An extract from: "Ritual
- A Guide to Life, Love and Inspiration," by Emma Restall Orr. (Thorsons,
HarperCollins 2000)l
- A Guide to Life, Love and Inspiration" by Emma Restall Orr. Published
by Thorsons, 2000
Understanding Sacred Space
It is so much easier to perceive the spirit or spirits in a beautiful environment,
in the stones or cliffs, the trees and plants, the noise of the water tumbling
over the rocks, the grass and the rising songs of the skylarks, the moonlight
and the warmth of the hearth fire. Here we are able to feel our own spirit
responding to the world around us, its strength and its beauty reflecting
onto our own. These places are sacred to us; they are our natural temples
and simply, in Druidry, a temple is a place where we know we are nourished
on a level that is soul-deep.
Many of us know where these places are for us yet we simply don’t
have the time, resources or discipline to get there as often as we could,
would or should. If these obstacles are surmountable, the first step in
our practice of honouring ourselves, and the life force that flows through
us, is to dedicate ourselves to making time, spending resources, getting
to our temples. Once we are there, allowing ourselves to be deeply nourished
by the sacred nature of the place, we can respond, with thanksgivings of
our creativity, so deepening our relationship with the spirits that reside
there.
To see the essence of life can be horrendously difficult when the energy
and matter of creation seems to be attacking our very ability to survive
it. Yet in acknowledging the spirit within life we are able to feel the
strength of the sacred, its invulnerability and freedom, and so feel a sense
of safety sufficient to open and receive the energy of life, the pure creative
force.
The word nemeton, an old British word which was thought to mean a ‘grove’,
is now understood to translate more accurately as a ‘sacred sanctuary’.
Where we see the spirit of the natural world around us, we find our sacred
sanctuaries. When, soul-naked yet free, we feel our own spirit touched,
we know we have reached our nemeton. These are the temples of the Druids.
Sometimes it feels just too hard to find beauty and calm in a crazy world
of violence and pollution, yet without being able to do so our vision can
only add to the devastation, affirming its existence and its power over
us. So the Druid will reach into matter to touch the spirit, to share strength
and find inspiration, so beginning the process of positive change. Yet at
times where it is desperate, in order to grasp our own ability to see the
creative source, we must find some measure of own strength first. So it
is that, although in the tradition many temples are made where the spirit
is singing its rich exuberance around us, it is through working on our own
vision of the sacred that Druid temples are created.
The technique is simple but takes some practice. Before long we find it
to be a tool we can use in the most fraught of situations, but in learning
how to do it we begin by finding a quiet place where we will not be disturbed.
Stand comfortably, feet easily apart, hips directly above your feet, your
shoulders above your hips, so that your body can sway without losing balance.
Check the weight of your head is balanced on your shoulders to give the
neck as little stress as possible. Loosen your arms by gently shaking them
free of tension. Be aware of the tightness that remains in your fingers
(shake it out). In your face, the muscles of the jaw and around the eyes
may need to be stretched with a wild wide yawn before finding relaxation.
Now fully feel your feet upon the ground, the physical contact. Then allow
yourself to be aware of the energy of the earth, the pull that holds you,
supports you, feeds you. You may feel this as a spirit light or a brilliant
darkness, a pool of energy around your feet. Be aware of how you naturally
breathe it in, drawing it up through your body like a tree drinking in the
mineral-rich water of the soil, like sap rising through the branches that
reach into the skies. Feel the air upon your skin, your face, the skies
above, the light of the sun that inspires us to stretch and grow, the warmth
of its power pouring down through your body. Be conscious of the balance
that is the flow of the energy, both earth and sky, weaving through your
body with the natural ease that is life. This is not something you are invoking;
you are simply becoming aware of what is always happening.
Centred in this way, conscious of the most powerful forces, above and below,
become aware of your own body of energy. The focus for sacred ceremony is
that part we call the intimate space; this is the area immediately around
us that we protect from intrusion by anyone except those with whom we have
an intimate relationship. We flinch, tightening our intimate space if we
feel it’s threatened. It is within this space that the deepest wounds
are inflicted by life. It is within this space that we grow in the world,
expressing our soul truths. When this part of us is flinched and scarred,
we fail to grow. It is here that we make the important changes.
This, our intimate space, is our personal portable sanctuary in the world.
When we are happy and calm and with those we love, we extend that energy
body, relaxing, free. It is this ability to extend our intimate space that
we learn when we create sacred space.
So, centred, become aware of your intimate space. Where is it relaxed and
where is it flinched? Check behind and below, above and all around you.
Then stretch it out. Create a circle, an even sphere with you at the centre.
