The Nature of Druidry – an article by Rob Wilson
Questing, searching, our humanity reaches out to understand, to know, to find answers, to find our place within the world. Some find this within the secular world, others through spiritual practice. Often neither is done consciously but seems to creep upon us, and we find a sense of ‘coming home’ or awareness or dare I say spiritual enlightenment.
Druidry allows me to quite simply live, breath, understand a little and find a place where I can express my spirituality in this world; forming, shaping and reaching out to Nature as my soul develops its sacred connections, finding inspiration.
While Druidry is certainly not a therapy, Druidry helped me to understand the mind shattering experience of life’s rough, raw tides, of the true vulnerability and power of our insanity. When the trees, birds, stones and bones of our ancestors spoke to me without words, I began to value my insanity in what can be sometimes a rather insane world. The healing came when I knew how to find a way to walk in the perceived sanity of everyday reality, yet still nourished by the insanity of the so called non-ordinary reality.
This is all rather poetic and grand in words yet probably the best I can find to describe what Druidry means to me, however let me try to convey a little of how my Druidry is spun into the web of my life; expressing a little of how I perceive Modern Druidry.
The Nature of Nature
The essence of my Druidry is forged in my sacred relationships to nature, in all its forms. Here I find my spiritual expression and understanding of deity, the raw, vital forces of nature. As a Druid I constantly strive to be open to the natural world around me. To allow the divine inspiration, the flow of spirit to flow freely through my being, I dare to drink from the cauldron of inspiration; the Awen is what I seek! By re-affirming my connection to the ebb and flow of the natural rhythms of the Earth and my life, of the setting and rising of the Moon and Sun, stars and seasons. I am aware of the Trees that surround my grove, the birds within their branches, the spirit that shine within them all. I am aware of the earth, the rocks and the stones and soil beneath by feet, the boundless wonder of the deep, dark cavern. I am aware of the infinite sky as I soar to freedom through the clouds and feel the wind beneath my wings.
Questing for spiritual expression through the Druid tradition is ultimately a quest for understanding your soul expression and your relationship to the world around you, to the ancestors and the divine. Finding those moments of total and utter connection feeds the soul, expands our consciousness and understanding of the natural world and our selves. To feel the heart beat of the earth and the rhythm of nature coincide with your own heart beat leads to a deeper understanding of our connection to the ebb and flow. However, it takes courage, determination and trust to brake through our natural protective systems that are in-built in our modern day psyche. With practice, determination and enthusiasm these barriers begin to brake down, and allow us to open fully to the wisdom, teaching and inspiration of the natural world, the ancestors, and the gods and indeed ourselves.
Once we allow ourselves to be open to the ebb and flow of Nature we begin to feel and develop a sacred relationship, we become empowered. We breathe in the energies of the natural world; we reconnect with the source of breath, of life itself. As a Druid I’m honoured by this knowing, and offer sincere thanks to that natural force that initiated the awakening. We give an exchange of energy, a gift of flowers, songs, poetry or prayer. The fleeting moments of that magical, spiritual experience become longer lasting. The experience of the spiritual moment becomes the spiritual ecstasy that feeds our soul, knowledge and understanding. The moment we find our feet within Druidry is when we realise that the ecstasy is to be found within ourselves, for we too are made of the same matter as stars, trees, rocks and animals. All too often in our present day lives, we feel disconnected or separate from the natural world. We have to struggle and plan and catch fleeting moments to enjoy the places of wild beauty, the tranquillity of a garden, to walk the dog! However, by making a conscious effort to feel the earth beneath our feet, to feel the wind in your hair, the rain on your face, the sun upon your skin, our Inner brilliance, our Soul responds. We feel alive and a part of the flow of energy once more. We are fed and drink from the cauldron of inspiration, as our pathways of perception are opened through the deeper contact with the natural world.
Suddenly we soon come to understand a passion and zest for life, which burns soul deep. The touch of our lovers lips upon our naked skin, the wonder of a spring flower poking its delicate head above the soil, the joy of the freedom of a kestrel’s flight, the bare armed trees that stand out against the winter’s sky. We find ourselves wanting to dance with passion that flows through the world and our veins. Pounding, pulsing to our very own heart beat. We are touched by the flames of empowerment and are changed, transformed to the simplest of elements to be reshaped and directed into our true soul essences, our soul sings its story and truths with energy vital. When our awareness opens to be filled with the full force of nature, we have to find the courage to also face the tide of change. Just as the season’s role out across the year, in a cascade of wonderful transformation.
The Nature of Ancestors
My Druidry is also rooted in my connection to the ancestors, the dead of our land and blood. Those of my genetic inheritance, whose blood I share, whose land I dwell upon. I find the courage to be open to their presence and their dreaming, and listen to their stories in the stone temples, the womb-tombs, the wooded groves of oak and ash and yew, the buildings of London’s streets! When I seek inspiration and wisdom from the ancestors I reach back into the darkest past of our human perception, when the dead were cared for as much, if not more than, the living. A time when life was sacredly held by the close awareness and knowing of the magical power of the natural world around them.
