Where I'm at after 2020

It's been a long time since I felt focused enough to write a blog post here. I am now a few months into 2021 and the other day was startled to see my google photo memories, that pop up on my phone to remind me of pictures I took a year ago, two years ago, etc. It made me realize it's been over a year since the pandemic started rushing across the world. A year since our governor shut down our state, since the kids left school to remain home the rest of the year. As I looked through the photos of our first days of "homeschool" last year, the beginning of my pandemic sourdough starter, the signs we made to hang on the porch, the first masks I sewed. . .it has been really emotionally difficult.

Back then I had no idea what to expect and for our family, it wasn't that bad. I feel guilty that I feel so empty and exhausted because honestly, our lives were almost normal for this entire past year. I realize how very, very lucky we are. We did not lose any loved ones to Covid. In our family, no one tested positive for covid even though we had some bad colds and thought we might have had it. The boys played baseball. The kids began school in August as usual. Besides staying home a a little more than usual and wearing masks when we went out, life was very much the same as always. 

Why do I feel so exhausted? Why do I feel like I have been straining against an incredible weight, unable to lift or move it? Now that it seems like covid is actually getting under control and things are slowly returning to more of a pre-covid-normal state, I am so tired. I feel angry and old and fragile and empty and like a year passed by with nothing getting done, no progress being made. 

After the start of this year I descended into a very very dark place and it took me a good two months to come up a little. I had no motivation to do anything. I know from past experience that each winter is hard for me and gets harder as I get older but this year was way worse than I have ever experienced. If I didn't have my kids to get up for each day I probably would have laid in bed and stopped eating and drinking. 

 I shouldn't have felt this way. There is no logical explanation for it. My kids are healthy. I think I was and am, in some part, grieving the loss of last year - not because we didn't have it, but because I was so on edge, day to day, reading the news and worrying, I missed out on enjoying my kids like I should have. Like I normally do. I think maybe that is why I feel like I lost last year. I didn't feel the emotional and mental freedom to enjoy each day and my kids and now I am realizing that. I think also I am grieving the loss of that year of growth I wanted to have for myself. I wanted to do so much! Learn so much. Progress. And I didn't. Instead of a year of growing towards maturity I feel like I kind of already had a stunted peak and then began to wither and die. 

 I mean, I got a lot done last year, I think. I still did creative things and took a lot of outings into nearby outdoor spaces where my kids could run and play safely. While I felt that I could handle what every day brought I think I was on auto-pilot a lot. My grandma passed away in July and I am still extremely bitter than due to Covid I was unable to visit her before she died. I am angry. My heart burns and rages with the loss and the fact that due to fear of spreading infection, I could not see my dying grandmother in hospice. So while I did do things, the things I did didn't fulfill me like they usually do and half the year was overshadowed by the quick illness and loss of my grandmother. 

Pine woods at Samhein

How has this affected my path in OBOD? I have been thinking about that a lot as I've slowly come out of the dark few months of this year. For the first time I feel like I've had time to slow down and breathe and think about things I've put on the back burner. I've not gone through any gwersi booklets in over a year. I stopped following the OBOD groups on Facebook and haven't had any conversations with fellow OBODians for a long time. I haven't sat and consciously thought about the things I've learned for a long time. 

I think that at this present moment I feel like this past year and my experience in it has proven to me that the path of druidry is NOT about any organization or reading certain books and learning certain things at certain times. It's a mindset and philosophy that I think is very deeply intuitive in many people, including myself. This past year, especially after the death of my grandma, I found myself very often drifting into long bouts of memory of times when I was a little girl. Scenes from my past and the feelings and thoughts I had then ran in my mind like a constantly-on television. Sometimes it's been frighteningly hard to jolt myself out of that and focus on the present. But now, the dots are starting to connect for me. 

My memories have reminded me that this is who I am. That between this almost 35 year old woman and the little girl I was is a long line of dots and they all connect. The dots that came before me connect to who I was and who I am. Things I did as a child that seemed so weird to other people I still do, although perhaps in a different way. Perhaps the child I was knew more than I do now and instead of questioning it just accepted it as what felt correct and natural. 

