Days of Note: Flamekeeping, Fourth of July/"Independence Day"
Sun: cancer (cardinal water), 5:55 AM - 8:54 PM
Moon: waxing crescent, virgo (mutable earth)
Earth: hot and muggy most of the day, occasional shower, then about an hour before sunset, a huge storm with thunder, lightning and hail - now, after dark, fireworks
My flamekeeping shift is soon coming to an end. I've spent most of today working on my response post (first of three parts) to my experiences and observations at the Wild Goose Festival back at the end of June - and trying very hard to ignore what day it is. But how could I think She would let me ignore it.
A storm blew through about an hour ago, with thunder and massive rain that gave way to the pounding of hail (and for the first time, I had the strange experience of fearing for my garden, as though I could imagine myself responsible for the plump little lives that sprung from hard-shelled seeds I did barely more than drop into the soil and encourage with hopeful glances and some occasional weeding). Now the sky to the west is suffused with rose and gold as the storm blows east to lap against the mountains. Jeff had been wishing for a storm all day, in hopes the rain would wash out and ruin the planned Fourth of July fireworks displays. It seems we often have thunder storms during my flamekeeping shifts.
I don't celebrate days like today. I am not a member of the civil religion of this country (though I happened to be born an American citizen, I do not subscribe to Americanism or, as most would call it, patriotism). And because I believe that rituals have power - even when we don't mean them to or believe them to - I do not participate in community rituals that glorify war and violence, that celebrate death and destruction, that serve only to reinforce the boundaries between a righteous Us and an untrustworthy Them.
But because the civil religion is a religion (whether its followers believe it to be or not), I also try as much as I can not to spend my time actively berating those who do participate. It's hard. Very, very hard.
What's harder is seeing Pagans promoting concepts like "Pagan-American" and hailing the invented piece of propaganda known as "Columbia" (named for a man who committed atrocities gleefully against the indigenous peoples of this land and who was denounced even by people in his own time for doing so) as though she were a goddess. Columbia is no more a goddess than Coca-Cola is a god - and I mean that in all its is/isn't tension and complexity.
I can't feel that it's anything but reprehensible and cruel to celebrate a "goddess of the land of America" under the name of a man who tortured and killed so many of those who once lived here. On a day when we supposedly celebrate and honor those brave men (mostly men) who fought for our independence from Britain, do we give any thought to who else they fought - do we remember how Washington earned his promotions through his campaigns against the natives? do we remember that it was not only freedom from colonial rule, but the freedom to rule over an occupied, colonized land that was won? And to turn around and hail the name Columbia! I would retch if I weren't so close to tears.
And Brigid is a goddess of justice, a goddess of peace... but she is also Mother to Sorrow, who saw her son cut down in battle and keened her grief unchecked by shame, a sorrow so all-encompassing it could only be a testament to love. Of course, she would bring me back to thoughts of the Fourth of July when I would rather have ignored it, let it go unmarked and unremarked. Do I have her courage, to wail in public grief, to allow my sorrow and anger to be a testament and song to the greatness of love and hope?
I don't want to. I don't think I have the courage, not this year. I'm tired of being the punching-bag token pacifist. I have no friends or family who made it home from war, I have no claim to respect that would keep the ridicule in check. I can protest until I'm blue in the face - say that though I hate war, I do not hate soldiers, say that though I work for peace, I am not an ideologue or even an idealist - but no one listens.
Except Brigid. Maybe she listens. And this was what brought me to her service, I remember now. I'd read so many descriptions of her, none of which had really rung true. Then I read Lady Gregory writing about her face, how half of it was beautiful and full of light, and half of it was dark and deformed and terrible. And I thought, yes, this I recognize, this is my goddess. Brigid of the Ruined Eye. Brigid, Mother to Sorrow, Lover to Darkness - and yet, Lady of Light, Guardian of Peace. Praise to you.
As polytheists, do we not have the freedom to choose, to worship what gods we will? I will worship the Lady of Star Fire, the holy triple flame who burns ashless, who works in the darkness. I will worship her in her fullness, not only what is beautiful and poetic, but what is wretched and awful and ugly with grief and sadness. I will honor her for her courage, her willingness to be vulnerable before the world. How could I have forgotten this about you, Brigid? Help me to remember. Help me to work in that same service - not only poetry and beauty, but the hard work of justice, the dirty old work of weakness and transformation.
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Monday, July 4, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Diary - Flamekeeping
Days of Note: Flamekeeping begins at sundown
Sun: cancer (cardinal water), 5:54 AM - 8:54 PM
Moon: waxing crescent, leo (fixed fire), VoC
Earth: hot and sunny much of the day, with winds this evening blowing in billowing clouds, for a brief shower before moving on again
I began my shift with some simple awen breathing, during which it seemed almost as though I could hear Brigid whispering to me. Thoughts kept arising as I tried to quiet my mind, some of which seemed too clear and articulate to really be "my own" thoughts exactly - most of them concerning my neglect of my Flamekeeping and my dourness about the responsibility of doing it tonight (when I was feeling tired and overwhelmed and my back is sore and distracting from the tattoo, which is still healing). The simplicity of the candles flickering and the other ritual objects on the altar reminded me that ritual is meant to be beautiful and moving, not a chore or a burden, and that lately it seems I've been grumbling overly much (not out loud, but kind of subconsciously) about my Flamekeeping shifts, giving Brigid grief instead of my joy and gratitude and praise. So there seemed to be some chastisement there, and a suggestion also that I've been focused too much on expecting Brigid to "prove herself" to me by flooding me with warm-fuzzy feel-goods and inspiration... but not enough focus on my part on what I can offer back to her and to the world in her honor.
