Tag Archives: druid revival

Beyond the Anthropocene: Druidry into the Future

Druidry into the future

Druidry today has both ancient and modern roots, and there have been several distinct “phases” of druid practice historically. While it’s not critical that the practitioner of the modern druid traditions know what I share, it is helpful to have a sense of where the tradition comes from and the forces that shaped it–particularly so that we can think about where we are going.  I want to talk today about both the past of druidry in order that we might talk about its future.  How do we shape our tradition today so that we become the honored ancestors of tomorrow? What is the work that we might consider doing now, as druids, to create a tradition that endures?

Modern druidry is inspired by the Ancient Druids, a group of wise sages who kept history, traditions, and guided the spiritual life of their people. The Ancient Druids lived in areas of Britain and Gaul (modern-day France) as well as in other parts of Europe; the earliest records of the Ancient Druids start around 300 BCE and go about the second century CE, when they were wiped out by the Romans. 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 of what their tradition looked like. But fragments cannot be a full spiritual tradition.

Centuries later, at a time when industrialization began to rise in the in the British Isles in 18th century, a new group of people in the British Isles became interested in the Ancient Druids. Modern Druidry’s spiritual ancestors watched as the wheels of industrialization radically and irrevocably changed the landscape: the land stripped of her resources for industrialization and progress; the growing emphasis on produced goods over communities; deforestation and pollution becoming commonplace; and the relegating of humans, animals, and the land to that of a machine. Modern druidry’s spiritual ancestors began to shape a new druid tradition, inspired by the ancient druids, and beginning with the fragments that had been left behind by the ancients: texts and stone circles alike. The Druid Revivalists reached deeply and creatively into history to return to an earlier time where humans and nature were connected. The Druid Revival movement, therefore, sought to reconnect with nature through ancient and ancestral roots in a time where the broader wheels of industrialization was pushing humans into a very different kind—and ultimately destructive—relationship with nature. It is for this same reason that people today are drawn to the modern druid tradition–there is “something” missing for them and what is missing is often rooted in that lack of connection with the living earth. (Note: This discussion of the rise of modern druidry is heavily influenced by the work of John Michael Greer in the Druidry Handbook.

It is in this perpetual seeking of reconnection that we can see how druidry is a very human response to the larger wheels of industrialization that have been thrust upon most of us in the Western world. Despite the early promise of industrialization and, later, consumerism, we are now living in a world on the brink of ecological collapse. Many of us recognize that we must make a different way forward, and druidry offers one such way. For over 300 years, the ancient druids have offered modern people sources of inspiration and reconnection. The ecological crisis is a spiritual crisis as much as it is a crisis of culture. Druidry, then, is helping us find our way “home.”

A stone circle at Sirius Ecovillage--rebuilding sacred landscape features

Stone Circles – Honoring the ways of our ancestors and creating the sacred spaces for the future

Sharing historically where the druid tradition came from helps us get to what I see as the core of druidry today: focusing on what an ecologically-centered, wildcrafted, localized and living druidry today can look like, how it can help us reconnect, and how it offers us spiritual and practical tools for responding—and taking care of ourselves and the living earth—during the ecological crisis of our age. 

Descending in spirit from the Ancient Druids and descending in principle from the druid revival several centuries ago, the Druid tradition in the 21st century is shaping up to be a vibrant one that focuses both on drawing deeply from the past but also creating a living tradition, and evolving tradition, that meets the needs of both druids and the earth today. I really want to push us to deepen and extend druid practices and the druid tradition—not by eliminating or removing pieces from the existing tradition, but building upon it.

Druidry, as a tradition in its current form (that is, as a path of nature spirituality) has been around less than two centuries. Many druids are scattered around the world, being in small groups or always as solo practitioners. Communities of druids are formalizing, expanding, and establishing their own traditions and paths, rooted in the frameworks of the druid revival tradition.

