The Druid's Garden

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

Walking Meditation Garden with Hugelkultur Beds June 24, 2018

As a practitioner of permaculture and as a druid, I am always looking for ways to work with the land to create sacred and ecologically healthy spaces.  That is, to create self-sustaining ecosystems that produce a varitey of yields: create habitat, offer nectar and pollen, systems that retain water and nutrients, offer medicine and food, create beauty and magic.  But conventional gardens, even sheet mulched gardens, can falter in water scarce conditions.  So building gardens long-term for resiliency and with a variety of climate challenges in mind is key.  At the same time, I am also looking to create sacred gardens, that is, not just places to grow food (which is simple enough) but to develop sacred relationships and deepen my connection with the living earth. Given all of this, I developed a design for a butterfly-shaped garden that would use hugelkultur raised beds and allow for a space for walking meditation and ritual.

 

Meditation Garden

Meditation Garden

When I came to the new homestead late last year, one thing was clear–any gardening was going to be rough going with the acidic, heavy clay soil full of rocks.  Digging down into the sunny part of the yard that was once excavated for a pool revealed virtually topsoil or humus content–basically, I was going to have to grow on clay subsoil.  A soil test revealed practically no phosphorous either.  Becuase I also have abundant wood on the property, digging down and creating some hugelkutur beds seemed like a great idea.

 

Hugelkutur beds were popularized by Sepp Holzer and discussed in his book Sepp Holzer’s Permaculture. They are used widely around the world as a way to create beds that are enormously productive due to their ability to create vibrant soil biology and hold copious amounts of water. The key to these beds is sinking a good amount of wood–large pieces–that slowly rots down over time. As the wood rots, it becomes a spongy mass ready to hold water.

 

The Hugelkultur beds certainly take some sweat equity, but they will pay out dividends in the long run. Each year that passes, more and more moisture will be held in the bed from the wood.  Microbial life will flourish in this wonderful, undisturbed system of nutrients and roots. Each year with the hugels is more abundant and productive than the last as the underlying soil structure grows more connected and diverse.

 

Choices for Hugels

One of the challenges with Hugelkultur is doing it without heavy equipment or fossil fuels. I’ve seen people make amazing hugels using a backhoe, tractor with an attachment, etc. They dig a big hole then use the machinery to pile up even more wood, making these enormous hugels. I don’t have knowledge of how to operate such machinery, so I was going to do mine on a smaller scale by hand. The question is–what can we do by hand, given these conditions?  Can we still make abundant and productive hugels on a smaller scale?

 

One of the key conditions for us was the heavy clay soil–when it rained, the water pooled in the space.  I thought that if we dug down, then the water would pool in there a bit, being able to be sucked up by the rotting wood.  After digging out the hugels (but before wood was added) this proved to be true–the water literally just laid in the heavy clay, forming pools that took days to dry out.  Yes!

 

Others, however, may find it more beneficial to go up rather than down–the key is to get the wood in it and get some layers of compost and such on top.  Your own conditions beyond that determine a lot of how you want to create your beds.  Here’s how I created mine!

 

Choices for Garden Design

In permaculture, one of the principles is “stacking functions.”  The idea behind this is that you should try to get as many different functions out of a single space as you can.  For example,  the greenhouse offers not only a great growing space for fall and spring crops, it offers shelter from frost for seedlings, and it offers a wonderful place to hang out when its 35 out and you want some sun.  Its multiple purposes, then, contribute to the overall goal of the greenhouse.  In the case of desginging a garden itself, this is also critical. The title of this blog is, after all, the “druid’s garden”–implying not only a garden but a sacred space.

 

The Lawn and Potential Space

The Lawn and Potential Space

And so, I think it is really important to consider the role of the sacredness and design in a garden space.  It’s not just a space to grow things in, to serve the pollenators and create ecosystems….but also a place of sacredness, where the act of gardening is sacred work and considered sacred practice. As is the act of being in the garden for non-gardening purposes, such as meditation and ritual.  To me, making garden spaces that can “stack functions” in this way is an important part not only of gardening, but of living a sacred life more generally and building connection and communion with nature.

 

So for this garden, I had a limited 2/3 circle space after putting in the greenhouse.  I toyed around with a large number of designs before settling on a tree of life theme.  As the garden developed, I realized I didn’t just want a set of “branches” but rather a space to do walking meditation like a labrynth, so the tree transformed more into a moth/butterfly design.

 

Building a Hugelkultur Walking Meditation Garden

Now that we’ve talked through both the mundane and sacred aspects of this particular garden design, let’s take a look at how to build one of these gardens!

 

Step 1: Observe, Interact, and Create a Design

I already had a good sense of the sunniest part of the land that was near the house and easy to access; this, was where the old owners had once had a pool.  It was here that I decided to place both the greenhouse and the walking meditation herb garden.  I observed this space in rain and sun, and also measured it out, thought about how I wanted to move among the garden, how big the beds should be, and so on.  To do this most effectively, you can get some garden stakes or sticks and then string–actually map out the location of your beds, see how it will be as you walk it, etc.  If you don’t have this, some old flour also works, just pour the flour down where you want the beds to be in lines, so that you are essentially “drawing” with flour.

Once I had a plan and was ready to proceed, I called out some friends to help get me started.

 

Step 2: Dig Down

I was blessed with some serious help from friends one weekend just after I moved in to help dig out the hugels.  First we had to remove a burn pit the previous owners left.  Then, we dug them down about a foot and a half–as far as we could go. The clay will be used for a cob wall project(more on that later in the year) that will go in the back of the greenhouse. This doesn’t look like much, but it was literally about 5 hours of work by six people!  Clay is heavy and doesn’t play nice.

Clay garden beds dug down

Clay garden beds dug down

 

 

Step 3: Add Wood

The next step is to add wood to your hugel bed. A lot of it.  As much as you can fit in it.  Here you can see me completing one half of one of the hugels. I used a lot of medium sized logs, some sticks, and also large huge logs along the bottom (not all of which you can see in the photo). The bigger logs will take much longer to break down, but that’s ok!

 

Most wood is fine to use with hugels, but you want to avoid a few kinds.  First, don’t use any woods that have chemicals that prevent the growing of other plants (black locust, walnut and alanthus come to mind). You also want to avoid rot resistant woods (cedar, black locust) as the point is to get it rotting down quickly. My beds primarily consisted of maple, cherry, and oak, as that was what was available.

Adding wood

Adding wood

Step 4: Add Additional Soil-Building Materials

The next stage is to cover the wood with anything else you can–any non-weedy garden waste, leaves, fresh or finished compost, manure, and so on. I threw some old pumpkins that were rotting in there, coffee grounds, a good pile of leaves, mulched grass, horse manure, and more.

 

In traditional hugel building, you would replace the topsoil upside down on top of the logs and keep adding more materials.  The issue I have with that is that I have 100% clay, and I don’t want to have any additional clay in my beds.  So I instead removed it for another project.

Adding leaves and materials

Adding leaves and materials

Step 5: Add Borders (optional)

A lot of people make hugel mounds and don’t add borders, but I find that the borders are really helpful to get them higher, especially with the design I was using (which consisted of fairly small beds.  Also, the borders give a clear demarkation line bewteen what your path is and what a bed is–and for good garden design, this is critical.  Paths determine garden space, after all.

 

After seeing my two friends who made a cool hugel garden with uprightlogs as borders, I thought I could do something similar.  In fact, this does not work:

I put the logs upright and then sunk them in the clay.  But…frost heaving in the winter knocked them all down.  I couldn’t dig down far enough to get them firmly in the soil without some kind of auger…. So I scrapped this idea and went to shorter beds with a rock linked edge.

This looks cool, but won't survive the winter!

This looks cool, but won’t survive the winter!

Since there is copious amounts of stone on the property (I just have to go digging and searching for it) and so I instead spent a lot of time hunting for stone on the property and moving stone for these beds.  It is empowering work!

Stone is quite heavy and moving it is a very good workout!

Moving stone is a very good workout!

 

Leaves and Stone

Leaves and Stone – I lined the beds with stone before adding the final layer. I packed the stone in with clay.

 

Step 6: Top with Finished Compost

The final step for the bed creation to top the bed with finished compost–I added about 5-6″ of compost over everything and then let it rain and settle, then added more.  This gives the plants you plant some room for growing. The beds, being so young, are otherwise difficult for the plants to take root.  Even so, the first year of the hugels as things are just starting to rot down can be not as abundant for plants.  You also want to suppliment with nitrogen–as carbon starts to break down (which is what most of your woody material is) it does suck the nitrogen out of the soil.  The most readily available form of nitrogen is, of course, liquid gold!

Adding finished compost to the bed

Adding finished compost to the bed

Step 7: Establish Paths

Becuase I wanted this to be a walking meditation garden, I needed to also think about the paths between the beds and creating them with something that would last.  I have done a lot of paths in the past at my old homestead with cardboard and wood chips; they are excellent choices, especially for a vegetable garden. Eventually, the wood chips and cardboard breaks down, and you end up with great soil you can move into your beds, then add another layer in.  However, these kinds of paths require regular yearly or at least every-other year maintenance and the paths quickly get lost.

 

But for this garden, which was more permanent and meant to also be a sacred space, I chose to use landscape fabric (which has a 20-25 year life and is breathable) and pea gravel from a local supplier. You could do a lot of things here for paths: brick work, stone work, other kinds of gravel, cardboard and wood chips, etc.  The key is to create something that you like and that fits the vibe of the garden.