I remember putting such significance on the turning of the months. I had a calendar in my room and every last day of the month I would clean my room very carefully and throw out everything that no longer was useful to me or held painful memories. Then, I could allow myself to turn to the next month with a clean and refreshed outlook. I remember laying under trees in my yard as a child and thinking up stories in my mind. Often I would tell them to my friends or my siblings. I wanted to, but didn't quite, believe in fairies. I was, however, very superstitious, "just in case". I felt that the rocks and trees I built forts on and under had names and were warm and sentient beings with their own memories and experiences. I felt that the rays of sun through the trees were paths to magical places that I could never quite get to. 

Art - drawing, writing, making music, writing songs - became the medium through which I COULD get to magical places. Reading also took me far away to places and people and times I deeply desired to connect to. Living so much in memory this past year has reinforced my knowledge that this druid path IS the path I have always intuitively wanted to follow. To honor the earth and draw comfort and knowledge from it. To honor my ancestors. To love my neighbors here in the world today.

After my grandmother passed away my aunt called me one day. She had been cleaning out my grandmas house and had come across a letter my grandmother wrote to me before she had even met me. In it, she describes her hope that I find beauty in the sunset and the sky, the flowers, the beautiful world I had been born into. Her words were written in long paragraphs, eloquently and with such tender joy and love. Another dot. I felt a surge of deep love for my grandmother as I heard the words she wrote almost 35 years ago. 

I made this dress for Solstice from scraps from my grandmothers sewing supplies and some of my own fabrics. 

After Christmas I shut down my Facebook and Instagram pages. I just could not mentally and emotionally handle the content I was seeing, although none of it was bad. It was just too much to look at and think about. I wanted to keep in touch with a few people so began a MeWe account where I could keep my circle very small and not have my timeline flooded with too much information. I followed a suggested page that posted paranormal articles from time to time (hey, I've alwyas been fascinated by that stuff even if I don't quite believe any of it!) One night I read an article that was an excerpt from a book about British folklore. I was drawn in and looked up the book and author so I could find a copy of of the entire work and read it. I found a free copy of the downloadable book - British Goblins: Welsh Folkore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and Traditions by Wirt Sikes. 

This is an old book written in the 1880s and enjoyable and easy to read. Wirt Sikes has a wonderful sense of humour that comes through in the way he tells his stories and I quickly sped my way through the book. I remembered that in my family tree on Ancestry.com I had recorded that my grandfathers great-grandfather was born in Wales. I looked it up again to be sure and yes, I had remembered right. My ancestor had been born in Flintshirt in 1854 and had come to America with his wife and son not quite thirty years later. I began to research more about the area my ancestor came from. At the same time, I was continuing reading Wirt Sikes book. Often at night while I was reading I would laugh at something I read and then feel an almost electric sensation. My arms would be covered in goose bumps. While every story I read was new to me, they were, at the same time, not. Almost every story recorded in that book I had thought of, in some form of resemblance, laying as a child under the trees in my yard. The fairies, the elves, the different kinds of fae creatures, the magical harps and fiddles, the ghosts and spirits and the traditions and superstitions. The book contained references to the pagan beliefs of the Welsh people, that still were kept alive despite centuries of Christianity. Connections to druidry. I was stunned and felt a little foolish for not realizing this before.

It has been such a real joy to continue researching Wales (Cymru!) and dreaming about maybe, possibly, someday visiting the country and traveling to the area my fathers family came from. In the darkness of the early year I clung to my reading and research with grateful desperation. It got me through a very dark time. I feel like in many ways I am discovering family I never knew exisited and finding myself part of something very wonderful and warm after feeling quite alone, in many ways, since I was very young. 

I haven't celebrated any OBOD sacred days very much this year, or last. After Beltane I stopped having the energy to look forward to and prepare for the special days with much enthusiasm. I noted them as they came, and that was about all. But this year I did celebrate St. David's Day on March 1st, with all my children. We prepared a meal from the cookbook First Catch your Peacock and watched the 1940 movie The Proud Valley starring Paul Robeson. 

I have been deeply researching the origins of Welsh national costume and have plans to make my own version sometime this year - and, what is more, I feel absolutely enthusiastic and excited about it! Is all that part of OBOD, part of the druid path? I think it is! While I want to soon get back to "proper" studies I am so grateful for having the opportunity to think more deeply about my own past and my own family connections. Doing so has only reinforced my ties to my ancestors and, at the same time, to the path of druidry. 