Druidry is a language that we are starting—only now—to learn how to speak. The metaphor of how a new language is formed is a helpful metaphor in terms of the druid tradition. New languages often form from what is known as a “contact zone.” This is when two established languages come into contact (say, through trade, resettlement, or colonialization) and speakers of each language intermingle and have to figure out how to communicate. What initially forms is what linguists call a “pidgin” language, a language with limited vocabulary from both languages, simplified grammar (usually borrowed from one of the languages, often the dominant one), and limited ways of communicating. This is not anyone’s native language, but something created out of a basic need to communicate. In time, typically a generation or two, the pidgin language becomes a creole language. This happens when children are born hearing the language and acquire it as native speakers. These new native speakers help shape the pidgin language beyond its initial simplified form with more elaborate grammatical structures that can allow for more complex meaning, a richer vocabulary, and so on. Eventually, given enough time, the creole language becomes its own language that is distinct and fully independent from either the parent languages.

Learning how to speak a new language of connection

Many of us are speaking druidry as a pidgin language—we began to walk this path within a contact zone of other dominant religions and childhood religions that have shaped our thinking, reactions, and beliefs. And the basic forms of druidry, like those published in many pioneering books and early curricula from this tradition, helped us get the job done as we developed our unique nature spirituality.  These included basic practices like connecting with nature, celebrating the seasons, practicing the bardic arts, working with spirit. But as we grow into our own druidry, both as individuals and as communities, the kinds of material and practices becoming part of this tradition are expanding considerably.

I believe that druidry as a community is in the place of transitioning from a pidgin to a creole language. As more and more people find our tradition and practice it seriously, and as children begin to be born into and grow up in this tradition, as we are increasingly surrounded by groves and communities, we are able to fully develop and expand various parts of the druid tradition to fit these expanded needs. I’ve witnessed this here in the United States on the East Coast, for example, with tremendous growth not only in the number of druid gatherings per year and number of people wanting to attend, but also the kinds of activities we now do at gatherings: community building, coming of age ceremonies, bardic competitions, croning, and saging rituals, the development of permanent sacred spaces and the creation of widespread energetic networks, and more. Our language of druidry is expanding, and each new voice and perspective has much to offer.

So then, how might we “expand” the language of druidry?  I think every single person on this path, from those new to those who have been walking it for a long time has the opportunity to do so.  Here are some of the ways we might engage in this practice:

1. Develop and Share Wildcrafted and Localized Druidries. While druidry originated in the British Isles, there are more people who practice druidry worldwide and here in North America than ever before.  While I think we should see the British Isles as part of the wisdom and background, it is part of that original contact zone language for those of us who are not in the British Isles.  We will certainly be inspired by the mythology, sacred sites, and spiritual practices–but we must embrace the idea of creating something new that is specifically adapted to where we are rooted today.  For those who don’t live in the British Isles, it is very important to develop locally-based and wildcrafted practices.  The Ancient Order of Druids in America is very committed to a wildcrafted druidry path and has an entire curriculum built around wildcrafted druidry as a core principle. Through learning about ecology, planting trees, spending time in nature, and exploring nature through the bardic, ovate, and druid arts, druids get a deeper sense of place and are able to thus, create a wildcrafted druidry that fits their own immediate ecosystem.

Once you have developed these approaches to druidry, I really want to encourage you to share them.  Put that information out there in the world so that others who live in similar bioregions can learn localized practices.  If you’ve read my blog for a while, you know that’s a lot of what I’m doing here–my Sacred Trees in the Americas series, the Allegheny Ogham, how to make Tree Incenses, Acorn Flour, Tree Wassailing, so many more pieces–these are all pieces of localized druidry that I have developed while living in both the US Midwest and the US Mid-Atlantic regions.  If these pieces help others, the tradition becomes richer and more robust. 

