Sacred Poetry Workshop

Jeff is on his way home from the airport (he should be home any minute!), and I find myself too excited to settle down to read or do anything even remotely productive. Plus, it's gorgeous and sunny outside, and FF&C's last episode of the season is up. So in general, I am a very happy Ali.

Yesterday, I attended a two-hour workshop put on by the OBOD seed-group in the area, the Circle of Coll. It was a very small group, just the workshop leader, M., one other member, R., and me (several other who'd been planning on attending had to cancel at the last minute). The workshop was a variation of the one M. presented at Pantheacon this past year, along the theme of "unity in diversity." It focused on crafting sacred poetry to be used in ritual context, and explored how poetry might be used in a non-tradition-specific way.

The discussion during the first part of the workshop was fascinating, as I got to learn a little bit more about how this particular group approaches ritual and the discussions that go on within the group. It was great to be able to have a conversation with other Druids in person in this way, though I think my enthusiasm made me a bit inarticulate and bubbly when I tried to share some of my own thoughts. One thing that was interesting was how clearly M.'s approach to ritual as a general structure is shaped by Isaac Bonewits' approach — I felt a bit awkward in following along to some of the conclusions he reached about just how "universal" this basic structure was, based on my own research working on my thesis. But it's been years since I was immersed in that research in any case, and that's a more complicated discussion for another time.

What struck me most about the workshop was just how differently M.'s approach was to what he called sacred poetry (i.e. poetry to be used in a ritual context) compared to, for lack of a better word, "secular" poetry. I'm not sure I agree with this distinction, but let's go with it for now and consider what he said. His most striking claim about sacred poetry was that it was deliberately designed to transcend itself. This flies in the face of how I usually think of poetry and other forms of art more generally, which to me are most successful when they are most whole, when they do not seek to point outside of themselves to something external but instead embody fully what they are.This is according to some philosophies of aesthetics, I think, the difference between a sign (which points at something external to itself) and a symbol (which embodies something which it both is and is not). To me, the symbol is the more powerful and potent of the two. So I'm not sure how I feel about treating sacred poetry as sign rather than symbol, and to make the goal of writing such poems to be explicitly transcendent. (And I don't think I agree with M. when he says that a "secular" poem that manages to express something sacred is an accidental miracle. To me, that is simply the mark of a truly great poem, or any other work of art.)

The approach to writing sacred poetry for a ritual context does not seem to me to be all that different from writing poetry in general. I liked his emphasis on two key aspects: synchronicity, and constraint. The poetic form, even in free verse, is a masterpiece of constraint, even just in the concrete, concise language and the use of metaphor and juxtaposition. And synchronicity plays a big part in the process of crafting a poem and the choice of juxtaposition and metaphor, even for folks who don't sit with a Tarot deck or ogham on hand. I've always found that observations of the natural world will play off of my own mental or emotional state in a way that allows for surprising synchronicities.

On the other hand, I don't exactly agree with the impression M. left that in order for sacred poetry to be truly transcendent, you should avoid revision. The idea of "getting yourself out of the way" and using techniques to help loosen up your creativity and your willingness to make leaps and take risks in your work — that's all very helpful, but I don't think poetry (unless you're very lucky and "in the groove") can stop at that stage in the process, even sacred poetry. Sacred poetry, as part of embodied ritual, is bound to be just as much a kind of self-expression, since the purpose of ritual is to bring us into the greater patterns and allow us to embody those sacred patterns within our lives. You could argue that ritual is quintessentially about self-expression, and if rituals can be practiced and polished and their forms refined over time, then I don't see why sacred poetry to be used in ritual shouldn't also be revised and refined.

That said, learning to more freely enter a state of mind (and spirit) that allows for inspired automatic writing (even if it is not always polished) is definitely a good skill to cultivate, and one that I probably can benefit from working on, especially since I tend to be a perfectionist and move at a painstaking pace when I write. (I do find it easier to get into the swing of things when I'm typing and when I'm writing in poetic prose, though.) M. is obviously very skilled at this, since his piece that he shared at the end of the workshop (after we'd each had half an hour to craft a poem to be used in a culminating ritual at the end) was very good and very effective. I took quite a while, and I don't know if mine was all that good, at least at what it was meant for (raising power at the peak of the ritual).

