The Druid's Garden

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

A Bardic Sigil Technique December 8, 2019

Sigil creation in progress!

I open up a sacred grove with intention.  After opening the grove, I sit for a few moments, breathing deeply and centering myself.  When ready, I pick up the chalk pastel and I allow the chalk pastel to move across the page, closing my eyes at points, emphasizing lines at points, and letting me be in the flow of the moment.  I keep refining the design, moving pieces of it to new areas of the paper.  I don’t focus too much, paying attention instead to my overall intention: a specific land healing sigil, a sigil that will link different sacred sites I’m working on and work with ley line energy on the landscape. After a number of versions, the sigil seems complete, and I work to transfer it to a wooden round–the process of transfer allowing it to undergo yet another, final, revision.  In today’s post, I’ll share this technique I’ve developed and will discuss how you might use these kinds of sigils for a range of purposes, particularly for gratitude practices and land healing.

 

What is a sigil?

The concept of a sigil, a magical symbol imbued with intention, has been a longstanding part of many esoteric traditions. All through the history of hermetic magic and western occultism, sigils have been used for a variety of purposes (such at those found in the Three Books of Solomon, including the most famous Lesser Key of Solomon).  The term “sigil” derives from Latin, meaning a “sign, mark, or seal”.  It comes from the earlier terms sigillum and sigilla (statuettes, little images, seal).  What was a seal, after all, but a sign of power and authority? Sigils have a wide range of uses within various magical traditions and there are lots of possibilities for creating them, empowering them, and employing them.

 

Part of our ground sigil at MAGUS 2018

Druids don’t seem to use sigils much as part of our tradition, but occasionally they surface. For example, one of the big rituals we put together for MAGUS 2018, a land healing ley line ritual, used a giant sigil on the earth to help focus our intentions and movement. I have been incorporating sigils for a long time in my own spiritual practices, especially for land healing work and gratitude practices on the land.

 

One of the ways I like to think about sigils within the framework of Druidry is that they are a synthesis of all three of the druidic expressions: we use the bardic arts to bring them to life, but use druid and ovate wisdom in order to help create the spaces and intentions for their work. It is through this synthesis that the sigil itself can emerge–born of our bodies, minds, and spirits. I think there is a lot of potential for sigil work, both within the bardic arts (integrating specific sigils into your visual arts) and also as part of a larger nature spiritual practice.

 

In the rest of this post, I’ll share one sigil making technique, adapted and expanded from Jan Fries’ Visual Magic.  Early in his book, Fries describes part of this process–what I’ve done is add my own take to it, expend it, and make it fit within a more druid framework.

 

Preliminaries

My chalk pastels (garage sale find!)

Supplies. In order to make sigils, you don’t need much. You need something to draw with and you need some paper.  I prefer to do sigil making on large paper rolls of recycled paper (you can get brown recycled paper rolls easily).  The larger roll allows for more free expression while the sigil is being created. The second thing you will need is some kind of media for drawing: I am using chalk pastels (which show up beautifully on the dark background).  You could use a box of crayons (which would work great on white paper), colored pencils, oil pastels, etc.  I think you would get a different effect if you used wet media vs. dry (the dry media allow you to pay less attention to the needs of the media, like mixing paint colors or using water).  But by all means, experiment!

 

After I complete the sigil on paper, I like to make it more permanent in some way (particularly for the kinds of uses that my land healing sigils are for). For this, you might create a sigil in clay, in wood, or painted on a stone.  In my example above, I am using round wood slices with a wood burner.

 

Setting intention. The other thing you will need is an intention. Setting your intention in advance is a useful practice and can be done through a simple meditation technique.  I used discursive meditation (described in the link the last sentence) to help me set my intentions for my sigil work.  I think its important to spend some time with your intentions (the whole idea of being careful what you wish for!) I think it’s useful to consider carefully what intentions you might want to put into a sigil and out in the world: that your intentions are good and with sacred intent.

 

For today’s walkthrough, I am working on a series of land healing sigils.  I used to carry around just one sigil that I’d leave everywhere; like a general blessing sigil.  I crafted it many years ago and have been painting it with walnut ink on stones and on the insides of hickory shells and acorn caps.  I would take these in a little bag with me wherever I would go.  But recently, when I was at a site where they were doing mountaintop removal, I didn’t want to leave one.  The general “blessing” energy wasn’t right for that site–it needed a “sleep” and “soothing” kind of energy, and my sigil energy wasn’t working for that purpose.  So I decided to create a whole set of new land healing sigils (which I will share in an upcoming post so others can use them too).  My intention for the sigil in today’s post is a “linking” sigil for land healing work.  I have meditated on this concept and have been working with it for many years and felt it was the right time to put this intention into a visual form.

 

Sigil Making Walkthrough

Start by opening up a sacred grove or sacred space as your own tradition may offer. If you don’t have a sacred grove/space opening, something simple like calling in the four quarters, purifying the space with the elements, and offering a prayer or two (like the druid’s peace prayer) can work. You can then imagine a grove of trees around you, protecting the space and giving you the sacred time in which to work.

 

Once your space is set, return to your intention (or spend some time in meditation).  Feel through and think through your intention before starting the sigil and make sure it is aligned with your overall journey and goals.  Take all the time you need to do this work.

 

Now, take out your supplies and give yourself a lot of paper to work on.  Keep your intention in your mind, and start moving the pastel across the page.  Don’t worry about what it looks like or where you are going.  Just keep drawing.  As you draw, you might switch colors when one particular part of the drawing catches your eye.  I do this several times, working my way through my own intentions and allowing the drawing to unfold with different colors.   As I work, the sigil itself takes shape (if you see my first photo in this post, that’s after doing a single sigil for quite a while!)

Starting the ley sigil

Continuing to work on the ley sigil

First drawing is done

At some point, you may feel the first drawing is done, but the sigil isn’t complete.  Take a piece of that drawing, whatever piece speaks to you, and re-create it next to the first drawing on your paper.  Now keep going with the same technique as before.  Here, we can see part of that first drawing coming into the second one.

Second drawing underway

I did this a third time and worked with the final sigil a bit more.

Third drawing begins

Final sigil drawing on paper

Now, consider making it more permanent by transferring it to a more permanent media like wood, stone, thicker board, or ceramic.  I want to transfer my paper based sigil to some other surface, something that will actually seal the intention and magic into the sigil.  To do this, after meditating on the final sigil on paper, I switch it to a more permanent media (painted stone, woodburning, etc).  So for this, I took a cedar wood round and then allowed the wood to work with the sigil, which changed it a bit more.  Again, I don’t try to exactly replicate the paper sigil, but allow the wood to speak to the sigil and the final sigil to emerge.  Usually, the sigil may be further simplified during this final process.

The final sigil in wood

 

TAfter making your sigil, you will want to do additional ritual to empower it.  I prefer a “raising energy” approach, particularly as you used a more contemplative and inner approach to set your intention.  So, in a sacred space, drum around your sigil, raise your voice in song, dance, bring the power of the elements and the powers of nature and spirit that you work with, and ask them for aid in empowering this sigil.  There is no right or wrong way; feel your way into this work and do what feels right.