2. Put tired debates of authenticity behind us and instead focus on today and tomorrow. Perhaps this is my revival druid path bias showing, but I am growing very tired of talking about authenticity. I don’t think it moves our tradition forward in any meaningful way, and I think it is disrespectful to our direct spiritual ancestors. Yes, a lot of the early druid revival works and authors have been discredited for taking liberties and creating texts; I find these attempts to discredit them problematic for several reasons, particularly for those who practice druidry.  First, they were working within the bounds of acceptable practice within their own age, not ours. This was an age where forgery and plagiarism of texts were common. Second, the practices of the druid revival tradition work—as attested by tens of thousands of druids worldwide.  If it works, obviously, it was inspired. Third, at this point, some druid revival texts, such as Iolo Morganwg’s Barddas, have considerably shaped our tradition for several centuries. And finally, regardless of some of their practices, the Druid Revivalists as a group had an enormous impact in a wide range of fields including modern archeology, poetry, culture, and certainly, nature spirituality.  We have fragments from the ancients, and we have a rich history from the revival–both of those shape who we are today.  But it is modern practitioners–you and I–shape who we are tomorrow. So I suggest we set aside these discussions, acknowledge that the practices work, and think about what we are doing today–and how we can move into a better tomorrow.

Refugia Garden Design

Refugia Garden Design

4.  Focus on being a good ancestor. It strikes me that in the age of the present predicament we face, one of the most important things we can do is live today in a way that makes us good ancestors. What can we do today–spiritually, physically, socially, creatively–to create a better world than the one we live in? That preserves the diversity of life on this planet? That helps humans reconnect with the living earth?  These are the kinds of questions that I find really important now, both for my own practice and in the mentoring and support that I offer those in the AODA and broader druid community.  Druidry offers an alternative perspective to the dominant narratives that are currently killing our planet.  It is important that concepts like nature spirituality are rooted firmly now so that these ideas may flourish beyond our own lives. 

5. Create refugia and regenerate ecosystems. As I’ve discussed before on this blog, there are physical and metaphysical practices we can do now, given the challenges we face as a world.  One of the most powerful we can do is preserve small pockets of life and foster ecosystems in any way we can.  Refugia are how so many species–including humans–survived the last ice age.  Small pockets of abundant life not only support the many species on this planet (birds, insects, mammals, reptiles, amphibians, etc) but also offer humans places to deepen their connection to nature.  You can learn more about how to create a refugia or one example of a refugia here.  Another method that is extremely empowering is learning and practicing permaculture design.  These approaches allow us to do more than honor nature or work with it metaphysically, but be a force of good right now, today, and a champion of all life.

6.  Practice resilience.  If events of the last year have taught us anything, it is that the concept of resilience is going to be a critical skill in the years and decades to come.  Resilience is a term I first learned as a permaculture practitioner–resilient ecosystems were those that are able to withstand hardship, recover quickly when faced with difficulty, and had a capacity to endure.  This same concept, I believe, is central to any spiritual work we do.  We need to become both physically and spiritually resilient so that we can continue to face the difficulties that will only grow in seriousness as we live our lives and continue to walk our spiritual paths.

But resilience isn’t easy–it is a process.  I would argue that it requires both inner and outer work. On the inner side, resilience requires us to adapt, be flexible, and be brave. Practicing resilience requires us to privilege our own self-care, put things in perspective, and continue to work through our own feelings. It requires us to understand our own fears, weaknesses, and shadow selves.  Resilence in our physical lives is something that, thankfully, many more people are attending to now than they were a year ago.  It means being better prepared for things that may occur that are unprecedented (like global pandemics or food shortages).  Physical resilience is about having your basic hierarchy of needs met, even in a time of disruption. It is a good time to start growing some of your own food, look into food storage options like a root cellar and pantry, and make sure that you have a monthm at a minimum, of stores to meet your needs. Physical resilience is also about being flexible and opportunistic, almost like the understory trees I wrote about several weeks ago–learning how to be resourceful and adaptable.  I would argue that resilience is a mindset that you can learn.  Resilience is the great challenge of our age, and will allow us to face any other challenges with strength, wisdom, and peace.  It will certainly help facilitate our work in other areas, and will allow us to thrive even in difficult conditions.