 

So I laid the landscape fabric down and used steel pins to pin it in place. This fabric allows water to permeate but will not allow grass or other plants to grow.

 

Laying out the landscape fabric

Laying out the landscape fabric

Finally, I topped this with a 2-3″ layer of pea gravel (locally sourced) for walking paths.

Pea gravel going in

Pea gravel going in

 

Step 7: Plant!

The hugels can have both annual and perennial plants, trees, shrubs, etc.  I opted for this garden as a walking meditation garden filled with healing plants and some food plants.  There are three inlets and you can walk a figure eight or a loop in the garden and commune with the perennial plants.  The garden is planted with a variety of perennials and a few annuals: calendula, yarrow, horseradish, basil, thyme, new england aster, wood betony, garlic, chives, tomatoes, chamomile, rue, echninacea, St. John’s wort, and much more!

Butterfly-Shaped Meditation Garden Complete

Butterfly-Shaped Meditation Garden Complete

Another view of the garden

Another view of the garden

It is amazing to see how far this beautiful garden has come from the green, consumptive lawn.  It will now produce food, medicine, habitat, nectar, beauty, and a wonderful space for ritual and meditation work. This is just one variation–of countless others–to combine solid permaculture design techniques with sacred gardening.

Advertisements
 

2018 Mount Haemus Award Article – Channeling the Awen Within: An Exploration of Learning the Bardic Arts in the Modern Druid Tradition June 8, 2018

I am excited to annouce that my 2018 Mount Haemus Award article, titled “Channeling the Awen Within: An Exploration of Learning the Bardic Arts in the Druid Tradition” has been released on OBOD’s website (a better formatted PDF is at the bottom of the page; I suggest downloading and reading that). In 2020, I will travel to the UK to deliver a talk tied to the paper itself, as every four years, OBOD offers a Mount Haemus lecture for the four most recent scholars. Every eight years, OBOD publishes a volume, and the next volume will also include this paper. Given this incredible honor–and the fact that the project is now finally finished (whew!)–I wanted to take a bit of time today to talk about the project, what I learned, and how I hope it can help others.

 

What I Learned

Regeneration, card 79 from the 3rd edition of the Tarot of Trees

Regeneration, card 79 from the 3rd edition of the Tarot of Trees

This project was probably the most fun I have had as a learning researcher–I surveyed over 250 druids and conducted in-depth interviews with 15 druids from all around the world. I was able to connect with so many interesting people who adored the bardic arts, or who wanted to start a bardic practice, or who dabbled.  I got to know them, as people, as druids, as practitioners of the bardic arts. The project really took on a life of its own; I was able to delve deeply into the lived experiences of these druids and understand a lot more about how creativity and the bardic arts worked for them, but also how they discovered druidry, went deeper into their druid paths, and more.

 

I would say the most important thing I learned is that it takes a tremendous amount of courage to pick up a bardic art, especially if you haven’t done it before or grown up with it, and this is due to the presence of so much negative cultural baggage surrounding “talent” (which I discuss both in the Mount Haemus paper as well as in my bardic arts series on this blog). But that for those who were able to take that step forward, knowing they wouldn’t be good at it when they started–the rewards were incredible. I didn’t have the space to share the countless stories about just how important the bardic arts were for druids around the world. For some, they described it as their very breath, the thing that gets them up in the morning, the thing that helps them make sense of the world around them. People found deeply rich and meaningful spiritual rewards in their bardic practices–irrespective of how “good” or “talented” they felt they were. In fact, for many dedicated practitioners, it wasn’t about the product at all–it was about the act of creating. In the same way that doing a meditation isn’t about the act of meditation, it is about the spiritual benefits and calm one feels afterwards–the daily living benefits. The bardic arts were the same–it was less about producing something good, and more about simply creating/dancing/singing/knitting/playing music, or whatever else it was.  It didn’t matter what it was, but it was deeply spiritual and beneifical.

 

The second major finding  was the power of community. The Eisteddfodau, in particular, was deeply meaningful for those people who had access to them, even once a year at a major druid gathering.  I had attended these for years and had certainly enjoyed them, but for many they were positively transformational for many and helped the community, and individuals, overcome some of the challenges we face when taking up bardic arts.

 

After doing this research, I now understand how critically important the bardic arts are to the druid tradition.  So important, I would argue, that it should be of prime concern for us as a tradition to work to promote them, to reduce the negative language surrounding talent that disempowers people from taking them up or purusing them, and that we find ways of encouraging people to embrace the bardic arts. To make them as central to our tradition as they are to the individuals who practice them.

 

A final thing I discovered, which was outside of the scope of the paper, so I’ll just share it here, was the incredible and varied ways in which people stumbled upon or came into the druid tradition. Finding druidry was an act, for many, of coming home. Of finding a term to describe oneself, a term that had been lacking. In many cases, it was like they stumbled upon this great treasure, a spiritual path that fit them, and began walking it. The cycle of the year, the cycle of the seasons, the channeling of awen–these were deeply moving aspects for druids. It was amazing to hear so many “coming home” stories of people who were proud to call themselves druids, to learn that druidry was a thing, and to seek their spiritual solice and joy in the living earth.  What a wonderful and delightful tradition we belong to!

 

 

Indian Ghost Pipe - A painting from my ongoing Healing Plant Spirit Oracle project

Indian Ghost Pipe – A painting from my ongoing Healing Plant Spirit Oracle project

Why this topic?

Now that I’ve shared some of the major findings and things that excite me, I also wanted to take a few minutes to share some of what drew me to this topic. This project was born out of a few places. First, and foremost, druidry is quite unique in its celebration of the bardic arts as part of our spiritual practice.  This is foreign to folks, especially those coming out of Abrahamic religions.  I remember one person saying to me, “what, so you can paint and that’s spiritual work?” and I was like yes, I honor nature, and painting her is part of my spiritual work.  So for non-druids, wrapping one’s head around that is difficult.  But once you have wrapped your head around it, it becomes an extremely powerful experience–creativity as spirituality.  In my Mount Haemus piece, I shared stories from my participants about their deep spiritual relationship with their bardic arts.  I, too, had experienced a powerful spiritual practice in my artwork and in my flute playing, and I wanted to discover how more people may be able to have similar experiences.  Part of the impetus for doing this particular project was rooted in that joy that I discovered as I walked the druid path and brought together my love of nature and my love of creating things.  I wanted to know how the bardic arts functioned for others and the journeys that people took.

 

A second motivating factor for why I wanted to do the project was from my mentoring work with the AODA, people who are working on the AODA’s first, second, or third degrees have some choice. They can choose to pursue bardic arts (which are any of the creative or performative arts: music, dance, visual arts, fine crafts, etc); they can choose to pursue the ovate arts, through the study and exploration of nature; or they can choose to pursue the druid arts, which would involve magic, divniation, astrology, mysticism, and more.  When people make their choice, or talk to me about their choice, they often qualify reasons why they didn’t make another choice: “Oh, I’ll never be a good artist.”  Or “Oh, I can’t sing at all.”  It was sad to me, as someone who has dedicated so much of my life to the study of all three branches of druidry, to see people who had already believed they were going to fail before they even began. I knew that this came from a lot of sources, some of which I wrote about in terms of my participants for the Mount Haemus piece and some of which I wrote about on my blog in my “Taking up the path of the bard” series in terms of my own bardic practice.  But I wanted to explore this moe.

 

A third reason was in people’s reactions to my own artwork–after 13 years of dedicated painting and lots of mistakes, I have continued to be extremely frustrated when people attributed all that I had achieved as an artist to “talent.”  It happens literally anytime I posted a photo on social media–people coming in saying, with the best of intentions, meaning to be complimentary, “you are so talented, I could never do that.” And what frustrated me was that it wasn’t talent, its not like I picked up a paintbrush yesterday and created a masterpiece.  Rather, it was a ton of hard work and decication to my craft, expert feedback, study, and challenging myself in new directions. I wrote about this more specifically in my post on the bardic arts surrounding “practice makes perfect.”  That post was motivated entirely from that situation.  I was so pleased to learn in the study that for druids, it was about the process of creating something and the tie to spirituality, rather than the product that was to be something commodified.

 

Finally,  I did the project because I had professional expertise in the area of learning. In my mundane life, I’m a professor and learning researcher, and for over a decade, I have been studying in various forms how people learn to write (particularly in academic contexts) and how they develop as writers over time.  I already understood learning and developmental theories that might support the project,  I had used qualitative and quantiative research methods for years (and taught others how to use them at the doctoral level) and so it was already within my expertise as a scholar to work on a project in that regard.  And I thought there might be something interesting that my particular expertise could contribute to the broader druid tradition.  And certainly, I think there was!

Spirit of Blackberry/Bramble, 2016Spirit of Blackberry/Bramble, 2016

Spirit of Blackberry/Bramble, 2016

 

So this was a very exciting and fulfilling project for me, both as a druid, and as a scholar.  In truth, I am so proud of our community: proud of the tradition we continue to develop, proud of how we’ve overcome challenges to become bards, and so delighted to have gotten to know so many more druids in the course of this project.

 

Well, what are you still doing here?  Go over to the OBOD site and read the piece if you are interested!