 

After that, you set it to work helping you with whatever intention that might be.  For this specific sigil above, I will create these and put them in a pouch that I carry with me, being one building block of my larger land healing and blessing work. That’s how these particular sigils are best put to use.  But other sigils may be put to use in other ways, depending on your intention.  If you are seeking a peaceful home, you might create a piece of art with that sigil and hang it on the wall in your house.  If you were working on a sigil for healing for a sick friend, you might create it (with their permission of course) and then give it to them to put by their bedside.  While there is no wrong way to use a sigil–the energy of it does need to get out into the world in some specific way.

 

Variants

Here are two variants you can try.  A more traditional sigil making technique starts not with random drawings, but with quickly written letters from the intention one on top of each other.  You write the letters quickly and stylistically, not even caring if they are legible.  Then you work with the layer of letters, in the same way I did above. If you are a very word-based person, you might appreciate this way to start your work.

A second variant is an ovate variant where you work with nature to create a sigil for a natural purpose.  Take portable media and materials out to a place that you want to work with.  Do everything as above, but rather than YOU setting the intention, put it out to nature to set the intention.  You are simply, then, the instrument that creates the sigil.  This technique is also very powerful for land healing, and I’ll also write about it in more detail in an upcoming post.  You can do this with snow sigils among other things!

 

I hope you find this technique useful and helpful!  I’d love to hear your thoughts about how you create sigils, how you use them, and how they might work within nature-spirituality based practices.

 

Awen, Bardic Arts, and the Ancestors November 3, 2019

The time between Samhain and Yule is always a time of deep reflection for me.  As a homesteader, this represents the end of the season– the first frost happened in the week I was drafting this post, making everything curl up and die. By the time late November comes around, any major outdoor projects are complete for the year. We anticipate, even embrace, the winter months when snow carpets the ground and all is frozen and still.  While in the light half of the year, I spend most of my spare time gardening, doing various permaculture projects, or just being outside in the summer. In the dark half of the year, this is when I turn to more inward-focused bardic arts, more intense practice of my magic and journeying,  and learning from books of all kinds.  So as we move into the dark half of the year, I’ll be spending some more time on my bardic arts and awen series of posts as that is where my mind is moving into.

 

Awen and the bee

Today’s post explores the ancestral connection to the bardic arts and considers how we might explore our ancient ancestors by working with their art forms and using their work as inspiration. This is part of my larger series on the bardic arts. For earlier posts, see, Taking Up the Path of the Bard, Part 1, Taking up the Path of the Bard Part II, Taking up the Path of the Bard, Part III – Practice makes Perfect, Cultivating the Awen, A bardic storytelling ritual for empowerment, rituals, and activities to enhance creativity, and the fine art of making things.  Finally, you might be interested in reading my 2018 Mount Hameus research piece, supported by the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids.

 

Bardic Arts and Our Ancient Ancestors

Many ancent human ancestors practiced the bardic arts. Every culture on the planet, in addition to having language, also has many forms of bardic arts: music, storytelling,  fine crafts, fine arts, drumming, singing, dance and bodily expression, and much more. Some of how we know this from archeology and the kinds of things we find in museums.  For every “functional” tool, we also see one decorated or objects that are purely decorated.  Our ancestors (and by this, I mean human ancestors of all kinds) painted on the walls of caves, shaped clay, wove, and used colors.  They sang and told stories and danced.  They practiced fine crafts and honed their skills in incredible ways–some ways which have been lost to us in the modern era.   But more than what can be found in the historical record–we know this.  We know this because we seem to have been evolved to create.

 

Some of the earliest records of art are 65,000-year-old cave paintings by Neanderthals, as reported by Nature Journal In 2018, scientists reported cave drawings by homo sapiens that were at least 75,000 years old. The cave paintings and drawings endured over time, even when likely many of their other art forms vanished.  But I’m certain that these images were not the only kinds of bardic arts that our ancient ancestors did.  The oldest known instruments are the Gudi flutes, which are a kind of crane bone flute.  I actually have a bamboo flute modeled in the style of the Gudi flute, made by Erik the Flutemaker. He doesn’t appear to make that one anymore, but he does make a similar ice age flute.  When I play my flute (in a pentatonic scale), I wonder how similar this music might be to the ancestors.  I could keep going with many other kinds of bardic arts:  dancing, storytelling, fiber arts, pottery, basketry–I think you get the idea.  If we look deeply into our own cultural history, and deeply back much further into prehistory, we can see that the bardic arts were clearly practiced by our ancient human ancestors.

Awen from the heavens

This leaves us with at least two exciting possibilities, both of which I’ll now explore.  The first is the ability to connect with our ancestors, modern and ancient, by practicing intentional bardic arts.  The second is to work with their awen and be inspired by their creations for your own.

 

Connecting to the Ancestral Bardic Arts

The first possibility is that we can connect to our ancestors by practicing some of the bardic arts they may practice. I’ll go back to my crane bone flute for a minute to share an example. If I’m playing my flute by myself, I close my eyes before I play it and take deep breaths. I feel my consciousness stretching back through time to reach those ancient human ancestors who may have played similar instruments. Once I reach that space, I begin to play, letting whatever notes come to me in any order. Sometimes, good things happen with the music when I do this. If I am playing my flute with others, I will begin by briefly sharing what the flute is, what it is modeled after, and ask them to close their eyes and connect with those ancient ancestors. And then I play a song. I think this is quite different than just playing the flute for people–of course, people are drawn to music and love to hear it, but understanding that this flute has a deeper ancestral connection gives us that deeper experience.

 

If you want to explore your own ancestors (or more broadly our common human ancestors), there are a few different approaches. The first is to research the history of the thing you already do and learn about it from an ancestral point of view.  For example, if you tell stories, see if you can find the oldest stories and information about how these stories were conveyed, who told them, and so forth.  If you play an instrument, learn about the history of that instrument, what older versions of the instrument exist, and maybe see if you can get one (like my little crane bone flute). If you like to write, learn about etymology (the history of words) and the history of writing (which is so fascinating!)  This approach is good for someone with an established bardic practice, someone who maybe wants to take their practice in a new and interesting direction.

 

You could also do the opposite–pick your ancestors, and then learn what you can about them and their bardic arts. Once you’ve done this, start practicing one or more bardic arts. You don’t have to go back to pre-history for this: any group of ancestors at any time are possible sources of inspiration. This, for example, is why I occasionally dabble in making hex signs.  My ancestors were Pennsylvania Dutch (German) and the hex signs can still be found on barns all over my region. Once I started doing family history, finding a family bible with small charms written in it (all in German, of course), and so on, the ancestral connection to this tradition grew within me and I wanted to build some of that into my bardic arts practice. This is also why I practice pysanky (and my motivation for having so many different egg-laying birds!) and play the panflute!

Awen and growth

Awen and growth

Ancestral Awen as Sources of Inspiration

I shall sing of the awen, which

I shall obtain from the abyss

Through the awen, though it were mute

I know of its great impulses

I know when it minishes;

I know when it wells up;

I know when it flows;

I know when it overflows.