I think these are only some of the things we might do now to help us shape a better future for tomorrow.  But I like to think along these lines, in a positive way, because that allows all of us to do good in the world and keep moving in peace, joy, and hope.

Authenticity, Ancestors and the Druid Revival Tradition: Reclaiming our Ancestors and Living Druidry Today

A mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, anthropomorphisms, in short, a sum of human relations which were poetically and rhetorically heightened, transferred, and adorned, and after long use seem solid, canonical, and binding to a nation. Truths….are coins which have lost their image and now can be used only as metal, and no longer coins.”

“On Truth and Lying in a Moral Sense” Nietzsche, P. 250

 

Standing stones in Bangor, PA (recently set)

Standing stones in Bangor, PA (recently set)

There seems to be a preoccupation with “authenticity” and “truth” within the druid community (and outside of it). Time and time again, people have asked me a lot about the history of the tradition, the “truth” of the druid revival material, the lack of knowledge about the Ancient druids, and how we can be a “legitimate” religious or spiritual tradition. This has come not only from the outside, but also from members of the two druid orders to which I belong, including new folks that start digging into some of the history of the druid revival. Because, as soon as one starts reading on either the ancient druids or revival druids, truth and authenticity seem to be a never-ending focus. For example, from the back cover of The Druids (Ellis, 2005), “Finally, a book that separates fact from mythology, telling us what we can and cannot know about the ancient Druids.” In the same book’s opening pages, Ells says, “The simple truth is that one person’s Druid is another person’s fantasy. The Druids have been conjured in a wide variety of perceptions, as to who they were, what they believed and what they taught, since the sixteenth century” (11).  In 1927, Kendrick writes of the “prodigious amount of rubbish” written on Druids in The Druids: A Study in Celtic Prehistory.  These scholarly sources, of course, have their own bias situated within the realm of what is acceptable scholarly work. However, even within our own druid orders, similar conversations are also being had.

 

The underlying questions seem to be: is this an authentic tradition? Is it true? From where does our truth derive? Is it real, even if some of what we based our practices on is historically suspect or created by our spiritual ancestors? These are very good questions for those who have been practicing druidry to ask, especially concerning the rather “colorful” past that the Druid Revival tradition has had. This questioning typically comes from two sources: first, we have A) so little left of what the Ancient Druids actually did/believed/practiced (less than 12 pages in total, written mostly by the enemies of the druids, the Romans) and B) the Druid Revival itself is, in part, assumed to be based on elaborate “forgeries” and “creative repurposing” from leaders of the early Druid revival (like Iolo Morganwg’s Barddas). Further, the question of authenticity is the basis of one of the larger rifts within the modern druid community in terms of where we base our practices (Celtic Reconstructivism vs. Revival Druidry).  So let’s dig into this a bit today and see how deep this rabbit hole of authenticity really goes.

 

“Authenticity” Challenge 1: On the Changing Nature of Text and Text Ownership

There is little doubt that the history of the Druid Revival is clouded with many inaccuracies, misunderstandings, and downright fraudulent texts. Iolo Morganwg as his contemporaries claimed to be working from ancient lost texts, and in some cases, they certainly were. But as much “ancient knowledge” might be true within their texts, there is also a lot of their own original material (creatively repurposed and or heavily adapted) to fill in the gaps. For a while, it was accepted that much of what Revival Druids believed was a carefully constructed fable perpetrated by Edward Williams (Iolo Morganwg); now, some recent scholarship (such as John Michael Greer’s work on the Coelbren), shows that it might be based on more original material than originally believed.