After this period of quiet reflection and awen-breath, I said my simple opening-shift prayer while "charging" the Brigid's Cross and hanging it around my neck. Then I followed up with one of my rosary prayers to her, and the Lady of the Star Fire chant that I wrote back in November. (I said these prayers out loud, because I felt I needed to more fully embody them tonight, instead of just "thinking" them silently to myself.) After this, I blessed the small pitcher of water on the altar and offered to Brigid the water, the incense, the light of the flames and my gratitude and honor to her. I offered a few flicks of water to each of the triple flames, and then took a sip to honor the Spirit Within which needs nourishing and care as well.
Following this, I asked Brigid to help guide me and began my divination, using my Shadowscapes tarot deck, asking the question, "What gifts can I offer in honor and service to you, O Brigid?"
The cards I drew were, in this order from left to right:
Eight of Cups | Four of Pentacles | High Priestess
Before I write up an interpretation of the cards, though, I want to finish recording the rest of the ritual. After drawing these cards, I went into a light trance (which was a bit difficult because I had a Jonathan Coulton song stuck in my head and had no drum music, or even a rattle to help me "source" - but I did my best and it seemed to work, in fact better than last time).
This time, I began by seeking the Angel Oak Tree as my beginning place, since it was to a very similar tree that Badger seemed to lead me last time. Stepping within the bright, airy, earthy, crystalline nemeton of the great Live Oak, sure enough there was Badger trundling forward to meet me. I knelt down and we embraced, glad to see each other. I began to ask Badger for help interpreting the cards, to seek an answer to what gifts I can offer in Brigid's honor, but Badger was already on it, digging down into the earth near the roots of the Tree. After only a few inches, Badger had scraped away a hole that seemed to open up into a great, vast deep-blue ocean beneath the earth. Badger dove in and began swimming down down down - I tried to follow, but found myself panicking and rushing back up towards the surface. Badger came back up and inquired what was wrong, and I tried to explain how I was afraid of "drowning" - or of not being strong enough or good enough to survive the plunge. Badger reassured me that not only was I up to the challenge, but that it was absolutely necessary and that this anxiety and clinging to the surface world of things was what the Four of Pentacles was indicating. Badger offered to "light my way," and once again there was that association or connection there with a Solar Badger or Sun Badger (I'm not sure if this is because the badger and bear are somewhat related animals symbolically - and like the bear, the badger hibernates and enters the earth, and so may have solar associations - or also like the groundhog, which may have some association with Brigid - or even just the B-D-G sounds in both names). Now shining with a kind of golden light, Badger swam down into the dark blue depths, and I followed, until it seemed we were no longer swimming, but climbing down a steep damp grassy hill at night towards a light in the distance. As we got closer, the light resolved into a campfire lit at the base of the hill, around which a group of people were gathered, laughing and sharing stories and songs with each other. Badger suggested (though not exactly in words) that I had forgotten that my sense of inspiration came from this kind of congenial sharing among equals, an intimate group joined together by joy and kinship and a sense of sacredness - and that this was very different from the insecurities that were leading me to always try to outdo and prove myself through my writing and other work these days. Next I asked, well, what about the other card, the High Priestess - at which point Badger indicated the moon flooding the hillside and fields and woods surrounding with silvery moonlight. I felt the moonlight suffuse my body, and that sense of looming power from up within myself, as though I'd grown taller than I actually was and was radiating or "expanding" out beyond myself. I protested that I didn't know how to be a High Priestess, but Badger seemed to insist that I have always had the potential to be a great priestess of the gods and to some extent I have been afraid of that calling, even though it's always been there. There was also the sense that serving as a priestess had little to nothing to do with being able to attract a large congregation or group of followers - that was not my job to worry about, it was enough that I serve however I could. I expressed how all of my study recently and all the things I want to learn are so that I can become a better priestess to my gods - but Badger seemed to scoff (affectionately) at that, and suddenly I was half-out of trance and aware of my body again, and Badger was pointing out to me that this was all already within me, deep within - it was not something I had to acquire from an external source through learning, but something I had to learn how to access and trust. After this, I sort of dropped back into the trance-place again and I asked Badger if we could return, so together we walked back up the hill until we were swimming back through the dark waters and breaking surface at the roots of the Great Tree.
After coming out of trance, I thanked Badger for the guidance and support, and in gratitude I danced Badger a bit (this time the dance was more like "swimming" - swinging my arms in waving motions out at my sides and above my head, fingers splayed, while my lower body kind of bounced a bit almost as though I were kicking my back legs as you do when you doggy-paddle).
After this, I ended the ritual by extinguishing two of the three candles, leaving the LED candle lit.
I would like to ponder the meaning of the card reading and maybe write more about it tomorrow (especially because my wrist is beginning to hurt, having to keep it up so the tattoo doesn't rub against the keyboard of the laptop). So more on that later.