 

PS: Next week I will return to my regularly scheduled blogging–thanks for your patience as I put in some gardens and did some travel!

 

An American Ley Line Network: A Ritual of Creation May 7, 2018

This past weekend, we had a delightful time at the 2nd OBOD Mid Atlantic Gathering of US(or MAGUS). It was a wonderful weekend full of positive energy, community, and celebration of the land. I was involved heavily in the ritual planning and work this year and was the gathering’s keynote speaker, and we once again did a Galdr ritual (a chanting ritual) using Ogham (sacred trees). This year’s theme was “Sacred Time, Sacred Space” and as part of this work, we decided to re-enchant the land by establishing a new ley line network. We are co-creating a new ley line network across the land.

 

Motherstone at Four Quarters Interfaith Sanctuary

Motherstone at Four Quarters Interfaith Sanctuary

The overall goal of this ritual was to re-enchanting our landscape, connecting sacred spaces and creating sacred spaces across the landscape, and connecting our broader druid community. The work involves empowering, connecting, and eventually, dispersing a set of stones to the broader landscape. I wanted to share parts of our ritual and work here as part of my “Sacred Landscapes” series. I say “share parts” because you can certainly talk the magic out of something, and I think that this is key for this particular ritual moreso than some others we have done in the past.  However, I will share enough that others interested in this work have a blueprint for building their own ritual and the foundation of their own energetic work.

 

Overview of the Work:

The most simple way of creating a sacred ley line/energetic network is to think about linking one or more places together.  These could be any number of things:

 

  • Sacred points you create along a landscape on a piece of property, say, between a sacred grove, spring, and shrine at  tree
  • Sacred points you create along a larger landscape: say, your sacred spot in a nearby forest and a nearby meditation spot you use regularly
  • Sacred points between two outdoor stone circles (shared between friends)
  • Sacred points connected between many groves and individuals (what we did at MAGUS) with a central “hub” (the Stone Circle at Four Quarters).

 

Even connecting two or more points is a good start to think about how the energies might flow between the two sites, enriching them and exploring the magic and energy that can flow between that connection. And this can be really simple: a standing stone you set up on a hill to bring down the solar current, connected to a sacred grove deep in the woods. Many ley lines of ancient times were only a few miles in length–in today’s age, without whole cultures behind us, doing smaller things is totally appropriate.

 

So if you’d like to try this out, let’s first go through two kinds of background information and then onto some specific things you might do.

 

Background: Ley Lines and the Telluric Currents

In order to prepare for setting up even a small ley line network, we need some background information.  I’ve shared this in my blog before at various points, but here is an overall summary:

 

Sacred Mandala as part of our MAGUS 2018 Ritual

Sacred Mandala as part of our MAGUS 2018 Ritual

Ley Lines and the Re-Enchantment of the World: As I’ve discussed in previous posts in this series, re-enchanting the land is, I believe, part of what we can do as druids, particularly druids in North America. The basic premise is this: at one time, humans across the globe recognized the sacredness and enchantment present in the land and worked, in collaboration with nature, to bring that sacredness into manifestation through various earth works, stones, and old straight tracks (ley lines). They did this both physically on the landscape throughout the world and energetically using various magical and ritual techniques. This was not done by a single group of human ancestors, but by many of them over a period of millenia. The specific ley lines, rituals, and beliefs obviously took on their own local flavor, but several key aspects were consistent across time and culture:

 

  • The sanctity of “straight lines” as a sacred feature on the landscape
  • The use of various kinds of sacred features and alignments across the landscape (sacred sites, stone circles, earthworks, connected by paths, marker stones, etc)
  • Usually, some kind of “central point” from which energy radiated outward
  • The relationship between energy flows/land healing/blessing and  physical markers on the landscape
  • The use of nature-based augury for conditions to set the lines and ensure right placement (birds, weather patterns, astrology)
  • The ability of people, over time and space, to shape these energy flows and enhance the magic of the land.

 

If we take these six premises, we have a roadmap that our ancient ancestors offer us for the kind of re-enchantment of the world and creating sacred landscapes for here and now.  There is so much we could do with this.

 

Telluric and Solar Currents: A third piece of our Galdr ritual this year is the interplay and work between the Telluric and Solar currents. I described these in much more detail in an earlier blog post, but will briefly talk about what they are and how we are working them there. Most peoples, save modern Western Civilization, have some concept of “energy” and how it flows across the land. The model I’m describing here is based in conceptualizations from the Druid Revival tradition, but you’ll find that other traditions offer similar or complimentary understandings. In this view, we have two main sources of energy: the solar and the telluric, and one that is created through a synthesis and harmonious combination of these (the lunar).

 

  • The Solar Current: Is the energy of the sun and the celestial heavens. The solar current comes down to the earth, and, as the ancient lore suggests, can be channeled and brought to/in/across the earth in various ways: through a properly set standing stone (see John Michael Greer’s Druid Magic Handbook), through a properly aligned temple or church (see John Michael Greer’s Secret of the Temple), or through a properly aligned ley network (see Pennick and Devereaux’s Lines On the Landscape, final chapter.). The solar current brings life, energy, vitalization, and power.
  • The Telluric Current: Is the deep energy of the earth, rising up from the earth’s core. The Telluric Current comes up from the earth, and, as the ancient lore suggests, can be purified and enhanced with the Solar current. The earth’s energies are disrupted now, particularly with so many destructive activities taking place below the earth’s surface, fracking being the absolute worst of these.

 

Most of the time in various cultures and in various ways, these energies were shaped and enhanced through human activity to bring healing, vitality, and abundance to the land. And that, too, is a primary goal with our Galdr ritual and Ley Line Network here we are creating through the MAGUS gathering.

 

Background, Part II: Raising Energy through Sacred Chanting and Tree Energy

There are countless ways you might raise energy for the purposes of creating even a small ley line or alignment on the landscape. Here are two kinds of energies that we’ve been working with at MAGUS for the last two years that have worked particularly well for this purpose:

 

Galdr / Sacred Chanting:. We again used the idea of “Galdr” (which is a Norse word for “chant” or “incantation”) using our voices, chanting in unison to raise energy to enact a specific purpose. For us as druids, chanting Ogham (sacred trees) is more appropriate  than the runes, so that is exactly what we used. I offered many more details on the Galdr and its origins in my first post from the 2017 MAGUS gathering, so I will direct your attention there. The Galdr chanting works well with a group of any size; with 70+ druids at this gathering, we used the Galdr chanting in four separate groups to raise a network of interrelated energies. If you had a smaller group, or individual, you might use a series of chants in succession. The point here is simple: you can use chanting (and we used sacred tree names) to raise up energy and direct it for the purposes of establishing a sacred network of sites, stones, or anything else.

 

Four Sacred Trees and Ogham: Our ritual again uses Ogham (the Celtic tree alphabet, adapted to North American trees) for raising and shaping the energy of the ritual. These trees, using their sacred names, are chanted to raise energy. The two ritual co-creators (myself and Cat at the Druid’s Well) sat for many months with sacred trees to see who would aid in our work.  Since that is part of the “magic” of the ceremony, I’m not going to reveal much more here–but those wanting to do something similar should find four dominant and powerful trees on their own landscape that can aid in this work. One should be a tree that invokes peace between humans and the land, one should have some deep connection to spirit/otherworld to help create the network, one should help support that work, and one should serve as a container/strengthener to help hold the space.

 

Ley Line Chants

For our gathering, Loam Ananda, an incredibly amazing composer, wrote a ley line chant, which I have permission to share here. This is part of how we raised energy and brought everyone together.

 

You can hear the full chant on Soundcloud here. Here is the melody to the chant (for one person or a small group).

Singing up the Ley Lines Chant

Singing up the Ley Lines Chant

If you have more than one person, this is the chant for a larger group, with four harmonious parts. We have our four sacred trees in the bass part, but you can replace that with any other energies you are working to raise energy and connect space. This chant was taught to everyone prior to our main ritual and used both when we placed our stones for blessing/connecting/empowering during the gathering and also when we removed them to take home.

Singing up the Ley Lines

Singing up the Ley Lines – Group Chant

 

Now that we have a framework and some ways of raising energy–one possible framework among countless others–we can look at two ways we can directly do some of this work. One would be in a larger group setting and one would be something individuals could do.

 

A Simple Approach: Connecting Sites and Energies

Individuals can certainly do this work of establishing ley lines and sacred landscape features on their own, thinking about the connection between two or more sacred sites.  The layers of complexity come in depending on how far you want to go, how many sites you want to build/connect, and the number of people you might get involved.

 

If you want to create a sacred alignment individually, you might start with these aspects:

  • Listening to the spirits. Follow your intuition and communicate with the spirits of the land about the work you’d like to do.  Get a sense of what, where, and how you might to about doing this work. This may be as simple as a gut intuition or signs from nature (remember that the Roman Augurs often looked to weather patterns, birds, and clouds to determine “right alignment”).
  • Once a site has been selected, spend time attending to the energies of the land. Before a sacred ley line can be created, you want to make sure the spirits of the land are in line with this purpose and that any land healing and energetic work that needs to be done in advance is done.
  • Using stones or other features to connect two points. Take a stone from one place and set it ceremoniously in another place, raising energy while doing so and envisioning the two points linked. (See above for how you might do this)–we used sacred trees and chanting, but you can use the four elements  blessings or any other magic you regularly practice.
  • Regularly attending to the new line. Ley lines are both physical and energetic, and so it is useful to think about how these lines might be attended to regularly with seasonal celebration and ritual. They grow with power as we, as individuals and groups, attend to them over a period of time.

