The Druid's Garden

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

Sacred Tree Profile: Black Locust’s Medicine, Magic, Mythology and Meanings November 10, 2019

Black locust in bloom

Black Locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) is a spiny, scraggly tree that is found abundantly along the US East Coast. Very little is written about this tree from a magical or mythological perspective, although certainly, anyone who works wood or practices permaculture is aware of the more tangible benefits this tree provides. In today’s post, we explore this amazing tree and start building some more specific magical knowledge to incorporate this tree into local druidic or nature-spirituality practices.

 

My parents’ land in Western PA, land where I grew up, consisted primarily of old potato fields.  We had two sets of tree lines where the farmers had let the trees grow; these lines were full of huge cherry and maple trees grew.  In between those tree lines as the land sloped down the mountain were open areas populated with blackberry bushes, hawthorn, and black locusts–several acres of them. These locust trees, rising bare and spindly out of the earth, often looked like skeletons–they would usually wait to put their leaves on well after the rest of the trees had gone green in the spring.  They would also be the first to drop their leaves, sometimes as early as mid-September, while the rest of the trees would wait till near Samhain. It was if they didn’t enjoy the light half of the year and preferred the darkness of winter.  As younger trees, they have pretty amazing wicked thorns (thorns similar to blackberry or raspberry thorns, rather than hawthorn-style thorns).  These are thorns that catch, snag, and hold fast.

 

I’ve always known these trees to be powerful magical allies with a particularly strong energy–and yet, almost nothing is ever written about them.  Needless to say, growing up among the locusts has given me a unique perspective on these amazing trees and I recognize them for the magic they hold. This post is a part of my Sacred Trees in the Americas series, which is my long-running series where I focus on trees that are dominant along the Eastern US, including in Western PA, where I live.  Previous trees in this series have included: Chestnut, Cherry, Juniper, Birch, Elder, Walnut, Eastern White Cedar, Hemlock, Sugar Maple, Hawthorn, Hickory, Beech, Ash, White Pine, and Oak.

 

Black Locust: Identification and Ecology

Black Locust in Winter

Black locust is a distinctive tree–it has compound leaves that are between 6-12″ long.  Each compound leaf has pairs of leaflets that are oval in shape.  The younger branches and stems often have two sharp thorns at the base as well as thorns going up the smaller branches.  Larger branches often jut out in odd directions and grow at odd angles, giving the tree its distinctive appearance.  As the trees mature, thick gray-brown bark with thick ridges grows.  The wood itself is a brown-gray with distinctive rings and it is very dense and heavy.

 

The black locusts growing at my parents’ land were growing, in part, because it is a tree that helps regenerate damaged ecosystems. My parents’ home was built on what was once old potato fields. After decades of growing potatoes, the soil was nutrient-poor and full of rocks and clay.  Not all trees thrive in such an ecosystem, and this is part of why the black locusts came.  Black locusts are trees that regenerate damaged soils–as they fix nitrogen, they often can be an early part of ecological succession to help repair damaged soils and serve as a pioneering species in that regard.

 

Black Locust is not tolerant of shade, and thus, prefers to grow in areas with plenty of sun including old fields, disturbed sites, and wastelands.  It prefers a limestone-rich soil but otherwise can adapt to many other soil conditions.  It is an early species–as other species grow up and as ecological succession continues, it dies back and makes way for other species.

 

Black locusts are native to part of the Appalachian mountains and parts of Iowa, stretching from Western PA to the top of Alabama, but has been widely planted beyond that smallish range.  Partially, it is planted because its wood is extremely useful as it is heavy, durable, strong, and rot-resistant.  But partially, it is planted because of its a great regenerator of poor soils.

 

Apparently now in places in the US, it is considered an “invasive” species.  But since many of you know my thoughts on that term, I find this label pretty unfortunate.  As the link in the first sentence suggests, Black locust is a first aid tree–it is adaptable, deals well with disruption and disrupted soil, has a tolerance for pollution and industrial waste–sounds like a pretty darn badass first aid responder tree to me!  It is unfortunate that so many responder plants get such a reputation.