Sun: cancer (cardinal water), 5:54 AM - 8:54 PM
Moon: waxing crescent, leo (fixed fire), VoC
Earth: hot and sunny much of the day, with winds this evening blowing in billowing clouds, for a brief shower before moving on again
Flamekeeping Ritual
A few minutes before sunset I sat down to my altar, with incense burning and three candles lit in honor of Brigid. Unfortunately, my white pillar candle overspilled its wax last time it was lit, trapping my flamekeeping pendant beneath it - but I have since begun wearing an acorn pendant instead of my Brigid's Cross as a daily symbol of my Druidry, so I decided tonight to begin using my Brigid's Cross necklace itself as my Flamekeeping symbol. I will also be leaving the LED candle lit until sunset tomorrow, though it wouldn't be safe or practical to leave a real-flame candle burning.I began my shift with some simple awen breathing, during which it seemed almost as though I could hear Brigid whispering to me. Thoughts kept arising as I tried to quiet my mind, some of which seemed too clear and articulate to really be "my own" thoughts exactly - most of them concerning my neglect of my Flamekeeping and my dourness about the responsibility of doing it tonight (when I was feeling tired and overwhelmed and my back is sore and distracting from the tattoo, which is still healing). The simplicity of the candles flickering and the other ritual objects on the altar reminded me that ritual is meant to be beautiful and moving, not a chore or a burden, and that lately it seems I've been grumbling overly much (not out loud, but kind of subconsciously) about my Flamekeeping shifts, giving Brigid grief instead of my joy and gratitude and praise. So there seemed to be some chastisement there, and a suggestion also that I've been focused too much on expecting Brigid to "prove herself" to me by flooding me with warm-fuzzy feel-goods and inspiration... but not enough focus on my part on what I can offer back to her and to the world in her honor.
After this period of quiet reflection and awen-breath, I said my simple opening-shift prayer while "charging" the Brigid's Cross and hanging it around my neck. Then I followed up with one of my rosary prayers to her, and the Lady of the Star Fire chant that I wrote back in November. (I said these prayers out loud, because I felt I needed to more fully embody them tonight, instead of just "thinking" them silently to myself.) After this, I blessed the small pitcher of water on the altar and offered to Brigid the water, the incense, the light of the flames and my gratitude and honor to her. I offered a few flicks of water to each of the triple flames, and then took a sip to honor the Spirit Within which needs nourishing and care as well.
Following this, I asked Brigid to help guide me and began my divination, using my Shadowscapes tarot deck, asking the question, "What gifts can I offer in honor and service to you, O Brigid?"
The cards I drew were, in this order from left to right:
Before I write up an interpretation of the cards, though, I want to finish recording the rest of the ritual. After drawing these cards, I went into a light trance (which was a bit difficult because I had a Jonathan Coulton song stuck in my head and had no drum music, or even a rattle to help me "source" - but I did my best and it seemed to work, in fact better than last time).
This time, I began by seeking the Angel Oak Tree as my beginning place, since it was to a very similar tree that Badger seemed to lead me last time. Stepping within the bright, airy, earthy, crystalline nemeton of the great Live Oak, sure enough there was Badger trundling forward to meet me. I knelt down and we embraced, glad to see each other. I began to ask Badger for help interpreting the cards, to seek an answer to what gifts I can offer in Brigid's honor, but Badger was already on it, digging down into the earth near the roots of the Tree. After only a few inches, Badger had scraped away a hole that seemed to open up into a great, vast deep-blue ocean beneath the earth. Badger dove in and began swimming down down down - I tried to follow, but found myself panicking and rushing back up towards the surface. Badger came back up and inquired what was wrong, and I tried to explain how I was afraid of "drowning" - or of not being strong enough or good enough to survive the plunge. Badger reassured me that not only was I up to the challenge, but that it was absolutely necessary and that this anxiety and clinging to the surface world of things was what the Four of Pentacles was indicating. Badger offered to "light my way," and once again there was that association or connection there with a Solar Badger or Sun Badger (I'm not sure if this is because the badger and bear are somewhat related animals symbolically - and like the bear, the badger hibernates and enters the earth, and so may have solar associations - or also like the groundhog, which may have some association with Brigid - or even just the B-D-G sounds in both names). Now shining with a kind of golden light, Badger swam down into the dark blue depths, and I followed, until it seemed we were no longer swimming, but climbing down a steep damp grassy hill at night towards a light in the distance. As we got closer, the light resolved into a campfire lit at the base of the hill, around which a group of people were gathered, laughing and sharing stories and songs with each other. Badger suggested (though not exactly in words) that I had forgotten that my sense of inspiration came from this kind of congenial sharing among equals, an intimate group joined together by joy and kinship and a sense of sacredness - and that this was very different from the insecurities that were leading me to always try to outdo and prove myself through my writing and other work these days. Next I asked, well, what about the other card, the High Priestess - at which point Badger indicated the moon flooding the hillside and fields and woods surrounding with silvery moonlight. I felt the moonlight suffuse my body, and that sense of looming power from up within myself, as though I'd grown taller than I actually was and was radiating or "expanding" out beyond myself. I protested that I didn't know how to be a High Priestess, but Badger seemed to insist that I have always had the potential to be a great priestess of the gods and to some extent I have been afraid of that calling, even though it's always been there. There was also the sense that serving as a priestess had little to nothing to do with being able to attract a large congregation or group of followers - that was not my job to worry about, it was enough that I serve however I could. I expressed how all of my study recently and all the things I want to learn are so that I can become a better priestess to my gods - but Badger seemed to scoff (affectionately) at that, and suddenly I was half-out of trance and aware of my body again, and Badger was pointing out to me that this was all already within me, deep within - it was not something I had to acquire from an external source through learning, but something I had to learn how to access and trust. After this, I sort of dropped back into the trance-place again and I asked Badger if we could return, so together we walked back up the hill until we were swimming back through the dark waters and breaking surface at the roots of the Great Tree.
