End of Month Letter to Mentor

B--,

So I figured I should be a bit of a better Aspirant and actually send my mentor updates every once in a while, so I thought end-of-the-month wrap-ups might be good.

I'm currently working through Lesson 4: Air, and nearing the end. My approach to the next four lessons (for the four elements) is likely to be haphazard and jumbled because of my various personal studies and also scheduling. For instance, this month for Jeff's birthday we made a trip down to South Carolina to visit the Angel Oak and spend an afternoon at the beach — so I had an opportunity to do some fairly intense meditative work with the elements of Earth and Water (and, thanks to the sun, the heat and my Flamekeeping shift with the Brigidine Cill I belong to, Fire as well) in addition to my Air work. I'm also still working through my understanding of the Three Realms and the three Druidic elements/principles on my own and developing a more in-depth regular meditative practice around them.

That's something I actually wanted to ask you about. I'm finding, the more I work with the Three Realms meditation, the more I'm feeling a need to diverge from the current way it's laid out by DOTR. Connecting to the Land below and the Sky above, with Sea in the middle, isn't jiving for me. Though I understand the reasoning behind it, I find that I am much more drawn to placing the Sea below, with the Sky above, and the Land as the "bridge" connecting the two, symbolized especially by the Tree, the bilé or axis mundi, which reaches its roots down seeking water and reaches its branches up seeking air and light.

This layout resonates for me on a lot of levels. Mystically or mytho-poetically, the Sky and Sea are both realms of vastness, interconnection and blurred boundaries, realms in which the self can be "swept up" into an experience of union with something beyond and bigger — while the Land is the realm of matter and form and individuality, where the two realms of Sea and Sky, which are in many ways opposites, are brought into relationship which each other and made manifest in a concrete way unique to each being and place. While the Sea has symbolic associations with depths, memory, the past and the Underworld/Otherworld of the ancestors, the Sky has associations with heights, aspiration, the future and the celestial Heaven/Otherworld of the gods — while the Land is the concrete, experiential world of the present, with all the particular spirits of the land that dwell between Sea and Sky. There's even some echoes in psychology — the Sea of emotions and the Sky of the intellect both expressed through the physical body (Land), or the Sea as the unconscious or id and the Sky as the "higher" consciousness or superego being navigated and kept in balance by the mundane consciousness of the ego (Land). All of these examples are not exactly done justice by trying to fit them into a linear model of below, above and center... but generally, if that's roughly what you're going for, the Sea below and Sky above is making more sense to me.

In addition, the two gods I work with most closely and who I feel have "claimed" me to some extent are Brigid, particularly in her solar/stellar aspect, and Manannan, son of the sea, so that the Three Realms working with the Sea below and the Sky above also feels like a rightful way of acknowledging and inviting the blessings of my gods into my life (the Land or bridge that connects them, and through which I express their influence and energies in a concrete way for those around me).

So I was hoping for your feedback on this issue of changing the DOTR practice. I'm worried it'll put me out of sync with others in the Order, so I wanted to seek some clarification from you about just how central or essential it is to work with the Three Realms in the way specified in the Aspirant Lessons. I also would like to write up my version of the Three Realms working along with an explanation (in a more coherent form than this letter!) to share on the DOTR group blog eventually.

Other than that, here's a brief run-down of what else I've been doing over the last month:

- Astrology : I've been working through some texts on astrology and have started a process of in-depth, holistic analysis of my own natal chart (you can read the results so far here, here and here). I plan to continue that work in months to come, including picking up Arroyo's book on astrology and the four elements, as I think I mentioned to you already.

- Ogam : I read through Erynn Rowan Laurie's book on the ogam and plan to start working through the aicme again using flash cards to reacquaint myself with them (since it's been years since I tried working with them, and my experience with Tarot in the meantime has given me a lot more practice and grounding in the basics of divination). Erynn's writing about the three "currents" of ogam gave me a lot to think about in relation to the issue of the Three Realms.

- Work with Manannan : I've been doing some meditation and dream-work to cultivate my relationship with Manannan, which I talk about a little bit in my DOTR Aspirant blog. I've also been discussing ideas with a few others on a Pagan forum I visit who work with both Brigid and Manannan on developing some spiritual practices to understand the relationship between them.

- "Sapling" Work with Savanah : Jeff and I have continued to work with Savanah, Jeff's oldest daughter, on her year-long "Druidry for Teens" study course that we developed for her. This month, we were focusing on poetry, story and mythology as ways of connecting to our ancestors and the past (as well as preserving memory for the future), and exploring dreams and divination as ways of connecting to the gods and to our own subconscious mind through the use of symbolism and imagination.

- Justice, Nature and Identity : I've written about issues of justice and peacemaking on my personal website as well as over on Pagan+Politics, and I've been tangentially involved in the on-going debate about Pagan identity through my post on Pagan Coming Out Day and my essay on Religious Branding. I also wrote a piece on the importance of connecting to the natural world and the sacred land in this "Digital Age," and shared some of my nature photography on my website.

Wow! I'm kind of impressed at how much I got done this month! Needless to say, my wedding is coming up soon, so it's unlikely I'll have as much to report at the end of June. :)

I'd love to hear your feedback on this letter or any of the posts on my DOTR Aspirant blog.

Many blessings,
Ali

Pilgrimage to the Angel Oak (and Folly Beach)

I didn't have my camera out very much during this trip (except for this first one, a photograph of the Angel Oak I took before we left), but there were a few occasions when Jeff snuck a few quick shots of me.



The Angel Oak







Me in meditation beneath the Angel Oak, performing the DOTR Three Realms Working (my version, with the Tree as bridge).







At the beach on Jeff's birthday — a few pictures of me enjoying a rare chance to swim in the ocean. (I couldn't see anything because I couldn't wear my glasses!) Apparently, I was out in the water for more than an hour.

Diary - Pilgrimage

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.

Astrology of Me: Natal Chart Analysis (Part 2)

Days of Note: Flamekeeping (begins at sundown), pilgrimage to the Angel Oak

Sun: gemini (mutable air), 6:16am - 8:18pm
Moon: last quarter, pisces (mutable water)
Earth: hot and sunny, we're down in Summerville, South Carolina (near Charleston) staying in a lovely French B&B to visit the old Angel Oak; everything here lush and green and muggy

Based on Stephen Arroyo's Outline of Chart Interpretation

II. The Main Components of the Chart Structure

§A Patterns Using the Astrological Alphabet

Using the 12-letter "Astrological Alphabet" (p.176) to examine the signs and houses of each of the planets as well as the important aspects (5º orb) among the planets, three themes emerge as having particular emphasis.