 

Carving stones with ogham at our stonecarving workshop at MAGUS

Carving stones with ogham at our stonecarving workshop at MAGUS

A More Complex Approach: An American Ley Line Network – Celtic Galdr Ritual at MAGUS 2018

What we did for MAGUS this year was in the spirit of what I discussed above, but a bit “bigger” since we had six ritualists as planners as well as numberous interconnected workshops and ceremonies. But the principle is the same. I’ll walk you through some of the basics of what we did.

 

Part 1: Stone Selection and Attunement

When people came to the gathering, the ritual began almost immediately.  In an opening workshop, people a These are the activities that we did to move attendees into part I.

  • Finding a Stone, Making it Your Own: Upon coming to the gathering, each participant was asked to find a stone–a stone that they would work, as an individual and as a group, to empower and eventually take home and ceremonially place in a sacred manner somewhere on their landscape. This stone becomes one of many “nodes” of our sacred network.  In our case, since we were building something bigger, we thought it was important that the stones all come from the same place (Four Quarters Interfaith Sanctuary) as they will already be connected and our work would simply be to connect them further.
  • Attuning to Stones: At the gathering, participants did a variety of things to attune to their stones. We had a wonderful stone carving workshop led by Forest Green, and druid attendees were able to carve ogham into their stone. The druids were also able to spend time in the larger stone circle at Four Quarters and attune to the energy there. Druids learned about chanting through a great workshop from Tom Dannsarach and Loam Ananda. Druids learned about sacred mapping and sacred place names from Cat Hughes. Four quarters forms the central “node” in our network and so, it was critical that our stones–and participants–were aligned with this sacred space.
  • Attuning to the Four Sacred Trees: As part of our pre-ritual workshop, each attendee was able to draw an ogham to place them in their group and then spent some time, attuning to the sacred energy of the tree they were working. Each group also had an opportunity to learn more about their tree and the mythology, magic, and specific energy that tree was bringing to our ritual. Each group did this differently, as each group’s role was unique in the ritual–some sat with the tree in question, others journeyed inward to meet the sacred tree and receive a message, learning how to hold sacred space, and so on.
    •  We spent months selecting the trees and each of the “ritual leaders” spent more months researching their trees and being prepared to lead their group in raising the right energy for the ritual.
Ogham staves, attunement materials, and scrolls for our ritual

Ogham staves, attunement materials, and scrolls for our ritual

In sum, we worked to attune participants to their own stones and sacred trees, in order that we might begin to connect them and weave in the ancestral magic of the ley line.

 

Part II: The Galdr Ritual to Connect and Empower the Stones

Space Preparation: Sacred Fires and Sacred Circles

As part of the preparation for the ritual, eight fire tenders built and consecrated sacred fires (a central fire around whih we placed our stones) and four quarter fires. Further, a group of druids also created a cornmeal sacred circle using ogham prior to the ritual; this allowed us to again, place a physical manifestation on the landscape of the energy we were invoking.  The sacred circle had a number of conentric circles and lines featured both ogham as well as material from our sacred trees.

 

The Main Galdr Ritual

The Galdr ritual itself did not have a specific “script” of words, although we certainly had a script of actions and flow, unique to this gathering and space. We begain by honoring the trees, the stones, and the fire. Then, we did a similar thing to last year’s Galdr at MAGUS, where we had participants in four groups chanting, moving, and circling.  In this case, participants were circling a sacred fire and the stones that we were blessing. After raising this energy, we left the stones in that sacred space till the end of the gathering where once again chanting, each participant was able to take his or her stone and recieve instructions for how to place his or her stone.

 

Part III: Creating the Network: Setting Stones in Sacred Homes

Once the stones were empowered, at the end of the gathering, each participant came and gathered up their stone. Each particiapnt was also given a scroll with instructions on what to do next. Each participant was asked to find a sacred place for their stone of their choosing, to establish a sacred space (using OBOD’s grove opening or any other method of their choosing), to set their stone and chant all four sacred trees, and then to envision a line traveling from their stone back to the stone circle at Four quarters. As they envisioned this, they would once again use our “singing up the ley lines” chant.  We also asked participants to “map out” where their stones went on a Google Map, so we can literally see the lines being created after the gathering.

 

Final Thoughts

There’s a lot of information here to get you thinking. The thing that I like about this is that we are responding in a positive way, building anew, something that is ours, unique, magical and choosing to see the land as the enchanted, sacred place that it is.  I hope that other individuals and groups will find the above information inspiring and I encourage you to experment and see what you develop.

 

This idea and ritual is the creation of many minds and hearts! Contributors to this ritual include Cat McDonald (blog: A Druid’s Well); Loam Ananda (blog: Loamology.com); John and Elmdea Adams; Brom Hanks; David North and Nicole South; and Dana O’Driscoll here at the Druid’s Garden.

 

Diary of a Land Healer: January January 28, 2018

It is late January. We had a very bout of cold weather these last few weeks, as I’m writing this, the weather broke and I’m out in the land for a longer stay since since the sub-zero temperatures hit. When I came to my new home and new land in the fall, there was so much to do, just moving in and getting ready for winter, stacking wood, unpacking, painting, fixing things, building a greenhouse, and settling in that I didn’t have the time I wanted to spend with the land. But winter is good for such quiet communion, and so, I’ve been seeing what there is to discover.

A snow spiral, one of many I walk while the snows fall!

A snow spiral/labyrinth, one of many I walk during the winter months.

As I’ve mentioned previously on this blog, in purchasing this land, I knew that part of my work here would be in documenting the regrowth of this land after the previous owners had about 3 acres of it it selectively/sustainable timbered. Regrowth and regeneration is an incredible thing to bear witness to, and I excited to experience and document it up close. And so, this year, I’m going to write one post a month in a series I’m calling “diary of a land healer.” The goal of this series  is to document observations, interactions, and spiritual lessons from watching this beautiful ecosystem heal and regenerate–and the possibilities we have, as humans, to intervene in that process. Because land healing is a process, and because the inner work that facilitates healing is also in process, the thoughts that I present in these posts will also likely be in process.

 

As person whose spiritual work centers on trees and land healing, I’m more often than not paying attention to what is wrong: the fallen trees, the timbering that was done, polluted streams, gas fracking wells, and so forth. As someone with a deep spiritual relationship and love of trees, seeing any of them cut down is horrible. And yet, why this land chose me was because I was to bear witness, and help to regenerate, this forest ecocystem. And today, the land wants to offer me a lesson on nature’s regenerative processes.

Shifting perspective; tree reflections on a thawing pond

Shifting perspective; tree reflections on a thawing pond.

And so, as I walk, my eyes naturally first gravitate to the stumps or some of the downed brush that the loggers left behind. But this land is not asking me to pay attention to the damage. It is asking me to pay attention to what is happening in terms of regrowth. That same giant oak stump, beautiful, powerful, grows mushrooms that weren’t there in the fall, but are here in January are bursting forth, even for a few fleeting warm days. Mushrooms are opportunists; at even the smallest amount of moisture, temperature change, they take advantage.  These mushrooms have done just that and are magnificently emerging–in the cold of winter–from this huge stump.  That’s the magic of the microcosm: the work of the cycle of nutrients, of life and death, of decay and rebirth.  Not only in nature does this happen, but also in our own bodies: many mushrooms, including turkey tail, growing here on this land, are used quite effectively for fighting cancer and free radicals in the human body.

 

Mushrooms!

Mushrooms!

 

I reach down to touch a mushroom and feel my hand go moist and slimy–even the slugs are out on this fine January day. We think the world is so cold, so frozen, so devoid of life after weeks of fridigly cold temperatures, but a single warm day proves this to be an illusion. Beneath the frozen pond, beneath the ice and snow, life awaits. It is a good lesson that nature teaches me every year–the land is always awake. Even two warm days encourage the emergence of insect life, the sprouting of mushrooms and the movement of buzzing beetles in the pond. When the cold hits again, they simply slow down and wait it out.

 

This same lesson is a useful one in our own lives. I think sometimes we have periods of cold and dark where it seems like we are barely moving. Perhaps, we too, are waiting it out. But beneath that waiting, our roots are reaching deep, the germination of the seed is already begun. Life is ready, at any moment, to spring forth.  And in the most unexpected moments and ways, it does.

More mushrooms!

More mushrooms!

 

When all the snow melted away, the skeletons of the plants from last season are still there, their dried bodies moving against the breeze. I recognize the dried lobelia, goldenrod, and wild lettuce; three potent healing herbs. Lobelia serves as a powerful antispasmodic in small doses (dealing with cramps and spasms) and yet functions as an emetic (that is, makes you puke) in large doses. Goldenrod serenades the fall sun and waves goodbye as the sun sets upon the light half of the year. Goldenrod is a wonderful anti-inflammatory (internally and externally) and really useful for allergies as an anti-histamine. Wild lettuce has psychoactive properties and can be used for pain relief. As I look at the skeletons of these plants, I reach down to the dried lobelia.  As I touch her, hundreds of tiny seeds spring forth, black specks upon the melting snow.  Her children, soon, will arise in the spring.