I've included the poem I wrote below. We were each assigned one of the three sections of the ritual, which we'd decided would be about welcoming prosperity and success into our lives. The task was to draw a tarot card and use it as inspiration for the poem, and to use some kind of structure or form as a constraint to help us "get out of our own way" and step aside from our own voice. The card I drew (from a random deck I selected) had an image thick with ferns, which immediately put me in mind of a fern growing from tiny, invisible spore into tender fiddlehead and then unfolding completely as full-grown plant. The number of the card was 2, so I decided to go for rhyming couplets in the structure where the last word of the previous line repeats at the beginning of the following line. Here's what I wrote:

Rooted in the lush earth, we feel ourselves secure
Secure in our potential, small hopeful seed
Seed of our skill, knowledge and power, responding to the sun's touch
Touch of rain, warmth of earth, nurturing our need

Our need opens us to new possibilities,
Possibilities call us beyond ourselves, open to the new
New in strength, we feel the power of sky and earth,
Earth and sky lend power to the work we do.

Dew of morning on green leaves unfurling
Unfurling into mid-day's energy
Engery we need for our success surrounds us
Surrounds us as the earth's fecundity

Fecundity of field and forest through season's turning
Turning seed to sprout to blossom, then to fruit
Fruit ripens now, we celebrate our harvest
Harvest and prosperity take root

Rooted in the lush earth, we build the power to its peak
Peak of power, by land, sky and sea
We welcome in prosperity, so may it be.

A Druid in Modern Society

Something I wrote for The Cauldron's Neo-Druidry SIG that I thought I would post here — my response to the following questions:

What does it mean to be a Druid in modern society? What do you mean when you use the term Druid for yourself? Why are you a Druid instead of, say, a witch or a Celtic Recon? Conversely, do you find your Druidry informing any other spiritual path you walk?

Basically, this is the place to talk in lengthy detail about your Druidry!

Great questions! Hmm, trying to decide which one to start with....

Okay, what do I mean when I use the term Druid for myself? I mean that I am a practitioner of Druidry, a spiritual tradition that is represented by several modern groups and organizations (but definitely not reducible to any one of them), such as OBOD, AODA, ADF, TDN, DOTR, etc. I feel pretty comfortable using the term "Druid" for myself for two reasons. (1) Because I mean it in the same way I would call myself a "Christian" if I were practicing Christianity - I see Druidry as a religion, and it's just easiest to identify myself as a member of that religious tradition by using the term. Since it's pretty well acknowledged that we can't recreate ancient Celtic society, I don't worry about anyone mistaking me for a "real Druid" in that sense.

(2) The idea that ancient Druids were similar to a "priest/philosopher caste" in Celtic society and underwent 20+ years of training.... qualifies me as a Druid, damn it. ;) I've spent most of my life studying philosophy and religion through formal education, I have a degree in comparative religious studies ("priest") and have earned distinguished honors for my work in creative writing ("bard") and political philosophy ("adviser to kings"), along with experience as a political activist and vocal pacifist ("peacemaker"). I guess this is partly answering that first question, too - what does it mean to be a Druid in modern society. True, I didn't spend all those years self-identifying as a Druid... But what it means for me personally to think of myself as a Druid is striving to embody that role of the politically- and socially-engaged peacemaker whose community work is informed by an insight into aesthetics and poetry as well as the intellectual discipline and knowledge of the scholar or philosopher, and who brings to all of that work a deep sense of spiritual grounding and reverence for the gods and the sacredness of the earth.

Why I identify myself as a Druid and not a CR/Recon person (besides what others have mentioned about the lack of scholarly info and the practicality issue) is because the archetype of the Druid seems to place more emphasis on the synthesis and integration of all these different aspects into a deep and challenging path, whereas CR strikes me a bit more like a "folk religion," so to speak, where these roles are all still seen as separate specialties (if you know what I mean... not sure I'm really getting across my idea very well there). I actually started out exploring Paganism through the Wicca/Witchcraft lens (and every once in a while get an urge to explore Feri Witchcraft a bit more)... but it never really fit me, I didn't feel that sense of "homecoming" that I've heard a lot of others describe. Though I do believe in magic, I tend to understand it much more from an aesthetic/philosophical point of view. What really struck me was when I read an essay in an anthology about Druidry where the writer talked about the Witch archetype as that person living as a kind of outcast (a hag or whore) on the edge of town, whereas the Druid was deeply engaged in the heart of community working along with others and counseling them as an accepted and wise person. I resonated much more with the Druid archetype and the role of community and engagement than with the Witch archetype. :)

So.... is that too much?

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....