landscape were extremely intimately connected–the stones themselves had been living plants at one time–and now they are all beneath the living landscape. I had been using these connections could be used for healing work for some time, but this realization helped me understand why.  These stones, fossilized stones in particular (of which we have layers all over the planet) can handle living resonances particularly well.  And hold them for as long as necessary.

 

My method of doing this is simple–I enter a state of meditation and open myself up to the rhythms and flows of the land.  I explain what is happening, and show the spirits of the land what I could do with regards to the stones. If I get the affirmative, I essentially take those same energetic patterns, and, using the solar current, push them deep within the stones, deeper than any destruction can go. IMoving energy in this way can take a lot of effort–and a lot of practice.  Many of the energy healing practices (like Reiki) or magical practices help attune you to the movement, raising, and flowing of energy, and so those are particularly helpful for doing this work, especially on a larger scale.  Reiki practice and other esoteric forms of energy work, for example, teach you how to work with others’ energy (whether that other is a person, plant, or landscape) while not sacrificing your own or sending your own somewhere else.  Make sure, if you are doing this work, that you are practicing extreme caution in this regard.  Otherwise, this work can be extraordinarily depleting, which is not what we are going for!

 

I’ll also note that this particular “stone” technique would not be as effective for fracking and mountaintop removal.  Oil pipelines that go only 10 or 20 feet below the surface would probably be OK. I am in the process, now, of developing strategies for the fracking wells and mountaintop removal–and when I’ve done so, I can share those as well.

 

This is ghost pipe when its a little past its prime and is going to seed. There is a wild bumblebee on the flower! You can also see the dried ghost pipe sticking up as they complete their growth cycle.

This is ghost pipe when its a little past its prime and is going to seed. There is a wild bumblebee on the flower! You can also see the dried ghost pipe sticking up as they complete their growth cycle.

Working with Ghost Pipe to Distance the Pain. One particular plant spirit energy is good for this kind of work, especially for when the destruction starts happening or is ongoing. Its a plant called Indian Ghost Pipe, Ghost Flower, Indian pipe (Latin Name: Monotropa Uniflora). This plant, when used for human herbal healing, offers distancing from pain and suffering or, as Sean Donohue writes, it helps in “putting the pain beside you.” Ghost pipe also functions as a plant that helps cross the boundaries between the worlds, very useful when destruction is imminent or just beginning. I have worked extensively with this plant over a period of years, and I have found it to be an extremely potent ally for land healing work–both for you as the healer and for the land.

 

What this plant does, energetically, is essentially provide a buffer to the pain and suffering the land experiences both before the event and in the middle of ongoing destruction.  Its an exceedingly good plant to use for palliative care applications as well as this specific one.

 

Usually, to work with this plant spirit in land healing, I will do one of several things.  My first method is to see if there are any ghost pipes growing on the land (they come out in midsummer, after good rains, usually for me here that’s late June into July and August).  If they are present, I sit and connect with them.  A lot of times though, Ghost Pipe isn’t present on the land.  And so for this, I tincture the plant (I make a tincture in the same method of my write up on magical crafting and hawthorn). Note Ghost pipe is particularly watery, so a high proof alcohol is needed for the tincture.  I water the tincture down quite a bit, putting a dozen or so drops in fresh spring water (blessed through a healing ritual). Then, when I go to do the land healing work, I will bring the ghost pipe-blessed water with me, dropping it at intervals around the location, usually on trees and roots. If I can, I will try to drop it on at least the four quarters of the space, or find other prominent markers (large dominant trees work well).  Alternatively, if bringing the ghost pipe tincture and spring water isn’t possible, I will place the tincture on some stones that I will bless, and then bring them with me to the site. If I don’t have any tincture or stones, I can still summon this plant in my mind’s eye, and envision the Indian pipe rising up out of the ground and covering the land (I’ve used that particular strategy when I witness suffering–like a truckload of factory farmed chickens going off to the slaughter while driving down the highway, for example).  This year, I’m also going to make a magical anointing oil with ghost pipe (probably dried ghost pipe due to its high water content) and use that as well.