–Taliesin, “The Festival” from the Book of Taliesin, 13th century

This is one of my favorite poem segments, from Taliesin, who is thought in the Celtic world to be the greatest bard who ever lived. Here, he’s speaking of his deep relationship with the awen, and how he understands it, and how he cultivates it. Although he cannot speak to it directly (“though it were mute”) we can see how he knows exactly how to work with it.  Taliesin is, as he says, a master of the awen.  When he wrote, he was bringing that spark of awen and transforming it into poems, stories, and songs.  So, too, were other practicing bards throughout the ages–some named,  many nameless. Even though we don’t know all of their names, the work that they have left us still stands–in museums, in our buildings and architecture, in our stories and songs.

 

Another ancestor-focused practice tied to the bardic arts, then, is focusing on using historical bardic works for inspiration.  Many masterful designers use this approach (I was taught a version of this approach in two different master classes teaching radically different skills–leatherwork and figure drawing).  We can look go previously created works, preferably historical, for inspiration.  To do this, I go to museums for inspiration.  Perhaps I see a pattern I really am drawn to; I take reference photos (if photographing is allowed, and if not, I get a copy somewhere). I take walks around, looking at patterns and beauty in old buildings, old iron gates, and so forth. I combine these photos with inspiration from the natural world. I do this for a while, gathering bits and pieces of ancestral inspiration.  I develop an ancestral library of sorts, which compliments my nature-based library of inspiration.  Then, the next time I sit down to design something, I use those photos as inspiration.

 

This kind of practice creates almost like a chain of awen. The awen was sparked by some ancient bard, somewhere in prehistory. That bard inspired others, and new works were created.  Some of those works remained available to me, as a modern bard, and I can draw upon their inspiration.  How many previous works inspired the one I’m looking at today?  How many ancestors am I touching, in finding inspiration in their own work? How many future bards may my work inspire?

 

 

 

What can Druidry offer in dark times? October 7, 2018

Things seem broken right now. These last two weeks have been a very hard week for many people. The national conversation here in the USA grows more difficult by the day, and it seems nearly every nation is facing many kinds of serious issues. These challenges are happening concurrently at many levels—internationally, but also in communities we care about, in our families, in our homes. Things are tough. They seem tougher for many of us today than they were yesterday. Many of us fear that they will likely be even tougher tomorrow. This is the reality of industrial decline, the reality of the climate crisis before us.

 

The questions that I’ve had for myself, and my fellow druids is a simple one: what can druidry offer us in these dark times?

 

I’ve been thinking about the role of druidry in all of this, this question a lot, not only over the last several weeks, but over the last few years as it becomes more and more obvious that humanity has chosen for itself a course that we cannot escape from.  I wanted to share with you some of my own thoughts and practices that you, too, may find healing and strength in them.  I’ll group my answers to this question in three areas, reflecting the three major branches of druidry: that of the bard, the ovate, and the druid, and then offer some overall thoughts on the tradition and druidic philosophy itself.

 

Bardic Responses: Within and Without

The bardic arts within the druid tradition are varied and multiplicitious. In my OBOD 2018 Mount Haemus Lecture, when I researched the bardic practices of almost 250 druids worldwide, I found that nearly all of them saw their bardic practices first and foremost as a spiritual practice that gave them peace, strength, and the ability to function better in the world. For a much smaller portion of people, art was a medium for them to express their feelings, hopes and dreams–about nature, about the crisis of our age–through their bardic expression. We’ll now consider each of these in turn.

 

Bardic Arts as Inner Healing

Art journals for processing and healing

Art journals for processing and healing

For many of us, during these difficult times, it is important to have something to retreat to.  Soemthing that calms us, provides us distance, space, and perspective.  For those of us who practice a bardic art, the practice of that art can certainly be a source of refuge. Druids from around the world use the bardic arts as a way of making meaning of the world, processing difficult things, and grounding.

 

Some bardic practitioners work best when they are in a “healthful” headspace, however, and feel that they can’t create something if they aren’t happy.  But my response to that is–create.  Express.  Get it out.  The audience for some of our bardic expression can be only us, never anyone else, and that is healthful and helpful for these dark times.  For me, I use art journaling as a bardic expression that is meant solely as a healing medium–one that nobody else has to see, and not even one I necessarily hold onto after it is completed (I’ve thrown many a journal in the Samhain fires to release the energy I put into them!). The point here is to find something you can do from a bardic perspective: song, dance, drumming, photography, artwork, writing, singing, movement, woodworking, and so on–and let it help you find peace.  If you aren’t sure how to get started in this, you might check out my Taking up the Path of the Bard series of artices here, here, and here.

 

Bardic Arts as Outward Response and Change

It has long been the case that artists, musicians, dancers, singers, storytellers, and the like, helped carry parts of culture with them, respond to culture, and work to change culture through their art.  Consider the power of a photograph, a story, or a song. Sometimes, a single image can impact people–and enact changes in perceptions and behaviors–in ways other forms of communication cannot.

 

And so, for those of us drawn to it,  the other way our bardic practices may help us respond and deal with the crisis of our age is through external expressions–bardic practices that help us get our message out there, help us help others, help others see a new perspective, and so on.  Unsurprisingly, for me, that’s a lot of the writing I do on this blog–I can’t control what is happening more broadly, but I do feel, at least in this small corner of the web, that I am doing something good.  It doesn’t have to be big, the important thing is feeling empowered to do something.

 

Ovate Responses: Seeking Solace in the Living Earth

Part of the challenge in present culture is the constant flow of information, the constant bombardment. These larger cultural currents seem to crash over and over again like powerful waves, knocking us over, beating us up, and then knocking us over again. Finding ways of shielding against this flow of information and getting regular—and long—breaks from it can be very helpful. For this, I like to find quiet time in nature.

 

Grounding and Flow, or the Druid Elements of Calas and Gwyar

A while ago on a similar topic, I wrote about the interplay between calas (grounding/stability) and gwyar (flow/adaptablity) and how both are necessary in these times. Seeking solace in nature can offer us either–or both–of these things as we need them.

 

Seeking the stabilizing forces of nature can help give us strength in these difficult times.  Work with stones, the earth, trees, mountains, or caves can be particularly powerful to help connect with Calas and offer us grounding. The Oak tree down by the river is not going to throw re-traumatizing bullshit my direction, she is not going to bombard me with things I don’t want to see, or frustrate me with her lack of integrity. She is simply going to be as she always is: stable, welcoming, and powerful. When I sit with her, and simply breathe. I can sit with her for 5 minutes or 5 hours, and she will always offer me the grounding and stability of her presence.

My favorite spot for connection on my land

My favorite spot for connection on my land

 

Similarily, these times require us to be flexible, to be adaptable, and to be willing and ready to change, even if change is difficult.  Nature also offers us the energy of gywar for this purpose, primarily through clouds, wind, and water. When I go out on my kayak on the Clarion river, I am offerd both zero cell phone signal (so no unwanted intrusions) and the activity of learning to go with the flow, to float, and to let the river guide me. Likewise, laying on the solid earth and watching the leaves blow and the clouds flow is another excellent way to connect with this energy.

 

Retreat and Rejuvenation: Nature Heals

In this broken time, I like to places that are damaged and in the process of healing.  Nature is a master healer, and learning to read her landscape and the healing that happens in each breath can remind us of our own capacity to heal. Old fields that are now bursting with life, logged forests that are coming back into health. The dandelion, in her bravery, pushing up through the sidewalk and giving no care.  The mushrooms on the stumps that offer the promise of new beginnings from old wounds, breaking down the old so that the new can come in.

