Imbolc Celebration and Life Balance Work

This past week I spent some time working on some discernment when it comes to my life goals and finding balance. I had a bit of a rough week, with major writer's block for several of my projects (including my columns for SageWoman and Aontacht coming up) — and on top of typical health stuff, I was left feeling restless, frustrated and somewhat directionless. I was also disappointed that my Imbolc detox diet seemed to have the opposite effect as usual. Usually when I switch to a raw vegan diet for a couple weeks, I feel more energetic and kind of "cleared out." This time, I just spent most of the time feeling rather weak and stuck, and my self-discipline gave out somewhat earlier than usual. That, of course, just frustrated me even more. It was, all told, a pretty shitty couple weeks, with the exception of Sunday itself, when we spent the day in the woods hiking and celebrated Imbolc with a very simple ritual.


I'd originally hoped to do a steampunk-inspired ritual for Imbolc, but the more I planned it, the more I realized there were certain ritual tools and such that we didn't have that we'd need to get first (like, of course, a dedicated ceremonial cast iron teapot — the water, tealight warmer and the loose herbal tea symbolizing the three Druidic elements and the three realms, with the teapot itself a symbolic reinterpretation of the Cauldron of inspiration and transformation.... except that we don't have an appropriate teapot that we could use). We tend to do very minimalist, simple rituals, since almost always we do them outside in the woods after a day of hiking, so usually all of our ritual tools and altar objects are practical and easily transportable. But the steampunk aesthetic is much more Victorian and elaborate in a lot of ways, and seems more suited to high/ceremonial magic (think: Golden Dawn and theosophy, both of which have their roots in the spiritualism of Victorian times).... So a steampunk ritual is really, by necessity, the exact opposite of minimalist. Jeff and I have been talking about slowly collecting items to create a specifically steampunk altar, and here and there we've made some progress (like the steampunk pacific tree frog I made recently, which is currently sitting on my naturalist/deep ecology altar), but by and large we still don't have the kind of tools necessary to pull off a steampunk ritual in style.

In any case, the ritual itself was lovely (and I wrote about it a bit here), but for the most part the past couple weeks have been less than stellar. In general, I felt that kind of listless feeling that leaves you dissatisfied but without being able to put your finger on exactly what's wrong. I felt bored and stuck, but no particular project or activity struck me as interesting enough to shake me out of it. So I decided to spend some time in discernment trying to figure out what it is that I actually want, to give me a clearer picture of where this sense of lack and ennui was coming from. I was inspired by Plotkin and his idea of the soul as our "ultimate place" in the world to look back at the placemaking diagram from PPS, which provides a kind of visual formula that helps to pinpoint weakness and areas of improvement when trying to craft a public or shared community space.

I thought it might be useful to tweak this diagram so that it would be more relevant to "soul-making." I liked the basic structure, with key attributes in the center and concentric circles beyond those for intangible qualities and tangible expressions or outcomes. I'm not sure how PPS determined the four quadrants for their placemaking diagram, but I decided to go ahead and use the four classic elements of earth, air, fire and water for mine, representing (respectively) the physical, mental, energetic and emotional aspects of my life. I rotated the quadrants somewhat so that each quadrant aligned with a cardinal direction.

I began by trying to imagine an ideal life in which I felt fulfilled and balanced in all of these different aspects — and I asked myself, what were the tangible, outward signs of this ideal life (or, ideal self)? This process of trying to articulate my goals and desires was itself incredibly helpful, since I found some goals much easier to identify than others. For instance, when it came to the physical aspects of my ideal life, it was easier for me to note right away that I wanted a healthy body, a good diet of food that was healthy for both me and the environment, access to nature and the outdoors, a beautiful and comfortable home, etc. When it came to the mental or intellectual aspects of my ideal life, though, I suddenly found that my goals were much less concrete — they were more abstract and intangible. That sent up a warning flag for me, since part of my frustration I think comes from feeling bored, not challenged or stimulated intellectually. Unfortunately, I tend to sublimate this boredom by doing things like eating or watching television... which only serves to undermine some of my other goals (like health and exercise). So simply by trying to organize my goals and my idea about what an ideal life/self would look like, I was able to identify areas where I was undermining myself without realizing it. I spent a few hours drawing up lists of intangible qualities that I wanted to invite into my life, and the tangible results or expressions of those qualities, or the kind of work or activity that would help me embody them. After doing these for all four quadrants, I turned my attention to the "key attributes" and tried to distill all of the different aspects of these four areas into a single word that seemed to encapsulate the attitude or attribute from which both the intangibles and tangibles arose. Below is the diagram that I eventually came up with:


Since the writing may be difficult to read (I wanted to make this a hands-on activity, so I used colored pencils instead of just making the diagram on the computer), here's a typed out list for each of the quadrants.