After coming out of trance, I thanked Badger for the guidance and support, and in gratitude I danced Badger a bit (this time the dance was more like "swimming" - swinging my arms in waving motions out at my sides and above my head, fingers splayed, while my lower body kind of bounced a bit almost as though I were kicking my back legs as you do when you doggy-paddle).
After this, I ended the ritual by extinguishing two of the three candles, leaving the LED candle lit.
I would like to ponder the meaning of the card reading and maybe write more about it tomorrow (especially because my wrist is beginning to hurt, having to keep it up so the tattoo doesn't rub against the keyboard of the laptop). So more on that later.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Diary - Druidry and Environmentalism
Days of Note: New Field Poppy Moon
Sun: cancer (cardinal water), 5:53 AM - 8:54 PM
Moon: new moon, cancer (cardinal water), VoC
Earth: gorgeous, sunny, not to hot, clear and bright day, gentle breeze, couldn't be more perfect, really
Below is a response I posted to a thread about Druidry and Environmentalism on the TC Neo-Druidry SIG.
Love this and the community service thread! Thanks for starting them. :)
I think you're right on the mark about Druidry's relationship to environmentalism. The Druid Revival began, along with the Romantic Period of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, at least in part in response to the Industrial Revolution and its dehumanizing, world-devouring influences. The Romantics (artists, poets, intellectuals, philosophers, etc.) were responding to the kind of Cartesian dualism that split the mind/spirit from the physical body and the material world. Valuing the aesthetic and spiritual qualities of the natural world was a big part of how they countered this dualism and sought to overcome it. I think these days folks have a tendency to dismiss Revival Druidry as "romanticism" (lower-case) as though to suggest that it's naively idealistic or inaccurate. There are some inaccuracies in it, of course, but Romanticism (upper-case) was a hugely important philosophical movement in the evolution of Western civilization, and modern day environmentalism and conservation (not to mention ecosophy and deep ecology, and even the scientific study of ecosystems to some extent) owe their existence to ideas first explored by the Romantics. If you really wanted to get technical, you could probably argue that any person today who uses the name "Druid" owes at least some thanks to the Romantics for their part in the revival of that spiritual archetype.
But it's not just Druidry's connection with the Romantics that suggests it has some "green" tendencies. From my understanding of ancient Celtic culture, the Celts tended to be much more concerned with the earth and (what we would call) "nature spirits" than some of the other ancient religious traditions of the time. In fact, that was one of the arguments the Romans used in support of their belief that the Celts were mere uncivilized barbarians - that they held their rituals outside among the trees in sacred groves and seemed to worship nature, instead of worshipping "proper" gods in elaborate temples full of refined sculptures. A deep connection with and respect for the natural world runs deeply through Celtic spirituality in general - and actually, it seems to me that the Wiccan focus on the natural world might actually stem from its early relationship (via Gerald Gardner and Ross Nichols) to Revival Druidry and Celtic spirituality. I think it's kind of a shame that some Reconstructionists I've met and talked to these days try to distance themselves from Wicca by dropping this nature-focus and focusing instead on polytheism as of primary importance. (That was actually a discussion we had on another thread, so I don't want to rehash it here! ;))
Personally, the focus on the natural world and environmentalism is so central to my understanding of Druidry, it's fair to say that it's the primary (if not entire) reason I became a Pagan to begin with. I had struggled all my life with the ambivalent role that nature and the earth played in Christianity, looking to saints like Francis of Assisi to try to ease my discomfort with how often world-denying the Christian tradition could be. In the end, though, it just wasn't enough - and when I discovered Druidry, it came as such a relief that here was a religious path where my love of the earth could take a central role. My relationship with the natural world and its wildernesses had always been my main way of connecting with the sacred, and here was a community where that was not only tolerated, but supported and encouraged! Fantastic! :)
My environmentalism has remained a central aspect of my Druidry ever since. My partner and I live very frugally and simply, to lessen our impact on the earth in every way we can. We do all the small stuff - washing our clothes in cold water, refusing to use the car unless absolutely necessary, walking or biking most places, eating a vegetarian diet of mostly local, organic foods, reducing our plastic use to almost nothing, composting in the backyard, etc. We also participate in local environmental activism when we can, and we try to get away into the woods of the local state park to camp at least every few months during reasonable weather. We also both write regularly to advocate for environmental awareness (I'm the blog project coordinator for No Unsacred Place). And since we're getting married in two and a half months, we've spent the past year planning a "green" wedding and we're going for Platinum Certification for our wedding through the Live Green Live Smart Institute.
But maybe one of the most important ways that we blend our environmentalism with our spirituality is by actually trying to cultivate and nurture our relationship with the local landscape. I've been studying deep ecology and eco-philosophy for the past year or so, and slowly been learning more and more about our bioregion and its needs and moods. My spiritual practice challenges me to move away from an anthropocentric worldview and learn to see the world and all its beings as part of a "ecology of Spirit," all interconnected and valuable in their own right.