The first is a triple emphasis on the relationship between Letter 1 and Letter 8 — Mars in the 8th house trine Pluto in the 1st house. Here Mars (1) is in close aspect with Pluto (8), with Mars (1) in the 8th house (8) and Pluto (8) in the 1st house (1). I'm not exactly sure what this theme means, but it's actually the example he uses in the book, where he explains that "the expression of Mars energy will be powerfully characterized by Plutonian qualities." Mars is characterized generally as desire, will-power or will to action, initiative and physical energy, and describes what kinds of energy we use to assert ourselves and what will drive us and give us energy. Pluto is characterized by transformation, transmutation, rebirth and intense focus. Both planets have strong associations with courage, desire and the way we exert our will. The "toning" of Mars with Plutonian energy suggests that I seek to assert myself and my will by turning my focus inward to bring about personal transformation (rather than directing it outwards against others, perhaps?) and that I also feel energized physically by intense, transformative experiences (maybe this relates to my approach to physical exercise as well?).

Tompkins describes the Mars-Pluto aspect as being about a "fight for survival" that can express itself as an intense (but sometimes hidden) competitive nature, either directed outwards in competition with others or turned inwards in competition with the self. There is also some suggestion of associations with both buried rage and buried sexuality (Pluto having a "burying" effect on the aggressive and/or sexual energies of Mars), which can express itself either in repressed anger or passion sublimated as passive aggressiveness or manipulation, or a focus on the "darker" aspects of self and society that others would rather be buried and denied. Tompkins focuses mostly on hard/challenging aspects between the two; the fact that Mars trines Pluto in my chart may indicate that I have an easier time facing the "dark side" of passion and aggression, that I am better able to accept and acknowledge the violence, competitiveness and sexuality in my nature than someone with a challenging aspect. (On the other hand, this might mean that I will tend to take for granted that aggression or sexuality will be "buried" — which might explain why, to some extent, I am prudishly uncomfortable with public flaunting of sexuality or socially condoned forms of violence, expecting them to be reined in or restrained even while acknowledging those forces as inherent aspects of ourselves. A trine might suggest that I take for granted this kind of "burying" or sublimating of aggressive/sexual passions because it comes fairly easily to me.)(N.B. On this last parenthetical bit: Jeff doesn't think so. Maybe he will leave a comment explaining his take in detail… hint hint.)

There is also a double emphasis on the relationship between Letter 1 and Letter 10 (Saturn in the 1st house trine Mars), which is no real surprise since Saturn and Pluto are in such close conjunction in my chart that they tend to act almost as a single influence. In this case, Saturn (10) is in close trine aspect with Mars (1), and Saturn (10) is also in the 1st house (1). In this case, then, the Mars energies of desire, will-power, activity and physical energy will be toned or influenced by the Saturnian characteristics of effort, integrity, authority, (self-)discipline, responsibilities and patience. Both planets have connections to how we assert ourselves and our will — Mars through passion and initiative, Saturn through concentrated effort and diligence over time. This theme may suggest that I seek to assert myself through disciplined effort and that I connect this effort with my sense of personal integrity, taking on responsibilities and expecting my work to earn me a certain amount of authority. In turn, it may suggest that I feel energized and spurred to action when I am put into situations that demand patience, diligence and the shouldering of responsibilities.

Tompkins, as usual, says so much about the Mars-Saturn aspect that it's hard to distill and clarify the main thrust of the relationship. There are some influences echoing those of Mars-Pluto (likely to be especially important considering Saturn's close conjunction with Pluto in my chart), in particular a certain ambivalent attitude towards both violence/rage and passion/sexuality — in this case, these energies are not "buried" as with Pluto, so much as brought under tighter control. (Arroyo suggests that Saturn can cause blocks precisely because these areas are of particular importance or weight to a person, like trying to force too much water through too tight an opening.) The Mars-Saturn relationship also suggests conflicts concerned with or about authority, either fighting on behalf of authority or struggling against authority. As with Pluto, however, the Mars-Saturn aspect can indicate the ability to bring great passion, energy and courage and direct them towards a particular aim — rather than the transformation of Pluto, in this case Saturn's urges towards integrity, responsibility and discipline — and in doing so, accomplish great things. Again, because the Mars-Saturn aspect is a trine in my chart, there's an indication that this kind of concerted effort and discipline may come naturally to me, that I am able to deftly handle the balance between impulse and discipline, assertiveness and control, fear and courage. (This may also reflect my tendency to "go overboard" when I set myself a particular task, channeling a great deal of energy and activity into the chosen are of hard work — for instance, I'm starting to think I may be overdoing it a bit with this chart analysis!) Interestingly, Tompkins connects the Mars-Saturn aspect with tasks that require a lot of discipline and control along with physical strength and effort — among these, she mentions blacksmithing, one of the three skills ruled over by Brigid. The connection between smithcraft and transmutation/transformation found in Her nature may reflect to some extent Mars trine Saturn-Pluto in my chart. (I want to come back later to this issue of what insights astrology might be able to give us into our gods.)

The last theme is a double emphasis on the relationship between Letter 9 and Letter 11 — Uranus in Sagittarius conjunct Jupiter. Here, Jupiter (9) is in close aspect with Uranus (11), while Uranus (11) is in Sagittarius (9). This suggests that Jupiter will be influenced by the energies of Uranus, while Uranus is also tempered and toned by the energies of Jupiter (ruler of Sagittarius). Jupiter is characterized by grace, expansion/expansiveness, trust and faith in a larger order or meaning, and its influence describes how we strive to grow, improve ourselves and where we seek confidence and our sense of grace. Uranus is characterized by freedom, independence, experimentation, originality and creativity, and describes how we differentiate ourselves from others and establish our uniqueness and individuality. The Jupiter-Uranus relationship suggests that my faith and experience of grace will be charged with a sense of freedom and affirmation of my individuality, and I may express this faith in unconventional or experimental ways. There is also a sense that the urge towards originality and creativity will be expansive and pervasive in my life.

Tompkins suggests that the Jupiter-Uranus aspect is defined largely by its tendency towards radical, fringe or unorthodox religious and/or political traditions and beliefs. This results from the relationship between faith, associated with Jupiter, and Uranus's association with truth. In this aspect, there is an urge to bring faith and the search for meaning into closer alignment or attunement with truth (as opposed to allowing the need for faith to overrule truth, as in fundamentalism, or the search for truth to undermine faith, as in nihilism/cynicism, I guess?). This aspect also reflects the importance of seeking faith in "personal truths" and often involved resisting or leaving a mainstream or orthodox religious or political tradition. There's not much more to elaborate on here, since this pretty much nails it. My choice to leave Catholicism (with its emphasis on tradition and the authority of the Church) and my involvement in Paganism (with its emphasis on plurality, diversity, freedom and creativity, especially creative ritual) reflect this theme strongly.