 

One of the most important issues to understand within Revival Druid tradition is the radically changing definitions of history, accuracy, and plagiarism. In the 20th and 21st centuries, we are very concerned—one might say obsessed—with copyrights and originality.  I’m a writing professor by trade, and I can speak from direct experience at the near obsession our current academic culture has with plagiarism: a plagiarizing student is subject to severe academic sanctions that can, in certain cases, lead to them being permanently expelled or losing tuition money. If I were caught plagiarizing a professional academic publication, I would lose my job and be permanently ostracized from my field. When examining figures like Iolo Morganwg who developed original works based on earlier manuscripts, we often apply the same academic standards, viewing them as frauds or fakes; someone who committed serious crimes against history and accuracy.

 

Druid Wisdom

Druid Wisdom

But a deeper examination of the changing historical ethics at the time they were writing paints a different picture. Copying and creative expansion were used as teaching tools and often considered the highest form of flattery for most of human written history. Consider a work like Virgil’s Aneaead, which is a near-copy of Homer’s Odyssey (and Homer himself was likely several storytellers who based their work on still older works that were passed down from one poet to the next). Despite the “plagiarism”, Virgil’s work is still lauded as a masterpiece in its own right. Even William Shakespeare, considered one of the greatest playwrights, borrowed extensively from previous predecessors and contemporaries for his manuscripts, including his famous Romeo and Juliet. Ronald Hutton in The Druids, writes, “Ancient historians simply did not work according to the same priorities and conventions as their successors in the twentieth century. They were less concerned to establish the exact truth of the past than to propose lessons from it, of utility to present to future readers” (p. 5). In “What is an Author” Foucault (1977) describes the rise of the concept of ownership of a text—this ownership itself as a product of the commodification of goods and the rise of the consumerist society.  In other words, “ownership” of texts in this way has everything to do with the rise of our particularly form of capitalism.  Foucalt demonstrates that before the 18th and 19th centuries when writing was commodified, writing was an act, not a product or thing. Through this Foucault demonstrates that the very idea of “Authorship” and “ownership”—ideas which we so highly prize in our materialistic and post-industrialized world—were nearly non-existent through most of human history.

 

And so, we have a long-held historical and literary tradition of adapting material to suit a common purpose—often with cultural significance.  Hutton demonstrates that much of the renewed interest in the Ancient Druids during the early Druid Revival attached the term druid to all kinds of things.   For example, John Seldon, a politician living in the 14th and 15th centuries said that druids were the foundation for free assembly and the British Parliament while Thomas Caius in the same time period claimed the Druids were the intellectual heirs to Cambridge University (Haycock, 2001).  Obviously none of these things were necessarily true, but they were done as part of a cultural reclaiming act and in a way that was within acceptable bounds at the time.

 

To be clear: I think part of the reason that the Druid Revival materials are “suspect” and treated with disrespect compared to say, Shakespere or Virgil, has everything to do with time. Apparently 156 years is simply not long enough.  Shakespere or Virgil are older, established in the canon, and therefore, not suspect to the same criticism that Iolo Morganwg and his contemporaries are. If Morganwg’s writings were from 1000 years earlier, there would be no suspicion. And because of the long historical and literary tradition present in many ancient texts, it is likely that many sacred texts, from all around the world, were probably created in the same way.  Its just that those mysteries are lost to time in ways that Barddas is not.

 

This is one important lesson for us to take away from the “authenticity” debate–we cannot apply the same standards of scholarship present in the 21st century to the 19th. There is a lot more to Barddas than what has been espoused by academics, that’s for certain.

 

“Authenticity” Challenge 2: On the Industrial Revolution and Changing Ecological Realities

Ducks on the Water at Yellow Creek State Park (PA)

Ducks on the Water at Yellow Creek State Park (PA)

The other piece of this, of course, is the relationship between our spiritual ancestors and the crashing force of the industrial revolution.  Two hundred and fifty years ago, our spiritual ancestors faced a radically changing world: a stable agrarian society, where the common people shared common lands and people made their own homecrafted goods was quickly disappearing. Their society was being quickly replaced by an exploitative society that forced farmers into factories, that filled the skies with pollution and the rivers with poison, that undermined traditional ways of life, and that pillaged the natural world for raw materials. Of course, our spiritual ancestors looked to their own past histories, drawing deeply from what materials remained, to offer some alternative perspectives to what was unfolding before them.