 

Wood and Uses

A really nice history of the black locust tree at the Live Science website explains how Black Locust is the hardest of our timber woods here in North America, including describing evidence that the Native Americans living in the mountains may have exported black locust to the coastal areas and that black locust was thus a valuable trade item.  This is likely because Black Locust can resist rot for up to 100 years, making it an amazing building material!  Native Americans also made many of their bows from Black Locust due to its strength. As Eric Sloane discusses in a Reverence of wood, Black Locust was well known in colonial times.  Philadelphia, as a planned city, had an important street named after the Black Locust.  It was exported very early in colonialization, starting in 1640. In 1686, Captain William Fitzhugh of wrote that the locust as “as durable as most brick walls.”  (p. 57, Plants of Colonial Days by Raymond Taylor).  These early wood exports (like Black Locust and Sassafrass) were exported because of their usefulness and uniqueness–think about how much value a wood had to be loaded on a ship and sent back to the old world.  Black locust was one of the early exports, which really shows its value for a range of applications.

 

And today, Black Locus is still an extremely useful wood, finding a niche in any projects that call for strength, density, and rot resistance. Traditionally, it has been used for everything from houses to railroad ties and telephone poles to tool handles and mine props.  It is very useful to line garden beds because it almost never rots. Because it is rot-resistant, it is also used for fence posting and building projects. As Eric Sloane discusses, it was also a frequent material in living hedges and fencing material due to its thorns.

 

Black Locust tree with Crow Nest

Another historical fact shared from the Live Science article–it is likely that Black locust pins, holding the American Ships together, helped win the war of 1812. These pins, stronger than those oak pins of the British fleet, allowed the American ships to withstand more cannonball damage than the British ships, leading to victory.  In this way, the strength of the Black Locust was directly pitted against the strength of the oak–and the Black Locust was the victor.

 

Edible and Incredible Black Locust Flowers

For about two weeks a year, the black locust radically transforms from its usual spindly and scraggy self to a carpet of beautiful and fragrant blossoms.  These cascades of white flowers with little yellow centers–they look a lot like a pea (and locusts are related to the legume family, so this makes sense). These delightful sprigs of flowers can often be harvested with abandon, and you can harvest as much of them as you can reach!

 

Due to their abundance, I’ve made a lot of things from these flowers, but the best, by far is a black locust flower fritter. Pick flowers that are still yellow in the center (if they are going brown, it means they are past their prime). Make a simple fritter batter (1 cup flour, 1/2 cup milk, 1 tbsp sugar, 1 teaspoon baking powder, 2 eggs) and fry them for 3-4 minutes.  I prefer frying them in coconut oil, which really enhances their flavor.  The fritters are done when they are golden brown.  Sprinkle with some cinnamon and powdered sugar for even more tasty goodness.  I’ll also note that, in Nature’s Harvest, Sam Thayer writes that we don’t know how to treat flowers in a culinary sense since we don’t really have them widely used in our cooking in North America.  But locust flowers can be treated like any other vegetable.  He uses them in salads, vegetables in soups, green salads, fruit salads, stir-fries, and more.

 

I’ve also made pancakes from them (treating them like blueberries in pancakes) and also tried brewing them as a tea.  Given the fragrant nature of these flowers, you’d expect the tea to be good, but really, it just isn’t.  It has a bad taste, so I wouldn’t drink it. The pancakes are fun, however, and a nice seasonal treat!  You can also eat the flowers fresh from the tree.

 

The beans are also edible, but they are so tiny, you have to be really dedicated to getting any kind of meal from them.  I’ve tried and have collected a small handful of beans here and there, and when I throw them into a soup or something, they totally disappear.  So probably not the best wild food out there, but the flowers more than makeup for it.