Grasses by the flooded creek

Grasses by the flooded creek.

 

As I walk, I check on the trees that I planted in the fall on Black Friday (what I call “buy nothing, do something” day). So many of the stakes of the tree tubes have gotten heaved up from the ice and cold, and I push them back into the earth. I look forward to seeing how many of the little seedlings take root and flourish here, their presence forever changing the make up of this land. Their planting is my first move to help this forest return to a pre-colonial form, an abundant food forest: chestnuts, paw paws, hickories, and oaks that will one day produce a tremendous amount of abundance. It was the logging that cleared the way for me to replant. In permaculture design terms, the problem was the solution. In fact, everywhere I look, my permaculture design training kicks in. I have many things I want to do, so many ideas for this land.  But when my head starts racing, I am told simply to “wait”. I know that whatever I don’t get to do in my time here, nature will do herself, in her own time and in her own way.

 

As I continue my walk, I come to a maple tree.  The split in her trunk is quite large, yet she grows strong. An imperfection has made her perfect, in the sense that she is still alive and growing because she was not a good candidate for logging.

Imperfection saved this tree!

Imperfection saved this tree.

It is the same with the Guardian Oak in the Eastern part of the property overlooking the creek; a giant burl on the tree allowed this tree to survive.  The burl, an imperfection, allowed this massive and ancient oak the ability to thrive. There are deep lessons here. If we are too perfect, if we strive to be too straight and tall and narrow, the loggers may come for us. Better to be weird, different, quirky, and certainly not commercially valuable–that is how we survive, and thrive, in these difficult times.  It reminds me of the Wendell Berry poem “Mad Farmer Liberation Front,” where he writes “Your mind will be punched in a card / and shut away in a little drawer. / When they want you to buy something / they will call you. When they want you / to die for profit they will let you know. / So, friends, every day do something/ that won’t compute….Be like the fox / who makes more tracks than necessary, / some in the wrong direction.”  Wiser words were never spoken, and perhaps, the oak and the maple have their own last laugh, for they are still growing strong, quirky as ever.

A mighty fine burl indeed!

A mighty fine burl indeed!

Another interpretation: the burl, which many would see as an imperfection, something wrong or diseased, is also the greatest strength for this oak.  It asks us: how might we transform our sorrow/pain/suffering into a strength? How might our inperfections be our greatest gifts? The lesson of transformation whispers through the oak’s dried and still present leaves as they crackle in the January air.

 

I continue to look around, seeing the powerful life and strength here. This land, despite having been logged four times 40 years, is not a victim. The mushrooms growing in sub-zero temperatures laugh at the idea that they are anyone’s victim. The overflowing stream, Penn Run, that flows at the edge of my land babbles in joy at the ability to wash away the old and bring in the new. There is no pain here, only life. There is nothing here that should’t be just as it is.  Being here is an honor and a gift.

Acorn in the brush!

Acorn in the brush!

 

PS: I have two annoucements for this week:

 

I want to thank everyone for their patience while I took a blogging hiatus for most of January.  I spent the month working on my article studying the bardic arts for the OBOD’s 2018 Mt. Haemus Award.  I’ll be sharing more about that piece in next week’s blog post!

 

Also, if you are looking for a good druid gathering, consider joining me at MAGUS (the OBOD’s MidAtlantic US Gathering).  It is open to members, guests, and friends of the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids (OBOD) as well as those with an interest in druidry. I will be the keynote speaker for MAGUS this year and will be doing a workshop and leading the main ritual (another form of the Galdr we did last year). MAGUS takes place at the beautiful Four Quarters Interfaith Sanctuary, an amazing place where we raise standing stones. Registration is now open for the event. Find out more information here.

 

 

Stones Rising: A Reflection on Raising a Standing Stone September 10, 2017

We gather to the outstretched rope lines, ready to move the 22 foot long stone weighing thousands of pounds by hand. Our goal is about a half a mile away, through hilly terrain. This stone destined for the a place in the ever expanding Stone Circle at Four Quarters Interfaith Sanctuary. All have gathered for one purpose: to move this massive stone using our hands and hearts, and to give it a home in the honored northern quarter of the circle.

Part of the stone circle that has been raised in previous years

Part of the stone circle that has been raised in previous years

So much preparation has gone into this moment; building this sacred space from the ground up, the years and years of work. Countless hours of developing expertise on how to move stones.  More recent preparations, from the “stone peoples intensive” volunteers arriving a week early to prepare the site, building and securing the moving equipment, developing the rituals, preparing the grounds.  And there are the stone movers– the huge group of people who have gathered from far and wide. The evening before, we held ritual around the flame stone and called in our ancestors to bless our sacred work.  The next day, we volunteered on one or more of the many paths of service necessary to help the event take shape.  Anticipation built, especially for those of us who had never done the work before.

Calling in our Ancestors

Calling in our Ancestors

And so, here we stood, on the day of the “long pull.” Our hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits ready for the work ahead. Everyone is quiet on the lines except those who are directing the activity. We stood in silent communion with the stone.  The order is given–pull slow and steady.  The stone people work closely with the stone, shouting orders, watching to see how it moves along the path, putting logs underneath so that it can roll along smoothly. The logs are particularly important for rises in elevation and flat areas (as the road we pull the stone down is full of many dips, hills, and turns). The leaders call out commands–we stop, we move left with our ropes, we pull.  We stop, shift again to the right, and pull.  We gather together to shorten the ropes and pull.  We move apart on the longer stretches and pull.  We breathe.  We pull.

A view from the back of the rope lines

A view from the back of the rope lines, the signal to stop.

We are many tribes within tribes gathered here to pull this stone.  And yet, on these ropes, there are no differences among us. Regardless of race, class, vocation, identity, skill, physical appearance, gender, sexuality, political orientation, or ability, we gather as a single tribe with our one purpose–to pull. We have three lines coming from the stone–I was in the middle line, with my small community of druids surrounding me. These druids are dear friends, people with whom I have long shared sacred space, with whom I’ve conducted the work of initiation, with whom I’ve spent many an evening at the bardic fire, sharing mead, stories, and songs. If I fall, I know they will catch me.  But I realize in that moment, looking to the broader tribe of people around me…so would any other person here today.  Whatever differences or divisions there were before this stone pull, they fade away, and with that, our small druid tribe flows seamlessly into the greater tribe, all working as one.

 

Doing the work of raising this stone requires an incredible amount of trust. It requires that we put aside our differences, our disagreements, our pain, whatever we carry with us, and simply trust the other people who are there beside us. You can’t have barriers between you for this work, because you can’t be anywhere but present in the moment. Anything else has no place. I can understand now, in ways that were unfathomable to me before, why the ancients built big things. They built things to build community. They built things to build bonds of friendship and trust that transcend any other boundaries. They built things to bring people together. You couldn’t hold a grudge against your friend or neighbor because the next day, that person you are angry at might be holding the wooden lever that is keeping 2000 pounds of stone from crushing down on you. The ancient monuments that still stand are symbols of that community and trust.

Moving the stone using rollers up a rise

Moving the stone using rollers up a rise

In fact, working in a community to accomplish so many tasks used to be a skill that every human had. Communities worked together to accomplish incredible feats, like building stone circles that stand for 10,000 years.  It is no wonder we need our ancestors here to support us–we reach deep within our own blood and reconnect with their wisdom to guide our hands, hearts, and spirits.  We are not a separate people, but one.  Pull, wait, move.  Breathe.  Pull. Pull, Pull!

 

As much as you depend upon your community during the moving of the stone, your community depends upon you. The stone is so heavy; every person is needed. You have to pull your own weight in the most literal way. At one point, we were pulling the stone up a really long hill, and it was really intense. If we stopped, we might not get going again, so we just kept pulling. Our muscles were burning, everyone was sweating, groaning, giving it our all. There’s a temptation at that point to ease up just a little, to not pull quite so hard, to catch your breath. But you don’t. You pull with all of your might because if you don’t, someone else in your community will have to do so, and that might be too much for them as they are already giving their all. This is another form of trust.

 

If there is one thing that can be said it is that anything worth doing takes time. And stones in particular, move slowly. To move a stone quickly would risk serious injury to either us or the stone. The stone forces us to slow down, to be in the moment, to simply be present, and listen, and attend to exactly what is happening right now. I had to be present in each moment to hear what was coming next. For four hours while we moved that stone, I was in an extended movement meditation where my entire existence was focused on listening for those instructions and doing it exactly as asked. We get into a rhythm. The pauses allow us to reflect on the moment, on the beauty of it. I look to my brothers and sisters of the tribe of the standing people, noting the hickories and white pines who send us their blessings as we slowly pass. As we wait, as we pull, as we move left on our rope lines, as we drink the water that other community members provide, we are simply in that moment.

Some of us on the lines--and there I am in blue, pulling on that rope!

Some of us on the lines–and there I am in blue, pulling on that rope!

 

Our bodies grow sore, but the journey has not yet ended.  For some of us, we spend most of our waking hours in our minds, disembodied, our minds focused on screens of information.  Our bodies come to life in the moment where we pull, our bodies are fully, and sometimes painfully present, to let us know that we are still alive.  Our sore muscles remind us that we are here now, and that we are making this living monument that will last for generations.