North - Physical

Tangibles:

• healthy body
• good diet
• regular exercise
• beautiful, comfortable home
• access to the outdoors/natural world
• financial security

Intangibles:

• stability
• balance
• strength
• endurance
• comfort
• rest
• health
• sensuality
• physical pleasure and enjoyment

Keyword:

• Enchantment

East - Mental

Tangibles:

• opportunities to teach
• opportunities to learn new things
• time to read carefully and think deeply
• conversations with people who respect and challenge me

Intangibles:

• perspective
• clarity
• challenge
• engagement
• growth
• patience
• persistence
• understanding and wisdom
• respect
• acknowledgement

Keyword:

• Insight

South - Energetic

Tangibles:

• regular creative writing (fiction, poetry, creative nonfic, spiritual/nature writing)
• expression through visual arts (drawing, photography)
• enjoyment in playing music (guitar, flute)
• time to relax and have fun
• crafting projects (beading, wood burning, clay)

Intangibles:

• energy
• motivation
• creativity
• self-discipline
• exploration
• freedom
• experimentation
• consistency

Keyword:

• Inspiration

West - Emotional

Tangibles:

• supportive community of smart, creative friends
• romance and surprise in marriage with Jeff
• regular get-togethers for fun and relaxation
• solitude in nature
• awareness and appreciation of beauty

Intangibles:

• sense of humor
• fun
• support
• engagement
• respect
• encouragement
• appreciation
• peace
• gratitude
• generosity

Keyword:

• Intimacy

I intentionally left out "spiritual" as one of the quadrants, for a couple of reasons. First, because I tend to associate the south and fire with energy, passion and creative activity, and although that can be very spiritual, I think the belief that it is somehow inherently more spiritual than any of the other quadrants is a kind of bias against the many other ways that spirit can manifest. The other reason was that I wanted to kind of "build up" my spiritual goals from the key attributes and attitudes of the other four quadrants, so that they were supported and shaped by those attributes. So that's what I ended up doing, including the keywords from the first four quadrants as "intangibles" (along with some others that are more specifically "spiritual") and then imagining what kinds of tangible outcomes or expressions would naturally follow from them in the area of religious or spiritual work in my life. From there, I then sought for what keyword or key attribute might speak to all of those things. This was what I came up with:

Center - Spiritual

Tangibles:

• regular meditation
• regular ritual as poetry/creative expression
• shared ritual with community
• simple daily rituals of routine, sacred in the ordinary
• opportunities for deepening theology
• crafting altar/shrines as aesthetic space
• connection with the gods through prayer
• sense of place/deep ecology (sense of belonging in and to the world)
• sharing sense of wonder/gratitude with others through spiritual work

Intangibles:

• enchantment
• insight
• inspiration
• intimacy
• groundedness and centeredness
• connection
• mystery
• love
• joy
• gratitude
• peace
• belonging
• balance

Keyword:

• Love
• Wonder

Since I have been doing more work with the tarot and delving back into some more "witchy" and ceremonial aspects of magic, I've been playing more recently with the pentagram as a symbol. I've always been intrigued by the Feri Tradition's use of the Iron and Pearl Pentacle meditations, though I haven't actually practiced them myself, not being Feri. I'm pretty sure that the basic concept of embodying the pentagram physically in yourself, with points corresponding to your crown and four limbs, is found in many different traditions, though the Feri Tradition's use of this technique is the one I'm most familiar with. In any case, I'm playing with the idea of using this Life Balance/Soul-Centric Self work to craft a personal pentacle meditation that will help me ground in these key attributes and invite them more deliberately into my life. So I spent some time drawing a simple pentacle diagram with the keywords at each of the points.


Needless to say, this plunged me into the complex issue of which elements/aspects correspond to which points, and why. Turns out, this question is weirdly complicated. I don't feel like I know enough about it at the moment, and it may take some experimentation on my part to figure out which version I like best. But for now, I just went with the most common correspondences (which I'm pretty sure derive originally from the Golden Dawn).

So that's where I'm at.

Astrology of Me: Natal Charts

Spent the afternoon working on drawing up my natal chart by hand. Not intending to do this every time, certainly, but I thought it would be a good practice to do at least a few times early on to give me some insight into the signs, houses, elements and such.

