Days of Note: Flamekeeping, Pilgrimage to the Angel Oak
Sun: gemini (mutable air), 6:15am - 8:19pm (Summerville, SC)
Moon: waning crescent, pisces (mutable water), VOC (through tomorrow evening)
Earth: another hot, sunny day down in South Carolina, with the air thick and muggy and a possible thunderstorm this afternoon (we can only hope); even when the sun is high, the sunlight is not the clear, bright sunlight of farther north, but a damper, heavier, somehow darker kind of light through which everything seems hazy - or perhaps it's only that even in the shade the heat dominates, so that nowhere is safe from the sunlight
Brigid always has a trick up her sleeve for me, it seems. I now have a Brigid's Cross burned between my breasts… or to be more precise, a pale uneven-cross of skin surrounded by the red-pink of sunburn. Last night at sundown when I began my Flamekeeping shift, I asked her to accept the gold Brigid's Cross pendant I always wear as a symbol of her flame because I could not keep a physical flame for her during this shift (even lighting a candle at all in our B&B room was technically not allowed, though I risked it for half an hour for my opening rite). The handmade flame pendant I usually wear is back home, embedded in wax where my usual Flamekeeping candle spilled over into the offering dish without my noticing. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get it out again without ruining it, since it didn't have any kind of protective finish on it, but in any case it was too late to try to salvage it just then when I was packing. I'm not sure if the sunburn is a sign of acceptance or a light slap on the wrist for not being better prepared to travel-while-Keeping. In any case, it wasn't entirely unexpected, considering we were out on the beach without sunscreen during the most intense part of the day….
I'm feeling slightly scatter-brained at the moment, which I expect is mostly from the heat and general late-afternoon fatigue. Both mornings we've been here now, we've been up at dawn to do some yoga and then gone running in the surrounding neighborhood, coming back to the B&B to shower and have a delicious breakfast downstairs. We're the only people in the house right now, though there's a man in the cottage apartment out in the backyard (we haven't seen him yet, but we've seen his car in the drive). We basically have this entire gorgeous French-style southern mansion to ourselves, and it's absolutely lovely. Getting out early in the morning to go running while it's still relatively cool (in the 70s) has me feeling so completely energized and fantastic, I'm hoping I can hold on to that habit when we get back home. Yesterday morning after a shower and breakfast, I spent some time in the lush, steamy garden in the back of the house while Jeff got some work done on the computer inside. I spent time in meditation sitting on a stone bench by one of the small fountains (guarded by a small moss-covered frog and a statue of the Amitabha Buddha).
This morning, though I was technically on Flamekeeping shift, I held off on my morning meditation because right after breakfast we made the hour-long drive to John's Island to see the Angel Oak tree. Last year we visited the tree on Earth Day in April, in the early evening just as the sun was in its golden hour (and the trip also happened to be during a Flamekeeping shift!). This year, we made it to the oak by mid-morning and again the sunlight was all golden and soft through the branches. There was hardly anyone around, and so Jeff and I split up and found spots to sit near the tree to do some meditation. The same feeling I had last year — of immensity and power and life-force emanating from the tree enough to make my heart quicken — was there again this morning. I noticed that the other tourists who wandered up to see the tree during our time there all had a tendency to lower their voices to a whisper, as if out of respect, and there was a natural hush about the place. Even though it's a tourist attraction now, it's hard for me to believe that it's not also a sacred place of power in spite of that. Even the way people arrived, a couple at a time but in a steady stream so that there was almost always at least one person around, a new person arriving just as the other was leaving, though you couldn't ever say the place was busy, and always it had that same hush and quiet and presence to it…. it almost seemed as though the tree were drawing people to it, few by few, like pilgrims attending to it, murmuring appreciative prayers of awe and praise. To sit under the tree for any length of time and watch this process was amazing, and just as it did last year, it left me with this strange sense that the tree was a sacred center or power or
axis mundi around which the rest of the world turned, with us little humans coming to stand tiny at its feet and arrange our lives like love-worn dolls….