 

I come at this particular issue from a place of deep compassion and understanding, as I, too, live in a region, a culture, and a civilization that continued to perpetuate the myth of progress, and whose ultimate aims are profit and exploitation. I wonder what any one of us would have done during that era—and I am grateful for the work that these spiritual pioneers did so that today, I have the tools and knowledge to thrive in these difficult times, to connect with the living earth, and to heal and regenerate the land becuase they paved the way for it..

 

Reclaiming our History and Honoring Our Ancestors of the Druid Revival Tradition

 

At this point, I’ve offered two key arguments that help us shift our understanding of the origins of the druid revival. First, that Morganwg and his contemporaries that helped found the Druid Revival tradition were working under very different cultural and scholarly values and that it isn’t appropriate to hold them to our standards of today. Second, Morganwig and his contemporaries were responding to the beginning of an ecological and social crisis (of which we are now experiencing the final act). If we accept these two arguments, the question now is, what do we do with this information? I see at least three pathways forward: reclaiming our history and honoring the ancestors, recognizing druidry as a “living tradition”, and reframing authenticity as direct experience.  We’ll now explore each of these in the second half of this post.

 

From a matter of historical accuracy, we have challenges to the legitimacy and authority of our tradition from outside of our community. For example, Ellis (2005) writes of the present Druid revival with disdain, “With the onset of the 1960’s ‘Hippies’ and ‘Alternative Religions’ the Druids were fair game again” (277). Ellis is quick to dismiss current Druidic spirituality as a “quick fix on spirituality; because people, in the quest for truth and meaning in life, which seems the perennial human drive, prefer simple answers. It is easier to accept the cozy pictures of non-existent romantic Celts and Druids rather than ponder the uncomfortable realities.” (280).  Clearly, Ellis has not dug very deeply in our own rich traditions as a teaching order to understand the kinds of work that a modern Druid does. Druidry is not a passive spiritual path but rather one in which druids must engage both the difficult questions surrounding our colorful past and the ecological and spiritual realities of the present. I think that these kinds of perspectives and challenges will likely always be with us—but these are no different than the same kinds of challenges faced by other religious traditions.

 

Honoring our Ancestors

Calling in our Ancestors

Calling in our Ancestors

However, to address external challenges to our own legitimacy, I believe we first must begin in hearts and minds of those of us who are the spiritual descendants of the Druid Revival. I think, at the outset, we need to seek peace with our history and our ancestors. We might begin to honor those founders of the Druid Revival tradition as ancestors—for that very much is what they are. It is highly likely that, without Morganwg’s work, we might not have a modern Druid spiritual tradition in any sense of the world. Morganwg, Stuckley, and their contemporaries were pioneering spirits whose work and inspiration continues within our tradition. Each time we invoke “Awen” or say the druid’s prayer, or draw upon the three currents or declare peace in the quarters—these basic practices are rooted in their works. We can’t use these, in good faith, while attacking and holding in disregard those who helped bring us these practices.  So within our communities and druid orders, I believe it is important to begin to honor them with the due respect given to any other ancestor.

 

Recognizing Druidry as a Living Tradition

A number of years ago, I was able to attend a workshop with Penny Billington, who published Paths of Druidry and runs OBOD’s magazine, Touchstone. When asked about the colorful history of the druid revival, she gave one of the best answers I had ever heard. She said that we were lucky, as druids, to not have any ancient sacred texts holding us back. She said that druidry is a living tradition that we are co-constructing, and as such, it could adapt to the rapidly changing world. Nature is our text and our greatest teacher. And so, we co-create this tradition as we grow, both as individuals, but also as druid orders and as participants in the broader movement of reconnecting with the earth.