 

Here in Pennsylvania, almost all of our forests are in a state of healing. 100 years ago, according to the 1898 PA Department of Agriculture Forestry publication, 98% of Pennsylvania’s forests were logged. Stripped bare,, used to support mines, lay rails, and make charcoal for steel production. Some of these forests are so regenerated that its hard to tell that they had ever been damaged. Others show the tell-tale signs of ecosystems still regenerating.  I like to go to these places, these healing-in-progress places, and be reminded that nature can heal all wounds, given time. We are part of nature, and therefore, we, too, can heal. You can also take this idea much further by doing a druid retreat–retreat into nature for a time (a few hours, a day, a week or more).

 

Druid Responses: Stability in our Practices

Spiritual practices offer much in the way of healing and strengthening us in these difficult times, and in the druid arts, these primarily center around the practices of ritual and mediation.

 

Daily Meditation as Emotionally Beneficial and Balancing

Watching the healing happening--pain transformed into soil!

Watching the healing happening–pain transformed into soil!

Daily deep breathing, mediation (of any form, but especially nature based) and simply being quiet for a time can greatly aid us.  Even taking three deep breaths when we get upset, maybe closing our eyes for a few moments to let the intense emotions slip away–these simple mediative practices can be incredibly sheltering during these times.  More and more research is coming out on the benefits of mediation as a way of promoting more happiness, less anxiety, and better approaches to handling stress and strain.  A daily meditation practice offers you such benefits–and certainly, it is a core part of our tradition.

 

Meditation in the druid tradition is often combined with being in nature–walking meditation, meditation in stillness or focus, or simply, sitting quietly and not allowing your thoughts to overtake you.  Discursive meditation also ofters a powerful tool to step back from emotions and think through them.

 

Here are a few powerful tools:

  • Observation meditation: Find something you want to observe for a period of time (an intricate flower, a lizard, a bird, a tree).  Do three deep breaths, then return to a normal breath pattern.  Observe and be in stillness.
  • Oneness meditation: Similar to the above, find a part of nature with which you want to connect.  A waterfall, a stone, a tree, etc.  Mind your breath and then imagine that part of nature encompasing you, and bringing you in line with its energy.  Take that energy within you with each breath, and on each outbreath, release any pain or suffering.
  • Discursive meditation.  Discursive meditation helps with focused thinking; the idea in a nutshell is that you choose a theme for meditation.  This can be something that is causing you pain or something you want to understand more.  Now, think deeply about it, following one thought to the next.  If you find yourself deviating from the original thought, trace it back through.  I have found this strategy particularly helpful for working to get at the root of emotions–why am I having this emotion? And once I have the root, I can work on it directly.

 

The Wheel of the Year and Ritual Work for Clearing and Healing

In the Druid’s wheel of the year, we recognize that the dark times are part of the natural cycle of things, that they are part of life and the passage of time.  Still, it is difficult to live in a time of decline, when we know that winter is quickly approaching, and there is nothing we can do to shelter from that storm. Take advantage of the season that is upon us for introspection and healing work that the dark half of the year provides.  It allows–and encourages us–to go deeply within, to cast off that which no longer serves us, to re-orient our relationship to the darkness of this time, and to bolster ourselves and strengthen ourselves for what is to come.

 

Ritual work can be highly effective for this goal.  Writing simple rituals for yourself, tied to the wheel of the sun and the phases of the moon (or simply, when you need them) can greatly aid you in these dark times.  Rituals don’t have to be elaborate affairs, they can be simple.  Some ritual actions you might take include:

  • Releasing: Letting go of emotions, feelings, pain, other things that are not serving you any longer.  Rituals where you throw things into water or where you release things with water are particularly helpful here.
  • Cleansing: simple rituals to cleanse you (particulalry after releasing) can also be helpful here.  Smudging with herbs, asperging with water, doing a naked or barefoot forest bath, clearing yourself with the energy of the sun–all of these can be powerful cleansing rituals.
  • Energizing/strengthening: Bringing in energy to help bolster you during these difficult times. Drawing in the power of nature, the energy of the sun, the strength of the oak–whatever you need to help strengthen and ground you.
  • Shielding:  Shielding rituals are particularly effective in this day and age, and I suggest every person develop one and use it if they don’t already have one.  I use the AODA’s Sphere of Protection (which offers banishing, energizing, and shielding in one 5 minute or less ritual)–using this daily helps clear me and offer me balance and strength.

These are just some simple ideas–the important point here is to work with nature, work with whatever other powers you have, to find ways of strengthening you, cleansing you, energizing you, shielding you, and releasing the pent up emotions of these hard times.

 

Druidry as an Alternative Life Philiosophy

Observing and interacting with nature in a sacred manner offers us much in the way of re-aligning ourselves, and our worldview, towards that of the living earth.  Modern industrial and consumerist culture has a set of beliefs that have spiraled us into many of the challenges we face–and druidry offers us alternative perspectives and philosophies that can be counter-balancing in these times.  These include:

  • Tertiary thinking. Tertiary thinking encourages us to avoid false binaires and to consider alternative perspectives beyond those which are given
  • Recognizing the cycle and season. Modern American culture (and I suspect many others) demand that we are always in what I’ll call “high summer.”  High summer is high energy, with lots of activity, long days, lots of abundance. But life isn’t like that–and the more that you follow and align yourself with a wheel of the year and the cycles of nature, the more that this view will shift into a view that embraces, or at least accepts, that we also go through cycles in our lives, and cycles in our culture.
  • Nature as sacred and healing. Unlike much of culture, which sees nature as something that can be exploited, we druids recoginize the sanctity of all life, the sacredness of the living earth, and her power to heal.  This can, by extension, put us in different relationship with everything–for all things, ultimately, come from her and return to her.
  • Understanding time differently. Living by the seasons and wheel of the year also puts us in a different relationship with time; rather than time being a line, time can be a circle or spiral, which offers us powerful tools for reflection and strengthening. I wrote more about this in my series on time a few years ago here, here, here, and here.

 

Druidry as A Response to this Age

If you think about what druidry does, what the different paths do, it very much is a way of reconnecting us with those things that are the most important: our connection with nature, our connection with core practices that sustain us, and our connection with our creative spirit. It offers us tools, strategies, and powerful metaphors to help us adapt, relfect, and ground.

 

Druidry as a spiritual tradition is a response to our age.  As druidry develops, as we figure out what the druidry of the 21st century should be (as opposed to the druidry of the 19th century or even druidry of the 20th century), I think all of us have much to contribute to this conversation.  I would love to hear your own thoughts on what druidry–or other earth-centered spiritual practices– do for you, how they help, and what potential it may have for us during these dark times.

 

Awen!

Awen!

 

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!

 

A Druid’s Meditation Primer February 11, 2018

In this time as the light is coming back into the world, the time surrounding Imbolc, I find myself often going deeply inward for healing and strength and turning towards meditation as a guide for spiritual balance.  This deep winter period is, of course, coming on the heels of the frenzied holiday season where many of us get burned out by the amount of hustle and bustle.  Further, many of the demands of modern living, particularly for those working wage-earning jobs, require us to move faster, be always “connected” and present with new technology, and have an increasingly fast stream of information pouring in and out of our heads. This can lead to long-term drain on the spirit. In this quiet time of the year, amidst the snows and frozen earth, various meditation techniques allow for rest, centering, and rejuvenation.

