The Moontide Retreat
September 2003
This is my very personal account of the druid moontide
retreat and a telling of my own special journey. Others may of course
paint a very different landscape depicting another picture, but I hope
all who read will find inspiration to attend.
Holycombe ... Time out of time
As a small child I eagerly listened to fairy tales about
whole villages that mysteriously vanished in time only to appear again
to chosen people or on certain days. But now sitting in the top meadow,
at the edge of the ancient woodland, overlooking Holycombe, I feel as
if I myself am now lost in the midst of time, caught up by an illusion
of reality, suspended in a web.
For there is no concept of time here, in fact I felt
it perceptibly slow down, shift and stop as I entered another world of
reality. Sitting on the grass in that beautiful fecundant meadow, allowing
the warm September sun to cast lazy rays upon me I felt transported back
into another time.
There’s a glamour around the valley, as if some
ancient magician had some many years ago wrought a potent and powerful
spell and cast it around the whole area.
The evocative sounds of a flute being played in the woods took me further
into the reality that was mine and mine alone. It could almost have been
Pan hiding in that luscious green foliage. In my reality it probably was.
The trees at the edge of the wood whispered to me and
breathed their secrets upon my face. They called, they teased, they enticed
like a playful lover. They welcomed me in. They led me further down the
path into the illusion that is my present reality. The more I seek the
more I need to seek.
The dimensions are thin up there in the woods. You get
a sense that they strongly protect their own and would soon protest at
unwelcome callers. The sudden, sharp flapping of wings heralded a reminder
or even a warning to take heed.
I crossed the threshold and entered the domain of the
woodland spirits. Once in the woods time seemed to shift again, even go
backwards causing me to feel slightly nauseous and dizzy. The greenery
closed in on me but in a womb like and rather protective way.
I walked along the well-trodden path in an almost trance
like state, savouring every sight, smell and sound and yet at the same
time allowing it all to wash over me. I stopped and shivered by a sight
of brilliant, blood red, juicy berries, a symbol of life itself. Yet,
why did I shiver? It was in fact a powerful portent of death in the coming
winter months when the dark lady walks her own solitary walk on these
paths
The realization of time as a circle, as a cycle rather than linear seemed
more certain than ever in the heart of those ancient woodlands. For how
often in our lives do we start doing something and then for whatever reason
find ourselves right back where we started. And indeed, miraculously this
is where I now found myself. Although I felt as if time had stopped I
had actually walked a full circle and found myself to be right back where
I had started.
Circles within circles………..Time out
of time.
All paths lead to ... ?
And so after the afternoon workshop with Bobcat where
we were taken on an inner journey in order to connect with the spirit
of a tree or place that was special and sacred to each of us as individuals,
I thus set out to find my very own special tree, in that very special
place where I had encountered it before.
As I entered the meadow at the end of the garden I called
out to my tree and a reply came back upon the breeze. I was so touched
that I burst into tears. The emotion, the powerful experience of this
retreat had started working. I strode out across the meadow, quietly sobbing,
letting the troubles and fears of the last year pour out into the ground.
I stopped as I crossed the threshold into the woods,
asked for acceptance and gave my thanks. The sacredness and serenity were
all around and I felt that I had been truly accepted. It felt like a vast
cathedral where a whisper would become an echo in the green canopy above.
Everything around me seemed magnified in intensity or was it just my perceptions
that had opened just that little bit further?
As I made my way to “my tree” and of course
knowing where to go, I started (in the back of my mind) to yearn for the
experience of getting lost. I wanted to embrace the feelings of fear,
panic and aloneness. When I have been to my tree and connected (I thought)
then I will head off in another direction and see what happens.
I was happy meandering and collecting feathers as I made
my way along the forest path. I walked and meditated, thinking that any
moment now I will be there – just round the next bend ...
The forest however had other plans. The path didn’t
look familiar; I was higher up, deeper in than I had ventured before.
It was as if the forest floor had moved, shifted under my very feet. I
was still walking in the direction intended but on a totally different
path.
So ok, I thought, this is fine. The forest obviously
wants me in a totally different place this time. From now on nothing is
planned, I will simply follow my instincts. I made my way up an incline
and found myself scrambling though thick clumps of bracken as the path
gradually disappeared. There was a sharp decline to my left and I had
to be careful not to loose footing and slide down one side. I walked further
and further up, deeper and deeper in. Then breathless and dirty, I saw
it, in a semi clearing, set to one side of an ash grove in a beautifully
rounded space. An old, ancient beech tree whose spirit I knew I had come
to connect with.
In front of the tree there were two warm moss covered
stumps – one of which I eagerly rested upon as I removed my boots
and socks and the other I used as my forest altar. I made an offering
but for a long time I just gazed at this wonderful being in front of me
and bathed in it’s aura. When I eventually did make my connection
it was in a way very personal and appropriate to me and will be forever
in my heart.
Afterwards as I sat writing this journal, the creatures
of the forest were unaware I was sitting there. Noisy squirrels scurried
across the forest carpet in front of me and scampered up and down trees
and across overhead bowers.
