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Why are we chosen or choose to be Druids? We all search at some point in our lives for the answers to deep and meaningful questions. We all need that deep understanding and knowing of our roots, our ancestors and the world within which we live. Without this we may stumble through life with a very blinkered and limited view, we may not feel the hurt or pain as a mighty tree is cut down to make way for a nightclub. We may sail through life blissfully unaware of all that is and yet to be. So why do we, as Druids, step upon this path of knowing, understanding, for the responsibility to ourselves, others, the world around us, the tradition and the ancestors and indeed the old gods can weigh heavily upon our shoulders. We have no book of do's and don'ts. We have no 'thou shall not’s' so we can still stumble through the undergrowth even as Druids. For me it's about connection and interconnectedness, developing an understanding of the natural world beyond the reality of the roughness of the tree's bark, the sweetness of the bird song and the cold of the rain. Seeing the spirit flow through all life and death, the cycle of our lives and the cycle of the earth as one and the same process. The empowerment, inspiration, wisdom and healing this can bring far out reaches any words expressed within these pages. I came to Druidry through an understanding and knowledge of Witchcraft and an encounter with a Neolithic long barrow at a time in my life when death was but a dream and life was a burden weighing too heavy upon my heart. This long barrow was my home, I had come home and the Druid within was awakened. For me following Druidry was an awakening of some deep ancestral memory that I had forgotten; a deep and personal encounter with the old gods, the ancestors and the spirits of this ancient sacred site. Never fitting in comfortably with the regime of the coven, the grove allowed my spirit to soar; the freedom of my spirituality was echoed in the freedom of the animals in the greenwood, the leaves as they rattle in the spring time breeze. With the beat of my deer skin drum I was lead, taught, inspired and guided along the birch lined paths of the Bard. With the essence of the trees and the animals, the depth of the cauldron I was initiated and reborn along the yew lined path of the Ovate. With the encounter of the old gods and my ancestors of bloodline and spiritual heritage I was empowered along the oak lined path of the Druid. The joy, healing, wisdom and inspiration this has and still continues to give is overwhelming, the joy in all that I do, the inspiration in all my work is like the cauldron as its magical liquor boils and overflows the edge, it is, as Emma Restall-Orr calls it, the ecstasy of the Awen. I wanted to share this with others, to help others experience this living vibrant tradition. To drink of the ecstasy of the Awen and to be open to all that this brings, to the depths and the heights, the pain and the joy and the intertwining of our souls and the soul of the land. After ten years working alone, I stepped out of the undergrowth, still stalking in the shadows, and began to share my experience of Druidry. Yet this was not my tradition, my land, my site, my knowledge, my teaching - how can anyone own this - they can't! We are but custodians, guardians, keepers of the tradition. Therefore I could never teach, but only share my knowledge and experiences with those who what to share this with me. When I first considered running workshops and events, I wanted to take it out of the cosy confines of a hall; to get people really connecting with the elements and the natural world. Working on both a physical and spiritual level to reconnect and heal the divide between humanity and the earth herself. What has been amazing is the amount of 'spiritual development groups' that have invited me to run workshops or give talks, even the local spiritualist church (gasp!). Taking drums into the local hospital during national nursing week; allowing the staff to drum away the stress and tension’s work, talking to midwives about rites of passage for expectant and new mothers. I’m constantly humbled by the way people quickly tune into some deep longing or ancestral memory to bring about teaching, inspiration and healing. However, this is not the reason I am a Druid or follow Druidry. I would still stand alone at the winter solstice at the local sacred site, to honour the season, our mother and the spirits of the place. I still sing and dance through the trees of the woodland; I still spend hours of deep communion with my ancestors, the old gods and spirits of my grove. So why me? Everyone who is reading this I am sure has the ability to share their knowledge and teachings with others, each having their slant upon their expression Druidry. This is what makes a living vibrant tradition; this is what working with the Awen is all about. Go live, breathe and simply be the Druid in your heart upon our sacred land. It’s a cool, cloudless night and pulling my thick dark green cloak around me, I trundle through the woodland. Driven by a strange desire and sense of presence rising with in me, I hear the lady of the greenwood singing her haunting refrain and smell the lusty, musky smell of the Lord as he hunts those who have been and yet to be. The stars hang silently against the inky blackness of the still night air. The fox, the badger and the bat begin their journey for nourishment. As the darkness descends even further my eyes become sharp, my ears are pricked, my talons grow and my wings unfold in praise of slumber of the greenwood As I reach my destination the doors to the other realm swing open, I am immersed in the bliss of creation and destruction, the nothingness that is everything and the desire begins to be fulfilled and fuelled I greet the guardian spirit of my grove who responds with open arms. The old Gods are called and are calling and my intention of peace and love is declared The Fire sprites leaping into the dark Air, licking the edge of my brow, the Water flows around my circles edge and the Earth beckons me below. As the heartbeat of the Earth begins to rise, I descend into the womb and rise into the trees with wings of freedom. 'Fly, Fly my lad and drink in the ecstasy of Freedom', my guide pushes me from my branch and with a moment of panic and a moment of ecstasy, I am that Kestrel fair. Rob Wilson Tooth & Claw Issue 13 Lughnasadh 2002 |