Further notes: What's especially interesting to me is that among these three themes emphasized in my chart, the last and arguably least emphasized is the one that is easiest for me to recognize and identify in my own life. This may have something to do with the fact that the aspect is a conjunction that falls within the sign ruled by one of the planets — and that this entire configuration is in the most important, exact and powerful opposition in my entire chart (with Mercury)… perhaps setting up a situation in which these energies are strong and obvious to me as something I have had to grapple with and articulate. The themes expressed in Saturn's and Pluto's trines with Mars are more difficult to pin down, their expressions in my life not so obvious… and this might have to do with the nature of the trine aspect as "soft" or easy, something that does not present a particular challenge and so can be to some extent taken for granted. Since these involve Saturn, however, I do want to examine these themes in more depth, especially as I approach my Saturn Return.


§B Dominant Aspects and Major Configurations

Much of this I already covered in the first part of my analysis, looking at the overall pattern of the chart as a whole. I noted the emphasis on the Gemini-Sagittarius opposition (strengthened by both Mercury and Jupiter falling within their ruling signs, as well as Mercury's exact opposition Uranus and the Sun's near-exact opposition Neptune). There is also a less powerful emphasis on the trine relationship between Gemini and Libra.

I do not have any dominant aspects (such as Grand Trines or T-Squares) in my chart, but I do have three different "groupings" of planets that could arguably be stelliums (depending on the orb). The first and probably most powerful falls within Gemini and involves the conjunction of my Sun and Mars with Mercury close by within the same sign. The second involves the conjunction of Saturn and Pluto with my Ascendent (with the Moon nearby in the same sign) in Libra. The third is Jupiter conjunct Uranus with Neptune nearby in the sign of Sagittarius. The Gemini stellium falls (very) roughly in my 8th house, while the Sagittarius stellium falls (again, very) roughly in my 2nd house; the stellium involving my Ascendent falls primarily within my 1st house but seems to kind of rope in my Moon in the 12th house.

Jeff described the 8th house to me once as the house of "sex, death and initiation" — all things that deal with power and transformation. Arroyo describes this house (a water house) as one of yearning and seeking after security for the soul, possibly through discovering the deepest laws of life (sex and death being two of the most powerful and most essential) as a stable foundation upon which to build a sense of inner peace. Occult studies are also considered to be related tot his house for similar reasons. A stellium in my 8th house (especially one that involves my Sun, though it's right on the cusp and technically in my 9th house) suggests a deep involvement in grappling with issues of power, passion and transformation, coming to terms with and finding peace through right relationship (or release from) desires and compulsions.

The 2nd house (an earth house) is one of material stability and security and might be characterized by a drive for an abundance of resources. This influence can expression itself through financial or material wealth, but is just as likely to involve an essential and deeply meaningful attunement with and appreciation of the natural world as a source of abundance, sustenance and support. A stellium involving a Jupiter-Uranus conjunction in my 2nd house goes even further to clarify my draw towards earth-centered spirituality, as my urge for stability and peace in the physical world is tied up with my sense of grace and trust in a deeper spiritual reality (as well as the desire for individuality and freedom).

I've already spent some time in-depth exploring the implications of Saturn and Pluto influenced by the Martian energies of the 1st house, and later in the analysis will be a particular focus on the Ascendent and any planets in close conjunction, so I'll forgo that analysis for now.

Savanah's Year: Nwyfre of Earth, Calas and Gwyar of Water

I thought my neglect of keeping notes on our lessons with Savanah was bad back in January, and it's been months since I last updated about our progress! Granted, partly that's because we haven't been able to have regular lessons with her for some of these weeks because of scheduling, work conferences, kids' recitals and so on. But for the past two weeks (last Sunday and today) we've been able to get back into it.

Our final week of Gwyar of Earth work, we focused on the seasonal cycle of the year and the relationship between the sun and the earth in creating the seasons. We spent quite a bit of time talking about the difference between the Fire Festivals and the Solar Festivals and how they embody different ways of relating to the sun, as well as comparing these holy days to the Wiccan sabbats and exploring the differences and similarities. We talked about the cycle of the seasons as a metaphor for birth, growth, maturity, death and rebirth both in the human life cycle and also in how we approach our goals and dreams, taking time to plan and prepare for each stage and doing work that reflects the needs and energies of that stage. For her journal, we asked her to label a diagram of the wheel of the year with the different holidays and write a little blurb about each of them. We also had her pick out two more objects for her altar: one representing the sun itself, and one representing the current season. (To be honest, it was so long ago that I can't remember which objects she chose. I do remember being very impressed by the intuitive nature of the object she chose for the sun, but can't for the life of me remember what it was.) For that week's activity, we asked her to do a creative project to symbolize the wheel of the year and the cycle of the seasons. She used a new Christmas gift to make a woven bracelet with different colored beads representing the four seasons.

During February, we moved on to Nwyfre of Earth and introduced Savanah to the basic practices of breath meditation, centering and grounding. We began by learning about the physical breath and how it connects us to the world around us in the most intimate and immediate way. We began to connect the idea of the physical breath with the sense of life-force and spirit expressed through the elemental principle of nwyfre, and discussed how the way we breathe (fast or slow, heavy or shallow, etc.) can give us insight into how we are feeling, and help us to calm down and feel better when we're feeling upset. We asked her to journal answers to some simple questions about the relationship between breath and self-awareness (the directed questions that provide a review of our conversations during the lesson are turning out to work really well), and for her activity we taught her the simple breath meditation of bringing focus to the physical sensations of your own breathing (as a first step towards more complex practices). The following week, we moved on to the practice of centering. We discussed the idea of our "spiritual center" as similar to your "center of balance" and talked about different techniques to use to help find your center, that "still place of peace" between breaths. Her activity for the week was to practice the centering meditation and answer some questions in her journal about what the practice was like, how it helped her or what made it seem difficult, etc. The following week, we moved on to grounding, with a brief meditation I wrote using a stone from her altar (as well as some Awen chanting — I feel a bit bad because we didn't take much time to actually talk about Awen itself, since she was already familiar with it from participating in Druid rituals in the past). We discussed how grounding provides us with a connection to both the realm of the gods and the "underworld" realm below us, like a try reaching our limbs into the sky seeking sunlight as well as reaching our roots down into the earth to find stability and nourishment. We talked about the idea of energy exchange, and how grounding can help us release anxiety or anger that is hindering or hurting us, as well as draw energy and support from the earth when we are feeling weak or tired. The grounding exercise was her activity for the week, with some more questions for journaling about the experience and how she felt about it.