Wow! I didn't mean for this to get so long! But it's such a great topic, and a really important one, too. :) Thanks again for starting the thread!
Sun: cancer (cardinal water), 5:53 AM - 8:54 PM
Moon: new moon, cancer (cardinal water), VoC
Earth: gorgeous, sunny, not to hot, clear and bright day, gentle breeze, couldn't be more perfect, really
Below is a response I posted to a thread about Druidry and Environmentalism on the TC Neo-Druidry SIG.
Druidry seems to have the reputation of being a "green" religion, taking a special interest in the natural world and our place in it. From ancient harvests of mistletoe from oak trees to modern celebrations of the solstice at Stonehenge, nature often plays a special role in how Druids see the world today.
Does environmentalism play a role in your Druidic path? How do you relate to nature, to both the environment around you and greater planetary concerns? Would you agree or disagree with the perception that Druidry is a "green" religion? Has increased nature awareness/environmentalism inspired you to make certain changes in your life (in your diet, recycling, spontaneous tree hugging, etc)?
Love this and the community service thread! Thanks for starting them. :)
I think you're right on the mark about Druidry's relationship to environmentalism. The Druid Revival began, along with the Romantic Period of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, at least in part in response to the Industrial Revolution and its dehumanizing, world-devouring influences. The Romantics (artists, poets, intellectuals, philosophers, etc.) were responding to the kind of Cartesian dualism that split the mind/spirit from the physical body and the material world. Valuing the aesthetic and spiritual qualities of the natural world was a big part of how they countered this dualism and sought to overcome it. I think these days folks have a tendency to dismiss Revival Druidry as "romanticism" (lower-case) as though to suggest that it's naively idealistic or inaccurate. There are some inaccuracies in it, of course, but Romanticism (upper-case) was a hugely important philosophical movement in the evolution of Western civilization, and modern day environmentalism and conservation (not to mention ecosophy and deep ecology, and even the scientific study of ecosystems to some extent) owe their existence to ideas first explored by the Romantics. If you really wanted to get technical, you could probably argue that any person today who uses the name "Druid" owes at least some thanks to the Romantics for their part in the revival of that spiritual archetype.
But it's not just Druidry's connection with the Romantics that suggests it has some "green" tendencies. From my understanding of ancient Celtic culture, the Celts tended to be much more concerned with the earth and (what we would call) "nature spirits" than some of the other ancient religious traditions of the time. In fact, that was one of the arguments the Romans used in support of their belief that the Celts were mere uncivilized barbarians - that they held their rituals outside among the trees in sacred groves and seemed to worship nature, instead of worshipping "proper" gods in elaborate temples full of refined sculptures. A deep connection with and respect for the natural world runs deeply through Celtic spirituality in general - and actually, it seems to me that the Wiccan focus on the natural world might actually stem from its early relationship (via Gerald Gardner and Ross Nichols) to Revival Druidry and Celtic spirituality. I think it's kind of a shame that some Reconstructionists I've met and talked to these days try to distance themselves from Wicca by dropping this nature-focus and focusing instead on polytheism as of primary importance. (That was actually a discussion we had on another thread, so I don't want to rehash it here! ;))
Personally, the focus on the natural world and environmentalism is so central to my understanding of Druidry, it's fair to say that it's the primary (if not entire) reason I became a Pagan to begin with. I had struggled all my life with the ambivalent role that nature and the earth played in Christianity, looking to saints like Francis of Assisi to try to ease my discomfort with how often world-denying the Christian tradition could be. In the end, though, it just wasn't enough - and when I discovered Druidry, it came as such a relief that here was a religious path where my love of the earth could take a central role. My relationship with the natural world and its wildernesses had always been my main way of connecting with the sacred, and here was a community where that was not only tolerated, but supported and encouraged! Fantastic! :)
My environmentalism has remained a central aspect of my Druidry ever since. My partner and I live very frugally and simply, to lessen our impact on the earth in every way we can. We do all the small stuff - washing our clothes in cold water, refusing to use the car unless absolutely necessary, walking or biking most places, eating a vegetarian diet of mostly local, organic foods, reducing our plastic use to almost nothing, composting in the backyard, etc. We also participate in local environmental activism when we can, and we try to get away into the woods of the local state park to camp at least every few months during reasonable weather. We also both write regularly to advocate for environmental awareness (I'm the blog project coordinator for No Unsacred Place). And since we're getting married in two and a half months, we've spent the past year planning a "green" wedding and we're going for Platinum Certification for our wedding through the Live Green Live Smart Institute.
But maybe one of the most important ways that we blend our environmentalism with our spirituality is by actually trying to cultivate and nurture our relationship with the local landscape. I've been studying deep ecology and eco-philosophy for the past year or so, and slowly been learning more and more about our bioregion and its needs and moods. My spiritual practice challenges me to move away from an anthropocentric worldview and learn to see the world and all its beings as part of a "ecology of Spirit," all interconnected and valuable in their own right.