When we first arrived, a couple with a young toddler were just leaving and for a time we had the place all to ourselves. I sat at the base of the tree while Jeff wandered off somewhere else, and I sat in meditation for twenty minutes or so. First just breathing my awens and allowing myself to relax into the energy and presence of the place, then reaching out to perform (my version of) the DOTR Three Realms workings. The Tree as center and bridge between the watery depths of soul and the celestial heights of spirit was especially effective when I could feel the vast trunk of the Angel Oak behind me, lending support to my spine. During this meditation, my sense of grounding was so powerful, I felt as though I could sit there forever, still and unmoving, so solidly was I rooted in the earth. It's one of the most effective grounding experiences I've had in recent memory. I also experimented with Erynn Rowan Laurie's take on the Three Cauldrons meditation - though I used different hand gestures adapted from the "peace sign" meditation I'd been working on (with both hands placed on the ground to either side, then raised to the center in a namaste/prayer position, then raised up again — in this way, the gestures not only mimic a transformation of the peace sign from despair to rejoicing, but they also echo the Awen symbol in both invoking and evoking form).
A side note: part of me feels bad that I feel such an urge to adapt and change the practices I learn from others. Often the people teaching these techniques will say that they can be adapted or changed to suit personal approaches… but I often feel like this is more an attempt to be tolerant of diversity, and not really a whole-hearted encouragement to actually go about changing things. I do want to trust that certain ritual techniques have stood the test of time and have something to teach me… but it was easier to trust this way in Catholic rituals which really were hundreds, even thousands of years old. Druidry (and Paganism generally) is still so new, and there's a lot of variation in technique. I see similarities between different types of meditations and energy work that I can't overlook, and so these end up blending together in my practice to create rites and gestures that make sense to me. The way I perform a Three Realm Working is derived in part from Orion Foxwood's exercising in connecting to the local land (I forget its name at the moment), in which the "streams" from below and above are joined in the heart. It seems the Three Realms working is also similar to the ADF Two Powers meditation…. except in the Three Realms (both in the DOTR version and my adaptation) there is a blending of the two energies to create or express a third. I never quite understood why a tradition like ADF, with such emphasis on the three realms, the three hallows and other triads, would have a fundamentally dualistic meditative practice as a core technique…. connecting Earth and Sky, but where is Sea in this? This is the same trouble I had with the three Druidic elements in their relation to the four classical elements. If you can arbitrarily drop or add an aspect to a system, then it wasn't a stable or complete system to begin with. In the Three Realms, Land, Sea and Sky seem all to be of equal importance and significance…. and simply dropping Sea and connecting only to the other two doesn't make much sense to me. Similarly, dropping (or combining) Fire and Air from the four classical elements to get the three Druidic elements — as though they were nearly interchangeable otherwise — is deeply dissatisfying to me. So I have to figure out a way to make that change.
On the other hand, Erynn Rowan Laurie's Three Cauldron's meditation makes a lot of sense to me, with the Cauldron of Warming (being associated with the realm of land/earth and the Druidic element/principle of calas) the lowest of the three, the Cauldron of Motion (sea/gwyar) near the heart, and the Cauldron of Wisdom (sky/nwyfre) near the head/crown/third eye. This makes intuitive sense to me, and aligns pretty well with both T. Thorn Coyle's "three souls" meditation and with my Peace of the Three Realms meditation that I developed a few years ago (in which each of the… let's call them "cauldrons," though I originally called them simply "centers," are infused specifically with energies from the Three Realms in a kind of rippling out/up of energy). I don't have any struggle in figuring out why, during the Three Realms working, gwyar/sea is "below" and calas/land/tree in the center, while in the Three Cauldrons working this is reversed. It just… makes sense to me that way. Perhaps because the Three Realms working is a kind of orientation, connecting us with the Tree as
axis mundi and bridge of soul and spirit… while the Three Cauldrons/Peace of the Realms practices are more about activating our own ("internal") energy centers. With this inner work, we naturally start from a "base line" of calas, the realm of land that we're so used to and probably most immediately connected to through our physical senses. From there, we kind of "drop" into the gwyar/emotional center of movement and exchange — that is, our experience of form and limit naturally gives rise to an urge to connect, and this is a kind of deepening at the same time that it's a rising up…. almost as though our heart calls our attention to it precisely at that moment when it is spilling over — we are called inward at the same time that we feel the ache of going outward. The final center of nwyfre/wisdom is an ascent to pure force and initiative, as well as breath. Both boundaries and the interweaving or connection of those boundaries are overcome or swept up in the unity of "oneness," to some extent.