Make sure this is your true self expressed by pouring the energy of your
naked truths into its space. Knowing that the boundaries are strong, allow
yourself to feel what would be your vulnerability within this space. Flex
the muscle you used to stretch it out and change its shape. Withdraw it
to its normal distance from your physical body. Some find it easier to extend,
and some to pull it in.
Don’t expect to do it first time perfectly. There are many reasons
why it can be hard. If the boundaries don’t feel secure, it is the
practice of ritual with its invocations of guides and spirits that enables
us to seal those edges so that we can feel entirely strong. It is through
ritual too that we learn to feel the power of our own spirit invulnerability,
the essence of our own life force that is the silent stillness at the centre
of the swirling of our lives.
If at any time you lose your sense of balance, return through the process
of centring once again. When ready to return to normal consciousness, simply
pull your intimate space back to what is naturally comfortable in your environment.
If being conscious of the flow of earth and sky energy through you has made
you dizzy, make sure that the energy is flowing, not getting stuck. Its
flow should ground you naturally, drawing you down to touch the earth while
freeing your living movement.
This is the way every ritual can begin and end, with this simple practice
of perceiving the world’s energy, flowing around and through you.
Once we feel confident that we can use this intimate space as a conscious
tool, we can stand within it and look at the world around us.
What is flowing through us? What is consistently pushing against us? What
are we fighting? What does simply ignore the bounds of our intimate space?
The energy of children, the trees, cats ...
This intimate space, the sacred sanctuary of our physical form, is the
first and most important step to understand. Without a strong and familiar
knowing of what is safe for us, we can fool ourselves into situations which
do not feed us, or hold us in long term stress. It is also an essential
prerequisite to knowing what our ritual environment should feel like. If
we are working a rite alone, this sense of intimate sanctuary should remain
with us throughout the ritual. If we are performing the rite with others,
being secure with our own understanding of sanctuary allows us to hold a
powerful sense of spirit, as well as giving us a standard of what can be
achieved in a cohesive group, a group where intimate space is shared.
The Inner Temple
Understanding that our intimate space is the sacred sanctuary of the physical
body, the temple we carry with us around the flesh, blood and bones of our
creative journey, we then turn in the tradition to find a sanctuary within
our souls.
Survival of the body is closest to the instinctive drive of our animal
nature, yet our human self-consciousness spins visions of threat out of
the material world and into the psyche. There are demons within us of expectation
and anticipation that only manifest in matter as reflections and projections.
Finding a full sense of sacred sanctuary, then, must include also a sense
of perfect safety and nourishment within the self. This is done by the creation
or discovery of a nemeton within our soul, a place within the mind that
is wrapped and held by the intention of it being a sanctuary.
What is this place? For some it is a grove of trees, while others find
for themselves a cove by the sea. It can be absolutely anywhere that is
inspirited and perceived to be sacred, secluded and entirely safe. It is
a special place, a place of our own, somewhere that cannot be touched by
others, nor by our own self-negation.
The more often we visit this inner temple, the stronger this place becomes.
As a journey of the mind, it pushes us to develop our abilities to imagine
and its value to us increases the more effectively we can experience it.
Usually beginning visually, we explore using our ability to hear the wind
and the birdsong, to smell the earth, the stones, to feel beneath our fingertips
the roughness of the bark. Using all our senses allows us to use the sanctuary
as a place that evokes our emotion, reaching our subconscious paradigms,
giving us the opportunity to express anger, grief, fear, desolation, in
an internal environment which is wholly and naturally supportive. We can
also feel the exhilaration of joy and ecstasy in such a place, strengthening
our ability to reach the positive and creative.
Ritual in the tradition is sometimes simply a journey to this inner sanctuary
to find an inner calm and sense of well-being. Often it is enough just to
be there, to stretch out on the grass and watch the stars above the trees,
to sit by the water and, eyes closed, let go into the sound of the surf.
When the inner sanctuary is secure and we are confident in our ability
to reach it, to understand its language, it is possible to journey there
and perform rituals that are more complex. Such rituals will have a clear
impact on the self, touching spirit around us, but if it is to have an immediate
effect on our outer world some physical act still needs to done. If it isn’t,
however, the effects of inner change will gently seep out anyway.
As with so many aspects of Druid ritual and practice, the inner temple
can also be a doorway to worlds beyond the imagination, a place where we
encounter spirit as spirit; a place where spirit manifests its creativity
in forms that, through the mundane world, it is hard to perceive. While
adventuring in these otherworlds of spirit can be dramatically more potent,
in other ways the effect is the same: we develop our ability to see and
hear in an environment where the wide skies of potential are that much richer,
and our responsibility for every step we take is vividly obvious.