 

The quiet that nature provides...

The quiet that nature provides…

Meditation offers us a quiet moment away from the hustle and bustle of normal life—a sacred moment, a moment that gives us peace and allows us to be only within our own minds. And yet,  I think that “meditation” for a lot of people raises up images of sitting cross legged ohm-ing or doing deep breathwork (the kind of meditation you might see on TV or find in a Yoga class). These forms of meditation are certainly effective, but represent only a small number of possibilities, and may not be as useful or practical to those who are on a druid path and seeking to connect deeply with nature. Particularly for those walking a nature-based spiritual path, other meditative forms might be more effective and connecting.  I would like to explore some of those today.

 

Three Outcomes of Meditation

Its always interesting to talk with a spiritual practitioner of another path. I have several good friends who have deep Yoga, Zen, and mindfulness practices, and when we talk about daily spiritual life, we find a lot of similarity–but also a lot of difference. In conversations with these friends, I have realized how important it is not to assume the word “meditation’ carries the same meaning, and to talk instead about the specific practices that we do. I have come to understand that  meditation is not a single technique but a wide range of techniques that work on the relationship between mind, body, and spirit and that offer spiritual benefit. These goals of meditation can manifest in at least three ways:

 

Clearing Meditation: Some forms of meditation encourage us to disconnect from the troubles and everyday grit of living–to facilitate peace, calm, tranquility. In eastern meditation, we might have “empty mind” kinds of meditation, where the goal is simply to clear one’s mind for a period of time or practice 30 or 45 minutes of quietude a few times a day. In druid and western meditation techniques, this might be when we practice a “fourfold breath” technique at the beginning of a meditation session to simply clear out what was there. Other forms may connect us to universal energies or our higher self. These goals are very “up and out” kinds of goals, and can certainly be useful and spiritually enriching. I also think these kinds of goals are really useful for distressing and finding ourselves again after busy life circumstances–the kinds of meditation that offer us real health benefits and stability.

 

Connection Meditation. Other kinds of meditation practices ask us to work to be fully present with the moment. I see mindfulness practices from Eastern tradition as a great example of this as well as the practices of nature observation, walking meditation, and other goals that connect us deeply with nature. In this broader goal then, the point of the meditation seems opposite of the first–it isn’t to help us clear and get us out of a present reality, but rather, put is in touch with one.

 

Focus Meditation. A final goal for some types of meditation is the goal of focus. I see this goal really clearly in the use of discursive meditation, where the goal of discursive meditation is to help direct thoughts and lead to deep insight. A second meditation where this happens is shamanic trance and journey work, where inner journeys are facilitated by a particular receptive–and yet focused–state of mind.

 

Reconnecting with the land

Reconnecting with the land

Breaking meditation into these three categories has helped me with my own meditation practice, and it has certainly also helped me teach these techniques to others and explain the benefits.  If you simply want to “meditate every day” as many druid and esoteric traditions suggest, you have to figure out what you’d like to get out of the meditation so that you can use appropriate techniques. If you use only one form of meditation always, you are getting a particular benefit but may not be getting the full range of benefits that different styles of meditation provides. You can also combine meditation styles (starting with a clearing meditation and moving into a focus meditation, for example) for maximum benefit.  So now that we have some sense of the goals of meditation, I’m going to share some meditative techniques that can be helpful for us to achieve them, specifically from a druid-based framework.

 

Preliminaries: Posture and Breathwork

Before you begin any kind of meditation, priming the body and mind for the meditation is necessary. This priming includes posture and breathwork.

Posture: Many meditation techniques suggest a particular posture (sitting in a straight-backed chair with the spine upright, sitting cross legged on the ground on a small pillow to elevate the spine, standing comfortably, laying flat on a hardwood floor with a yoga mat underneath, and so on). I have two thoughts on this subject.  First, because different meditation techniques have different outcomes, the position of the body may need to be different for these.  For deep journey work, for example, my preferred posture is laying on the ground on a yoga mat.  For a simple 10 minute clearing meditation, I’d prefer to sit cross legged outside on a stump or on the ground in front of a candle. So as you think about the roles and goals of your meditation, different postures may be helpful.

 

Another consideration is that some bodies do not do well with certain postures.  For example, some people are very comfortable sitting in straight-backed chairs or standing for long periods of time, while other bodies may hurt after only a few minutes of this practice.  While there is a body element to meditation, in that you can train your body, just as you train your mind, you can also be aware of what your body’s limits are.  Early on, for me, trying to maintain a rigid pose when my body doesn’t want to do that led me to frustration and shorter meditations.  When is tarted laying down and using a yoga mat, I was able to gain tremendous benefits without body sensitivity.

 

Breathwork is used in nearly all meditation styles, and styles of meditation connected with druidry is no exception.

  • Three Deep Breaths: Three deep breaths is a technique taught by OBOD and used at the start of many OBOD ceremonies.  It is a very simple clearing meditation technique where you take three deep breaths, typically tied to the elements of earth, sea, and sky.  So you can simply stand and take a deep breath with the sky above you, with the sea around you, and with the earth beneath you.  And those three deep breaths can be a very simple meditation technique in their own right or as a gateway to deeper work.
  • Four-fold breath. The four-fold breath is a breathing technique that helps you settle into a meditation and is used in many esoteric practices and traditions. I see it as being used for both focus and clearing purposes.  I was taught it through the work of John Michael Greer (Druidry Handbook and other works).  In this technique, you focus on counting to regulate your breath in four equal ways.  The way I do it is this: breathing in for the count of three, hold your breath (lightly) for a count of three, breath out for a count of three, and pause (again lightly) for a count of three.  JMG warns that if you close off your throat at either the inbreath or outbreath to severely, it can lead to long term health complications.   I like to see the fourfold breath almost like a pendulum or swing (breathing in to the moment of apex, where there is that pause and then outbreath, with another pause on the other end, except the time intervals are all equal).
  • Quiet Breath. JMG also describes “quiet breath” as another meditation technique–after doing a four-fold breath, for example, you might transition into quiet breath for the remainder of the meditation (this is the technique with discursive meditation, taught in the AODA’s tradition).  Quiet breath is a normal breathing pattern, where you are lightly breathing in and out in your normal rhythm.  The idea is transitioning away from breath being a central focus of your meditation and into other work.

 

Three Nature Meditations for Druids

Now that we have some of the preliminaries covered, I thought I’d share three meditation techniques that can work well for those practicing a druid path, framed within the three paths or perspectives of druidry: druid arts, ovate arts, and bardic arts.  I also want to indicate that I’m sharing new forms of meditation here–ones that are very connected to druid-based and nature spiritual purposes.

 

The flowing of awen and the river

The flowing of awen and the river

A Druid-Focused Meditation: The druid path asks us to connect deeply with spirit, thus, a simple “clearing” meditation is helpful for the druid path. To do this meditation, you should find a source of running water or falling water (so a rainstorm, stream, flowing spring, or seashore would be highly appropriate). Find a comfortable position near the body of water. Begin with three deep breaths followed by the fourfold breath where you work to simply be present and let go of anything you might be mentally carrying with you. You can switch at this point to quiet breath for the remainder of the meditation. As you enter quiet breath, close your eyes and allow the sound of the water to flow through you, within you, and over you. Simply be with the water, taking the sound into you, feeling the flow of it through you. Do this for a time until you find peace, tranquility, and presence.