Diagraming the aspects turned out to be the most difficult, in part because of dull colored pencils (and in part just my own awkwardness and stupidity). So the aspects shown are only approximate. Which is fine, because I intend to go back and do more charts focusing on particular planets and their aspects.

Here is the computer-generated natal chart available from astro.com:

DOTR Lesson 4: Air

Sun: taurus (earth/fixed), 6:07am - 8:26pm
Moon: waxing gibbous, virgo (earth/mutable)
Earth: gorgeous and sunny, bright morning, with an afternoon getting up near 80º with thundershowers

I've done a pretty poor job of keeping up with this diary over the past month or so, but that doesn't mean I haven't continued my spiritual work, as well as work more specifically pertaining to DOTR. Sometimes it's difficult to remember to journal here, just because so much of my work seems to tie back in to my spiritual life and path in one way or another, though perhaps not always in clearly definable ways. In any case, I just finished some meditation on Air (for Lesson 3), and I wanted to spend some time noting a few important bits. But (as to be expected, I suppose), I'm feeling a bit "air headed" and scatter brained at the moment, so don't expect too much coherence.

First, a reflection on Air as an element. On Monday morning, I sat outside and did a simple ritual of meditation and connection with the element of Air (though, thanks to the brilliant weather we've been having, I also made passing acquaintance with Fire in the form of sunlight and, subsequently, sunburn). I haven't been keeping up with my meditation as much as I would like, and there have been plenty of things to distract me (more on that later), so I wasn't able to sink deeply into trance or anything like that. But rather than force it, I simply allowed myself to spend time with the element as it expressed itself in my immediate landscape. I felt the breeze on my skin, listened to it play through the wind chimes in the backyard, and watched as it moved the spiraling incense smoke this way and that, turning first away from me, then surrounding me, then lifting up to disappear into the air above me.

Sitting inside this morning to do meditation, I again watched the incense and not for the first time marveled at how solid the forms of smoke seemed, how they kept their shape (though that shape was definitely mutable and spiraling and every-changing) and I could watch one bend or curl of smoke as it wafted on its own unique journey through the barely moving currents of air in the room until it slowly faded — not so much dissipating as simply disappearing, fading away.

This brings my mind back to the relationship between the four classical elements (earth, air, fire and water) and the three Druidic elements of nwyfre, gwyar and calas. In JMG's Druidry Handbook, I always found the explanation rather dissatisfying. It seems to me that these three v. four are distinct systems of understanding the world, with their own implications, and if that's true then one should be able to bring them to bear on one another. Instead, in the Handbook, the four seem simply an extension of the three — so that the implication is the three are somehow incomplete — and nwyfre seems to morph and change not in any essential way, but more as a matter of convenience, taking on whatever extra role seems necessary. Really, the three Druidic elements as JMG presents them seem like a hobbled version of the four classical elements, less like a three-legged stool than a four-legged chair you've taken a saw to. In our teaching work with Savanah, Jeff and I have tried to develop both an understanding of the three elements as complete in themselves, and an understanding of how the four elements can be understood in relation to the three. Anyone who talks to a twelve year old probably knows that you need to know your shit and have your explanations clear if you want to escape endless scrutiny. It took a while to explain why gwyar was different from water, for instance, and calas not quite the same as earth, and so on. But it's been helpful work, and has forced me to articulate some things in my own approach.

The approach I use now is that the three Druidic elements can be understood as guiding principles or aspects of the world. I understand them, most simply, as form, flow and force (for calas, gwyar and nwyfre). Thus, calas is the principle of form, manifestation, boundaries, limits, distinction and individuality. Gwyar is the principle of flow, exchange, movement, communication, connection and freedom. And nwyfre is the principle of force, energy, initiative, desire (and repulsion), drive and life-force in the kind of spiritual sense. Each of these describes aspects that can be found in absolutely everything in the physical (and nonphysical) world.

How do these relate to the four classical elements of earth, air, fire and water? Here I borrow an understanding from astrology (and as I study more, the more I see how much insight this approach has to offer!). The three Druidic elements can be likened to the three qualities in astrology known as cardinal (corresponding in my understanding with nwyfre), mutable (with gwyar) and fixed (with calas) — for each of the twelve zodiac, a sign is a combination of one of these three aspects with one of the four classical elements. Thus, you have Taurus as fixed earth while Virgo is mutable earth, Leo is fixed fire while Aries is cardinal fire, and so on. The three combined in this way with the four create twelve, each with its own particular expression. Taking a cue from astrology then, I see the three Druidic elements as principles or aspects, and I see the four classical elements as qualities or "building blocks," so to speak. Each of the four classical elements has a quality to it that can be expressed by any of the three principles. Thus earth is dark, cool, dry and heavy; air is bright, light, hot and moist; fire is bright, light, hot and dry, water is dark, cool, moist and heavy. These combination of qualities mean each element has particular associations as well — times, places, objects, tools and other symbols that best exemplify or embody the quality particular to that element. (So, for instance, the seasons: spring as warm and moist, summer as hot and dry, fall as cool and moist, winter as cold and dry.)