 

Black Locust Blossom Close-Up

It’s important to note that beyond the flowers and the beans themselves, everything else on the black locust is toxic, including the bean pods and leaves.  A poisonous glycoside called “robitin” is contained within the bark, leaves, roots, and wood, which is toxic to us as well as animals.

 

Magic and Herbal Qualities from the Western Tradition

This is where things start getting quite thin. Most of my normal reference books for herbalism (Wood, Culpepper, Grieve, Gerard, Gladstar) and magic (Greer, Yronwoode, etc) say literally nothing about black locust.  It is a new world tree, and many of the older herbal books are based on old-world plants–new world plants and trees often get no notice (hence, my entire point of this series).

 

Books aside, a few herbalists list some information on their websites about Black Locust.  For example, the Plants for a Future entry seems to confuse the black locust with the honey locust, talking about edible pulp (which is not a feature of the black locust).  Henriette’s herbal suggests that the bark was used as a violent emetic (since it’s so toxic, yes, it would make you vomit violently!)  It also lists the flowers as potentially anti-spasmodic, but I haven’t found that information in any other source.

 

That is, as far as I can tell, there is virtually nothing on the magical qualities of the Black Locust from a western perspective.

 

Native American Herbalism and Lore

Since this was a tree growing in the native range of North America, many tribes did have interactions with it, and I found a small amount of lore and stories surrounding it. Unfortunately, a lot of the tribes that would have interacted with this tree were forcefully removed and/or slaughtered–and much of their knowledge of this tree likely died with them.  Here are two useful references:

 

From Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees (1891) by James Moody,  Moody translates a discussion and a commentary on a particular kind of occult disease (or curse, perhaps). One of the ways this curse can manifest is by a maleficent person putting a sharpened stick of black locust into someone’s skin; if it is not removed the person may die.

 

In a second Cherokee story, the black locust is used to help a deer sharpen his teeth so that they aren’t as blunt (referring, likely, to the strength of the black locust wood).

 

Magic of the Black Locust

My story that opened this piece shared what I consider to be three of black locust’s most important features:  some of the most strong, rot-resistant, and durable wood we have, regenerative qualities that help heal damaged ecosystems; and the skeletal nature of these trees’ growth cycle. To summarize my findings, I’d like to put forth the following magical and divination qualities for the black locust:

 

Black Locusts in Early Spring

Ultimate strength and endurance.  Black locust is beyond strong and endures beyond any other tree, particularly in death. It is rot-resistant, literally lasting 100 or more years, even when sunk into the earth.  That beats most chemically treated woods, making it a tree that is ultimately connected to endurance, strength, and power.

 

Death and Life. If we look at the contrast of this tree ecologically, it offers us a rich interpretation of the interconnection between life and death.  Here is a tree that looks like a skeleton, and spends more time being bare than covered in leaves.  And yet, it offers the landscape healing through nitrogen-fixing and regenerative qualities, working to quickly transform damaged landscapes.

 

Shadow and Underworld Work.  Moving from the second point, I think this tree may help the living connect with the dead, and hence, can be a bridge to shadow work, underworld work, and work with the dying/decay energies of this time of year. The Skeletal nature of this tree, combined with its poison, and its short blooming time, really speaks to me of an underworld connection.  This is a tree one can use to connect with the energies of the underworld, particularly at Samhain and the Winter Solstice, and use those energies for their own kind of shadow work.

 

What a tree indeed!  Readers, do you have any additional information or stories on Black Locust to share?

 

A Druid’s Primer on Land Healing, Part III: Understanding “Energy” and the Three Currents February 26, 2016

An unfinished painting of mine detailing the three currents running through a tree

An in-progress painting of mine detailing the three currents running through a tree

This is the third post in my “Druid’s Primer on Land Healing.” The first two posts explored a framework for land healing, including physical and energetic approaches (in part I) and exploring the difference between “healing” and energetic alliterative care (part II). Now that we have some idea of the work ahead of us in terms of energetic land healing, and have fully explored the word “heal” and its various permutations, we’ll turn to the other term we are talking about, which is “energetic.” If we are going to work with “energy” to heal the land, its a good idea to know what energy we are talking about.  So, today’s post is the underlying energetic framework upon which the specific rituals and suggestions I’ll describe in upcoming posts are based: the three currents.