 

Water is a very good element to start with for this meditation, but you can actually do it with any of the four elements for different effects. A windy day makes a nice air meditation, as does sitting by the fire, or digging one’s feet in sand or earth. This is a very sense-oriented meditation, but the overall goal is to work with that element to help clear and ground you.

 

I will also note that while I developed this meditation for the purposes of clearing, it also offers benefits for connecting and focus–in other words, it helps us meet all three goals of meditation.

 

An Ovate Mediation: The ovate path asks us to connect deeply with nature, so a walking meditation with a primary goal of “connecting” is a useful for this regard.  For this meditation, go to any natural area and be ready to walk.  Ideally, this should be a place where you are not going to run into a lot of other people, certainly, a place where you don’t have to interact or converse if possible. For this, I like to find a quiet and out of the way path at a state park (but you could go into any natural area that fits your . I begin by standing on the path and doing a simple earth-sea-sky breath and a quiet prayer to ask the spirits of nature to inspire me on this journey.

 

The idea of this meditation is a walking-based meditation, where you get into a state of focus on the world around you, and allow the spirits of nature to simply flow through you and be with you.  For this, the goal is to be in the present moment, experiencing whatever there is to experience, on whatever level there is to experience it.  Observing, interacting, and simply taking it all in and being part of the journey.  This practice leads to deep spiritual awakenings and insights–and each walk, even in the same natural area, can be completely different.

 

A Bardic Meditation: A bardic meditation is often a focus meditation, with the goal of the meditation to bring forth something into the world as part of a nature-enriched creative practice.  For this, it is best to find a place that you find inspiring–a place that sings to your soul.

 

For this meditation, you will want to go to that inspiring place and bring with you the tools of a bardic art you’d like to practice or already do practice. So you might bring an instrument, pen and paper, paints, and so on (I think it is ALWAYS a good idea to bring some kind of recording device as well).

 

Begin by opening up a sacred grove and using the fourfold breath and quiet breath to bring you to a receptive state. Transition into a series of Awen chants, and then simply take the place within you. Be like a sponge, pulling in the energy of that place, hearing that sacred place’s song, story, poem, painting–connecting deeply with spirit. The goal here is to be in a meditative and receptive state so if this place has something it would like you to bring forth, you are able to be ready to have a quiet and receptive mind to do so (the meditation part). The first few times you do this, you might not end up creating anything at all.  But with enough visits and practice, these techniques will put you into a receptive state where awen will flow when it is ready to do so.  

 

This technique, for me, has produced amazing paintings, songs, and words…many of which have ended up here on the Druid’s Garden blog!

 

Concluding Thoughts

There are so many other kinds of meditations that you can do that connect you with nature, your own spirit, and the bardic arts.  I think the important thing, with any of these, is making enough time for these connections to take place.  Not all spiritual work has to be planned–sometimes, the best experiences come from the unplanned things, the things that simply happen, or things for which we make space.

 

A Bardic Storytelling Ritual for Empowerment November 19, 2017

Everyone has a story to tell, and some stories are worth their weight in gold. How we retell past events, through the bardic art of storytelling, can help shape our present understanding.  Thinking about stories as acts of empowerment in this way is particularly important in an age where so many of us feel disempowered. One of the things I’ve noticed a lot lately is that people, of all ages, are really down, feeling defeated, and feeling burned out. They feel like they don’t have a lot of agency or power. And so, using ritual and spiritual practices to help us find our power, and better understand it, is an extremely useful practice.  Storytelling is a form of magic, in this case, through a bardic storytelling ritual, to help empower us and bring us hope.  So today’s post, in line with my larger series on the bardic arts, will look at a simple ritual that you can do with a friend or loved one to listen deeply and empower each other.

 

The Magician from the Tarot of Trees (one of the Archetypes used in the ritual)

The Magician from the Tarot of Trees (one of the Archetypes used in the ritual)

In The Power of Myth, Joseph Campbell in conversation with Bill Moyers (the book is based on a television show) retells old stories and shares his own stories in a compelling discussion that argues that myths, that is, the stories we tell, hold tremendous cultural power. Campbell argues, ultimately, that certain themes or stories are universal (like the hero on a journey) and that by telling these stories, we connect deeply with universal ways of understanding and inhabiting the world.  One of the arguments in the book, as recounted by the conversations between Moyers and Campbell is that western society, and the US in particular, don’t have enough effective stories, which alienate people, offer them less cultural identity and cause other kinds of problems. I’m really glossing over a lot with regards to The Power of Myth and similar kinds of works, but the point here is this–storytelling and connecting with archetypes present in the world is a very important part of human culture.

 

Even though storytelling and connecting to these broader myths is clearly important, a lot of us don’t tell many stories.  They seem largely absent in our lives.  We do have a lot of other people’s stories circulating, particularly, through movies and television, but these are not our own stories.

 

The druid community is a bit different.  If you are lucky enough to have a circle of druids nearby, you might have a chance to participate in an Eisteddfod (Bardic Circle), where we gather around the fire and share many bardic arts–including stories.  The bardic circle is the heartbeat of a druid gathering. But many of the stories shared at the Eisteddfod are not our own–about our own lives, about our own empowerment. What I present today is an alternative to a traditional bardic circle, another way that druids–and many others– might use storytelling in the druid tradition (and other contexts).

 

The Ritual

Archetypes

This ritual is performed by two people. In this ritual, we use the bardic art of storytelling to share stories that are themed through one of four Jungian archetypes (the hero, caregiver, magician, and bard). The goal of the ritual is to have each person tell a story from each of the four archetypes.

The following four archetypes can be used:

  • The Hero (a person who engages in courageous acts)
  • The Caregiver (a person who protects and cares for others)
  • The Bard (a person who realizes a creative vision)
  • The Magician (one who is able to work magic (with magic being broadly defined))

Other archetypes that you might want to include beyond the original four are these:

  • The Explorer (one who goes on a journey)
  • The Lover (one who expresses deep love for another)
  • The Sage (a person who seeks truth and deeper self awareness)
  • The Leader (one who helps lead others)*

(*The original Jungian archetype is “Ruler” but I think that doesn’t’ have the right connotation, so I changed it to “Leader”).

 

Strength from the Tarot of Trees, tied to the Hero Archetype

Strength from the Tarot of Trees, tied to the Hero Archetype

The Setting

The ritual can take place in a formal ritual setting or it can take place in a less formal setting, even over a period of days (like a weekend camping trip).  It is important, I believe, to acknowledge the opening part of the ritual and to close the ritual once the stories are complete.  How this done is up to the individuals, and may be more or less formal.

 

Preparation. Ideally, the two people doing the storytelling ritual have time to think about which story they want to tell, time to reflect upon the archetypes and consider which part of their own past experiences might best fit. You can do this prior to the actual ritual or at the beginning of the ritual (see below).

 

The Ritual

Sacred space. You may choose to open a sacred space in any manner that feels appropriate.  I’d highly suggest this step, as it helps set the “boundaries” for the ritual and creates a safe space for recounting stories.  Using a sacred grove for this is particularly useful (if you are in OBOD, opening a grove in the bardic grade would be quite appropriate).