Throughout March and April, for the most part we took a break from lessons. The stellium in Aries meant both Jeff and I were kind of going nuts with energy, and work and other commitments dominated our time so that weekends left us pretty wiped. We did have a chance towards the beginning to get into the next month of work, Calas of Water, which was dedicated to learning about communication, connection and emotion in different practices and beliefs of Druidry, specifically through the forms and structures of storytelling, mythology, poetry and music. The first week, we talked about ancient myths and fairytales and how they were used to pass on important ideas and information about the people and the land. We talked a little bit about how stories don't just give us information, but actually give us insight into a whole perspective or worldview. To demonstrate this, we asked Savanah for her weekly activity to choose a myth or fairytale she knew and rewrite it from the point of view of one of the minor characters. The next week, we didn't have time for a full lesson, but we did go over her work — her story was excellent, a retelling of the story about the boy who has to face a giant (I forget the name of it) told from the point of view of the bird he caught. Very creatively done!

Last week, we finally got back on track and combined the last two weeks of Calas of Water work to talk about poetry and music together. This worked out well and tied back into the work on mythology that we'd done previously (so it provided a good refresher) — we told the story of Amergin and the Milesians coming to Ireland and winning the land from the Tuatha de, and read her a (translated) version of the Song of Amergin where he sings to the land to praise and honor her. This provided an excellent example of the blurred lines between myth, poetry and music, and we talked about using "concrete sensory details" in power to give our language power and to evoke feelings and ideas without explaining them in the abstract. We then played her the song, "I Am," by the group Beltaine's Fire, which is a song both praising poetry and rhyme as tools for learning and memory, and also drawing on and re-imagines the Song of Amergin, providing another connection. I spent a lot of time talking about how the vibration of music in our bodies — especially when we sing together or dance to and play music — connects us in a very physical, literal way, making our bodies vibrate in harmony. (This idea seemed to impress Savanah quite a bit, because she asked me if I had memorized my "speech" or just knew it off the top of my head!)

This week we moved ahead into Gwyar of Water and our exploration of dreams, divination and visualization meditations as ways that we can communicate and connect with our subconscious mind, the gods, ancestors and spirits of the land. We'd asked Savanah to keep a dream journal for the past week, so we spent some time going over the dreams she remembered and what they might mean, how they made her feel, etc. We talked about dream interpretation more generally and how the subconscious mind often uses symbols, images and emotions to communicate indirectly, instead of spelling everything out for us logically and rationally. We talked a bit about how dreaming helps us to integrate our waking experiences more deeply into who we are (like water churned up by activity slowly settling and becoming clear again during a period of rest), and that's why we might have dreams about activities that are either new to us or dominated the time we were awake on a particular day.

We also discussed divination techniques and how they worked, using very similar images and symbolic associations as dreams do. (This was originally going to be week two for this month's lessons, but we won't be seeing them next weekend and we're still trying to play catch up, so in order to give her enough work to do during that extra week we decided to introduce the idea of divination now and continue to expand on it when we see her again). Savanah is still struggling to believe that she is capable of doing the work we ask her to do, and will panic (or exaggerate her anxiety) whenever we suggest something that might be a challenge — to overcome this during this lesson, I asked her to try to think of five different divination techniques that she knew of just from reading books and seeing movies and talking to people. Sure enough, she was quickly and easily able to list off five: tarot, runes, palm reading, tea leaves and crystal balls. We talked about how each of these techniques worked, what you did, and why that approach was able to put you in touch with your nonrational/subconscious mind (or the gods — I think when we return to this subject, we'll focus more on how the gods come into it). We also talked about the larger categories that these specific divination techniques fell into and what other types would be included (for instance, looking for shapes in clouds, entrails or even ugly wallpaper is similar to tea leaf reading; gazing into water or a black mirror or even a thumb nail is similar to using a crystal ball, ogham is similar to using runes, etc.).

For her activities for the next two weeks, we've made recordings of the centering/grounding exercise from the Nwyfre of Earth lessons for her to listen to, so that she can practice these meditation techniques each morning. Jeff also gave her a longer relaxation/visualization guided meditation to do next week before she goes to bed in the evening, to get her used to the technique of visualizing before we move on to the third week of this month's lesson. In addition, we've asked her to do three tarot readings using her tarot deck (asking whatever questions she wants and coming up with her interpretations of the cards before looking in the book for their "official" meanings). And lastly, we've asked her to keep on recording her dreams in her journal as well, and to answer a few journaling questions next week on any kinds of patterns that she notices about her dreams.

So the work is going well, really. Every time I go back over the general outline, I'm excited by how much cool stuff we're going to cover over the coming months. I also worry a little bit that it won't all sink in (for instance, discussions we have months ago about using grounding to help siphon off nervous energy are obviously not helping Savanah very much in controlling her panic at times!)… and I wonder if we're trying to do too much too fast. But I think in general it's important to give an overview so that she has some sense of how it all fits together and can go back and explore more in-depth on her own if she chooses to. Since it really is all connected and intertwined, any little bit that "sticks" can eventually lead her back to the rest… and since Jeff and I are pretty well-versed and deep in our practice, there are some lessons that we manage to impart over and over, themes that keep reappearing no matter what specific topic we're talking about. I think those themes are also influenced by Savanah's particular needs — for instance, listening continues to be a lesson we come back to again and again, noting how important it is to listen in order to connect, learn, show respect, calm ourselves and find our centers, and listen to the messages of our own bodies, emotions and minds. I don't think that Jerilynn, for instance, will need as much reminding about the importance of listening as her sister, who is incredibly talkative and active while Jerilynn tends to be quiet and inquisitive. But we may face other challenges with Jerilynn that we didn't with Savanah… it's hard to guess almost two years in advance. I really am looking forward to continuing this work with all the kids, and eventually working this material into a book (or two or three?) at some later point. And it's very good to spend this time one-on-one with Savanah — it's made a big difference in how both Jeff and I relate to her, and her readiness to confide in and connect with us. For that alone, I think it's definitely worth it.

A note on the structure of the course itself… I think overall, it's working well. Now that I'm investigating astrology more and exploring the overlap between the three Druidic elements and the cardinal, fixed and mutable aspects of the four elements in the zodiac… I'm wondering if it might be interesting to experiment with a year-long study similar to the kind TDN has set up with their Perennial Course in Living Druidry. Setting things up so that, for instance, the lessons of Nwyfre of Earth correspond with the cardinal earth zodiac sign of Capricorn (Dec. 21 - Jan. 21) and Gwyar of Water correspond with the mutable water sign of Pisces (Feb. 21 - March 21). It might be interesting to play with the order in this way… though the order and structure I have it set up in right now feels very natural, building on what came before. Mixing things up might make it more difficult… but, on the other hand, it would also "personalize" the year-long study course according to each person's birthday, which might be particularly good for young people. It might force me to simplify the lessons as well, in the same way TDN's course lessons are fairly simple but still profound. I'll explore this possibility as I learn more about astrology and keep it in mind, at least.