But the key here is that each of the elements can be expressed through any of the principles represented by the three Druidic elements. Thus, we can have fire as a quality expressed in calas - that principle of a physical fire which gives it shape and definition in our experiential engagement, which imbues it with a kind of perceivable form, that gives it an edge and a boundary. Fire expressed in gwyar is the process of combustion and consumption, the transformation of fuel into flame through a reaction and exchange. Or, another example, earth in calas is, most simply, the material world itself, all around us, which we experience as a realm of form and manifestation, full of distinct entities with limits, boundaries that bump up against one another. Earth expressed by the principle of nwyfre, on the other hand, is the urge in Spirit itself to manifest through form and limit. It is the spark, the initiative, the force of life that gives rise to form, that seeks to consolidate itself into particular organized entities. It is the energy of nwyfre expressed through the quality of darkness and opacity and heaviness.

These are just preliminary thoughts, and I have work to do to tease out the details and how each combination really works. Some qualities (four elements) seem to have particular affinity with certain principles (three elements). (For instance, the element of water is deeply related to the element or principle of gwyar.) So one thing I want to do during this time of revisiting the four elements through the DOTR work is to explore how each of the four elements is expressed or exemplified or affected by the three Druidic elements as principles of being. I'm hoping my divination work will help with this as well. Not only do I plan to keep studying astrology during this time, but I'm also looking into Erynn Rowan Laurie's book on the ogham, in which she talks about using three full sets (of 20) for three "currents" — chthonic, oceanic and celestial — corresponding to the three realms. My understanding of the three Druidic elements of calas, gwyar and nwyfre is that they also correspond to the three realms… though exactly how they correspond is something I'm still working out, and some of it will depend on my deeper research into this approach to ogham.

In particular, on that note, I find myself wavering between associating calas or gwyar with the chthonic/earthy realm. My two patron deities, Brigid Star Fire and Manannan, seem to dwell in tension with each other, with Brigid very much a deity of sky and the celestial, while Manannan is not only a deity of the ocean, but of the depths and the darkness, so that he also seems connected to the "underground" (as well as the mists that rise from the earth to obscure our way, and the rain that pours from the sky and soaks into the earth, seeking its depths). This is another issue that I have with the DOTR Three Realms practice itself. Maybe because of my aesthetic sense of my need for balance (or because I am overly analytical about these things) — I find myself wanting to reach down to connect with "water" (or more specifically, with gwyar) below instead of with "earthy" aspects associated with calas and the land. For me, the blue, deep, dark, heavy, moist, watery qualities below can then be brought into relationship with the yellow, high, bright, light, dry, fiery celestial energies of nwyfre above…. mixing and mingling and expressing themselves in the green aspects of calas and the land, the realm of form and manifestation.

The tree then, a mighty presence of the land, is a symbol of that bridge and that relationship — reaching its branches and leaves up into the sky for sunlight and air, and reaching its roots deep into the earth in search of water and nutrients…. at both these extremes, you have fluidity, exchange, change and a kind of blurring of boundaries, a liminality where Tree merges with that which is seeks. And then, having received the gifts of the heights and the depths, the fire and the water, these extremes, opposites, are integrated and brought into relationship in such a way that you have the "middle earth," the land we walk upon as a meeting place of these other realms, the realm of unique manifestation and expression, individuality and boundaries. The individual can be lost in the mysteries of the depths just as in the celestial mysteries — there is a dark mysticism as well as a bright mysticism. But the "real world" of sensual, sensory experience, where we know ourselves as distinct entities for the most part (only sometimes sinking into depths or rising to heights where we forget our "selves" completely in union with something greater)… that's the realm of calas, of the land, and the Tree. It seems to me that a daily spiritual practice works best (in my experience, anyway) when it teaches us how to bring the more liminal, fluid mysteries of the depths and the heights and integrate them and express them in the everyday world around us. In Kabbalism, as I understand it, there's the idea of climbing up the tree to reach those heights, and then bringing that energy back down "the lightning strike zigzagging through the ten sefirot. But in this idea, the tree not only reaches up towards the celestial, but down as well, into the depth and darkness of the "underworld," and that energy and experience is brought into relationship from both directions into a center. (Plus, blue + yellow = green, duh!)