 

I would suggest if you want to use this plant in the manner I am suggesting here, you should start cultivating a relationship with it in your own life: finding it in the forest, sitting with it, tincturing it, taking some tincture when you need it, etc. In fact, it works extraordinarily well in regards to giving you processing space from the mental health difficulties associated with this work.  This plant is extremely distinctive and nearly impossible to mistake for another (and yes, its a plant, not a mushroom).

 

A recent painting of ghost pipe I did to study the plant further

A recent painting of ghost pipe I did to study the plant further

I will end by saying that Ghost Pipe has a tremendously large range in North America (see this link).  However, if you live outside of its range or in a different part of the world, I am certain that you can find another plant with similar features–you’ll need to consult local herbals (or herbalists, medicine makers, wild men/women, etc); alternatively, you can trade for some from someone living in an area where it grows (like me!).

 

Distance Palliative Care and Healing Work

A final technique that I’ll share for now involves taking a stone or some other natural thing from the land (a piece of branch, etc) that can then be worked on further at a distance. I did this kind of work when I was in Michigan a lot with regards to this pipeline and some other sites that needed ongoing palliative care–if I felt led, I would take a stone with me and bring it to a special altar I had setup on my homestead. The altar had protective warding around it (both stones and water) that helped shield the rest of my sacred sanctuary from anything that might be brought in with the linked stone. Then, at regular intervals, I would do whatever healing work I could–play music there, just sit there and hold space, pour blessed water over the stone, etc.  Sometimes, at a later point, I would return the stone to the land. Sometimes, it would stay for a long period of time, just sitting there.  I use my intuition in this regard.

 

I think that’s enough for this week–I’m over 3000 words here, and there’s lots more to say.  We’ll continue to work through these different techniques–and I look forward to hearing your thoughts and experiences with what I’ve just posted.

 

A Druid’s Primer on Land Healing, Part II: Energetic Healing vs. Palliative Care February 20, 2016

In my post last week, I discussed the different ways that we might heal the land including physical land healing, healing human-land connections, and various forms of energetic healing. Today, I want to delve deeply into the  aspects of energetic land healing, and further probe the difference between energetic healing work and energetic palliative care. I think this distinction is critical for how to develop rituals and how to work with the energy of the land in various ways.

 

To do this, I’m going to share with you a few different kinds of sites in my immediate surroundings in Western PA and look at the circumstances under which these sites might be healed. In fact, I’m picking some of the worst sites I know of physically on my present landscape here in Western PA–I figure that if we can talk about land healing at the worst kinds of sites that I know of, we can do quite a bit with smaller sites with less damage.  So here we go, with a visit to the boney dump and fracking well!

 

The Mountains of PA (Cambria County, looking out onto Bedford and Somerset Counties)

The Mountains of PA (Cambria County, looking out onto Bedford and Somerset Counties)

Energetic Healing vs. Palliative Care

As I established last week, there are (at least) two different kinds of energetic work you can do on the land:

 

Energetic Land Healing  implies that you are raising some kind of positive energy to help enliven, awaken, and rejuvenate the land. One way to think about this energy is like giving someone who is has had an extended sickness some good chicken soup and herbs that are restorative and energizing in nature, and helping set them more firmly on their path towards healing. You may help someone who hasn’t walked in a while get up and take a few steps and encourage them in many ways. This energizes them, it enlivens them, and it allows them to more quickly heal from their illness. Energetic land healing functions in much the same way, with the goal being to raise positive energy for the land to help it regenerate physically and spiritually.