Astrology of Me: Natal Chart Analysis (Part 1)

Days of Note: Full White Lady Moon

Sun: taurus (fixed earth); 6:02am - 8:31pm
Moon: *full moon, sagittarius (mutable fire)
Earth: another gray, drizzly, chilly day with steady rain for hours on end, finally clearing just before sunset this evening with layers of cloud (and a tiny bit of clear blue breaking through) transforming the sky into a tapestry of blues and grays

Based on Stephen Arroyo's Outline of Chart Interpretation

I. The Chart as a Whole

§A.1 Preponderance & Deficiencies Shown by Planets' Positions • By Sign Placement
a) Elements

• Fire - Venus in Leo; Jupiter conjunct Uranus, and Neptune in Sagittarius
• Earth - none
• Air - Sun conjunct Mars, and Mercury in Gemini; AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto, and Moon in Libra
• Water - none

b) Quadruplicity

• Cardinal - AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto, and Moon in Libra
• Fixed - Venus in Leo
• Mutable - Sun conjunct Mars, and Mercury in Gemini; Jupiter conjunct Uranus, and Neptune in Sagittarius

§A.2 Preponderance & Deficiencies Shown by Planets' Positions • By House Placement
a) Types

• Angular - AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto in 1st; Venus in 10th
• Succedent - Jupiter conjunct Uranus in 2nd; Mercury and Mars in 8th
• Cadent - Neptune in 3rd (2nd?); Sun in 9th (8th?); Moon in 12

b) Elements

• Fire - AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto in 1st; Sun in 9th (8th?)
• Earth - Jupiter conjunct Uranus in 2nd; Venus in 10th
• Air - Neptune in 3rd (2nd?)
• Water - Mercury and Mars in 8th; Moon in 12th

§B Overall Pattern of the Chart

An emphasis on Gemini (mutable air) and Sagittarius (mutable fire), with a Sun-Mars conjunction opposite Neptune and a Jupiter-Uranus conjunction opposite Mercury. Both Mercury and Jupiter fall within the signs they rule (Gemini and Sagittarius, respectively), further emphasizing the Gemini-Sagittarius opposition. Sagittarius as a fire sign is associated with cosmic or universal radiant energy expressed as passion, enthusiasm and honesty, while Gemini as an air sign expresses this cosmic energy as life-energy and is concerned primarily with the realm of archetypes or ideas, the patterns "behind" the physical world. Both signs have a mutable quality, correlated to change, flux and flexibility (and can be conceived as spiral energy patterns, according to Arroyo). Sue Tompkins, in her text Aspects in Astrology, describes the Gemini-Sagittarius opposition as being a tension between the archetypal student (Gemini) eager for knowledge and the wise teacher (Sagittarius) as the keeper of that knowledge. (She also compares this pair to the Fool and Judgement (or Justice?) tarot cards, respectively, expressing a tension between a youthful and inquisitive innocence and a concern for wisdom, morality and justice.) This reflects Arroyo's understanding somewhat, as he describes Sagittarius as a sign of aspiration and drive towards ideals, while Gemini is a sign of perception, immediacy and connection (especially expressed verbally).

This suggests to me that one of the dominant patterns in my chart is this tension between, on the one hand, the sharp, perceptive mind of Gemini that leaps at the underlying patterns and connections expressed in the immediate world here-and-now (and especially wants to communicate these perceived connections) and, on the other hand, the more expansive vision of Sagittarius that can conceive of yet-unrealized ideals and pursue them with relentless, even restless passion and enthusiasm. In other words, a tension between the short view and the long view, a tension between fascination with the here-now and a passion for the future-that-could-be. At first, I don't see much in the way of conflict here, so much as complimentary passions…. But the role of Uranus (and Neptune to a lesser extent) complicates the picture. Uranus is in perfectly exact opposition with Mercury (the most exact aspect in the chart), while Neptune's opposition to the Sun is the second-most exact hard aspect (within a degree) in the chart. This brings an element of radical freedom and even chaos (Uranus) as well as a degree of self-deception or glamorization (Neptune) to the opposition. (This deserves some detailed expansion and exploration — so more of that later.)

Besides the Mutable Opposition dominating the chart, the second most obvious pattern is probably the Air Trine between Gemini and Libra (involving, for the most part, the Sun and Mars in Gemini, with Saturn and Pluto conjunct the Ascendent in Libra), along with the Moon also in Libra. Gemini and Libra also seem aligned roughly with the 8th and 12th houses, respectively, both houses ruled by water. I'm not sure what exactly this suggests and need to look into it further, but at least there seems to be an emphasis on a fairly comfortable relationship with learning and communication which may also involve an easy, flowing connection with emotion or feelings. Saturn's placement might complicate this trine somewhat, bringing a certain amount of tension or resistance to it… but again, something I want to look at more deeply later on.

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:

Diary - Dream & Manannan

Sun: taurus (fixed earth), 6:03am - 8:30pm
Moon: *full moon, scorpio (fixed water)
Earth: gray, drizzly, rainy and cool all day

I woke up this morning (around 5 AM) from a very intense dream once again involving a sea god or man deeply connected with the sea, who I'm almost sure is Manannan.

This dream started out as similar to a dream I had a few weeks ago focused on anxiety about the upcoming wedding. In this dream, like the first wedding dream, I was stressed out about the wedding happening "too soon" and thus our wedding guests not taking it seriously — but "too soon" in the dream meant not our set wedding date in September, but right now, this instant. In the dream, I was not engaged to Jeff but to some other man. I don't think I ever saw him in the dream, but I had an impression of him being shorter and stockier than Jeff, darker in hair and complexion and rather rough and harsh. I was set to marry him "in May" (in other words, within the next few weeks), and I was somewhere resembling something like a beach house with my parents and a number of other people, some of whom were my family members and some not.

While there, I met a man and fell passionately in love with him, in the kind of deep-longing-to-be-together-but-never-really-consummating kind of way. The magnetism or connection between us was palpable, as it was in my previous dream about being mistaken for a priestess of the sea god. I felt like my heart was breaking open, but not exactly in sadness. We spent time together on the beach, and during the course of our conversations it became clear that if I tried to enter into some kind of friendship or relationship with him — even if it could not be a romantic one — this would fundamentally change my relationship with my fiancé. I wanted desperately to delay the wedding until the appropriate time (in September) so that I could spend the next months exploring my connection with this man of the sea, and I knew that if I did that, then the man I eventually married would be changed — I would not marry the dark, short, stocky man that I might marry "in May," but would instead end up marrying Jeff as I actually know him — but this was not because the person I was marrying would literally change and I would marry someone else… it was as though the darker man would somehow transform into Jeff through my relationship with the sea god.