 

Understanding “energy”

The challenge with a lot of rituals and sacred activities that you find published today is that they may often give you the script to do the ritual, but not the underlying philosophies behind the ritual. You hear these nebulous statements like “I’m going to raise good energy for my garden” but you aren’t really sure more than that. What is the energy you are raising?  Where is it coming from and where is it going?  Why are you “raising” it? I think the work can be done intuitively, to some extent, but the lack of knowledge can be problematic in the sense that it prevents us from crafting and working with specific energies present and conceptualized.

 

The Three Currents

Understandings and concepts about the energy of the heavens and the earth, and the interaction between, are ancient.  Because I’m a druid working in the Druid Revival tradition, I’m drawing material from that tradition, specifically, theories present in the Ancient Order of Druids in America (AODA) with some additions of my own insights and experiences. And although the names and specific principles I’m presenting here are rooted in the Druid Revival, the concepts go much further back–Pennick and Devereux’s Lines Upon the Landscape’s final chapter, for example, details specific work with what we would call the Solar and Telluric currents connected to are  many ancient sites.  In terms of source material for this post, a great source for more information on the three currents can be found in two of John Michael Greer’s books: The Druidry Handbook and the Druid Magic Handbook.  In fact, a great deal of my discussion here is based on material JMG presents in the Druid Magic Handbook with my own additions and understandings as well as synthesis with other sources. And with that, let’s take a look at the currents.

 

Understanding “Energy”

When we say “energy” or “raising good energy” or “bringing down good energy”  what exactly do we mean? We’ll get to the “raising” or “bringing down” parts in a minute—but let’s start with the energy itself.  What we (usually) mean here is energy in the magical sense: the divine spark, the energy of life, the spirit in things, the creative inspiration flowing through all living beings—what we druids call nywfre (Noo-IV-ruh); this was described in my recent post. Other traditions have different names for nwyfre, including qi/ch’I (Chinese), ki (Japanese), prana (Hindu Yoga), ankh (ancient Egyptian) or the secret fire (Alchemy) (a more complete list can be found in JMG’s Druid Magic Handbook).  Nywfre isn’t the only kind of energy out there, but it is the kind of energy we likely want to be working with for healing purposes.  So I’m keeping my discussion focused primarily on that for today.

 

So this nywfre, this concept of energy, is found in many, many, many traditions throughout the world. Its interesting that mainstream American culture does not have a word for this term and so we end up using other terms that aren’t quite it, like “energy” or “lifeforce.” Most cultures recognize this nywfre (in whatever name) as a fundamental part of being human and inhabiting the world, and they recognize the need to work with it in various ways both within and without. Its only mainstream western culture that pretends such a thing doesn’t exist. We can see this ignorance reflected in the dominant theories of medicine in the west (compared to say, Chinese Traditional Medicine or Ayurveda).

 

This energy does not manifest out of nothing—instead, it comes from two primary sources: the the light within the heavens (the solar current), the light within the earth (the lunar current), and the synthesis of the two. And this has a real biological equivalent–the sun shines down, gives plants light and energy, which is stored. The plants grow from the rich earth with her nutrients and nourishment. We eat the plants, or the animals that eat them, and that sustains us. There’s a lot more to it than that, so let’s dig a bit deeper.