I'm not at all convinced this makes much sense… I'll have to keep playing with these ideas. In any case, I'd like to find a way to integrate the Peace Prayer practice with the Three Realms working (and the Three Cauldrons practice as well, perhaps) in a way that leads naturally from one into the other without having to drastically altar the energies I'm working with for each one. ADF describes the Two Powers practice as like to "grounding and centering." I'm not sure which one people traditionally do first among other Wiccan/Pagan groups… but I always understood that centering was the first step (a kind of inward turning and cultivation of stillness and attention that was the prerequisite for any meditative work) and grounding was the second step, a moving outward again from that established center to "ground" that center in the living earth, as though planting a seed, or the moment when that seed germinates and sends out roots. In any case, it always seemed to me an inward/outward movement of focus, rather than an up/down focus the way the Earth/Sky approach suggests. In my own practice, I've gotten so used to centering and grounding that I hardly notice it as an initial step before my other meditation work. I center through some meditative breathing, cultivating a stillness between breaths (which the awen breath can be particularly helpful for), and then reach out to ground myself in the earth and further open myself to the living presences around me. In this sense, then, centering/grounding is a first step, and the natural next step after grounding (reaching out to the earth surrounding me — for we do not only live "on" the earth, but more precisely we live
in it, surrounded by its landscapes and climates) is to begin (
my version of) the DOTR Three Realms working. When we ground, like a tree putting down roots and sending up shoots, we are not seeking merely earth beneath us… we are seeking the water and the exchange of nutrients below, and the sunlight and air that fuels us from above. These we transform into the living matter of our bodies. So the Three Realms working is a natural follow-up to the centering/grounding opening work.
In that case, then, the Peace of the Realms and the Three Cauldrons meditations are not so much about who we are or where we locate/orient ourselves in the currents of the world… but more about what we
do in the world, how we approach our activity. Once we center and ground ourselves in our enspirited-bodies, then what is it we do with those bodies? Finding our foundation, cultivating our work and releasing our love-guided efforts into the world (or warming, motion and wisdom) are the three processes or activities we undertake. They may have affinities with the Three Realms… but they are not merely equivalent. Which is why the Peace of the Three Realms actually "activates" each of the three realms or their currents/elements/principles in each of the three activity centers. So if this is the case.. then a natural order to the practices would be: starting with centering and grounding, then the Three Realms working to orient and establish our selves within the three realms of the world, then the Three Cauldrons meditation to "activate" or energize the three "centers" or cauldrons within the self, then the Peace of the Three Realms prayer to articulate and express the purpose towards which those three center of activity might be directed.
I'll have to experiment with this order to see how it works in practice as well as in theory… but I'm actually quite pleased with this approach. It makes some gut-level sense to me, and incorporates at least some sources of legitimate ancient Celtic culture. I would want to read more about the Cauldron of Poesy text that Erynn Rowan Laurie mentions, if only to seek out some confirmation of this approach.
It seems to be almost 8 PM now and I've been writing for at least two hours…. I had more to talk about, but my shift is coming to an end, so I should probably wrap things up. I'm feeling especially tired and I should probably be sure to drink some more water and apply some more aloe gel to my burn so I'm not regretting my silliness in the morning.
It occurs to me that I forget to explain how I got the sunburn! After staying by the Angel Oak for an hour or two, we thought we would try to find the nearest public beach access, which ended up being Folly Beach. We spent about an hour strolling along the shore, feet in the warmest ocean water lapping up around our calves. Before finally returning to the car, I waded out deeper until I was standing in waters mid-thigh and waves were getting the hem of my sundress damp. By that point, though, I'd already been out long enough to get a burn on my shoulders and chest. We're thinking of going back to the beach tomorrow, after spending a morning in Charleston looking at all the ancient homes built right up on the shoreline by slave labor (Jeff's love of this beautiful human tragedy reminds me of that Doctor Who episode, Blink: "Sad is like happy for deep people.")
We'll see. Tomorrow we're taking a day off from running, though we're hoping to still do some sun salutations to great the new day. It's Jeff's birthday, so we'll have an official day off to do whatever we want before heading back to Pittsburgh on Friday. I may or may not have a chance to write again before we get back home. We'll see.