This was all very confusing, but I knew that I wanted to explore the relationship with the mysterious man that I felt such a connection to. Still, I couldn't bring myself to let my family know or tell anyone, so I just tried to think of reasons to delay the wedding. I would meet him covertly, among other friends, as though he just happened to be a mutual acquaintance. Once, when out swimming in the ocean, he caught up to me in the deep waters where we could be alone. He said he had a gift for me, then dove down into the depths, not resurfacing for a long time. When he did finally resurface, he was pulling up from beneath the waters a huge ship, its wood creaking and spilling water from it. Friends from shore saw the boat and came out to see, so that soon everyone was clambering on board to explore (while I still stayed treading water next to him in the ocean). On one part of the deck of the ship was a hole in the boards which was covered over and seemed almost to be surrounded by dirt mounded up with bits of grass growing around it. It looked very much like a well of some kind, like you might find on land. Someone asked about it, and the sea-god-man warned them not to open it — they thought it was just a hatch down below deck, but he said (or made me to understand, at least) that it wasn't. Actually, it was a well, a kind of portal that dropped straight down into the depths of the ocean/underworld. He made me to understand that I could stay and live with him on the ship out on the ocean, but even there, I couldn't always be with him. Everyone once in a while, he would have to open the cover of the well and drop down into the very depths, where I could not follow him, and we would be parted. The notion of being parted from him was painful, but in a way that seemed like a noble sacrifice that was well worth it.

Soon after understanding the purpose of the well on the ship, I woke up.

So a great deal to mull over and contemplate in this latest dream (including the question of why I seem to be able to connect with Manannan so much better in dreams than during my ritual times with hi — or, I guess, why he chooses to show up at one time instead of another).

Part of what fed into this dream, I think, was my emotional state last night, spurred on by (yes, I'm a nerd) finally watching the Doctor Who specials from the year between the end of the fourth season and the beginning of the fifth with the 11th Doctor (that obnoxious actor guy who isn't David Tennant). David Tennant as the Doctor saw me through some pretty brutal, lonely times during those years of solitude and poverty — as well as the first few months of my budding romance with Jeff when we finally met in person for the first time (we spent several nights curled up on the futon watching Doctor Who, and then lapsing into make-out sessions while the TARDIS churned on the DVD menu screen ;). For the two or so years since then, I couldn't bring myself to watch the final episodes of Season Four (when the Doctor definitively loses both Rose and Donna, his best friend) for a second time… until just a few weeks ago when Jeff and I decided to go ahead and do it because we were going to start watching them over again with a friend of ours during a weekly "Night of Doctor Who" get together. Just last night, we watched the Special when the 10th Doctor dies. I cried like a baby. Like, we're talking sobs.

Several hours later, when we were settling into bed, I started crying again in a kind of odd mixture of sobs and laughter…. I can't describe exactly why I was crying, but it wasn't just about some silly TV show. I was remembering who I was during those years of deep, wrenching loneliness, and in some ways, I felt like I was mourning that Alison who had to live through those years. I rarely think about that time of my life these days, and my life now seems full of lots of little stresses and anxieties… and yet, now I am so amazingly happy and grateful that it's almost like I can't really allow myself to fully feel that joy, or I'd just be wandering around like a grinning idiot all the time. So there was this weird, sublime tension between my deep grief for that Alison of memory who is, in some ways, always going to be there, in that past, alone and weeping… and at the same time realizing how utterly ridiculous I was for not opening more fully to the joy of my present life. The only way I coped with those years of heartache was to embrace that loneliness and learn to grieve openly and cleanly, so that grieving became a process of healing and an affirmation of life. Now, I have so much to be grateful and joyful about… and yet I'm busy pushing myself, always striving, and beating myself up for not accomplishing more, not moving my career forward as quickly as I want to, not being as good a stepmom as I want to be, etc. All these stresses that, really, aren't that big a deal. Last night, it was as if I was again that sorrowing Alison of memory, only now I was looking forward at my life today… and laughing at how silly I can be, never cutting myself any slack or letting myself enjoy a rest. The whole metaphor of "regeneration" in the Doctor Who series, and this idea that the new Doctor is not really the same even if he has all the same memories… that's kind of what I felt like. Except, I don't want to forget the sadness and grief and loneliness of who I was before. I want to honor the lessons that sorrow and solitude taught me, and be more present to the very real joy in my life right now.

So before going to bed, I had resolved to develop some meditative/ritual practice to help me cultivate my joy and offer it as a gift, as I once did with my loneliness, to my gods and to Spirit and the Song of the World. I didn't know exactly what kind of practice this would be, but I wanted to pursue it. So it's not that much of a surprise to me that this kind of intense emotional turmoil and catharsis last night brought on dreams once again of Manannan. He always seems connected, for me, to that liminal state between sorrow and joy, grief and gratitude. The longing to be with him — and the wrenching awareness that I can't ever be, not really, not permanently — is a theme in so many relationships in my life (and one reason I think I found the Doctor so resonant and moving as a character). That I'm in a good, happy, stable relationship now doesn't really change that. In some ways, Manannan is reminding me, I think, that even with those we love, there are dark places we cannot touch and depths to which we cannot follow, and that as close as I feel to Jeff, I cannot take our relationship for granted. If I do, then the person I am marrying won't really be Jeff, but some shallower version of him more prone to my projections, more of a stranger than the man I love. But if I work to cultivate my joy and my gratitude and my love, especially in the depths where all becomes liminal and the autumn mists rise, then in the coming months my relationship with Jeff will deepen and blossom even more, and our marriage will truly be one of souls in love. I remember in the dream, understanding that it was important to wait until September, and spend time with this Man of the Sea, so that when the time came for me to marry, my marriage would blessed by the cool mists of autumn.

~

Ellen on the LotS SIG asked what I do during a "Seakeeping" shift with Manannan, so I thought I would share my response to her here.

Honestly, at this point, my practice with Manannan is still in its infancy, taking many stumbling baby-steps. My basic pattern for ritual work is the same I use for Brigid during my Cauldron Cill Flamekeeping shift. I begin my shift at sundown of the appropriate day, opening with a small, simple ritual of welcome.