Our ancestors made us who we are today! Their life, love, wisdom, foolishness, pain, laughter, blood, sweat and tears, their death, brought us here, their decedents, to this place of now. And in Druidry we honour this; we embrace the spirit of the ancestors that still shimmer within dark chalky grey clay, green rich stories of our land, our blood and bone, of this earth. It must be said that this is not just a romantic notion of looking to the past with rose tinted glasses. Nor is it a validation of the Druid’s journey, here and now because of their ancient roots or ancestry.
Full bellied tomb sits on the edge of a field, green shoots echoing the seasons of re-birthing, the greening of our land. Offerings made and we sink low to the ground and humbly enter this sacred womb-tomb, this temple to the dead, the ancestors of this land. Darkness fills our lungs and we see with the touch of our hand, sinks on cold, moist stone. The brilliance of the darkness allows our eyes to stare into the stone of the next world, shifting, moving, and a chamber long forgotten. Apprentice with fully attuned intuition burns the ancient sent of amber, as resin smokes fills and hangs in the air, spirits stirring and dance on its caress of the chambered tomb. As my existence is pushed beyond the boundaries of my nemeton, the sound of rattle shifts our minds, open, flying free, the posture of a young man at the chamber entrance, deep and rich with honour and knowledge of death, of his duty of care to the ancestors. He is the Bone Signer, he who dwells on the edge of existence, he alone who enters the tomb, arranges bones of the dead and sings and keeps their stories alive. This is his realm; this is his existence in this world and the next.
From these early human communities, my vision showed that there were those who found themselves on the edge of their society, their tribe. They where probably both feared and respected for their duties and roles in this society placed them in direct, physical and spiritual contact with the next world; they were the mediators between the existences, between life and death itself. These were the Bone Singers, those who lamented at the deathbed, and those who prepared the body and placed them within their timbered mortuary, palisade structures. Here the natural process of decay to occurs, with crow-ravens devouring their physical existence. Then the Bone Singers would have taken the stripped bones, with full honour and respect to the chambered tombs. Community gathering to make offerings, prayers, expressing their deep-seated grief, born in fear and respect of the dead, The Bone Singer laying out the bones of his ancestors, placing them with true intent amongst the collection of other bones, some are painted with ochre or woad, herbs, plants, leaves and resins are scattered and burnt. He sings and begins to care for the bones of another ancestor, deep seated within the earth womb-tomb.
I feel that our ancestors knew that death was but a phase in our journey. Just as sacred as the time of birth, death was honoured. The wisdom, knowledge and experiences of a person, the sprit, lived on. It is as if the huge ancestral cauldron was kept boiling in the next world, each persons drop of inspiration was added to the existing, overflowing well of ancestral knowing. The journey through the ancestral realm teaches us of the reality of death. It draws us in like a vortex that is both frightening and exciting. If we allow once again ourselves to slip through the otherworldly gate to meet the ancestors, we can sometimes as first meet our own inner fears. Insanity, death, darkness all has to be embraced. We need to unlearn our childhood adoption of the fear of the dark; we need to accept our insanity that most can balance within our modern day normality. We need to understand the process of death, not only our own death but also the death of others, the death of the seasons and endings and beginnings in all things. This process for me began by walking in my local woods at the dead of night, allowing all my senses to guide me ‘safely’ through the twisting and winding paths. Here the ancestors of these woods began to become interested in my nighttime wanderings. I would call to them, to guide me, teach me, to accept my presence in their realm.
Within Druidry, we honour, accept and build our relationship with the ancestors of those of our immediate bloodline, our own family’s ancestral lineage, and this is our immediate and most important connection to the ancestors. Our bloodline is honoured, accepted and known to flow through us to our descendants. Indeed without true spirit connection to our blood ancestry, all other ancestor work will be meaningless. My greatest teachers from the realms of the ancestors are my grandparents, whose funerals I had the honour of playing a vital role. Often appearing in dreams, a memory invoked by catching a glimpse of their photo, a certain piece of music and most often the scent of their presence. As I visit a local Neolithic long barrow, I make prayers and offerings to not only the dead of my land, but also of my blood.
As a Druid who is inspired by the Trees, Stones and Bones, I grasp at words to convey a somewhat intangible essence that holds, guides, challenges and directs a belief, but not blind faith, a knowing but not knowing it all; honouring the wonder and mystery of what I don’t understand as much as that I dare come to taste the rich, sweetness of life, the sweet pain of love. I hear the stories of land, of ancestors, of gods in the rattle of the leaves as the wind blows through the branches of trees. I taste a thousand drumbeats and tears as I drink from a local stream, and I know that in some small way I’m apart of it all and I hope I do that dreaming, consciously, ethically, with peace, truth, honour and wakefulness – the nature of my Druidry.