 

The solar current rising at sunrise

The solar current rising at sunrise

The Solar Current

The Solar current derives from the energy at the heart of the sun, radiating through space, and down to the earth. Solar energy, being directly tied to the sun, changes based on the position of the sun in the sky on a daily basis (energy is different at noon than it is at dusk, dawn, or midnight). It also changes based on where the sun is in the wheel of the year (the energy of the sun is different on June 21st, the summer solstice, than it is at the Fall Equinox in September or the Winter Solstice on Dec 21st.) Druids and other earth-based spiritual practitioners know this today, of course, and celebrate accordingly.  And yet, this is very ancient knowledge.  The position of the other planets in the solar system also matter–Greer notes that other planets in the solar system directly reflect the energy of the sun, so astrological influences can help us understand the current manifestation of the solar current at various present moments.  This is all to say that the solar energy is ever powerful, and ever changing, in our lives.

 

The solar current is magically associated with things in the sky: the heavens and birds: hawks, eagles, or herons—I found jays to be quite strong with regards to this current when I lived in Michigan. My rooster, Anasazi, was also able to work this current with incredible effectiveness—he was an extremely solar bird, calling up the sun each day, and held much power while the sun was out!   Additionally, certain plants also can draw and radiate solar energy quote effectively—Dandelion (dominant in the spring); St. John’s Wort (dominant in at midsummer), and goldenrod (dominant in the fall) are three such plants. You may recall my discussion of dandelions a few years back and how they summon the light back into the land in early spring. Sunflowers and sunchokes are other good choices as solar plants—the names themselves demonstrate their solar connection. A good magical herbal will describe all plants that are connected with the sun (look for one that covers astrology–even Culpepper’s herbal will do this). I will say this now and follow-up on it in my upcoming blog posts—we can use these plants, these solar plants, when we need to light up dark places (energetically) and focus the solar current’s healing light.  Spreading the seeds of these plants is a delightful way of doing physical land healing work.  Bees too, are strongly connected to the light of the sun–their bodies themselves reflect its coloring and light.

 

The solar current is “symbolically masculine” meaning that it embodies the principle of projection. This project quality helps us manifest action in the world: what accomplish, what we want to do, projects and activities—this is when we project our energy out into the world for projects, activities, healing, leadership, and more.  JMG indicates that the solar current may also be referred to as “aud” or “od” in magical writings or simply “the sun” in alchemy. It is also known as the “current of knowledge.”

 

We can see the solar current manifested differently in the world’s religions—Christianity, for example, is a very solar focused tradition (a quick image search of Jesus or Angels visually confirms this: the rays of heaven, god’s light shining down, even the halo of light around saint’s or Jesus’ head, and so on). In this tradition, the ultimate goal is to ascend away from the earth and into to heaven—a very solar focus. Another very solar tradition is the Golden Dawn, reflected in every aspect of ritual, including the name. Buddhism, likewise, focuses on achieving “higher levels” of consciousness and being—these are all solar in nature. Pretty much anytime that you hear things about ascension, the light of the sun, and so on, that’s the solar energy being connected to and being drawn upon. Part of the allure of these traditions, in some cases, is the idea of escapism—since the material earth is problematic and imperfect, we can ascend and go to more perfect realms. The problem with some of this thinking is that it separates the living earth from all things sacred or holy—I firmly believe that part of the reason that such pillaging of the planet is happening is because of the emphasis in dominant world religions on solar energy as the only sacred and meaningful energy.  The earth, then, is seen only as a resource worth taking from.

 

Sun at sunset

Sun at sunset

In humans, the solar current expresses itself by associations with the higher regions of the human body: a quest for knowledge, our reason, our imaginations, our will, our language and ability to abstract, our consciousness, our logic and so on. The solar is associated with the entire upper part of our bodies—particularly the chest, shoulders, and hands (hands as those are what manifest and work). Unbalanced solar energy in humans likewise typically in the higher parts of the human (the brain, the ego, etc.) with issues of puffed up egos, pride, being too rooted in one’s head, overly logical or disconnected, cults of personality, and the like. And of course, the words “higher” and “upper” have those “elevated” meanings–so the emphasis, and privileging of the solar currents are built into the very language we use ourselves.