For Brigid, I have prayers that I use to more fully invite her presence into my life and to charge/consecrate anew the flame pendant that I wear during my Flamekeeping shift. I light a physical candle during this ritual, even if I'll only be able to keep an LED one "burning" during the shift itself, and I pass the pendant above the flames while chanting, "Fire and Water in the Earth of my body, I keep your Sacred Flame." I don't really have a similar thing to do for Manannan, though I've been thinking for a while of finding either a shell pendant to wear, or a ring made of shell (like those hokey ones you can get at beach tourist gift shops). Instead of lighting a candle, I have a blue pitcher that I fill with water which I'll hold between my hands to charge, then pouring libation into my offering bowl (and taking a sip to honor the Spirit/god within). I do have a large whelk shell that was a gift from the sea when I was down at the beach last fall that I also bless. Afterwards, for both Flamekeeping and Seakeeping, I spend some time in meditation and prayer, maybe doing some trance work if I have the stamina for it, and usually concluding the ritual with a divination. During the next 24ish hours, I keep/carry/wear the symbol of my shift with me (and for Brigid, keep either a real or LED flame burning) as a reminder and object of focus for my shift. The next night at sundown, I do a closing ritual where I thank the god/dess for the gifts they've brought into my life, and basically do a kind of "unwinding" (for Brigid, this kind of takes the form of a metaphorical "smooring the fire" for safekeeping until my next shift).

This works very well for Brigid… but I'm finding that for Manannan, it's not jiving as well. For one thing, the metaphor of the flame or fire as something that requires tending (and then can be "smoored") means that the activity of the Flamekeeping shift is actually, well, active, even if only in a metaphorical sense. I feel like I'm actually doing something during my Flamekeeping shift, and usually my creativity feels a bit heightened. During my Seakeeping shifts, though, I've more often felt at a loss for what I was supposed to be doing… There was kind of a sense of the ocean not really being something that needs tending or "keeping," and lighting a candle just feels more active then filling a bowl with water (which will slowly evaporate over the next month, whether I pay attention to it or not). I think this may be one area where I need to rethink the Seakeeping shift and how I approach it. I'm exploring the idea of incorporating some ritual practice that's more about opening myself up to receptivity and relaxing into the presence of Manannan, and not so much about the active engagement and honoring that I do with Brigid during my Flamekeeping… if that makes sense. Some kind of ritual bath would probably be good in this case, but not always possible depending on where I am and what my schedule is.

Like I mentioned already, what I'd really like is to be able to develop some unique rituals for each of the Flamekeeping and Seakeeping shifts, particular to the energies of those deities, but then have one or two practices that I do during both that kind of connect or help to integrate them in some way. (I'm thinking, for instance, of the "Running the Iron/Pearl Pentagrams" in Feri, though I know very little about that other than their names, or the Turning the Three Cauldrons meditation that I've heard about here and there.) So that's where I'm at right now. Trying to find some kind of ritual that is simple enough and practical enough that I can actually commit to doing it regularly… but is also effective and ritually/symbolically meaningful and fitting…. So, lots to think about and experiment with.

Lady of Star Fire, Son of the Sea

A post to the Lady of the Stars SIG on TC, that I thought would be relevant to my "seakeeping" shift today.

So this is something I've been mulling over for quite a while, since a ways back when I had that intense dream about a "sea god" and began to explore and expand my relationship with Manannan. My work with Brigid seemed to be put "on hold" for a period, and she's only recently started to reassert herself. Now I'm working to try to integrate and understand how these two deities might somehow work together or relate to one another in a shared practice.

I think there are several of you in the LotS SIG who also work with Manannan as well as Brigid. A lot of our responses in the "Who is the Lady?" thread evoke some pretty significant connections between fire and water, and I'm feeling a similar push/pull from Manannan, though from a bit of a different perspective.

The Lady of Star Fire seems to me very much like a spark in the darkness. Sometimes, her "spark" is what feels emphasized, her fire and light, her warmth and activity and creativity and passion (and these feel very much like Brigid's more traditional "solar" aspect to me). Other times, it is her "dark" aspect that seems to come to the fore, the primal, primordial nature, the black seas of the universe stretching between the stars.

Manannan feels equally paradoxical in nature. If the Lady is the fire-in-the-water, Manannan sometimes feels to me like the water-in-the-fire… The overwhelming energy of intense emotion, the inspiration of the past, the palpable tingling of mist against skin, the lightning in the storm...

[snipped for relevance]

Diary

Days of Note: Seakeeping, Moon Conjunct Saturn

Sun: taurus (fixed earth), 6:05am - 8:28pm
Moon: waxing gibbous, libra (cardinal air)
Earth: gray and rainy, milk temperatures, the garden is just beginning to green with the sprouts of onions, carrots, lettuce and peas (and weeds weeds weeds)

Wave and water,
mist and storm,
I seek Manannan.

That was the invocation I used last night during my meditation to begin my "seakeeping" shift. I am still experimenting with this idea of keeping a shift (staggered with my Flamekeeping shift for Brigid with the TC Cill) in honor of Manannan as a way to connect more deeply with him. One thing I've noticed — and which probably should've been obvious to me from the start — is that I'm finding that a candle is not the most appropriate ritual object to use in this respect. For Brigid, it works well (the blue bowl with the floating golden candle, and the white pillar in the orange-and-red hurricane glass holder both work exceptionally well). For Manannan, I got a large pillar candle of rippling shades of blue (and that smells, supposedly, like the ocean)… but for obvious reasons, it's not serving as a very strong connection to him. I also included on my working altar my blue pitcher full of water, the photograph of an ocean wave in the blue glass and silver wire frame, and the blue-green whelk shell that washed up at my feet on the beach down in North Carolina when we were there last September. I also had my usual incense blend burning.

I admit, I'm not a big ritual tools person. I like having a fairly simple, basic set-up for ritual that I can just rely on each time. Thinking up clever, complex ritual symbolism for each ritual wears me out, especially for fairly simple rituals that I do on a daily or at least fairly regular basis. I tend to be a minimalist in this regard. So having a basic set-up of candle, incense, water and bit of earth is how I usually approach the issue, exchanging out certain objects for others where appropriate. So for instance, I exchange my Brigid candle for my Manannan candle, and the green and purple fluorite sphere for the whelk shell. Incense is the same — just some generic, all-purpose frankincense — and either the blue pitched of water, or the blue bowl full of glitter. Maybe this is lazy of me. When I was in my old apartment, it was easier to do more complex, purpose-specific altar spaces that incorporated various objects. Now, between the cat and the kids, I find it very hard to set up any kind of altar space with any permanence that won't get knocked or handled or treated (by kid and cat alike) as a plaything. It's easier to keep supplies stored away and bring them out whenever I want to do ritual.

But for Manannan's seakeeping shift, I'm finding this approach is just not working well. What I would ideally like to have is some kind of small fountain of running water or at the very least a libation bowl of some kind. During last night's ritual, I held the whelk shell in my hands, attempting to connect with its watery origins. This has worked in the past, but last night fell flat. The shell felt very much a hard, clunky object, not the fluidly crystalline "gateway" it's been before. And all of this might also be due to my lack of disciplined meditation recently, or a whole host of other issues I've been dealing with. I'd like to see if I could arrange a bath this evening — but when the kids are over, they dominate the entire house and its energy shifts decidedly in their restless, noisy direction. I'm not sure deep ritual of any kind is likely while they're around, unless I go out into the woods or somewhere equally solitary.