 

I have found a lot of peace in Penny Billington’s statement. When people ask me things like “Well, how old is druidry anyways?” I know it’s often an underlying challenge to the authenticity of this path. But, as I’ve meditated on her statement over a period of years, I think it holds tremendous value and also tremendous wisdom.

 

While other traditions struggle to address and interpret ancient texts in a very different day and age, our tradition is on the forefront of adapting. In AODA, for example, we recognize that nature-based spiritual practice is not only rooted in the rituals and energetic work, but also, in our own connection and path to walk more lightly and kindly upon the living earth.  This is not something a text of 1000 years ago gave us.  It’s something that we know to be inherently true when we look outside of our window or read the news—we know if we are to align with the living earth spiritually, especially in these times, we must also change our physical actions. This is something that even 75 or 100 years ago was not as painfully obvious as it is today, with the rise of climate science and the harsh ecological realities that we experience.

 

Druidry is helping us lay the groundwork for what is to come if the human race is to survive, both personally but also culturally.  We are rediscovering ancient ways of knowing, living, and doing in the world.  Nature teaches us this through her own rhythms, cycles, and truths.  Our ancient ancestors around the globe learned all they needed to know from observing and interacting with the living earth on a constant basis: and as we return to these same practices, we uncover wisdom lost with the eradication of indigenous wisdom around the globe.  It might turn up in a different form, but it will turn up again—because we are getting it the same way our ancestors got it—from the sacred book of nature.

 

Our tradition has room to grow, to adapt, to change—just like nature herself.  By learning from nature, by heeding her voice, we are putting ourselves, and by example, others, on a more earth-centered path.

 

The Path of Druidry

The Path of Druidry

Of course, there may be a lingering discomfort may be present with the idea that we can create a personally valid and meaningful practice that works for us and that isn’t based on millennia of religious understanding or a holy book. That one can, essentially, call upon nature’s divine inspiration and craft something that works. The question, to me, isn’t whether or not 2000+ years of previous human history validates my practice—the question for me is, “Does it work? Is it meaningful?” To me, it doesn’t matter that some of it is rooted in Iolo’s writings, in the insights and practices of others, and in our own adaptations and understandings.  If you are one of those folks who feel this way, consider this: we are working from ancient understandings, even if those understandings are fragmented. We are also working from a 300 year old tradition that has grown, evolved, and is stronger today perhaps than ever before.

 

Reframing Authenticity through Experience

Directly stemming from the acknowledgement of druidry as a living tradition that adapts much like nature herself, one more critical piece seems to be at play in the discussion of authenticity, and that is the role of direct experience, personal knowing, intuition, and heart-centered experiences.

 

The idea of “certainty” (and to some degree, “authenticity”), stems in part from the rise of what is known as “modernism”: a philosophy rooted in rationalism and the development of the scientific method. It was through the rise of modernism and the industrial revolution that we moved from a “heart centered” to a “head centered” culture.  Modernism displaced the idea that core of the human was in feeling, experience, emotion–centered in the heart (this has been discussed through various; one of my favorite treatments of the topic is in the opening Stephen Harrod Buhner’s Plant spirit medicine). In a head centered/rational culture, we live with the not-always conscious assumptions that what is certain or authentic is what can be empirically validated, measured, or assessed.

 

Some of druidry’s core practices and practitioner experiences don’t fit within these head-centered boundaries. They are in the realm of personal experience, emotional knowing, intuition, and inner experience; they are in the realm of the heart. I can’t empirically validate many of my experiences as a druid, but that doesn’t make them any less meaningful. It seems, perhaps, that a different worldview and basic set of assumptions would better serve us—and simply acknowledging that one can exist and helping us get into the framework for it, would be beneficial. A worldview where scientific knowledge of the natural world (which is useful and wonderful) lives side-by-side with experiential ways of knowing, and that each of these have relevancy and power in our tradition.