 

If you go to a place in desperate need of energetic healing, you’ll often feel a deadness there, a wrongness, either stagnation like nothing is moving, or other energetic problems.  It may be very closed off and skittish, like an abused animal, withdrawing and staying far away from any sign of new potential abuse.  I usually feel these feelings in the pit of my stomach.  Our English language lacks good terminology for how this feels, but its that heaviness and sadness you feel at a site that has been severely damaged and is struggling to heal, and doesn’t want humans to enact any more damage.  The longer the abuse has gone on, and the most serious the abuse, the more you’ll feel it using whatever spiritual senses you have (heck, even people not very attuned usually can feel it at strong sites). The site, as it regrows and heals, eventually resonates differently, feeling healthier and happier as the land can regrow around it. But you’ll also see the first signs of regrowth and life at these sites.  (Most of my experience in this area, by the way, is from logged forests and poisoned rivers returning to health–its possible that different kinds of sites would resonate differently than I’m describing here!)

 

Palliative care is a very different thing.  There are places on our physical landscape that do not need a jolt of healing energy–they need the opposite.  They need to be put to sleep, to be reduced in vibration and awareness, because the pain is just too great. Sites where active pain and suffering on behalf of the land, the animals, and anything else there are good examples: and as I’ll demonstrate in the latter part of this post, poisoned waterways and fracking sites are two of those sites.

 

Energetically, sites in need of palliative care often feel differently than those in need of energetic healing.  Usually, sites in need of palliative care feel like they are actively suffering.  They are awake through a horrific experience, and they actively suffer and mourn.  For example, once I was driving to a friend’s house on a new route and I was struck with this awful feeling–suffering, pain, misery, all through my stomach.  I had to pull over, and as I did, I got out of the car and climbed up on the ridge to see what lay beyond it.  There was an enormous strip mine that was stripping the land for gravel–hundreds of acres, horrible pools of chemically treated water.  It felt utterly horrible (nearly all of these kinds of mines do, I’ve found in the time since).  I uttered a short prayer for the land, promised to return, and went home and decided my next course of action (I didn’t feel prepared that day, and I had to meditate on what to do for the mine). This was a site not in need of energetic healing (as it was actively being destroyed) but palliative care.

 

Actively destroyed sites aren’t the only ones in need of palliative care, however. The most tragic, perhaps, are the sites that are fine at present, but are destined to be destroyed or stripped in the near future.  These are the hardest cases, in my opinion, because you are powerless to stop what is going to happen and the vibrant, living beings there are trapped and powerless–fear and mourning often radiates these sites. But here, you can do something, and that something is palliative care. You might think about a forest that is about to be logged or is in the process of being logged, but the loggers haven’t yet gotten to the area where you are at. The last thing you want to do is inject this space with healing energy and light–you want to put it to sleep, to soothe the wounds, to try to provide some energetic distance between the forest and the chainsaw. I’ve found myself in the position, many more times than I would have liked to experience. I shared suggestions for individual trees here, but I will add to those suggestions at the end of this article.

 

The key for energetic land healing vs. palliative care is in the nature of the damage, the nature of the healing, and the current situation of the site. To illustrate the finer points between them, let’s take a walk through Western Pennsylvania and see two critical situations that call for very different kinds of healing responses: the boney dump and the fracking well.

 

The Boney Dump: A Call for Physical and Energetic Healing

All through the landscape in Pennsylvania you can find what is known locally as a “boney dump” (they are also referred to as spoil tips, boney heaps, pit heaps, or gob piles in other parts of the world). They are common in areas where any kind of deep mining took place, and they basically represent everything that came out of the mine that wasn’t what was actually being mined. Because theses sites are near old mining operations, they may also have water ponds designed to collect some of the worst acid mine runoff (which pollutes local streams and makes them, in our neck of the woods, sulfurous and poisoned).

Boney Dump from Google Maps

Boney Dump with runoff pools (from Google Maps)

In the photo above is a really bad boney site, compliments of Google maps–it has various nasty colored ponds and pools full of various kinds of sediment they are trying to keep out of the waterways (which doesn’t usually work) along with the boney pile itself (which you can see in the bottom left of the image as well as in the bottom right–the areas that look like a pile of gravel with only a few trees or that look mostly bare). Most of the mines around here closed in the 1970’s or so, but some of these piles are much, much older than that. In 45+ years, they have not regrown in all of that time. After 1978, the US government required that companies “clean up” old mining sites with the passage of the Mine Reclamation Act. But a lot of these sites were there long before the cleanup act took place. And even for new sites, there is the letter of the law and the actuality of the law in practice. Let’s take a look at a site that was “regenerated” by the mining company. These are photos from the same site, just on the ground.