Do I sound cranky? (Is it because they've been in and out of the house, slamming the door each time, for the last twenty minutes or so?) This weekend is also supposed to be dedicated to some Saturn Return work, with the moon conjunct Saturn at the moment. In general, I'm feeling a bit cranky and distracted. Sinking into meditation feels impossible — like trying to fall asleep despite intermittent noise. That's the thing about intermittent distractions. Constant noise or movement can become part of the background — but distraction that is only intermittent dominates the subconscious, which remains on constant alert for when the next disruption will be. This is why folks who live too close to wind farms say it's a nightmare to try to sleep at night. Not just because the changing atmospheric conditions at night can amplify the noise of the windmills (which it does), but also because the noise is not constant white noise, but comes and goes with the breeze. Some small part of their mind remains in a mode of continued vigilance, in subconscious anticipation of the next unpleasant experience. And as a result, it feels impossible to concentrate — part of the mind's resources are permanently dedicated to that subconscious process. That's often how it feels here on weekends. I never know what to anticipate from the kids, and with four of them, it's almost guaranteed that one of them is going to need something every few minutes. Fiona can be the worst — she'll come to me instead of Jeff thinking that I'll be more lenient or give her permission that her father denied (or, more often these days, try to punish the other kids for not doing what she wants). Just now, in fact, she came in to tell me that Savanah was doing stuff she didn't like, specifically, she was off exploring the garden instead of playing with Fiona.

~

Excellent example. Jeff returned home with Jerilynn, one thing led to another, and it's now three hours or so later, after lunch, that I'm finally able to get back to this (now that the kids are downstairs with Jeff playing Settlers of Catan).

In any case, the day is warm and muggy, and even the walls inside feel somewhat damp to the touch. I'm feeling a little better having eaten, though not fantastic all the same. I'm going to just go ahead and post this because my train of thought was lost. I'd wanted to write a bit more about various projects Jeff and I are working on, but that can wait. Perhaps this evening or tomorrow I'll have another chance to write, as well as do a bit of divination with the cards.

My Druid Path, Revisited

Days of Note: Seakeeping Shift (begins at sundown)

Sun: taurus (earth/fixed), 6:06am - 8:27pm
Moon: waxing gibbous, libra (air/cardinal)
Earth: warm, muggy and sunny much of the day (after thunderstorms last night), with now more storms blowing in

Note: I wanted to post this yesterday, but Blogger was down for more than twenty hours (and my previous post is, at the time of this writing, still missing... though staff say all lost posts should be restored soon.

There's a new Druidry SIG over on TC, and one of the introductory threads asks "What kind of Druidic path do you walk?" I thought I would post my reply here, for posterity, since it reflects my current perspective on my spiritual path. Since the nature of a path is that your perspective of it will keep changing as you move along it, it's nice to revisit that question every once in a while.

I have always been drawn primarily to Revival Druidry traditions, especially because when I first began exploring Druidry I still considered myself a Catholic and (maybe more importantly) an academic. Studying comparative world religions in college, I couldn't quite get behind the notion of Celtic Reconstructionism, as I was fairly well aware of just how little we have to go on in some respects from an academic perspective — and at the same time, I was drawn to some of the early 18th and 19th century spiritual movements that sought to bring East and West together (like Theosophy, for instance). The kind of wild-Celtic(ish)-pastoralism and ambivalence towards the industrial revolution that many of the Romantic poets embodied in their work also had a great deal of influence on me, so it's probably not much of a surprise that Revival Druidry (which has its roots in the British fraternities, social clubs and workers unions of the 18th and 19th centuries) struck a chord with me. There was also, like I mentioned, the issue of acceptance and my desire to explore Druidry while still a Christian - the two Revival Druidry Orders that I belong to (AODA and OBOD) both state outright that they accept Druids from all religious backgrounds and see Druidry more as a philosophy or way of life than a "religion" per se. (Since then, I've come to question that acceptance a bit, both because these organizations have not always lived up to their reputations of inclusion in my experience, and because to some extent I think it may be a bit of a feint to try to distinguish "religion" from "way of life" in the long run...)

Anyway! The first Order I joined was AODA (Ancient Order of Druids in America) - I chose them because they seemed to have the most flexibility and acceptance of the American-based groups I knew of, and a really well-developed study program. I considered joining ADF, but at the time I was still Catholic and resolutely monotheistic/panentheistic… and although that's changed, I still find I don't quite jive with the theological approach that ADF takes. Still, there are a lot of things I do admire about ADF — their emphasis on excellence and scholarship, their democratic organizational structure, and the friendliness and outreach that the local ADF grove here in Pittsburgh does so well. I'm really glad to see a lot of ADF folks here in this SIG — I'm hoping to learn more about that organization from people already involved in it.

I joined OBOD a bit later... but honestly, I found their Bardic course to be on the far side of simplistic (and WAY overpriced!). Later when I found out that OBOD is a for-profit company set up to help Philip Carr-Gomm and his friends market their books and CDs... that kind of soured me on them. (I was also put off a bit by their rather bitter, unsupportive reaction to The Druid Network's gaining charity status last year.) I think they probably offer some great workshops and festivals over in the UK, but over here in the U.S., I feel like they don't offer much. So while I'm still officially a member, I'm definitely nonactive. So it goes...

Most recently, I got involved just last year with an "offshoot" Order that began as a grove of AODA and then broke away over some differences of emphasis. They're called the "Druid Order of the Three Realms," and they incorporate a lot of what appeals to me about Revival Druidry along with an emphasis on nonhierarchical structure and particular attention played to the Three Realms of Land, Sea and Sky. It seems like a happy medium between the CR approach and the Revival approach, and so far I've really enjoyed my work with them. My partner and I were both invited to join the Order and we're working our way through their Aspirant Program. I'm enjoying the review that it's providing me! Every time I return to some of the simplest concepts in Druidry, I find that my understanding of them deepens.

So that's where I'm at. As a (soon-to-be) stepmom of four kids being raised in the Druid tradition, one aspect of Druidry that I'm really interested in is the kind of "interDruish" community made up of solitaries and folks from many different Orders and traditions. My oldest stepdaughter already knows more about Druidry than I learned my first year working with AODA... which leaves me wondering what the place of aspirant/candidate work will be for people raised in these traditions. That's another reason why ADF really fascinates me — because my impression is that they really have in place a Dedicant Program that's relevant not just for neophytes and converts, but for anyone seeking to explore Druidry in-depth. I'd like to see some of the Revival Druidry Orders learn from this and start thinking about the place of future generations....

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!