Wow! I didn't mean for this to get so long! But it's such a great topic, and a really important one, too. :) Thanks again for starting the thread!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Diary - Spirit Animal
Sun: cancer (cardinal water), 5:50 AM - 8:54 PM
Moon: last quarter, pisces (mutable water), VoC
Earth: hot and muggy all day with thick clouds this morning giving way to sun this afternoon, with evening comes more clouds again and rustling wind hinting at a thunderstorm
So I finally had a chance to try out some of the shamanic journey work from the book Jeff got me for my birthday, Caitlin Matthews' Singing the Soul Back Home: Shamanic wisdom for every day.
For the ritual, I did draw a circle (with incense) to ward and protect the space, and then invited in the blessings of the four directions. Next, I did the DOTR Three Realms working to connect to below, above and center (my way: sea, sky and land/tree, respectively). Once grounded and centered, I took off my glasses and tied on the blindfold to help with trance work.
For this first attempt, I followed Caitlin Matthews' advice about first trying to connect with your instrument and then finding a "spirit animal." I have a small, square clay rattle — forget where I got it — that seems modeled after some Native American look, with spirals carved into one side. So to begin, I spent some time exploring the rattle and trying to use it in different ways to get a consistent sound. It was more difficult than I'd anticipated and I found that it was very hard to keep a consistent beat with it — it seemed like the beads (or whatever is inside the rattle) would get kind of stuck in a corner if I shook the rattle too consistently in just one direction, so that the rattle would become muted and almost silent…. but thinking too much about it and trying to intentionally vary the movement of my hand often resulted in an uneven rhythm or just plain confused coordination.
I did eventually find a way of holding the rattle where I could get a consistent beat without having to consciously think about it, so at that point then I tried to do some journey work. Caitlin Matthews recommends beginning every journey in the Middle World from a real location — not necessarily the location you're actually in, but some location that actually exists in the physical world somewhere and that you've been to. So instead of going to my "inner grove" as I would normally do, I tried to go to this one outcropping on Mount Desert Island in Acadia, where the cliffs jut out into the ocean and the low pine forests always seem shrouded in fog. It's a very quiet, mist-strewn and magical place and I've felt more than once that I could very well slip between the worlds there. It's also where I saw those wild otters running through the underbrush that one year. So I reached out to try to get there…
But not all that successfully. I felt like I couldn't concentrate very well and kept slipping in and out of focus. I think there are several reasons for this: (a) Not being used to trying to rattle and meditate at the same time. (b) The rattle itself not giving the most resonant rhythm to journey with. (c) Trying to go to a location that I don't have much practice going to. (d) My slight physical discomfort because of the stuffy, overly warm room, the heaviness of the blindfold which made me even warmer, and a mild headache probably from lack of food and/or water. Not the best conditions for trying to do journey work, but it was the only time I really had.
Once or twice, I seemed to catch glimpses of animals — but for a long time, none really came close enough for me to connect or communicate with them in any way. A seagull here or there out over the ocean, that type of thing. I tried to keep my purpose in mind during the work, repeating my intention to journey in order to meet my spirit animal... but for a while, it was touch and go and I was getting frustrated. Once or twice, I seemed to see some kind of creature in front of me on the trail among the trees and undergrowth, but couldn't get a clear impression.
Eventually, I decided to stop rattling and try journeying in silence. I laid down on my back (to relieve the cramped circulation in my left leg from the way I'd been sitting) and untied the blindfold, just draping it gently over my eyes instead. I continued to try to stay focused on the journey work, but I may have started to drift off to sleep or allow my mind to wander. At one point, though, I realized that in my mind that sure enough I was following along behind an animal, short and stocky and low to the ground. I'm not sure if this was in dream or trance or what, but when I realized it, I tried to clarify the impression and asked of the creature if it was my spirit animal whom I'd come to meet. It turned to look at me briefly, and for a second I couldn't tell quite what I was looking at, but then the impression resolved into a grayish, shaggy badger (with the deep black face and the white stripe down its forehead to its nose).
My first reaction was to scoff and think that this couldn't be my spirit animal, because I felt no connection with that animal at all and it seemed so... dull and mundane. Part of me noticed some similarity between the badger and the white dog, Moira, who has shown up in some of my meditations before, and I wondered if this was Moira just in a different guise. I tried to ask the badger its name and find out if it was Moira, but it shrugged and trundled off along the path. I think at this point I began to fall asleep again, because though I continued to follow it, I started to hear very clearly two voices arguing — they were male, youngish, with thick stereotypically Mexican/Hispanic accents — and though I couldn't see anyone (it was as if the voices were behind me or as if my eyes were closed, though I could still see Badger ahead of me), they continued to argue loudly about whether or not Badger was my spirit animal. One of them said (speaking to me, not to the other) something like, "Oh, so, it won't speak to me, so now it won't speak to you!" as though in explanation for why the badger didn't seem interested in speaking and had turned its back on me and trundled away.
Then suddenly, I realized I'd lost track or lost sight of where Badger had gone, but I was standing in front of a huge, thick-trunked tree. Though I hadn't seen anything, I had the vague impression that Badger has actually become the tree, and the tree seemed to have an gnarled old face in its trunk, made from the bumps and knots of the bark. I looked down and it was as though the ground beneath were clear or transparent somehow, or that at least I could see through it, because I could see the roots of the tree reaching down into the earth and rock and spreading out in all directions, just as I could see the branches of the tree spreading out above. It was almost like looking at a painting or drawing (or photoshopped photograph) of a tree with a "reflection" in the ground, except the reflection wasn't a mirror image reversed of the leafy branches, but definitely and distinctly twining, dirty roots. Not sure what to do, I sat down under the tree, my back against the trunk and found myself doing the DOTR Three Realm working the way I had done when visiting the Angel Oak last month.