Is this "underworld" of watery depths and darkness most appropriately called "chthonic"? I'm not sure — I haven't ever used that term much. Perhaps "oceanic" makes more sense, especially since we tend to think (even if just metaphorically) of the lands kind of "floating" on the oceans (and understanding the underground lakes and rivers, the moistness of caves, and even the liquid molten rock below the earth's crust, it makes a kind of literal sense as well). If that's the case, then, does chthonic fit well with the idea of the Tree as bridge between celestial and oceanic, and the land as a kind of "middle ground" where these two Mysteries are brought into manifestation? I can't answer that, because I don't know enough about what the word "chthonic" is supposed to imply (though my first instinct is to answer no, it doesn't quite fit). Still, the relationship between "fire" and "water" (not as elements, now, but as symbols or representatives of the realms, I guess) is something that seems to rest at the core of my Celtic spirituality…. So it's worth exploring. Perhaps I'll tidy this up a bit and post it to the DOTR group blog for some feedback.

This became a long, rambling exploration in a rather more abstract way than I'd originally intended. This was all sparked by my observation during meditation of the way the incense smoke hung together, spiraling around itself — or, the other day, cast shadows on my arms and chest as I sat in the sunlight — bringing to mind again that this smoke, and the air currents themselves, are still very much expressing themselves in calas. The air currents, though they seem invisible to the human eye, are just as distinct, real things as fire or earth (or water and its slightly less invisible currents). To the birds who fly through the air, or the dogs and other animals navigating by scent, the currents of air are palpable presences, distinct bodies with their own boundaries. A story David Abram tells in his book, Becoming Animal, illustrates this point nicely — he describes one time watching ducks flying into a hard wind, dipping here and there, testing to find the edges of the strongest current of air and where there were slips and gaps in the wall of wind coming at them that they could push their way through. For the ducks, the air was as solid and bounded a thing as the landscapes of hills and valleys, forests and fields that we walk through, looking for our own slips and gaps to help us make our way. So air has expression in calas, in the realm of form and manifestation. The invisible, the unseen still has an active presence in and engagement with the manifest world. And as I watched the incense smoke, I understand that the element of Air, too, has its limits and boundaries.

I did want to talk a little bit about some other work I've been doing, but it seems that most of the morning has passed while I've been writing this (and I haven't even done a tarot card reading!). So I'll wrap things up here and maybe come back to it later. I am going to try to be more diligent in writing down these various reflections and experiences. I swear!

Hasty Letter to Mentor

Wow, B--! That sounds like an amazing moment! :)

I'm wondering if I'm experiencing a little energy boost as a result of my ties to the grove, because after a month or two of feeling "blocked" spiritually (or, more accurately, feeling so intensely engaged with practical life stuff, I haven't had time to do much more than meditate), the last day or two I've had a renewal of energy and focus. My flamekeeping shift for Brigid was just yesterday, and I actually spent part of that time going back over the DOTR lessons and looking at where I am and what's coming up next. So your message is well timed! ;)

Right now, I'm just about to start in on the lessons for the four elements, starting with Air. I'm in the process of studying, on my own time, the basics of astrology, as well as Erynn Rowan Laurie's take on the ogham. So I'm thinking of tying the four element work in to that exploration (since I have more than a passing familiarity with the four elements already, and this would provide a refresher as well as a more in-depth exploration). I'm beginning my study of astrology with Stephen Arroyo's handbook, but plan to move on to his well-known work "Astrology, Psychology and the Four Elements" where he explores the energies of the four elements and how they express themselves in the planets, houses and aspects in great depth. I'll probably read that over the course of the next few months, even if it doesn't precisely match up with the lessons as they're outlined.

My other concern right now is finding a grove to practice with in-person here in Pittsburgh. On Imbolc, I attended a rite hosted by the local ADF grove, which was a very good experience for me. Since then, I've been meaning to make it to some of their discussion groups and smaller blessing rites that they hold throughout the month, but my schedule has been full-to-bursting (and last Sunday's Beltaine ritual was rained out - so Jeff and I did a simple garden blessing ritual with the kids in the backyard instead.) Also, part of me feels like if I'm going to be regularly involved in their work, perhaps it makes sense for me to "officially" join ADF. But I'm hesitant to do that in part because I definitely part ways with them on some key theological issues, and in part because I'm not so inclined to go through yet another year-and-a-day introductory course!