 

As our sled that the stone rested on broke, as our log rollers broke, as everything seemed to break and we moved the stone up the last rise by sheer determination, we continued to pull. Finally, we reach our destination. The stone is once again celebrated and we come together as a tribe. That evening, the warriors, the veterans among us and others who choose to join, hold vigil over the stone.  We let the stone know that the community is here, this day, and always.  That evening, we released our fears, doubts, pain, and sorrow and came together as a tribe for the great work, the rising of the stone, to begin.

 

Celebrating the end of the long pull

Celebrating the end of the long pull

The next morning, it is time for the stone to rise to its sacred place in the north. We gather in the morning. All night long, while the warriors held vigil, the corn mother tribe baked us bread. They offer it to us to break our fast. It is delicious, slathered with honey butter. This warm gift fills our bellies and hearts. We pull, pull, pull and the stone is in place. We watch as the stone people slowly use leverage to lift it up, inches at a time, building sturdy wooden foundations to hold it. We wait, we watch, we listen. Finally, it is time for the stone to rise.

Slowly raising the stone using levers and wood stands

Slowly raising the stone using levers and wood stands

Two ropes are laid out, and those of us who are at Stones Rising for the first time are given the place of honor at the front of the ropes so we can watch the stone rise into place. The drummers beat their steady rhythm, while the entire stone circle is decked out in beautiful colors; an outdoor sanctuary to the living earth.  We pull on the ropes, hand over hand, but this is easy work, as we are also using some block and tackle (ropes and pulleys).

The stone rising up!

The stone rising up!

Orren Whiddon, whose vision has created Four Quarters, is leading us in raising the stone.  He tells us that reason we are using block and tackle is because we don’t have the experience of working in a community together. We don’t have enough control.  We would get too excited, and we pull to fast, and so, the block and tackle slow us down. When we are 75% of the way, an additional tool is needed, and it takes time for someone to fetch it from the farmhouse. We hold the ropes. We wait. We breathe. It is not hard work with all of us here; we trust that the community will hold. Then, we are pulling again, hand over hand, as the stone raises up. With a final thump, the stone fits into its hole in the circle. We cheer and hug each other. The great work is done. Children are blessed, the community spends time in celebration, and later, feasting.

 

The main ritual that evening welcomes to the stone to the circle, it is powerful and moving and magic. I catch my breath and look around at my tribe, their faces shining in the dim firelight. I think about so many things there, as we stand in the firelight as a tribe honoring the new stone. Modern humans almost never have the opportunity to experience something like this. We have grown so dependent on fossil fuels and machines that do this kind of work that we have forgotten the most important lessons of trust, forgiveness, community, slow time, and craft. As Wendel Berry writes about in the Unsettling of America, the point isn’t to do something quickly.  It is to do it well. This is especially and poignantly true of building sacred spaces. Fossil fueled powered heavy machinery could never, ever compare to what we experienced here as a tribe. We might gain in efficiency in using fossil fuels, but efficiency comes at an extraordinarily high cost. In the case of building a stone circle or other sacred space, it may come at the cost of the heart and soul of a community. Fossil fuels have made life easier, quicker, but certainly not any more full.  Fossil fuels have stripped us of an extremely important gift–the ability to work together. Raising this stone has given us the briefest glimpse into the power of what that once looked like. And I want more.

 

This experience also has a tremendous amount of value to those of us here in the United States practicing nature-based spirituality. As any druid practicing here knows, we are in a bit of a pickle. We are practicing a nature-based spiritual tradition that originated with the Celts–their land isn’t our land. Some, but not all of us, can trace ancestry back to the British Isles in some form or another. That doesn’t really matter much when we don’t live on that soil. The truth is, here in the USA, we live on someone else’s sacred land. That unavoidable fact puts us in a serious bind–the most compassionate, respectful, and meaningful solution is to build our own sacred spaces. I’ve long advocated before the necessity of creating our own sacred spaces (and have offered some suggestions for how to do so), and this experience radically affirms and extends this idea. Building small spaces with a few friends, or very magnificent spaces, like the stone circle at Four Quarters, is part of our own flavor of what it means to be an American earth-centered spiritual person, an American Druid, an American anything else.

The "Flame Stone", the northern most stone of the circle

The “Flame Stone”, the northern most stone of the circle

The truth is, I’ve been attempting to capture in words an experience so sacred, words can never fully describe its power. But for those who do not have such an opportunity to raise a stone, I hope that my attempt to give the experience voice has given you pause for reflection.  To understand the work of the stones, you must do the work of the stones.  To understand a sacred place, at least the kind we are trying to create here in the USA, you have to take part in the creation of it.  Before I raised a stone, I really had no idea what the circle of stones there at Four Quarters meant, what their power was. I couldn’t hear the singing of the stones. But now, I understand that place. I am connected to it.  It is part of me, and I am forever part of it.

 

And, perhaps, I will pull stone with you next year, on Labor Day Weekend, for Stones Rising 2018! (And for those of you attending the OBOD’s East Coast Gathering this upcoming weekend, I hope to see you there!)

 

PS: I am indebted to Patricia Robin Woodruff, who took most of the photos in this blog post.  You can learn more about her and her amazing artwork here.

 

Druid’s Garden Celebration: 300 Posts! July 9, 2017

Filed under: Triumphs — Dana @ 6:33 am
Tags: , , ,

The path through the forest is full of twists and turns, and also unexpected treasures and joys.  Sometimes, its tough to keep going up when the path winds ever upward or the rocks block your way.  But still, the journey continues for each of us.  Part of my own journey and that of you, my readers, is shared here on this blog, and I am so delighted you’ve found me and have been reading!

 

I began the Druid’s Garden Blog in October of 2010, almost seven years ago.  Today’s post marks post 300 and about 6.5 years of weekly blogging!  The blog is subscribed to via email by over 2000 people, followed on WordPress by 1000 people, and on Facebook by over 5000 people–I am truely honored and overwhelmed with graditude that my little corner of the digital world is paid such high respect!  Today, I’d like to share a bit about this blog and some of the themes that have emerged in the last two years and forecast some of where we are heading next.

 

The mountains I call home

The mountains I call home

Some History

I was born and raised in the Laurel Highlands region of Pennsylvania, and lived in a few different states for varying lengths of time (New York, Indiana, and Michigan) before returning back to Western PA two years ago.  I began this blog while I was in Michigan as a way to document my own process of learning and transformation to a more sustainable lifestyle and my explorations of permaculture in druidry.  This blog was my way of showcasing that, more for myself, and for the process of my Druid Adept degree with the AODA (which I completed in 2013).  At the time I started this blog, I was living on a 3 acre plot of land that I wanted to turn into a homestead and learn how to do that using perennial systems.  Two years ago, I sold it and shifted to a rental situation while I worked to figure out next steps.  I’m still very much in the process of doing that work at the moment!

 

The themes of this blog are the relationship between druidry as a nature-based spiritual practice and how that manifests through physical practice using permaculture and broader sustainable living strategies. Into this mix I throw in some other things I’m interested in and that directly connect to this theme, including wild food foraging, wild tending, and herbalism. Since stepping into leadership and becoming AODA’s four archdruids in 2015 (I currently serve as Archdruid of Water), I’ve also taken on a number of topics on druidry itself that I see people in AODA and elsewhere struggling with (my ongoing Bardic Arts series being one such example).  In other words, I focus on nature, relationship, and connection.

 

Land Healing and the Extraction Zone

During my special post for 200 in 2015, I showcased some of my favorite posts from my first five years blogging.  I’m going to do the same today focusing on the last two years of posting.  In fact, I think most of my best writing has occurred during the last two years on this blog for a simple reason: returning to Western Pennsylvania and seeing what had happened while I was gone really hit home, and a lot of that processing and spiritual work has made its way into this blog. As times of struggle and turmoil often offer us rich rewards if we embrace it, most of my best writing came from these events, and that work is ongoing.  I feel like I’ve been brought back to my home region not only to bring some of these tools into this region, but to a larger audience through this blog.

 

For one, I had to face, directly, the reality of what has been happening with fracking upon my landscape.  This meant seeing firsthand disrupted telluric currents, fracking wells, and recognize that I was living in one of the most intensely extracted and polluted areas in North America.  I was living in a place where coal power plants filled the skies with toxins (three around my town alone), where mountains were removed and land stripped, where logging was commonplace, where our streams were polluted from acid mine runoff, and where fracking wells were so abundant it is difficult to go on a hike without running into them.  Of course, the circumstances here are heartbreaking for someone who loves the land (and the idea of solistalgia, which I also talked about in the land healing series, is present and pervasive).  However, it also lead to some of my best insights to date, partcularly on land healing and posts in what we can and can’t do in these circumstances (this last link offers the final post in the series, which links to all of the others).  These posts, and my ongoing work with land healing, is a direct response to the circumstances.  In permaculture design, we say that the problem is the solution.  One of the things this has required me to do is to think deeply and engage a good deal of my own spiritual practice with figuring out the best way to respond.  Here are all of the land healing posts, which I highly recommend if you haven’t yet read them: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, and Part IX. And here’s a Galdr Ritual I co-wrote and led for the healing of the Eastern Helmock Trees–another kind of energetic land healing work.