 Much love, Sarah

Beltane

Beltane this year seemed to be a very enormous deal to me. I still do not quite know why, as this celebration of love and fertility is not especially relevant to me, at least in the physical sense. But still, instinct must be trusted at times so this year, since I could not gather with the local druidic community (around here, that is the ADF), my daughter and I had our own small celebration in a nearby woods and my son came along to help us, though he has declined participation in such things.

We videoed our little ritual and I very laboriously downloaded Windows Movie Maker Pro and attempted to learn how to use it (its easy but its not great quality. . .I need practice! And WMMP isn't the best software, apparently, to use for such things. . .and I need to film in landscape not portrait. . .and use a microphone. . .😂) You can see our video here, on Youtube:

It was a very special time for all of us, and we certainly will go back to celebrate other special days. Until we can meet with our community safely again, the company of the woods is a very lovely substitute.

I shared this photo to a Druid group I am part of and one of the members messaged me, saying
that 3 separate spiritual entities can be seen in this photo; and that they felt peaceful and protective of my
daughter. I do not have that gift of visualizing spirits but I was so grateful for the sharing of  that obervation.

In the week that has followed since Beltane I have thought very much about the implications of this ceremony. When I began to study Druidry (neo-Druidry! Since, of course, we will never be "real" Druids) I was very taken back by the idea of ritual. It seemed. . .too churchy? Not authentic? Too ceremonious. Anyone can say certain words or do certain things or light candles or wave their arms grandly. It doesn't mean anything. It is empty.

But doing this felt right to me, at this time. I think I have found that ritual isn't in and of itself an act of honor or reverence - it is merely an outward expression of inward intention. One doesn't need to do any of this to be sincere or more "into it" than anyone else. All of it (and this is far less than most) - the robes, the setting, the candles, the words - they are merely very optional tools.

Of course, I've read similar statements before earlier on in my journey but never really personally felt the truth of them til now. It is a beautiful thing to allow ones feelings expression instead of keeping them inwards. This expression can take many forms. This is merely one form. It is not better or worse than any other form and it is only what felt right to me, now, this Beltane, this corona-virus Beltane of 2020.

This has led to many ideas for future blog post topics as well as more videos. I have so very much to say yet need to still find words to say what I wish; and I need to reflect more and find out what I have to teach myself from my own past. There is much there if I will but look. There is still so much to learn and so much to be grateful for, as I look both forward and back from this point of existence.

Me and Covid-19

After my last post I was swept up in a world I did not expect. Not really. As you all know, Covid-19 hit America hard in March and here in Ohio, our governor took early precautions. One by one the orders came tumbling in; school cancelled for 3 weeks, no gatherings over 100 people, then 50 people, then 10. All non essential businesses shut down. Stay home unless it's a necessary trip, for groceries, for prescription medication, for doctor visits, for those still needing to travel for work.

Maybe if I had been more in tune with what was going on in other parts of the world I would have not been hit so hard when all this came down. I chastise myself for my failure to be aware and to be concerned with what other people elsewhere were going through. It was incredibly selfish of me.

I am not a person who handles change well. Once things began to change I poured all my energy into adapting to those changes. But as soon as I had adapted, more changes came in. Although I am lucky to live in a rural part of Ohio where, so far, we have had less than ten confirmed cases in our area, I have struggled with the lack of control I have over this situation.

My studies through OBOD came to a grinding halt. I haven't touched my books for weeks or taken much time to think through things and learn and write down my thoughts and theories. My mental space has been filled with short little scenarios of worry and fear, interspersed with times I actually feel pretty happy and have enjoyed the beautiful spring unfolding and the slow pace of having all my family home with me and not going out. It's been so hard to focus on anything for very long. Even though I feel like I don't actually accomplish much during the day I go to bed absolutely exhausted at night and then lay awake for hours, tossing and turning and having stretches of anxiety that make me actually feel ill.

Marchs Full Worm Moon

Lately I have had the ability to take a deep breath and start to consider my studies again. I haven't read or written anything yet but even thinking about them is an improvement; progress; a step forward. It hit me that, like any belief system, one does not really know how well they adhere to any belief until one goes through a traumatic experience and all that is put to the test. This was the first real journey with Druidry - a journey where I have to toss out the maps and rely on what knowledge I've already gained and what my instincts are.