Jeff and I continue to talk about forming a grove of our own more in keeping with DOTR's style, and eventually he will decide to commit to joining DOTR as well. He's just not a very big group joiner in general, and not very keen on ritual - a bit too much Zen in him - he likes to just chase whatever interests him at the moment. I definitely feel that some in-person, real-life commitment and ritual work would be beneficial for me at this point, though, so maybe I can work on him. ;)

So that pretty much sums it up. Sorry this response is a bit rushed. Hopefully I'll have time a bit later today to sit down and go over things a bit more carefully. For now, have to run!

--Ali

Savanah's Year: My First Altar!

Savanah's First Altar!
(a purple candle in a glass, six-point star holder, an oyster shell full of water, a black volcanic rock for earth, and for air, an acorn cap that can be blown like a whistle; all sitting on top of her journal)

Savanah's Year: Calas of Earth, Week 2

So, of course, this week I was able to take some time and prepare a lesson plan for Savanah — and we barely had time to hold the actual lesson. We were late getting back from the library, where Jeff spent a lot of time talking to a librarian trying to find some more challenging books for Savanah (who is reading books slightly below her reading level at this point), and so we barely had half an hour for this week's lesson. What made this even more difficult was that Savanah forgot and/or lost her Druid journal and so spent a few panicked minutes looking for it before settling down with us. When we tried to go over her journal questions from last week, she admitted that she hadn't written down her answers but had only "thought about them." But getting her to give more complex answers than one or two words was like pulling teeth.

This is an issue that I suspect will keep coming up for us. As I said before, sometimes I'm at a loss as to how to ask questions in a way that will deepen the responses they evoke. Questions like "what kinds of things prevent us from appreciating our kinship with the earth?" seem really wonderful and full of complexity when I think about how I might answer them — but perhaps they are a bit too vague or too broad to elicit a response from a twelve year old. (Savanah's response was, "Money." When we prompted her further, she said, "Because people want money, and they have to do things that are bad for the earth in order to get money.") Or maybe it's not twelve year olds in general, but something more specific to Savanah and how she reasons. What I do know is that the word-matching exercises prompted a great deal of really insightful and interesting discussion, as she gave her reasons for her choices and explained her thought processes. So I know that she has some complexity of thought in her, it's just a matter of figuring out how to prompt her and getting her to articulate it on her own without so much prompting.

In any case, today's lesson was a bit rushed and there was a bit more of Jeff and I "lecturing" than of mutual discussion. We talked about the body as a scared landscape, the expression of our soul in the world; we also used the metaphor of the body as a work of art that the world and the soul are creating together through their interaction (which got her to ask a really intriguing question about whether genes and the "instructions of the body for how to grow" counted as part of the world or part of the self — see! a fantastic question!). We discussed the idea of the body being an instrument of the soul-song, and the reasons why it's so important to take care of the body by listening to its needs, giving it plenty of rest and exercise, feeding it well and not putting too much stress (physically or emotionally) on it. She seemed less engaged with this conversation, even a bit intimidated by it. I tried to talk a little bit about why these things were important, and how as she grows older she will sometimes find that other people put pressure on her to ignore her body and its needs and take it for granted or treat it as a tool or an object, and how it is important for her to be able to make decisions about her body from a place of strength and love, knowing how to honor her body as a sacred home for her soul and an expression of her self. I'm not sure how much of this meant anything to her, and how much of it was over her head. I hope some of it will sink in or stick for her to at least remember in the future.

Because we'll be missing next weekend with her because of Thanksgiving, we wanted to give her some extra assignments to do over the course of two weeks. So in addition to two more journaling questions, I made up some more elemental exercises similar to the word-matching exercises.These involve brainstorming images, symbols, plants, animals and places and mapping them onto a wheel of the elements (earth, air, fire and water placed in on the top, right, bottom and left of a circle and connected by lines intersecting through the middle of the circle). The third exercise asked her to use the images, creatures and places from the previous two and try to write a story about a character going on a "journey through the elements" around the circle, meeting different creatures and beings in different places and having different experiences along the way. I thought this might be a fun exercise that would get her imagination going and give her some room to play and be creative...

I was totally wrong. About half an hour after Jeff returned from dropping off the kids, Emily called to say Savanah was up in her room crying because of her Druid assignment. She put Savanah on the phone and Jeff talked to her about what was wrong — apparently, she was feeling very intimidated by the assignment to write the story and was worried she couldn't do it (well, she outright stated that she knew she couldn't do it). So we talked about it with her and what she might like to do instead, and came to a compromise — she'll be drawing pictures for each of the elements based on her word associations and brainstorming. Jeff and I are hoping that perhaps we can work up to the story-telling, maybe having her do one section of it as part of the review for each of the elements after the three months of work for each one. Or perhaps we can come up with some other kind of large project that she can slowly build over time, incorporating writing and drawing and other forms of self-expression.