 

A painting of the "hermit" I did a few years ago

A painting of the “hermit” I did a few years ag

The Problem is the Solution

Right as I was making my transition back to Western PA, I finally finished my Permauclture Design Certificate course, which was one of the most empowering things I have ever done.  I had been praciticing permaculture for a number of years on my homestead, but getting the actual PDC was a way to synthesize all I had been doing and practicing–I loved the way in which we looked at so many problems and though of the opportunities that existed.  Given the challenges that my own region faces with fracking, logging, and pollution, thinking about the solutions inherent in this problem was one of the ways I had of moving forward and not becoming distraught.

 

There are two running themes in this series of posts: one is exploring how we might tend to the wilds and become a force of good.  In this series of posts, I have showcased the work of my father, who has been diligently planting hardwood nut trees and cultivating rare forest medicinals to replant the landscape. I’ve also talked about seed balls, building refugia gardens, and actively working to replant the land.  Part of this also means making friends with existing plants and engaging in weedtending and recognizing their inherent worth.

 

The other running theme in this series is my ongoing discussion of permaculture, especially my work in translating the permaculture principles into a magical/druidic framework through the five elements.  These posts offered empowering ways that druids and those new to permaculture might see and use this as a tool for addressing the predicaments we face.  Tied to this, we can also look at how permaculture principles manifest on the inner planes and how they might be used for spiritual practice. Different design principles offer us specific tools for going deeper into this work of regeneration and both on the inner and outer planes.  A revision of this framework appeared in the AODA’s Trilithon that was released in June 2017 (you can order it here).

 

Self Care and Healing

Becuase of the circumstances of my immediate living, another theme that has emerged on the blog in the last two years focuses inward on self care, healing, and personal growth.  I have focused on these issues in various ways, from examining permaculture’s ethic of self care as a spiritual practice, to considering how we might live our authentic selves both openly and in hidden ways, and also how we can find balance and healing despite these turbulent times.  One other post worth mentioning was looking at how we can cultivate polycultures to address the predicament we, as a species, face.  I have realized, more and more, that self care is the foundation upon which any other healing or land regeneration work is done.

 

Nature Spirituality

Of course, nature spirituality and working with trees as been a long-term focus of mine in this blog, and the sacred trees posts and druid tree workings posts are nice examples of this work.  So far, I have covered a varity of trees local to the mid-Atlantic, North East, and/or Midwest temperate forests including: Ash, Hickory, Eastern Hemlock, Eastern White Cedar, Maple, Hawthorn, Beech, and Walnut.  I’ve also written a number of posts on druid tree workings, some of which fairly recently and some in the more distant past (the post here links above to all of those writings).  These kinds of posts, to me, represent some of the core spiritual practices of my own druidry, and I will continue to share them as I feel led to do so. These are the working tools of reconnecting with the sacred trees and forests (which are so abundant here where I live).   I’ve also been working a lot with rivers, which has come through in several posts, including one on thinking about the relationship of land health and connection.

 

The druid and a sacred garden

The druid and a sacred garden

Sacred Gardening and Sacred Living

Of course, the ongoing work of earth-centered living, through sacred gardening and through ongoing sacred action and sacred living, has been the most longstanding theme on this blog, and I have continued that over the last 100 or so posts. Of particular fun to me was my post on compost toilets (which will include an update fairly soon), descriptions of some new gardening projects (like making paper seed pots and recycled watering systems), and resources for folks living in rental situations.

 

Where is the Druid’s Garden heading next?

All of this land healing work and living here in such a place of extremes has really had me thinking about the core of what druidry is and what it offers the world.  I’m trying to tackle this broader question this year and into the coming year (and will likely be doing so, with many others, for a lifetime!)  But in terms of writing, this work will continue to spiral from my post on connection as the core philosophy in the druid tradition. I’m starting to realize that I have a very distinct “flavor” of druidry based on some of these experiences, and I’d like to get some of that out there in a more accessible format.  So my recent series on the bardic arts represents a move in that direction, and I’ll continue to explore the other core druid practices from this “connection” perspective.

 

I’m also working to continue my research on the sacred trees in the Americas. I have about a dozen or so trees that I’ve done at least some of the resaerch and meditations on, and I’d like to wrap up this series before post 400! :). And of course, there will be a smattering of posts about permaculture, gardening, wild foods, wild medicine, natural building, and more.

 

A lot of people have asked me if I’m planning on writing books.  At this point, after seven years of blogging, I certainly have more than one book in here.  In fact, I’ve finished my first manuscript and am shopping for a publisher and am actively working on a second manuscript at the moment.  I’ll share more once I have something worth sharing! 🙂

 

Thank you so much for joining me on this journey and for being a reader of the Druid’s Garden Blog.  I am truely honored that you spend time here and find my work of value.   If there’s anything you like me to cover, please let me know and I will do my best to cover it as the awen flows :).

Save

Save

Save

 

Embracing the Bucket: A Colorful Compost Toilet for Small Space Living January 1, 2017

The Druid's Garden beautiful composting toilet! :)

My beautiful composting toilet! 🙂

A few months ago, I posted on humanure and liquid gold as ecological resources. Many are once again realizing that our own waste is a precious resource, not something deserving of a flush. As a quick review, humanure refers to human feces that has been composted down (usually over a two-year period). Liquid gold refers to human urine which can be used immediately (diluted to 10%) as a nitrogen-rich fertilizer.  This waste-cycling practice allows us to reconnect our own elimination cycle with the cycles of nature and bring nutrients back into our landscape rather into toxic municipal septic systems.  Working with our own waste is a very powerful practice for rejoining the cycles of nutrients and flows in the living landscape.

 

And so, as a follow-up to that post, I’d like to share the creation of a compost toilet for my small rental house (as part of my own experiments in rental house permaculture practice).  This post will cover overcoming challenges, basic plans for construction, decoration, and use. I also think this is a wonderful post for the civil new year, and the phrase “out with the old, in with the new” very much comes to mind!

 

Overcoming Mental, Collecting, and Composting Challenges

The idea of collecting and composting humanure includes several challenges we have to overcome: mental challenge and the physical challenge of collecting and composting your waste. I’ll explore each of these first before getting to the specific compost toilet construction and design.

 

When I mentioned that I was thinking about building a compost toilet to my family and certain friends, a number of them expressed a great deal skepticism and doubt, refusing to use it even before it was in place. Elimination is a very taboo topic. The idea of handling a bucket of your own waste, and doing anything with it, beyond flushing it “away” is mentally challenging.  For one, we have to overcome years and years of social conditioning about what “appropriate bathroom behavior” is–and that social conditioning suggests that the best thing we can do is to quietly do our business, to flush it, and move about your day.  There’s also the assumption that it will smell bad or be gross to do anything else.

 

Even if we can wrap our intellectual minds around embracing the bucket (as it makes a lot of sense, as I detailed in my earlier post), we still have to emotionally accept it and overcome that conditioning. After visiting various ecovillages, homesteads, and sustainable living centers, I had already had first-hand experience in using composting toilets, and with that experience, I decided they were pretty cool and worth pursuing.  But more than that, I knew that getting a handle on my own waste streams would allow me to deepen my own nature-based spiritual practice and directly work to regenerate the land by returning nutrients rather than discarding them. So the compost toilet was in line not only with my desire to honor and regenerate the land, but in line with my spiritual ethics.  So these things, along with some positive direct experience helped me to overcome some of the mental barriers, especially emotional ones.

 

Yep, that's a bit hard to avoid....

Yep, that’s a bit hard to avoid….

But what about the emotional and intellectual barriers folks coming to my house who have never used one before?  How could I get them to embrace the bucket? The truth is, based on where I was putting it, even if they didn’t use it, they were going to come face to face with it in my bathroom (see photo). Perhaps pooping in a “fun” toilet would make the difference. I decided that I would create the most beautiful, inviting, whimsical and incredible toilet they had ever seen.  I wanted to create something that people would be excited and overjoyed to poop in.  Heck, I wanted to create something that I wanted to be excited and overjoyed to use! In other words, I would create an artful toilet that was inviting and fun to use, not a plain old seat with a bucket!

 

With the mental challenges considered, there is, of course, the physical reality. Most of us hopefully don’t have a problem with the elimination of waste, but rather the collection of waste and the composting of the waste. The collection is, for a renter, the much more simple of the two. Simple compost toilet boxes, which are a wooden box, lid, and bucket with cover material, are really quite elegant to use. In fact, in my bathroom,  I had a tiny bit of room for a simple compost toilet collection bucket (inspired by the “lovable loo” and the Humanure Handbook).

 

My friend's composting facility (compost delivery was in the dark, so sorry about the poor photo)

My friend’s composting facility (compost delivery was in the dark, so sorry about the poor photo)

The composting itself was my final main hurdle. I live in a small house with a tiny yard that is rented; I can’t be composting my own humanure on land I don’t own (especially less than 10 feet from my neighbors). And so, I don’t have the option of storing it outside.  And I certainly don’t want to store it in my scary and often-flooded basement.  I seemed stuck–how to proceed? Then, a friend of mine told me she was building a humanure composting system just outside of town on a small piece of land she is working. She invited me to make contributions, both because more nutrients is a good thing and because she was having difficulty getting her pile up to the desired temperature. This is community building and teamwork at its best. Since her location is only a few miles outside of town and I got that way often to visit the woods or my family, I realized that it was time to embrace the bucket!

 

Constructing the Toilet (Collection)

The compost toilet is simply a box with a collection bucket!

The compost toilet is simply a box with a collection bucket!