Sometimes there is a fine line between our imagination and the worlds
beyond. To some it is easy to reach the otherworlds, the natural barrier
of doubt that slides in during childhood never having made much impression
on their beliefs. Other people spend a great deal of time trying to break
through. It can be easier to accept that the worlds beyond are still within
the imagination, a level of surrender having been reached that allows us
to believe we have moved into another place. Clear intent, responsibility
and surrender are all powerful tools of exploration and change, and if these
are being used well the metaphysics and neurological analysis of soul realities
become a matter for interest and not validation.
On some level we know if we are fooling ourselves or really making progress
(even if only in retrospect).
The Circle Cast
One of my teachers told me clearly that any temple created by a priest
should, at the end of the rite, leave no more trace on the environment than
the energy humming in the air. He was not a lover of stone circles but a
priest of the forest who could walk upon the ground and leave no footprint
behind him.
The value and beauty of a momentary temple is profound. There is an exquisite
feeling to knowing that, even after an amazingly transformative ritual experience,
perhaps adorned with flowers, candles, incense, flowing robes and more,
when the closing comes and everything is packed away, no sign is left of
our having been there. There is left a sense that it was an extraordinary
dream, and the entirety of the experience is carried away as our own.
Where there is no outer structure, be it a building or circle of stones,
or even a circle of trees, the need to create the boundary of a ritual temple
is more exacting. Not only does this hold the focus of attention, but it
contains the energy of the ritual in one place, allowing us to keep a sense
of sanctuary, intimate space, even when there are no physical borders or
walls.
In modern Druidry this is done by casting a circle. By walking the circumference,
the edge of the temple space, we draw in the air and upon our minds the
boundary line. We can use an outstretched finger, a wand of consecrated
wood, a sacred dagger, or any such thing (and each leaves a different impression
according to our vision, our associated beliefs and expectations), our intention
being the most important part of the action.
It is possible to extract the temple space entirely from time and place,
cutting the circle out of the web that connects it to the rest of reality,
as if we had closed and barred the doors of the temple. Nothing done within
the circle can affect the world outside it, until the circle is opened,
and at the same time nothing in the world outside can touch those within
the temple, the energy remaining contained and detached.
In a family rite, or a ritual held in public, or with those attending
who are not completely familiar with the form, binding a circle so tightly
cast is not appropriate. The energy of those present must be allowed to
flow more easily, the world still to some extent influencing those in the
ritual through its process. It is not expected that the poignancy of shared
intimate space is reached or retained for long. In such a rite, the temple
location is still scribed to hold the attention and energy focus in one
place, but the circle is not detached; instead there is a weaving of souls
together, an understanding of an intention shared. A temple like this may
be marked out with music, with flowers or seeds scattered, or simply by
holding hands.
Choosing a Temple Space
If choice is available, intuition is the first tool when choosing a place
to work a ritual. An open mind, without assumptions or expectations, will
make a more sound decision than one constrained by hopes and premonitions.
It is usually best simply to be led by opportunity. Doors open before
us and we step through, tasting the air, wondering, watching. Seeing the
location in a vision, dreaming it is right then searching it out, can be
a wonderful experience, but can be equally frustrating. Not all visions
are prophecies; far more are projections of hopes and fears. Clarifying
our intent, as simply as possible, asking for inspiration and walking the
steps gently, will more likely take us to where the ritual will be appropriate,
accepted and beautifully held.
Once a location has been found, the spirits of place should always be
asked if it would be appropriate for the ritual to be performed within their
energetic space. This is not a formality. The trees and the grass, the birds
and beetles, the ancestral spirits and the faerie folk, all will be affected
by the energy of a ritual as much or more than they will influence the ritual’s
process. Of course, it would take some time to ask every creature, seen
and unseen, for their permission, even if that were possible. Most places
will have a governing spirit, a key feature in the local environment, such
as a large oak, a line of rhododendrons, a burial site, some feature which
obviously affects the energy and life flow of the area. Simply asking the
guardian spirit of a place for its acceptance is usually enough.
The response must be certain. Even if the person who asks can’t
hear the voice of spirit, the energy will change. An approving smile brings
a wash of clear and easy energy, allowing the ritual to begin without a
hitch. A strong sense of the spirits moving away should always be accepted
as a sign of no and the ritual should be relocated if it is to be done at
all.
Doubt must be acknowledged. It may not mean that the spirits are unhappy
but that some element of the rite is wrong, badly thought out, disrespectful.