Runoff from a boney dump

The photo above shows a runoff area from a boney dump and some of those pools; poor management means that this is never regrown because it floods each year. Trees, plants, and so on can’t get enough traction to regrow. Of course, there is no soil at all on this site, so nothing can get traction even without the floods (see next photo).

Not much grows on a boney dump (this site has been "regenerated" by mining companies 30+ years ago, and still this is all that there is here!)

This is an area that doesn’t get flooded and is relatively flat, and yet, it still has not regrown either (this site was “regenerated” in the late 1970’s).  The site has no soil to speak of, and it lacks the biological diversity and scattered seeds to even begin to regrow soil.  They did plant some scrub grass, some red pine trees (see the trees in the background there), which barely make it on the soil.  Even the grass struggles to survive here, growing on straight rock.  Over fifty years, and still nothing is really growing.

 

So in terms of healing, we certainly have our work cut out for ourselves at these sites that span hundreds of acres and are dotted all over the landscape. I think its sad because when I was growing up, because these sites were all over the place, I never gave them much thought–its just how it was.  I think a lot of people feel that way–you don’t really talk about the sulfur creek or boney dump, you just kind of ignore them and avoid them.

 

And so part of the active healing work is simply acknowledging them and spending time with them, recognizing that these lands are in need of healing and of human touch.  However, given the enormity of these problems at these sites, if it weren’t for my druid path and permaculture design, I’d be at a complete loss as to what to do, and would probably cry for it and move on, or ignore it like the other locals. But no! We are going to do something to heal these damaged lands (and I feel a particular resonance with the old mine sites, given that so many of my own ancestors were miners). Around here they are abundant and take up thousands of acres–driving 5-10 miles in any direction is likely to have you encountering one or more of them.

 

How would we classify this boney dump in terms of the healing work at hand?  We must classify it both in terms of its relationship with people at present as well as its ability to regenerate. The good news is that the people doing the damage got what they want and are, for the most part, long gone, and with the exception of the acid mine runoff (which is a problem being actively addressed by a number of municipalities in the area), these sites are pretty much left alone. The mines aren’t here any longer and most of this land is essentially a no-man’s land.  Because nobody visits these sites, these are places that nobody cares about. This means, to me, the boney dumps represent the exact kind of place where you can heal on the physical and the energetic levels and do so effectively.

 

I truthfully feel more confident, at present, in my energetic healing abilities for these sites and that’s where the bulk of my first set of efforts have been going. Due to the lack of life and extremely long-term suffering, and the stifling of nature’s own ability to heal, these sites have a kind of numbness and deadness. These are the feelings that comes from lands that have been stripped bare for centuries–there is hardly any stirring of the earth energies, what is known as the telluric, in these sites. I’ll share too that before these sites were mined, they were clear cut, as I discovered from old photos of many of the sites.

 

This means we are talking, likely, several centuries of damage on the part of humans. What these sites need, then, to help jump start the healing is the burst of energy that can help these lands energetically and later physically heal (going back to the as within, so without principle). Given this, these lands are prime targets for some of the energetic healing work discussed above: they won’t be damaged again, nobody bothers with them, they are many, they are remote and open, and they are in prime need of healing. I’ll explore some of the ways of doing this at the end of this post and in my next post.

 

On the matter of physical healing (also discussed in my last post),  I’ve only returned to PA six months ago, but I’ve already taken my first steps in working out a plan using permaculture design principles to help heal a small patch of one of these sites to see what techniques will be effective. This plan is in its infancy stages, and its is part of why I was so interested in seed balls and refugia! To start my work, I have been scattering seeds for plants that can help build soil if they are able to take root–I believe its the soil-less nature, combined with mostly black shale that heats up and cooks all summer long, makes the sites inhospitable to plant life and susceptible to terrible erosion.  The stuff that is on the surface shouldn’t be there, so the best thing I can work to do is to bury it again! This is a slow process, and I’ll report on the physical angle more after I’ve done more experimentation on the boney dump I’ve adopted for this purpose :). At this point, I don’t know if any of my physical healing methods will work, but I am going to keep trying.