My very first attempt at a composting toilet was going to be very simple: a bucket with an attachable lid designed for 5 gallon buckets. The fact that I had a tiny bathroom contributed to this early choice–there wasn’t really anywhere for the compost toilet to go if it were bulky (as the photo above shows). Some time ago, I had ordered a small lid/seat that would fit a five gallon bucket and was excited to try it out. My excitement immediately dwindled upon attaching it to the bucket.  Sitting on it reinforced my dread: it was small, uncomfortable, and not user-friendly.  Nobody would want to poop on that little seat; heck, even I didn’t want to poop using that little seat. So with this plan scrapped, it became obvious that building a more functional composting toilet was in order.

 

It turns out, building a more functional and comfortable basic compost toilet is a really simple thing: it usually has some kind of outer box that holds the bucket in place, offers a lid, and has a regular toilet seat that is reasonable to sit on to use.  Witnessing my concerns about the bucket seat I had purchased, the  friend offered to build the compost toilet.  The following few paragraphs include his instructions and measurements (although note that this toilet was built specifically for my small bathroom, so you might want to change the measurements).

 

Here is a list of the supplies:

  • 1/2 sheet of plywood (if you are painting it, you can get a sheet that is finished nicely on one side and not as nice on the other); if you are staining it and you want the grain all the same you’ll need more than 1/2 a sheet.
  • 3 five-gallon buckets (assuming off-site storage).  Two of these are collection buckets (so you have a spare) and one is for storing your cover material. Sometimes, Asian restaurants may have these available for free as they often purchase soy sauce in 5 gallon buckets.
  • Toilet seat (the one pictured was less than $10; you can also get this used)
  • Two hinges, wood screws, wood glue, clamps, and basic tools (hammer, screwdriver, table saw)

The following is the cut sheet for the compost toilet based on the height of the bucket and the space I had available in the bathroom.  This assumes one standard half-sheet of plywood.

Cut Sheet for Composting Toilet (one half sheet plywood)

Cut Sheet for Composting Toilet (one half sheet plywood)

The box was constructed by having the four sides rest on the floor and adding the bottom of the box inside the four sides. This is to prevent screws from digging into the floor.  The top of the seat, since it has to lift off and bear weight, sits on all four sides.

Box and bucket before painting

Box and bucket before painting

To get the hole for the bucket, my friend simply traced the outside of the bucket onto the lid and cut it open with a jigsaw. He assembled it all and brought it back to my house for cat inspection. The felines approved.

Cat inspection of the box

Cat inspection of the box

Cat inspection of painting process

Cat inspection of painting process

Painting the Toilet

After the basic construction of the toilet was complete, it was time to paint–I knew these artistic skills would come in handy! Part of it was that I wanted it fun, colorful and inviting. The second part of it was that I wanted the toilet to be educational–so when you used it, you understood the nature of what your contributions.  After working on some sketches, I was ready to begin.

Starting sketches and using a plate to trace my outer image

Starting sketches and using a plate to trace my outer image

The toilet seat I decorated was a wooden one the Philosopher purchased at the hardware store for less than $10. It had a seal coating on it that I had to sand off (do this work outside with good ventilation and use a mask). Once I had the toilet seat sanded, I began painting the seat, the box, and the rest!  I wanted messages that were inspirational but not overtly intense, so I wove them into the box throughout, making it fun, whimsical, and inviting.

Painting Process

Painting Process

I used regular acrylic paints to paint the seat. I knew that a good seal was critically important for protection and cleaning, so I used three coats of clear acrylic sealer (which also needs to be done outside). This would allow me to clean the seat and protect my paint.

 

I wanted whimsical designs and messaging, things that allowed people to understand more the cycle of waste and nutrients as well as invite them to try it out.

Finished lid and seat!

Finished lid and seat!

After painting and sealing, we put the toilet together and admired our work. What began as a simple idea in our minds turned into a masterpiece both of us could be proud of!

Waste Not (front of Compost Toilet)

Waste Not (front of Compost Toilet)

Close up of lid and seat!

Close up of lid and seat!

Close-up of nutrient cycle painting on inside lid

Close-up of nutrient cycle painting on inside lid

Top of toilet inviting you inside....

Top of toilet inviting you inside….

 

The toilet was now ready to use–but first, I’m going to cover a few considerations for compost toilets as I generally understand them.

 

Preparing to Use the Toilet: Some Considerations

You’ll need to gather a few materials and make a few considerations for your compost toilet, specifically, how much of your business you are going to be doing in the compost toilet and what your cover material will be.  These are two related considerations: cover materials vary in absorbancy, and that will determine how much urine you can add to your toilet.

 

The first is finding a carbon-based cover material. Currently, I am using sawdust from the a friend’s woodshop (free resource, and he doesn’t use treated wood, but it is very fine and creates dust) as well as partially composted wood chips from my parents’ house (free resource from local tree work).  In the future I’d also like to experiment with shredded fall leaves.

 

Now, absorbency is also important.  From a good friend who was living in a camper and moving around the country, and using her compost toilet full time, I learned the following: sawdust, woodchips, and the like aren’t very absorbent.  If you are going to be doing all of your business in your compost toilet, something more absorbent is necessary.  Peat moss or sphagnum moss was her choice, although she acknowledged that that’s the best she could get on the road consistently, and she didn’t prefer it for environmental reasons but didn’t always have access to anything better.  She said if you only use sawdust, you are likely to end up with a bucket of soup, especially if you aren’t able to dump it very often.  (I’m interested in hearing from other readers if they have experiences using other more sustainable-yet-absorbent possibilities–I’m also going to try shredded newspapers/office paper combined with some other available materials and see what that does).

 

Cover material for the toilet

Cover material for the toilet

I am currently solving this absorbancy problem but collecting urine separately and using it for plants and offerings back to the land (as I described earlier in my first post on the subject).  I have also seen this design: a separate urinal (for liquid gold) and toilet (for humanure) in many of the more elaborate compost toilet setups (like at Sirius Ecolvillage where I did my Permaculture Design Certificate). These two human wastes have very different uses and necessary treatments.

 

Further, if you are changing your bucket out at least once a week, the solid droppings don’t stink once covered up at all–its really quite amazing. However, urine will go to ammonia the longer it sits, exposed to air, if its not properly absorbed.  So I have found that using my compost toilet with the sawdust mainly for solid deposits (allowing for some liquid during making a solid deposit) doesn’t’ lead to any smell and the sawdust works well.

 

Another consideration is what happens to the toilet paper.  From a report from friends, toilet paper takes a lot longer to break down than humanure and you are sometimes left with only bits of TP with otherwise well composted material. Given this, many people don’t include theirs in the bucket.  But to me, this makes more waste, and helps with the absorbancy issue. Also, its possible to get recycled and undyed toilet paper, and that makes even little bit better. Volume here also matters: I am living alone with occasional visitors, and having a family of four would require much more buckets and volume (but also faster turnaround time as the buckets fill up).

 

In the end, a number of factors will impact how you use your compost toilet.  I’m in some ways making it out to be rather complicated, and it really isn’t.  What it ultimately comes down to is this: have some cover material, do your business, cover it up, and go about your day!

 

The edge of the bucket goes right up against the wood to prevent accidents!

The edge of the bucket goes right up against the wood to prevent accidents!

Using the Compost Toilet

Using the toilet is really easy.  You’ll need to do the following:

  1. Start with a layer of cover material on the very bottom of the bucket. I add about 1″ of sawdust to mine when starting a new bucket.
  2. Do your business. 
  3. Add a layer of cover material, covering your deposit. Fully covering the deposit ensures that you can reduce odor. But not all the TP needs covered; people often use way too much cover material, so keep this in mind.
  4. When the bucket is full, transport to the compost facility (backyard, friend’s land, wherever). Make your deposit at the compost pile (see below) and then clean your bucket.
  5. Repeat the above steps!

Composting and Storage

Here are some good instructions for how to build a composting facility for your humanure (this comes from the Humanure Handbook folks, which I would highly recommend for more details and information).

 

For my friend’s facility, the process is really simple. She built two potential piles that are both enclosed (to avoid having vermin or her pet goats in the pile). One pile is “active” meaning we are adding to it, and one pile is “composting” meaning that we are waiting while it composts down. She is using a piece of wire square of fencing (rigid) to keep critters out that covers the pile, then a thick one foot layer of hay to help keep the pile insulated during the cold winter months.  She also is using a thermometer to check the internal temperature of the pile.

 

To add deposits, we simply remove the wire square of fencing and then remove hay/insulating material from the pile, add the bucket to the pile, cover the pile back up with hay. Then we rinse the bucket with Castile soap (Dr. Bronner’s works well) and use a small toilet brush–adding all the liquid back into the pile. In the summer months, she has a water barrel there for that purpose, but in the winter months, we bring a gallon of warm water with us from home to rinse.  Then, the bucket simply goes back to your compost toilet to collect another 5 gallons of resources!  The Humanure will be very occasionally turned, and then added to perennial trees, bushes, and shrubs after composting down for two years.

 

I hope this post was inspirational and informative, and I believe it is a great way to start this new civil year. I know that 2016 was a hard year for many people, but I think its important to focus on what we are able to do, here and now, and find our way forward in harmony with the land. The problems we face ask us to creatively engage with our world, to embrace it with consideration and care, and I know that all of us, in our own ways, will continue to do that into the future.