In my experience it is usually the case that doubt expresses a misplaced
assumption. In other words, when the spirits are asked if a ritual can be
done, they (together with our own subconscious) pick up on the whole intent
and its potential, and when they question the validity of our expectations
we feel the doubt. We might be assuming the cows in the field play no part,
or the rain will stay away, or the baby will sleep, or ... Checking our
intention and our expectations, then asking the guardian spirits again,
can clear the doubt. If it doesn’t, it is usually best to relocate
or reschedule.
An unwanted ritual can be seriously detrimental, leaving traces of negative
energy in the participants for a very long time, sometimes even years.
Some temples, such as forest groves, will thrive on the energy of ritual.
A grove might adapt to the group who celebrates beneath its canopy, happy
to accept its offerings, the music of its creativity and laughter, sharing
the process utterly. Such a grove can become established, with well-trodden
paths leading to it through the forest, the trees growing strong and proud
with the attention.
Sometimes a glade will support a ritual group for a while, its spirits
curious and willing to interact with the people, until the rituals performed
there start to influence the glade’s energy, altering the trackways
(both physical or energetic). The group’s presence has become too
much and is no longer welcome; it is time to move on. It is important if
using a location outside, and especially if that place is in an area of
wilderness or seldom touched by humanity, to be highly sensitive to the
spirits of place and their changing tides.
More Permanent Temples
Even an established temple needs to be asked if it is felt appropriate
for a ritual to take place. Asking the caretakers and/or landowners is an
appropriate first step, for they often express the will of the spirits they
protect, especially if they have lived and worked with the place intimately
for some time. When gathered on the day, with the ritual intention clear,
the guardian spirits of the place should be asked as well.
It also shouldn’t be assumed that because a place is an ancient
stone circle, or other old human-made temple, it will be amenable to human
contact still. There are circles out on the moors, deep in the forests and
valleys, high on the mountains, that are more populated now by the spirits
of place, the wind and the rain and the prickly heather, the faerie and
devas. Such old places have become unaccustomed to the noise and clumsy
action of human beings and are more likely to play tricks than support sensitive
rituals.
Where there is permission offered, stone circles can be glorious places
to perform ritual. Some circles in the Pretannic Isles have a history of
religious practice dating back some seven or eight thousand years, from
the earliest archaeological traces of burial and sacrifice, through wooden
structures and standing stones, to circles, offerings and later burials,
to the present day’s reflections and extensions of traditions. When
the history of one place is so strong for that long, it is possible to allow
the mind to move further back still, thousands of years, imagining our ancestors
reaching for their own connections with the powers and spirits of nature,
searching for sanctuary, for peace and freedom from fear. At such places
it is possible too to look forward into the future when our descendants
will be making their offerings still.
Lone standing stones, carved stones, places that were obviously marked
by our ancestors as places of power, used as altars for focus and offerings
to the gods and the dead, are also used by Druids of today. Momentary rituals
of thanksgivings and prayers, enriched with offerings, and more formal rites,
using the stones as altars in the same way, have the same energy around
them, the scent of the ancestors, teachers, watchers. At these places, the
need to honour the spirits of place is paramount, for without it any connection
made is not only disrespectful to the place, but also to our ancestors and
our heritage, to the land itself and the flow of life’s awen.
But stone circles are not all ancient. Stone circles and altars are being
built in gardens, both wild and suburban, across the land. Indeed, when
I put my house on the market a few years ago, the agent told me that the
stone circle was the main reason why the place was sold so quickly - in
fact, it went within a day. My circle in that garden was nine foot across,
made of stones dug from a derelict Somerset mine by a cave-diving friend
who was clearing it for exploration. They were little more than 18 inches
high, some sparkling with crystal, washed and shaped by centuries of underground
water flows. It was an exquisite circle, a fire pit in the middle around
which we sat late into the night.
There are some Druids who are now building much bigger circles, using
eighteen ton stones, erecting them very successfully using neolithic technology
of logs and hemp rope ... and sweet talking the stone spirits. Such large
circles can be created to align with solar and lunar tides, with surrounding
sacred spaces, with the magnetic currents, so attuning the temple to the
larger flows of earth’s energy.
Druids are also planting groves of trees to be used as sacred sites, both
on private land and in town parks and gardens in cooperation with local
councils. Some groves are beautifully created with each variety being carefully
chosen for its magical and folkloric significance.
Creating sacred space that is built to last, in the form of stone circles,
labyrinths and shrines, with wooden structures, planting trees and tending
groves, allows us to view our spiritual journey within a wider picture.
Temples built now we will leave to our descendants, as our ancestors have
left us their sacred stones and altars, together with the wisdom that these
places still contain. Perceiving the value of our lives and our responsibility
for our legacy in terms of centuries or even millennia can only be healthy.