 

I also want to note here: I teach masters and doctoral courses in social science and educational research methods as part of my profession. I am also well published learning researcher. It is because of this expertise that I know how very inappropriate the scientific method is for the work of inner spiritual life. There are questions that empirical researchers can answer, through observation and interaction with the physical reality.  And, there are questions that are unanswerable with these methods because they occur on a meta-physical (beyond physical) reality where the scientific method cannot reach. Most deep spiritual truths fall into the realm of unanswerable questions—and that is why it is in the realm of spiritual understanding, rather than historical or scientific, that I seek my own inner truth. We seem to forget, as a society, that there is more than one way of creating knowledge. Recognizing these multiple ways of making meaning, and balancing these ways, are critical for the development of a fulfilled spiritual life. And so, while as a professional, I embrace the scientific method as the meaning-making and knowledge-building tools that they are, I firmly reject them as the basis for my inner spiritual life and my tradition.

 

Conclusion

In the end, the questions I ask about the druid tradition aren’t about if it is authentic or real.  I don’t really care. In all honesty, that’s not the metric through which I’m measuring the effectiveness of this tradition. What I want to know is if the tradition “works” for me and others along this path.  And the answer has been resoundingly clear to me: druidry is a living spiritual tradition that “works.” If it didn’t work and it wasn’t meaningful, we wouldn’t have so many people seeking it out, going against the grain of the broader religious and cultural traditions, and continuing to persevere with it.  To me, that is the measure of authenticity.

 

Revival Druidry, as a phenomenon and as the forebears to the AODA, OBOD, and other Druid organizations, has much to teach us and how issues surrounding “truth” can, in themselves, be a source of inspiration and education. As druids might consider treating our knowledge of the Druid Revival (and Ancient Druids) in the same manner that we treat the many fables, tales, and stories.  It is not the “truth” that we cannot possibly know for certain that is important. Rather, the Druid Revival provides us with something more valuable than a simple historical fact or empirical reality—they provide us with a rich history and framework, and that history can today be used for teaching and reflection.  And like all great works, the story changes as the tale is told.  It morphs into what is necessary for that era and time. Our druid revival predecessors offered us much in the way of their own wisdom, their own truths—and we can honor them as the rightful ancestors that they are. They also left much up to us, to find our own way in our living tradition, seeking direct wisdom and experience form the living earth.

 

References

Ells, P. B. (2005). A Brief History of the Druids. New York: Caroll & Graf Publishers.

Foucault (1977).  “What is an Author?”  Found: http://www.scribd.com/doc/10268982/Foucault-What-is-an-Author

Haycock, D. B. William Stukeley: Science, Religion and Archaeology in Eighteenth-Century England

Hutton, R. (2007). The Druids. London: Hambledon Coniunuum.

Kendrick (1927). The Druids: A Study in Celtic Prehistory

Nichols, R. (1992).   The Book of Druidry.  2nd edition.  New York: Thorsons.

Nietzsche (1873). “On Truth and Lying in an Extra-Moral Sense” (1873)

Connection as the Core Spiritual Philosophy in the Druid Tradition

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

 

Seeds for new traditions!

Seeds for new traditions!

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

 

Sources of Inspiration

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

 

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

 

On the Druid Revival

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Overall Druid Philosophy: The Power of Connection

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

 

Interacting with nature, learning the plants

Interacting with nature, learning the plants

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

 

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

 

Connecting to Nature

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A simple awen painting I did a while ago

A simple awen painting I did a while ago

Connecting with One’s Creativity and the Flow of Awen

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

 

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

 

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

 

Connecting to Individual Truths and a Personal Path

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

A Triad of Druidry

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

Three philosophies of druidry:

Connecting to nature

Connecting to our creative gifts

Connecting to our souls

 

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

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