What does concern me a little bit is the fact that she felt so intimidated by the assignment. Granted, I don't have a lot of experience with pre-teens and all, but I didn't think the story-telling exercise was that far beyond her and I know she's tried to do some writing in the past. So I'm surprised by her reaction (though Jeff seems to think it was at least in part because she was feeling tired and rushed, and maybe she'll feel more confident about it tomorrow or as the week goes on). But coupled with our trip to the library, where she picked out books that were a reading level down from where she probably should be at (and not because she can't read harder books, I think, but just because those books were a series she enjoyed).... it makes me wonder a bit if she's being challenged enough by homeschooling. She has three younger siblings that her mother is also trying to teach at the same time, after all. Jeff and I were trying to remember the types of school assignments we had at her age, and both of us seem to recall much harder assignments than a simple story-writing exercise with two full weeks to complete it. Of course, both Jeff and I are writers at heart, and we're very much aware of not wanting to push our passions onto her. (That's why I suggested the alternative of drawing some pictures — she seems much more into the drawing, and has been working slowly through a book of mine about how to draw whenever she's over at our place.) On the other hand, writing is such an essential skill for almost all walks of life, and if her reaction to an assignment like this one is to get so upset, it really does make me worry about her eventually confronting challenges in school will not go very well. Emily seemed a bit annoyed that we "made her cry".... which is, granted, a mother's natural reaction and we certainly felt bad about it. At the same time, this year is about teaching her how to confront those challenges and even the ups and downs of her own emotions and to be okay in learning how to deal with them in healthy ways. So I think working up to a story-writing project, and having her work through her fears that she "can't do it," will both be good for her.

This is good learning experience for me, trying to figure out what kind of pace to move at. I'm sure it will be different with the other kids, too, which is why I want to take notes on all of this and be able to compare notes in future years. So, all in all, a rushed lesson this week but still hopefully not a waste. Next week the kids will be out of town for Thanksgiving family visits, and then the week after that we'll have them back and Savanah's next lesson in Calas of Earth will be thinking about her home environment and living space as sacred. So we'll see how that goes (and I have plenty of time to both prepare that week's lesson and finish the full outline of the months and weeks to come).

Savanah's Year: Calas of Earth, Week 1

Just finished this week's lesson with Savanah, which went very well despite her having a pretty icky head cold.

To begin, we went over her "homework" from the previous week, matching up different associations and words for the four classical elements of Earth, Air, Fire and Water and the three Druidic "elements" or aspects of Calas, Gwyar and Nwyfre. Surprisingly, she did better on the three aspects than on the four elements, although I think most people assume the four elements are more widely-known and more natural for people. We spent a lot of time talking about what mistakes she made with the associations with the four elements and what her reasoning was. Sometimes her thoughts were very sound (matching "east" with water and "west" with air because, where we live, the ocean is towards the east and our winds and weather come from the west), and other times they made less sense (matching "salmon" with air instead of water). She's already doing some really excellent work, though, in thinking things through and understanding how to make the associations and connections, though. For instance, her reasoning for putting salmon with air was because she knew air and "intellect" matched up and she remembered the Celtic tale of the Salmon of Wisdom, so she connected the salmon with intelligence. This gave us the opportunity to talk about "wisdom" and "intelligence" and ways in which they might be different; we discussed how a "wisdom of the heart" understands and appreciates the connections and relationships between things, and how patterns of relationship flow into one another. Not all wisdom is the impersonal calculations and measuring of the intellect, but each has their place.

So in general, that exercise went very well and opened up a lot of opportunities for discussion, which was fantastic. I think Savanah is really into the work so far and has a lot to say about her own thought processes, and her own worries. We moved on to this week's work, which was Week 1 of "Calas of Earth," in which we began by talking about the basic foundation of our spirituality as rooted in the sacred earth and a reverence for the five senses and the physical world around us. The nature of calas as "form" which gives rise to relationship, and thus to boundaries and limits and the importance of negotiating these with honor and love, brought up her anxieties about not knowing what "her calas" was yet, and so worrying that she might not know how to engage with others'. That's fantastic! I mean, of course she doesn't know all of her talents, gifts and limitations yet, but this year is in part about finding out what those are, and learning what our relationships with others and with the natural world can teach us about our own "calas," our own form in this world.