 

The Telluric Current

The second current, the Telluric current, derives from the energy at the heart of the earth. The telluric current’s name comes from “Tellus,” a name for the ancient Roman goddess of the earth. She was also known as “terra mater” or Mother earth; later, this was a word in Latin “telluric” meaning “land, territory or earth.” These ancient connections, then, are present in the name itself, where the currents of the land, and the deity that represented such currents, were worshiped (a tradition found in many traditional cultures around the world).

 

This telluric energy starts at the center of the earth and rises up, through the layers of the stone and molten flows, through the groundwater and underwater aquifers, through the minerals and layers of fossils, and into the crust of the earth. It takes its shape from what is on the surface: plants, trees, roads, rivers, valleys, rivers, and so on. As JMG notes, it is powerfully affected by underground sources of water (aquifers); springs and wells that come up from the land have very strong concentrations of telluric energy. This helps explain both why sacred wells, throughout the ages, have been such an important part of spiritual traditions in many parts of the world–and why its so energizing to drink their water. This also explains why fracking, that which taints the underground waters themselves, is so horrifically bad from an energetic perspective and why understanding these currents is so useful for healing work.

 

As RJ Stewart notes in Earthlight, it is from the currents of the earth that the nutrients flow from the living earth into our bodies, regenerating them. It is from the telluric that you can find the light of transformation and regeneration. The telluric represents the dark places in the world, the energy found in caves and deep in the depths of our souls. The telluric enegy sometimes is about confronting the shadows within ourselves and realizing that those are part of us too. It is about lived experience—the act of being—rather than rationalizing and talking about. In Lines Upon the Landscape, Pennick and Devereux sum this up nicely when they write, “For us, the sense of traveling through a dark and elemental landscape, pregnant with magical and spiritual forces, is no longer experienced. We have separated ourselves from the land and live within our own abstractions” (246).  Take a minute to think about the word “dark” – in modern Western culture, it is immediately associated with evil (showing our strong solar bias).  But darkness can be a place of rest, of quietude, of inner learning and knowing.  It is as natural to this world as is the sun, and its wise to remember this!

 

Roots--strong in the telluric current

Roots–strong in the telluric current

As JMG suggests, the telluric current is symbolically feminine and is frequently represented by a snake or dragon (I’ve also personally seen it represented by other land dwelling creatures, such as salamanders, mice, or moles.) The telluric is the receptive principle, meaning that it is what comes to us, rather than what we go out and get—partially, receptivity can be seen as passive, but it can also be allowing your fate or experiences to be in the hand of another.  I’m sure all of us at points in our lives have had to just “go with the flow” rather than take control of a situation or life experience—that’s receptivity. JMG suggests the name for the telluric current is the “current of power” and its names in magical lore include “the dragon current” the “aub” or “ob” and the “secret fire.” It is about the hidden realms, those within us, and represented well in the tarot cards of both the High Priestess and the Empress.

 

There are fewer traditions that work primarily with the telluric currents—OBOD Druidry is one of them, with its emphasis on the light body exercise as a primary working (bringing the light of the earth up for cleansing and blessing). I’ll note that this is my own assessment of the OBOD work; I’m not sure that OBOD specifies it as such anywhere in the curriculum, but certainly that’s how we can classify its primary practice (and I’ll note with a caveat that its been a while since I finished the Druid grade!)  Another tradition that is fully telluric is work in the Underworld tradition (see R. J. Stewart’s line of books as an example). Many forms of shamanism, where the practitioner is going down into the depths of the earth or their own consciousness to seek allies and assistance is also telluric in nature. These traditions are frequently concerned with transforming the here and now, and seeing the earth as sacred, understanding the sacred soil upon which life depends. As R. J. Stewart suggests in his book Earthlight, “The Underworld tradition affirms that universal wisdom and regeneration are not found exclusively in heavily or ethereal dimensions, but also in the heart of the sacred land, the planet, within our mother earth. It also affirms that we are all, individually and collectively, responsible for the planet, and that in transforming ourselves we transform the world.”  (16).