The loud, obnoxious invisible voices continued to argue back and forth, until at some point I kind of interrupted them and asked them to shut it. Then I tried reaching out to Badger again to see if it would come back, and there it was, coming out from behind the tree trunk. I asked politely if I could come closer, and it sat back, upright on its back haunches, and allowed me to approach. I saw its amazingly powerful claws, and its small eyes peering at me. I started to think about all the various references to badgers I'd seen recently - the story Emma Restall Orr tells in her book about a badger coming across her in meditation in the woods, the "honey badger don't give a shit" youtube video Ryan showed everyone at the last work conference, some vague impression that maybe the badger was related to the groundhog and was therefore connected somehow to Brigid... When Badger seemed to lose patience with my wandering, chattering mind and clicked it claws at me, then leaned back down onto all fours and trundled off again. I realized I couldn't keep focus for much longer in any case, so at that point I ended the journey work.
I sat back up and wasn't sure what to do for a moment. I was so skeptical of Badger being my spirit animal, fairly convinced that it was just some weird thing in my subconscious picking up pop culture references or something... but I knew that the next step, according to Caitlin Matthews, was to "Dance the Animal" to welcome it and give it a chance to live in the world through you. So in the small space I had in the study where I was set up for ritual, I sort of sat on my haunches and began to try to dance in a way that mimicked the movement of Badger. Since most of my journey had been spent watching it shuffle away, I started by kind of rocking my hips back and forth, as though "trundling in place" — then I allowed this movement to kind of carry all the way up my spine until my whole torso was shifting and twisting back and forth. I got the urge to move my arms as well, and so began to rock them backwards and forwards, swinging them as though walking — it took a bit to get the hang of it and coordinate the swinging with the rocking of my hips. I did this for quite a while (it seemed like a while, anyway), breathing kind of heavily, almost snuffling. By the end of it, I felt... great. The dancing, even in place, was amazingly helpful in seeming to ground me in my body and integrate the Badger energy, so that by the end I no longer was skeptical or scoffing at the idea that Badger might be my spirit animal after all.
To end the ritual, I blessed my small blue pitched of water, and gave a few flicks of water to the fire in thanks to the spirit of Badger, then took a sip of the water to honor the Badger spirit within me as well. I then did some poking around online to see if I could find out anything about the meaning or associations of badgers in mythology... but that'll have to wait until another time.
Moon: last quarter, pisces (mutable water), VoC
Earth: hot and muggy all day with thick clouds this morning giving way to sun this afternoon, with evening comes more clouds again and rustling wind hinting at a thunderstorm
So I finally had a chance to try out some of the shamanic journey work from the book Jeff got me for my birthday, Caitlin Matthews' Singing the Soul Back Home: Shamanic wisdom for every day.
For the ritual, I did draw a circle (with incense) to ward and protect the space, and then invited in the blessings of the four directions. Next, I did the DOTR Three Realms working to connect to below, above and center (my way: sea, sky and land/tree, respectively). Once grounded and centered, I took off my glasses and tied on the blindfold to help with trance work.
For this first attempt, I followed Caitlin Matthews' advice about first trying to connect with your instrument and then finding a "spirit animal." I have a small, square clay rattle — forget where I got it — that seems modeled after some Native American look, with spirals carved into one side. So to begin, I spent some time exploring the rattle and trying to use it in different ways to get a consistent sound. It was more difficult than I'd anticipated and I found that it was very hard to keep a consistent beat with it — it seemed like the beads (or whatever is inside the rattle) would get kind of stuck in a corner if I shook the rattle too consistently in just one direction, so that the rattle would become muted and almost silent…. but thinking too much about it and trying to intentionally vary the movement of my hand often resulted in an uneven rhythm or just plain confused coordination.
I did eventually find a way of holding the rattle where I could get a consistent beat without having to consciously think about it, so at that point then I tried to do some journey work. Caitlin Matthews recommends beginning every journey in the Middle World from a real location — not necessarily the location you're actually in, but some location that actually exists in the physical world somewhere and that you've been to. So instead of going to my "inner grove" as I would normally do, I tried to go to this one outcropping on Mount Desert Island in Acadia, where the cliffs jut out into the ocean and the low pine forests always seem shrouded in fog. It's a very quiet, mist-strewn and magical place and I've felt more than once that I could very well slip between the worlds there. It's also where I saw those wild otters running through the underbrush that one year. So I reached out to try to get there…
But not all that successfully. I felt like I couldn't concentrate very well and kept slipping in and out of focus. I think there are several reasons for this: (a) Not being used to trying to rattle and meditate at the same time. (b) The rattle itself not giving the most resonant rhythm to journey with. (c) Trying to go to a location that I don't have much practice going to. (d) My slight physical discomfort because of the stuffy, overly warm room, the heaviness of the blindfold which made me even warmer, and a mild headache probably from lack of food and/or water. Not the best conditions for trying to do journey work, but it was the only time I really had.