Her "assignment" for this coming week is to spend some time thinking about, talking to and listening to her (rather extensive) plant collection, and to journal about her relationship with the creatures, plants and people in her life. She also has two questions to answer: what kinds of things can interfere with our ability to appreciate the natural world, and what kinds of limits do we as human beings experience when trying to live honorably and in harmony with the natural world? I'm really looking forward to next week's lesson and hearing some of her thoughts on these topics.

Savanah's Year

We just finished our first official lesson with Savanah for her "Year of Druidry," and I'd decided previously that I wanted to try to take notes and keep a record of how things go. So here goes.

She seemed both excited and a bit intimidated, though she brightened up when I told her she would be allowed to light the candle at the beginning of every lesson (a red pillar candle that we'll leave burning during each lesson — the red and the fire both seem appropriately symbolic of the fiery, passionate energy of puberty and adolescence that she'll be entering). We began today's lesson by talking a bit about her Tarot Deck, our gift to her for her twelfth birthday a couple weeks ago. Along with the deck, we gave her three "assignments" to complete before her next weekend with us: pick out her favorite card, pick out her least favorite card, and pick a card that represents "what she wants to be when she grows up." Then spend some time journaling about the reasons for each of her choices.

I think it's appropriate to keep her choices private, so I won't discuss them here. But it was quite surprising what she chose and I may want to do some meditation on her choices over the next week (or month, or year) to explore some of their potential meaning. What was most obvious was that she chose cards based on who the figures reminder her of in her own life. One card reminded her a a friend's mother, another because it reminded her of Jeff.

One thing I have realized is that working with a girl Savanah's age, I may need to get more creative (and more literal, or specific?) in the kinds of questions I ask. Jeff participated in this lesson with us, and he seemed very good at asking Savanah questions that got her thinking or responding (whereas once or twice, I actually accidentally interrupted her, not realizing she was done with her response). I tried to ask questions such as, "What about the card do you like?" But that question seemed too broad and she would struggle to answer. Jeff would ask questions like, "Is the figure alone, or with people? What do you think the person in the card is thinking about? What is important to that person?" Sometimes these questions got "I don't know" responses, but more often Savanah seemed to know or at least have an idea or a guess. This strikes me as very interesting — almost as though, at her age, she still doesn't have as much self-awareness as she has awareness of others. One of our goals with this year of work is to help her foster some self-awareness, to cultivate her inner life so that she can seek that foundation as she gets older and has more independent interaction with peers. I have a feeling this will be a challenge for Savanah the way it might not be for some of the other kids.

After discussing the Tarot cards, we used the suits as a jumping off point to talk about the four elements of earth, air, fire and water. We were able to point out how we used each of these elements in our Samhain family ritual last night — a candle for fire, a bowl of water, incense for air and bird seed for earth. I talked a bit about the elements as being "building blocks" that make up the world we live in, and how we can use them as symbols for things that might be more difficult to pin down when we want to prayer, meditate, do ritual or magic or talk to our gods. Cu Gwyn, who was prowling around during the lesson, became an example of how we might symbolize his playful, energetic personality with "fire" and so choose a candle to represent him in a prayer or ritual. We did some brief discussion about the basic correspondences, and then I gave her a word matching exercise, with a list of about thirty words (directions, seasons, times of day, colors, animals, etc.) to match up each with one of the four elements.

We then very briefly talked about the three "Druidic elements," or as I like to call them, the three aspects or qualities: calas, gwyar and nwyfre. We talked a bit about how they matched up with the three realms of land, sea and sky (which she figured out based on the literal translations of the Welsh words), and then some other qualities that might match up well with each. We gave her a similar word-matching exercise to do for the three aspects.

Although she may not get all of the correspondences right just by guessing (and using her Tarot deck to look for hints in the imagery and symbolism), hopefully it will get her thinking in the right way about how the elements and aspects function as symbols or paths of the sacred. Also, it gives her a very basic starting place for how the year of study will be organized (we'll be devoting one month to each aspect of each element — so, f'ex, month one will be calas of earth, month two will be gwyar of earth, month three nwyfre of earth, then calas, gwyar and nwyfre of water, etc.). She doesn't have to have the correspondences memorized right now, because she'll be growing familiar with them as the year goes on, but it will give her some simple "tools," a framework in which to organize the following lessons. That's the hope anyway.

Next week's lesson, we'll start with Calas of Earth, taking a month to look at the foundations of Druidry expressed through an awareness of the sacredness of physical forms (spending a week each on the natural world, our own bodies, our home and living space, etc.). I hope to spend some time in meditation and preparation before next week's lesson, instead of feeling rushed like I did this week. Hopefully I'll be able to do some simple divination as well.