How has this experience so far influenced how I feel about Druidry?

I think my biggest take away so far is being thankful that I do have what little knowledge and experience I've managed to gain. On a practical level, the meditative exercises that I learned through the Bardic Grade, and daily practiced, and that have become a natural, unconscious part of my thinking, have been intensely used and so helpful. Basically, they help ground me. They help me pause and take a breath and, as some say, pull myself together. They are a filter for my fear and worry; disentangling them and enabling me to look at each one without the mess of the others around it. In this way, it is much easier to accept, deal with and release these as they come.

I am thankful that I am realizing how little control I have over anything. At the end of the day, the only thing I have control over is myself and my reaction to what is going on around and within me. I have had to let go of a lot of things I would much rather be able to control - my schedule, my routine, my little bit of free time, even the foods I cook to feed voracious and sometimes picky eater. I have to deal with a more chaotic and loud environment and for me, who needs quiet and alone time to feel peaceful, it stretches my levels of acceptance, of compromise and of finding new, creative ways to give myself what I need while also giving those around me what they need.

As always, nature gives me examples of all the things I have been learning. I am so grateful that we are still allowed the grace to go on nature walks and I have been utilizing that opportunity as much as possible. In the woods, things go on as they always have. There, you would never know a tragic virus is sweeping across the globe, claiming lives and debilitating others, and affecting families everywhere in some way. No one is untouched by this. But nature is serene; she is practical and strong. As humans shelter under orders she is reclaiming human-ravaged areas. The air is cleaner. She heals where she sees opportunity.

It encourages me to think that while part of me is affected by this virus, not all of me is. I am allowing worries to take over my  mind and become the part of me on which I focus almost exclusively. But nature shows me that while yes, part of the whole is suffering, that is not the whole. During this time I can look at areas where I can improve myself and my mind; places where I can gently pour my energy into healing. The virus does not define me, or us, or this world, or who we are in it.

I hope to get back to my books soon. Perhaps at night, when I cannot sleep, pulling out some passages would help soothe my mind. I have continued to play  music and write songs and poems and talk to others who are going through similar fears. Perhaps more than usual, because we are now by orders kept so far away from each other. I think when this is over I will be much more open about being physically demonstrative and will hug far more people more often and for longer.

Spring follows winter; summer then comes. I will wait and I will have faith that things will cycle round. I love my Mother and I love her children.

Examining the Past

Lately I have been thinking about how difficult it is for me to fully embrace Druidry without feeling guilt. I've been struggling a lot the past few months with my past belief systems and the mental conditioning I have had to deal with as I turn to, examine and embrace something I was taught was, to be frank, evil.

In my mind I can hear all the arguments and see the shocked, worried and disapproving expressions of many people in my life that I have, at one time or another, looked up to and valued the opinion of. Often when I think of these things I wince, I bow my head, and flush with embarrassment and shame. Then later I rebel against those thoughts and hate myself for being emotionally weak and for letting thoughts of what others may think of me influence who I am and what I think today. 

What I think. I feel anxiety based on what I think. That has appalled me. None of the scenarios I have imagined in my mind have actually come to pass in the real world. No one from my past has approached me and said disapproving things. I do not put myself in social situations where anyone would tell me I am going to hell for aligning my spirituality more with my heart and less with my head. 

I do not really have much contact with those people from my past who would act disapprovingly. I very rarely have communication with my parents and it has been years since I have spoken to some of my siblings, even though we have been at some of the same social events, like my brothers wedding at our old church. I lost that community long ago - and have been better for it. But I still miss it at times, strange as it may sound. I suppose I miss that sense of belonging and acceptance. Even though it was a very toxic community, it was home to me for the majority of my life. All my memories of my childhood and growing up years and early years of adulthood are tinged with it. And I did have a very happy childhood, especially those early years. 

And though no one from my past has said it to my face, I think I know the community and the thought process well enough to know exactly what they think of me - well, if they think of me at all. In these sort of toxic communities, someone who leaves (and I did leave, both physically and spiritually) are thought of as, at best, a lost soul beyond help except divine intervention, and at worst as dead. 