Once or twice, I seemed to catch glimpses of animals — but for a long time, none really came close enough for me to connect or communicate with them in any way. A seagull here or there out over the ocean, that type of thing. I tried to keep my purpose in mind during the work, repeating my intention to journey in order to meet my spirit animal... but for a while, it was touch and go and I was getting frustrated. Once or twice, I seemed to see some kind of creature in front of me on the trail among the trees and undergrowth, but couldn't get a clear impression.
Eventually, I decided to stop rattling and try journeying in silence. I laid down on my back (to relieve the cramped circulation in my left leg from the way I'd been sitting) and untied the blindfold, just draping it gently over my eyes instead. I continued to try to stay focused on the journey work, but I may have started to drift off to sleep or allow my mind to wander. At one point, though, I realized that in my mind that sure enough I was following along behind an animal, short and stocky and low to the ground. I'm not sure if this was in dream or trance or what, but when I realized it, I tried to clarify the impression and asked of the creature if it was my spirit animal whom I'd come to meet. It turned to look at me briefly, and for a second I couldn't tell quite what I was looking at, but then the impression resolved into a grayish, shaggy badger (with the deep black face and the white stripe down its forehead to its nose).
My first reaction was to scoff and think that this couldn't be my spirit animal, because I felt no connection with that animal at all and it seemed so... dull and mundane. Part of me noticed some similarity between the badger and the white dog, Moira, who has shown up in some of my meditations before, and I wondered if this was Moira just in a different guise. I tried to ask the badger its name and find out if it was Moira, but it shrugged and trundled off along the path. I think at this point I began to fall asleep again, because though I continued to follow it, I started to hear very clearly two voices arguing — they were male, youngish, with thick stereotypically Mexican/Hispanic accents — and though I couldn't see anyone (it was as if the voices were behind me or as if my eyes were closed, though I could still see Badger ahead of me), they continued to argue loudly about whether or not Badger was my spirit animal. One of them said (speaking to me, not to the other) something like, "Oh, so, it won't speak to me, so now it won't speak to you!" as though in explanation for why the badger didn't seem interested in speaking and had turned its back on me and trundled away.
Then suddenly, I realized I'd lost track or lost sight of where Badger had gone, but I was standing in front of a huge, thick-trunked tree. Though I hadn't seen anything, I had the vague impression that Badger has actually become the tree, and the tree seemed to have an gnarled old face in its trunk, made from the bumps and knots of the bark. I looked down and it was as though the ground beneath were clear or transparent somehow, or that at least I could see through it, because I could see the roots of the tree reaching down into the earth and rock and spreading out in all directions, just as I could see the branches of the tree spreading out above. It was almost like looking at a painting or drawing (or photoshopped photograph) of a tree with a "reflection" in the ground, except the reflection wasn't a mirror image reversed of the leafy branches, but definitely and distinctly twining, dirty roots. Not sure what to do, I sat down under the tree, my back against the trunk and found myself doing the DOTR Three Realm working the way I had done when visiting the Angel Oak last month.
The loud, obnoxious invisible voices continued to argue back and forth, until at some point I kind of interrupted them and asked them to shut it. Then I tried reaching out to Badger again to see if it would come back, and there it was, coming out from behind the tree trunk. I asked politely if I could come closer, and it sat back, upright on its back haunches, and allowed me to approach. I saw its amazingly powerful claws, and its small eyes peering at me. I started to think about all the various references to badgers I'd seen recently - the story Emma Restall Orr tells in her book about a badger coming across her in meditation in the woods, the "honey badger don't give a shit" youtube video Ryan showed everyone at the last work conference, some vague impression that maybe the badger was related to the groundhog and was therefore connected somehow to Brigid... When Badger seemed to lose patience with my wandering, chattering mind and clicked it claws at me, then leaned back down onto all fours and trundled off again. I realized I couldn't keep focus for much longer in any case, so at that point I ended the journey work.
I sat back up and wasn't sure what to do for a moment. I was so skeptical of Badger being my spirit animal, fairly convinced that it was just some weird thing in my subconscious picking up pop culture references or something... but I knew that the next step, according to Caitlin Matthews, was to "Dance the Animal" to welcome it and give it a chance to live in the world through you. So in the small space I had in the study where I was set up for ritual, I sort of sat on my haunches and began to try to dance in a way that mimicked the movement of Badger. Since most of my journey had been spent watching it shuffle away, I started by kind of rocking my hips back and forth, as though "trundling in place" — then I allowed this movement to kind of carry all the way up my spine until my whole torso was shifting and twisting back and forth. I got the urge to move my arms as well, and so began to rock them backwards and forwards, swinging them as though walking — it took a bit to get the hang of it and coordinate the swinging with the rocking of my hips. I did this for quite a while (it seemed like a while, anyway), breathing kind of heavily, almost snuffling. By the end of it, I felt... great. The dancing, even in place, was amazingly helpful in seeming to ground me in my body and integrate the Badger energy, so that by the end I no longer was skeptical or scoffing at the idea that Badger might be my spirit animal after all.
To end the ritual, I blessed my small blue pitched of water, and gave a few flicks of water to the fire in thanks to the spirit of Badger, then took a sip of the water to honor the Badger spirit within me as well. I then did some poking around online to see if I could find out anything about the meaning or associations of badgers in mythology... but that'll have to wait until another time.
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