In that moment I felt a part of a whole, a whole that
is sometimes easy to loose sight of when we struggle alone with our own
dark fears and emotions. And yet up there in that woodland by myself,
I felt anything but alone.
The longer I sat in the presence of that wise spirit
the more embraced and acknowledged I felt and the more I realised that
I did not want to leave.
I looked a squirrel directly in the eye as it chomped
on a nut. I wonder what it thought of me and why I was there?
I wriggled my bare feet on the dry, warm earth and reluctantly
knew it was almost time to go back. I had to linger just that little bit
longer though, a moment more to connect, to feel the energy rise up through
my veins. I parted but vowed to return during my meditations. Then, only
then did I ask for guidance back through the forest where there was no
path to follow. I was lost, hopelessly – hadn’t a clue, but
worried, fearful, alone I wasn’t.
I let go and followed another path; an ancient path that
I knew led to my hearts desire.
There and back again
Not wanting to miss a moment of the last day of the retreat
I was up early, had a light breakfast and once again made my way across
the meadow towards the woods. I felt more grounded and positive than I
had done in ages. Whether it was the raucous drumming around the camp
fire or the silent ritual of the previous evening when my quarter portrayed
Earth or just the peace and solitude I can’t say, but maybe it was
a little bit of everything. Maybe just a little bit of magic too. All
I can say is, I felt better than I had felt in ages.
On entering the woods for the last time I felt totally
accepted, as if I was breathing the same breath as the spirit of the woodland
and my footsteps walking to the rhythm of an ancient heartbeat. Maybe
it was the heart beat of the land itself. This time I put my trust in
the spirit of the wood to take me and lead me, wherever. I just wanted
to be. As I walked, I let the powerful, uninhibited drumming from around
the campfire two nights hence lift and inspire me. I needed to keep that
strong rhythmic beat alive within me. So as I walked I started chanting
and composing drumming rhythms for use in my rituals at home. I jotted
down a few words to write up later.
Time held no meaning or purpose as I continued walking
those luscious green highways. I noticed I was gradually being led up
an incline to the shady and mysterious pinewood. On my left was a steep
decline where sparsely growing trees were hanging on with a tenacious
vigour. Across and through the treetops stunning glimpses of the far side
of the valley could momentarily be glimpsed. The church bell rang out
in the distance. I don’t know why but I felt strangely drawn to
the delicious, dark gloom of the pines. Even though I thought I was not
going to stray very far off the path I found myself wandering deeply into
the darkness. Shafts of ethereal sunlight lasered down from above onto
the bare, soft earth. There was a totally different feel here, much different
to the lushness down below. Almost a more male energy I thought.
Suddenly I was shook up out of my dreamy train of thought
by the commotion of hasty hoof beats echoing heavily on the ground ahead
of me. A young stag and his female entourage, as surprised by me as I
was by them, were skitting ahead of me. The small herd momentarily froze
before the stag hastily shooed his ladies to safety, giving me a quick,
sharp look. I was surprised at how quickly they vanished into the shadows.
Silence.
I sat down in the quietness and shut my eyes, contemplating
on the last few days. Everyone in the group had their own special tales
to tell of their own intimate journeys and what they intended to take
back into their own lives from this weekend. As I sat I wanted to savour
every moment, I wanted to soak up and remember everything. I wanted to
paint a picture in my mind that I could access and enter into at my own
invitation. The sounds, the smells, the sensations, I let them all soak
into my soul.
When I was ready I walked towards the direction of the
path again, into the sunlight once more and continued my accent. Shortly
I came to the edge of the woodland and stood on it’s rim peering
out over agricultural land into another world – the world of man
and of farming. Horse riders had stopped at the edge of the field and
dogs were being walked around it’s perimeter. It was after all Sunday
morning. I stepped back into the coolness of the woods and onto the path
again, following it round yet further.
As the path started on it’s decent I was stopped
in my tracks by the smallest of creatures suddenly scurrying across my
path before disappearing into a small-concealed burrow. It had almost
vanished before I realised that it was a tiny shrew, obviously about it’s
daily business. I stopped and waited for a second glimpse, but small mammals
in the woods have more pressing engagements awaiting them than my pleasure.
The path continued down and round and the metallic chiming
from the church seemed ever nearer and louder. I was beginning to wonder
just where I was and where I would exit the woods when I arrived as if
by magic at the exact spot I had entered. I spun around in amazement thanking
the spirits of the woods for leading me right back again. I thus said
goodbye to this lovely place, knowing that I would return again.
Back at Holycombe I knew that a delicious lunch would
soon be served and I made my way across the meadow with a mixture of joy
and sadness in my heart. The weekend had been such an uplifting experience
for everyone, in so many different ways, that I am sure like myself; many
people would be making their way back to this very special place.
(Thanks to Bobcat and Red for making this retreat
a fulfilling experience for everyone who attended)
Moonwillow
16/09/03
(((O)))