I spend too much time thinking about what others think and I hate that. I hate the constant cycle of going over it in my mind. Some times I feel like I still cling to elements of that belief system and that, in truth, Druidry can fit in with many of those elements quite nicely. After all, there are certainly many practicing Druids who also identify as Christians. But if I examine myself closely I know that 

I do not really want to be a Christian Druid. I do not want to retain the title "Christian" when describing my spiritual path just to make it sound more acceptable to people I used to look to as spiritual leaders. 

I have to say, though, that thinking about this and examining Christian beliefs more closely has really made me more sensitive to just how toxic many Christian beliefs are (certainly not all beliefs - Jesus' teachings of kindness, acceptance, love and humility are wonderful things to emulate). Thinking about this has helped me more fully understand how lucky I am to have been able to even reach the point where I can question my past. 

It's been hard, though. The more I question my past and work through the guilt I experience by even questioning it the more I realize how horrific that spiritual prison was. It affected every aspect of my life and in some very big, very negative ways that will never quite go away. It affected how I thought of myself as a person and led to much self loathing that I still struggle with even though I rationally know I am wrong for having such thoughts. 

But while this past year in the Bardic grade of OBOD has opened extremely painful past wounds and brought up memories I'd rather forget, and has caused me to look at my whole upbringing in a different light - it also has been gentle with me. Many helpful meditations and exercises are given throughout the course that have helped me deal with these things bit by bit and the teachings have always been so reassuring - it is ok to feel these things, to take time to work through them, to let them occur in our minds naturally. It is ok if it is not the right time to examine these things from our past. It's ok to move on for a bit and go back later and see if the time is right then. 

One thing that astounded me was the idea that in ourselves we carry the wisdom of our Older Selves as well as the innocence and curiosity of our Young Selves. I have gone back to this idea again and again. It has been - amazing to me. To not think of myself as just me here, now, in the present moment, but recognizing elements of both the Old and Young within me. It has helped me recognize and appreciate the very good things both versions have and how those good things influence my Present self. (Does this sound absolutely crazy? It's ok if it does! ha.) It has also helped me recognize and deal with the bad things that have happened and the worries I have about the future. 

I feel like the past few months I have been at a kind of stand-still on my spiritual path, but I think it has been necessary. I needed to take time to really address my guilt and work through why I was feeling guilt and what I needed to do to allow myself freedom from my self imposed chains. That is not to say I am no longer struggling with these things. I  probably will always, to some extent, deal with guilt. But I feel like I am no longer really frozen by it - I can anticipate when I'll feel it, recognize it right away, and deal with it in healthy, positive ways. And hopefully, with that action plan in place, I can move on to exploring and learning more on my path. 

After one year, we are asked what struck us most about the first year in OBOD. I think my answer is - it leaves nothing uncovered. It forces you to bring to light everything you had hidden in dark places and hoped to never see again. It wasn't all golden light and nature walks and inspired feelings. It's also been a lot of pain. Floods of it, in my case - which I think definitely led to feelings of deep depression on my part (yes, I did talk with my Dr. about it). But it's been so absolutely good. 

Every year I ruthlessly prune my peach trees and my lilac. I didn't want to, at first - why examine a seemingly beautiful, healthy plant for parts that aren't quite as efficient as they once were and cut them out? But I soon realized the necessity. By examining and dealing with parts of the plant that were actually preventing the plant as a whole from flourishing I was doing the plant a favor and helping it be all it could be. I am no different. I must spiritually prune myself - and I think regular, frequent prunings are necessary! 

Always striving for healthy growth. Always seeking the sun, welcoming the rain, and rejoicing in the cycles of life. 

Celebrating Imbolc

~ Though still it seems like winter

Cold chill is in the air

In the snowy forest

A Lady walks there

The sun follows her leading

And shimmers in her hair

Beneath the Lady walking

a seed stirs in the earth

Within her rounded belly

new life, new hope, new birth

Await! The time is coming

The winter clouds disperse ~

To celebrate Imbolc the girls and I made a yellow cake, to honor the sun, and
they made white roses out of marshmallow fondant for Brigid, the Bride.