 

Preparation. If you haven’t yet had the period of preparation, each person can go off for 15-30 min and think about the four archetypes and prepare to tell their stories.

 

Telling the story and Deep Listening.  In this ritual, person takes turns in the role the storyteller and in the role of the deep listener. The storyteller’s job is tell his or her own story accurately and deeply–to share what they want to share.

The deep listener’s job is to fully engage with the other person’s story–through eye contact, listening, and focusing on what is being said.

 

Qualities: At the end of each story, the deep listener shares their own reflection on the story, identifying what they hear and the qualities that the person shared. For example in a tale of the hero, the storyteller might tell a tale about jumping into cold water to save a drowning animal  The listener might hear that the speaker showed bravery, a quick wit, and a deep concern for the life of another. After the deep listener reflects, the storyteller should write down the qualities that deep listener shared.

 

Storytelling continues. Then the two individuals swap roles, and the next story is told. This is repeated until the stories are told for the four archetypes.

 

Reflection: At the end of the ritual, each person should have a list of qualities that they possess.  They should take time to share with each other, reflecting on what they learned about themselves, and the other, as part of the ritual.

 

Close the sacred space. Finally, the sacred space is closed and the ritual concludes.

 

Variants

You can also engage in this ritual with a number of variants.

The Empress from the Tarot of Trees, tied to the Caregiver

The Empress from the Tarot of Trees, tied to the Caregiver

Variant 1: One theme and a Larger Group. In a larger group (say, 4-6 people) you can choose one archetype and allow everyone to tell a story about it.  In a much larger group (say, 10-40 people), you can split people into groups of 4-6 and allow the stories to be shared in a more intimate way.  I haven’t done this with a very large group, but I have done it with a group of 5 people–we went through two rounds of storytelling by the fire and it was very powerful, especially with multiple “listeners” to all contribute to the qualities they heard.

 

Variant 2: Tarot Card Theme. One variant is to use tarot cards with all eight themes and let people draw the theme of the story they will tell.  Prepare a stack of tarot cards with the eight cards listed below. Each participant chooses 2 cards (make sure they put the cards back before the next person draws). This works either for a pair or a larger group (using variant 1).

Here are the Tarot Card associations:

  • The Hero (a person who engages in courageous acts) — Strength
  • The Caregiver (a person who protects and cares for others) — The Empress
  • The Bard (a person who realizes a creative vision) — The Star
  • The Magician (one who is able to work magic (with magic being broadly defined)) – The Magician
  • The Explorer (one who goes on a journey) – The Fool
  • The Lover (one who expresses deep love for another) – The Lovers
  • The Sage (a person who seeks truth and deeper self awareness) – The Hermit
  • The Leader (one who helps lead others) – The Emperor

Storytelling as Magic

I’ve done this ritual several times over the years, twice with one other person (both times very moving and deep experiences) and once with a larger group of 6 people (using the Tarot card variant, where each of us drew a card and told one story).  Both of these were very moving experiences and I learned a lot not only about myself but about my dear friends who did the ritual with me.

 

I believe a storytelling ritual like this offers us numerous benefits.  First, it gives us an opportunity to connect to some of those deep myths and archetypes that are present within human experience. Second, retelling a story allows us to reconnect to a moment, reflect on that moment, and in some cases, find deeper meaning in a moment of our past.  This allows us to find our strength, even in situations where not everyting was positive.  Third, this storytelling ritual allows your story to be heard deeply and fully by another.  In so many ways, we often aren’t able to be deeply heard by each other–attention spans are short, listening skills aren’t that great, and people are very distracted.  The power of deep listening is a gift that can be given–and it is moving to be really heard and understood.

 

Finally, the entire experience can be incredibly empowering. Retelling our own stories, experiencing them again–and most importantly, having them heard, can help empower us, aid in our own growth and promote our own deeper understanding of self.

 

An Introduction to Druidry October 8, 2017

Two weeks ago, I was asked to speak at our local UU Church (First Unitarian Universalist Church of Indiana, PA) on the druid tradition.  Of course, given the diversity of the druid tradition and the perpetual challenge in answering the question “What do druids believe?” it took some time to sort out what I wanted to say.  I thought I might share these thoughts here as a good introduction to the druid path for those wanting to know more and/or as a resource to share with non-druids.

 

Hemlock Healing

Hemlock Healing

I grew up in the beautiful Laurel Highlands region of Western PA. As a child, I spent every free hour in the forest behind my house, building cabins, exploring, and talking with trees. When I was fourteen, the forest was logged, and my heart broke. For weeks, the grind of the chainsaw was in the air, and I suffered as the forest suffered, my own pain and past trauma welling up within me. I went down into the forest after it was over, to see which of my tree friends had remained–and it seemed like almost nobody had survived. It was so heartbreaking, I ended up not returning to the forest for many years.  Almost a decade later, a friend who was dying of cancer insisted I return with him to that forest—and so we did.  A miracle had occurred. No doubt, the forest was still full of downed trees and brush, but the way was passable, and the land had done tremendous healing. That step, back into the forest, and seeing the healing present, was the first formal step I took on the druid path, a path I’ve now been walking for over decade.

 

Druidry today has both ancient and modern roots.  The tradition is inspired by the ancient Druids, wise sages who kept history, traditions, and guided the spiritual life of their people. The ancient Druids had three branches of study: the bard (a keeper of history, stories, and songs), the ovate (a sage of nature or shaman), and the druid (the keeper of the traditions, leader of spiritual practices, and keeper of the law). Much of what we know about the Ancient Druids today comes through their surviving legends, stories, mythology, and the writings of Roman authors: the druids themselves had a prohibition against writing anything down that was sacred, and so, we have only fragments. But fragments cannot be a full spiritual tradition.

 

In the period between 1700 and 1800, radical changes were happening in the British Isles, here in the USA, and across much of the western world. The rise of industrialization shifted many relationships between humans and the land. Farmers and peasants who had lived, sustained, and tended the land for countless generations were driven from their homes to work in factories. My spiritual ancestors, those associated with what we now call the “Druid Revival” watched this scene unfolding: the land stripped of her resources for industrialization and progress; the growing emphasis on produced goods over communities; the rampant pollution and exploitation industrialization was creating; the relegating of humans, animals, and the land to a resource for extraction, a machine.  The importance of balance and nurturing the land was quickly being replaced by the ideas of infinite growth at any cost and exploitation. It was during this time that those that founded the druid tradition reached deeply–and creatively–into their own history to the ancient druids, to a time when humans and nature were more connected.  And thus, the beginnings of my tradition, “Druid Revival” was born.

 

A river in the PA Wilds region--once a site of logging, now a site of regrowth

A river in the PA Wilds region–once a site of logging, now a site of regrowth

Industrialization, with so much promise at the time, continues to cause considerable pain to our earth and our human communities—and certainly each community and person experiences this in extreme ways.

 

It is in this seeking of reconnection to nature that we can see how for two and a half centuries, modern druidry is a human spiritual response to the larger wheels of industrialization that have been thrust upon us in the Western world.