 

The Fracking Well: Palliative Care

Most people these days are aware, at least in a theoretical sense, of the problem with fracking wells and fracking more generally on the landscape.  But seeing these wells firsthand, feeling the horribleness of the energies that surround them, is an entirely different thing. Its like something goes heavy and cold in the pit of your stomach; they have a very toxic, burdened energy.  Many of the wells that have been there for a long time have literally an unsettling deadness that creeps into your bones the longer you stand near them.  But also at the site of the well, so much suffering is taking place–suffering, mourning, and sadness from the life that is stuck near the well.  You can feel that suffering, actively, in the plants and land directly around the well.

 

The active gas fracking well, as well as conventional gas well, is a site of damage to the land, to the waters, to the air, to wildlife, to the human populations–everyone and everything around these wells suffer.  People who are working near them are poisoned. The surface of the land is stripped to put in the well, disrupting the ecosystem. Gas companies spray around the well several times each year to keep the grass down.  They visit the wells frequently, “maintaining” the site, tearing up the land with their trucks and leaving, sometimes, pools of oil near the wells just exposed to the air.  They have huge tanks of water that have poison signs on them that make the air all around the well stink and smell really foul.  The waters beneath the land are poisoned and that poisoning creeps into waterways and into people’s drinking water.  The physical land beneath the site is poisoned. They are all over the place around here–I even found a number of different kinds of wells all through the Allegheny national forest, a site supposed to be “preserved” and instead is being actively desecrated:

View from Google Maps of active oil exploitation in the Allegheny National Forest in North-Eastern PA

View from Google Maps of active oil exploitation in the Allegheny National Forest in North-Eastern PA

Below is a photo of a conventional gas well (still very bad, but not as bad as fracking) on public land near where I live. This area was once all forest, now cleared and mowed to allow for the drilling equipment and the gas pipelines.

 

If you are wondering how this is possible, how so many of these wells of any kind are on public land, the answer is a bit complex and the reasons multiple.  But one of the big reasons has a lot to do with who owns the “mineral rights.” Many mineral rights here in PA are often disconnected from “surface rights” so companies who own the mineral rights have the right to get at them, destroying the surface in the process. There’s a lot of fossil fuel under the ground in the Marcellus shale, and people can make a quick buck by keeping their land and selling the mineral rights to the gas or mining companies: and that’s exactly what’s been happening here for over 100 years. (Its pretty much the equivalent of the water rights issue in the Western USA).

Example of cleared land around active well

Example of cleared land around active well

There are so many of these active fracking wells in Pennsylvania, and because of the active and ongoing damage, there isn’t a lot that you can do at these sites beyond palliative care. Physical land refrigeration, obviously, is not appropriate. But energetic land healing isn’t incorporate either. These are sites that are actively being harmed, over and over again. The pain and suffering is compounded through the systematic poisoning of the land, the water system, the plant and animal life, the human life, and the telluric currents (energies of the earth). And, the full long-term implications are as of yet unknown, and likely won’t be known, for several generations. Physical and energetic healing work will be left for our children, and our children’s children, and generations not yet born.

 

Given all this, palliative care is extraordinarily effective for these sites. For one, palliative care can do a number of things that energetic healing cannot, namely: helping to contain damage (sealing energetically), helping to preserve memories and resonances in the land, helping mitigate suffering on every level, putting the land “to sleep”, clearing some of the worst of the negativity. And, in doing this work, you can witness.

 

This wraps up my discussion of boney dumps and fracking wells and their relationship to energetic land healing.  I’m glad these sites have been used to serve at least a little good, in the sense that they helped convey a critical point on our journey of land healing–which will continue across the next few posts.