*****

~ Oh Lady, gentle Mother,

Healer, sing us awake

Within us the seeds are lying

to blossom in a New Spring

Lady of Fire and Water

Lady of home, of light

Guide us and bring us

into all that we can be ~

Homemade oat-cakes with raisins and honey. Blessed Imbolc!
Let us celebrate the return of Spring!

To Begin One Must End

Since coming to Ohio now nearly five years ago, my mind and heart have slowly undergone a change. I do not know what the change is, or if perhaps it is a change at all. Perhaps, in the end, it is merely a healing. Perhaps I was quite broken before, and in the time before that, broken without knowing I was.

Whatever name you wish to give it, it is certain that my current mindset has found its way forward, while simultaneously finding its way back. While standing now, where I am, I see not only the future years before me as silver wave upon wave, but back. I see myself as I used to be, as a little child looking out the window of the car my parents were driving down winding New England country roads, roads bordered by stone fences and trees dripping with color and pierced by sunshine. I remember so vividly how I was so enraptured by the beauty I saw that I could not speak; my chest physically ached and I felt almost as though I would faint. Sometimes, I was filled with so much joy I felt I was twirling round, faster and faster, in a sun dappled ring.

Those earliest years were a long moment of sun and shade and gentle joy. Then I got older, and knew what worry was, and shame. I learned to accept that truth was not our nature, but must be learned and adhered to, even if it was difficult and against our impulse. So, the world became more grey and through doing what I often did not wish to do, I found a sort of grim satisfaction and thought that made me have worth as a person. Nature became suspect; her beauty was trickery, admiration of her was akin to idolatry. What I had so dearly loved and found joy in became an object of fear.

Sometimes, I think, that when we are taught a certain way of thinking, we absorb it and learn it and somehow along the way we accept it. When this process occurs as a child, and we grow into adults with the same mindset, when do we acknowledge our own responsibility for choosing to continue to accept it? Perhaps we do not know that we have a choice. I do not know if I knew that I did.

All I do know is that I eventually hurt so much that the pain of continuing as I had was more horrifying than going against all that I knew. I knew that I was going to hell for "rebelling", but what I faced if the years went along as they had was worse. So, without knowing it, I made a choice. And in making that choice, my world as I knew it dissolved and the ugliness that lurked beneath the surface of what I had accepted as the "right" way to live, to think, came bursting out.

And in choosing what I thought was my ticket to hell, I found a painful salvation. In breaking from the "safety" I had chosen, however unconsciously, to remain within the boundaries of, I broke from years of heavy chains.

But the process broke my heart. I came to Ohio and those earliest months were a deep struggle to simply get up each day and get dressed and care for my little ones. It is hard when everything you have known has come to an end. Not a graceful, natural ending but an ugly, jagged, painful end. My community, my family, my sense of identity, my sense of purpose was gone. In those early days all I knew was that I had to make sure my children were cared for and with me. I was consumed with grief and lived in a world of memory.

Sometimes the pain was so great that I took my little baby and fled to the woods. Oh, the woods. The mysterious, dark, cool woods that at that time were just leafing into a new cycle of growth and beauty. On the creeks and near the shore of the lake there was thin ice yet, but beneath! A determined moving stream, quiet yet persistent, that wore away at the ice and struggled to break free.

The hills were gentle and comforting. I grew to know and love each swell and curve, each small valley between steep ridges, the scent of damp leaves, decaying into new life-giving earth, the smell of pine needles and cedar, the smell of the soft rot of logs, dotted with pale fungi. I grew to know and love the streams and creeks and the river on its last journey to the great river, which flows onwards beyond sight to another great river, which flows ever farther into the wider world and the ocean, and from that ocean into all oceans. And so, by my little tributary in the woods, I was connected to all the world.

Yet I was sheltered, lovingly, and came to know the earth as Mother and I clung to her as a child does to its Mother, and from her gentle arms I grew stronger and healed, and took steps, which became strides, and so I learned to climb mountains.

Winter Solstice

*****

O Mother

The night has taught me

To walk fearlessly

In the dark

To embrace the 

dreaming time of 

this long twilight

And Mother, my love

I awake within you

and unto you 

Ready to be born

Again and when I am

I will remember what the 

darkness sung to me

in the deep and the shadow

Where I learned my name

*****