 

The ecological crisis is a spiritual crisis as much as it is a crisis of culture. Druidry is us finding our way “home”; back into deep connection with the living earth.  Many people today are drawn to the druid tradition there is “something” missing for them and it is that connection to nature.

 

Like the ancients, the modern druid tradition still recognizes the three divisions in druidry, and each druid embodies aspects of each of the paths of the bard, ovate, and druid.  So, now that we’ve talked about the history of this tradition, I’d like to share information on each of these paths.

 

The first path of druidry is the Druid Path which focuses on dedication, magic, and mystery.

In druidry, nature is our sacred text, and each druid’s relationship and interaction with nature is different–we live in different ecosystems and climates, we are engaged in different kinds of work with the land, we have different cycles and seasons. Because of this, the druid revival tradition recognizes and cultivates the development of a personal spiritual path, and in the druid tradition, these differences are encouraged rather than minimized. In this way, revival druidry has a very similar philosophy to the Unitarian Universalists – belief is an individual choice. Being a druid doesn’t mean you can’t also hold Christian, a Buddhist, a UU, Pagan, or Atheist perspectives. Some of us are simply druids, and many of us are on a pagan path, but we have plenty of others who combine druidry with other things, like Christianity or Hinduism. All are celebrated.

 

Nature

Nature

Of course, in the druid tradition, we have common frameworks inspired by our spiritual ancestors. I belong to two druid orders: the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids (OBOD), which is based in the UK and is the largest druid organization in the world, and the Ancient Order of Druids in America (or AODA), in which I currently serve in a leadership capacity and is focused on North American druidry. In AODA, for example, we have a common set of practices and a three part study program that people can engage in to spiritually connect with nature. These practices include celebrating the solstices and equinoxes, working a daily energetic practice called sphere of protection, engaging in lifestyle changes that honor the earth, planting trees, observing nature, daily meditation; honoring our ancestors of land, tradition, and blood; and practicing of the druid, ovate, and bardic arts. However, the specific expressions of a particular member’s own inner truth are central to the way in which those practices manifest. In fact, different views of the druid tradition interpret the “druid” path in various ways: the druid path is a path of magic, a study of the esoteric arts, a path of advanced practices, and/or a path of leadership.

 

In other words, if you ask five different druids about their beliefs and spiritual path, you’ll likely get seven different answers. But inherent in each of those answers would be an acknowledgement of the sacredness of nature, the power of nature to teach us the deepest lessons, and the importance of reconnection with nature, our creativity, and our spirit.

 

The second path of Druidry is the Path of the Ovate, which focuses on the sacredness of nature.

When people ask what druidry is about, the first thing I share is that it is a path of nature spirituality, that it embraces relationship to nature at its core, and that it honors nature through various activity (like seasonal celebrations of the solstices and equinoxes, nature awareness, and ecological study). And yet, an individual druid’s relationship towards nature is multifaceted: we see nature as sacred, it is our source of wisdom, our sacred text, and our church/sacred space.

 

We recognize that in order to treat nature as sacred, we must align ourselves with nature and her cycles. For us, druidry is a path we strive to walk in each moment and each day, and we work to align our inner truths with our outer actions. We focus on healing the relationship between ourselves and the living earth (and each of us does this in our own way; you might note the number of plant walks I do for charitable causes each year—this is part of my own work on the ovate path). The more that we, as druids, understand the living earth, the more we are able to reconnect with her, but also, to protect and heal what we hold sacred.

 

Another part of the ovate path isn’t just learning about nature and honoring her, but recognizing the inherent role in humans have tending to nature. Many druids find themselves connecting their spiritual life to outer physical practices that give them tools to work with nature. I, for example, practice permaculture, which is a nature-oriented design system that offers me tools to regenerate damaged ecosystems and rather than focus on doing “less harm”, I focus on doing “more good.”

 

Worlds within and without!

Worlds within and without!  Moshashannon State Forst in PA.

Part of the ovate work is the energetic work we do with nature—for example, fracking wells are present throughout the world. Each year, at certain points, druids and other like-minded folks organize to send healing energy to the earth surrounding fracking. We recognize that even if we are physically unable to heal the land, we can energetically support it (much as the practice of Reiki supports a sick person). This practice aligns with a truth known in the druid tradition: as above, so below. As within, so without.

 

Writing in the early 20th century, Max Weber, a strong supporter of capitalism and industrialization, wrote that the world had been disenchanted. Druids, however, know that this is not the case: despite the many imbalances caused by humans in our age and in recent ages past, nature has not lost her magic. Druids see the land as not only a physical thing but a metaphysical thing.  Most druids believe in animistic views of the land, recognizing the soul or spirit in all living things (and often, in places as well). We have experienced, firsthand, the sacredness of the living earth, and it is a powerful thing.

 

The third path of druidry is the Path of the Bard, where Creativity is Sacred.

As the story of Taliesin in the Mabinogion describes, an emphasis on rekindling of our creative gifts is another central aspect of the druid tradition. It is our belief that a core birthright of humanity is to be able to use our bodies, minds, hands, and hearts for creative expression.

 

In fact, one of the core symbols of revival druidry, and a term we chant in our rituals, is “Awen” (Welsh term pronounced “ah-wen” or chanted “Ah-Oh-En”). It was “Awen” that flowed through the ancient bards as they crafted their stories and songs; it was this same awen that flowed through Gwion who became Taliesin. It is Awen that flows from an inspired pen, hand, and body as we learn to once again express ourselves and be whole. It is the “Awen” that has been systematically stripped from us as we allow other people’s commercialized creations to take the place of our own.  And it is the inspiration of Awen we seek as we reconnect with our own creative gifts and expressions and reclaim them.

 

At our gatherings, you will often see an Eisteddfod, or bardic circle, where we share stories, songs, music, poetry, dance, and more while we sit around a roaring fire.  Image it—a hundred druids or more gathered to appreciate and honor our creative gifts. In sum, the third path of druidry is in rekindling our own creative inspiration and recognize the inherent sacredness of our creative work.

 

Concluding thoughts

Stump with reishi growing!

Stump with reishi growing!

Let’s return to the forest of my childhood for just a moment. When I walk in that forest now, my studies in the ovate arts have helped me to understand the landscape: I can see the changes in the ecosystem based on different microclimates, I know the names and uses of many of the plants and trees. However, my years of mediation and energy work also allows me to sense the spirit of things; I can hear the laughter of the creek as it cascades down the blackened stones, and I can hear the message in the creak of the two old trees rubbing together. I come to the ancient Eastern Hemlock stumps that once were my friends and now are gracefully returning to soil, covered and moss and bright red shelf mushrooms. A closer look reveals that these stumps are growing Ganoderma Tsugae, the hemlock reishi, one of the most medicinal mushrooms in the world.

 

Nature’s response to the logging of the forest by human hands was a simple one: to regrow, to heal, and offer humans her own sacred medicine. In a time very soon, the forest may be logged again.  But even if that were to happen, nature will heal.  And in the process of that healing, she will welcome us into her sacred places, into her circle of stones and trees, with open arms.

 

 

PS: I have been selected as the OBOD’s 2018 Mount Haemus scholar and am currently working on a research project about the bardic arts (tied to the learning research I do professionally). I am conducing a short survey to start the project off–if you are willing, I would very much appreciate it if you took my survey!  The link can be found here.