 

In human beings, the telluric current is associated with the “lower” portions—and as JMG notes, these lower portions are not bad, they are as much a part of us as anything else: the belly, the hips, and the feet and the entire lower half of the human body—especially the womb. Human experiences associated with the telluric include passion, love, sexuality, and power. Unbalanced telluric energy usually shows up in its lower forms in humans, like hedonistic behavior, substance abuse, and so on.  If we think about the strong influence of Christianity (with its Solar-dominant practices), and the telluric current’s emphasis on worldly pleasures and sensuality, we can see why the Telluric current has such a bad rap.

 

Awakening the Lunar Current

Interplay of light and darkness on the landscape of Western PA

Interplay of light and darkness on the landscape of Western PA

A third current can be created by consciously bringing the solar current and the telluric current together—and this is the lunar current. I’ll quote JMG here, “When the lunar current awakens in an individual, it awakens the inner sense and unfolds into enlightenment. When it awakens in the land, it brings healing, fertility, and plenty” (p. 30). Magical lore, too, discusses this current as “aur” or “or” and it’s symbol is the crescent moon as well as the sacred cup/grail, the egg, the jewel (including in the Joseph Conrad sense), and the child.  This, of course, is where our idea of Nwyfre comes in–in at least one sense, nywfre flows through the awakening of this third current, the alchemical synthesis of the other two.

 

The lunar current also helps us resolve the binary created by the telluric and solar currents—it shows us that unification is possible and art of awakening the lunar current can be part of our healing arts in magical practice.  A lot of sacred rituals healing the land can be most effective in awakening this current–and we’ll explore those in more depth in upcoming posts, now that I have this groundwork laid.

 

A way to think about the lunar current being awakened within each human is from a teaching shared by my herbalism teacher and friend, Jim McDonald. Each human being can be seen like a light bulb (not one of those new compact fluorescent ones, but the older ones with the filaments, the ones that were common for decades in the US until recently). We all have our own inner light, the light of our souls. That light radiates outward in the form of the gifts we give the world, the good work we do, the love we share with others and the land. However, in daily living in industrialized society, through the experience of pain or carrying heavy burdens, our lightbulb gets dirty, clouded, splashed with the grease and grime. It’s the sorrow in our lives, it’s the grime of industrialization, the weight of everyday living, that dulls that lightbulb, sometimes, fully obscuring our light. Some people have their lightbulb so covered, its like they had the bulb dipped in black paint. We can use various meditation techniques, ritual, and herbs (like hawthorn, the plant Jim was sharing about in this particular “lightbulb” teaching) to clear the gunk off of our lightbulbs and bring light and healing back into our lives with the unification and awakening of the currents.

 

We can see ancient humans’ deep knowledge of the currents and their interaction reflected in the ancient ley lines upon the landscape—for example in Cuzco, Peru, which means “navel of the earth” had at its center, the Inca Temple of the Sun.  It was here that the Coricancha (the emperor) sat at the heart of the temple; radiating the light of the sun outward from this temple like a sunburst was a large web of straight lines reaching into the countryside (Pennick and Devereux, 251). On the other side of the world, we see the same principles at play in China, where the Chinese emperor sat on his throne in the center of the Imperial Palace (the “Purple Forbidden City”), centered on the imperial road and with gates leading outward to the four directions (Pennick and Devereux, 251). In these, and in other ancient civilizations, the rulers, associated with the sun or considering themselves as “sun gods” or “sons of heaven” radiated via these “transmission lines” to bring the solar energy down and radiate it outward to bless the manifestation of the telluric. The sun’s light, after all, does travel in a straight line. It was this king who unified these currents for the bounty and health of the land.

 

Knowledge of the currents, and practice working with them, are some of the first steps to doing powerful transformations within and without and engaging in the land healing work I am talking about in this series of posts.  We’ll continue to work with them over the next few posts, and think about how this understanding can be manifested in our inner and outer lives. Until then, I encourage readers to consider these concepts in meditation and reflection!