Equinox Adventures

Blessings of Ostara and Spring Equinox To You All!

I love the fact that here in the Northern Hemisphere it's a moveable feast and can be anywhere between 19th to 21st March. To me it feels very flexible and fluid and If I can't do anything in particular to mark it on the actual day, I feel quite at ease doing something a day or so early or late. Day and Night, Light and Dark are equal in hours, harmonious in perfect balance, it all has a wafty quality for me as though the Sabbat itself really is on Pagan Time! The aspect of duality always appeal to me, every year I say I am going to do some shadow work around this time but as usual what I think I am going to do ends up being a completely different experience to what actually happens!

The Start Of My Ostara Altar

This time of year, my altar always builds up slowly, adorned with gifts from the Earth Mother Herself as they are bequeathed to me, and this year was no different. Last Friday I found myself heading off  with my lovely friend  Neene, who like me is always up an Adventure with a capital A. She'd seen a workshop advertised last year - A Goddess Creation Workshop to be exact and wondered if I might be interested, to be fair she had me at Goddess Creat... and the fact that Himself bought it for me as a Yule present was an added bonus. 

We really were that excited!

So after a super early start of 5.45 am, relishing the fact that Lady Moon was still high and watchfully witnessing the Sun Rise - what a beautiful and apt Equinox moment in itself, we arrived in the wilds of Suffolk. The reason we were so excited? Literally our idea of heaven, hidden away in the woods we found this...

Our Venue For The Day - Will's Earth Lodge

I think we were both actually squeaking with excitement at this point! We finally stopped squeaking long enough to go and introduce ourselves to our host for the day Will Lord. More squeaking ensued as we discovered the inside of the Earth Lodge....

Squeak, Squeak, Squeak....

And then ....

More Squeaking then I can type!!

The one on the left is a resin copy of the Venus of Willendorf and the mounted one is Will's own carving. For those of you who are scratching your heads here, The Venus of Willendorf was a Goddess carving called a Venus Figurine made approximately 25,000 -30,000 years ago most likely symbolic of fertility and The Mother Goddess. So, that's why we were there, to create our own...

Now, other than stylising my mashed potato into a volcano complete with gravy lava and killing off a village of peas, I've never really carved anything before. Daunted? A little. After discussing all things Stone Age with Will, his carving Supremo friend Scott and the other intrepid souls that had joined us, fortified by Tea, we discussed carving, flints and materials found in the nearby Grimes Graves, including a Goddess carving found there dated about 5000 years ago, thought to have been left as an offering along with an ahem, phallus shaped carving to either thank the Goddess for her flint that was mined or maybe to encourage more 'to grow'. No one quite knows and for me that's the wonder of it all!

My raw block of Chalk from Grimes Graves

So this is what I started with! Not the creme egg, that was soon demolished and not by my snazzy flint tools that were cut especially for us, dangerous or what, and they let me and Neene loose with them? Already in the sun we were starting to see the difference of the light and the dark in the lines and the shadow, something not lost on us as we approached the Equinox. 

Proper Sharp!

Look how sharp they are!! It didn't really occur to me what I was handling until Will said that we were carving chalk that had been cut away 5000 years ago in the flint mine and piled up. 5000 years!! So the hands that cut this chunk out, lived at the same time roughly as 200 generations ago, the same time as my 198 times Great Grandparents.... they were the last hands to touch these! How freaking awesome is that! I sat there for a little while just holding this damp lump of chalk, letting  the shape form in my head. For some reason the word replete came to mind, so my Goddess slowly emerged from the rock, scrape by scrape, first tentative and then with more conviction and purpose and you know what, I'm pretty darn impressed with myself...

I did manage to utter the immortal words " I just need to smooth my breasts out" which made us giggle a fair bit, but I decided to leave them as she had been crafted by me, which is a whole lesson in itself for me! Perfectly imperfect.

It really was a beautiful spring day and the changing light lit up the carvings we had crafted, really bringing them to life. What a lovely medium to work with. As we drove home, we were once again blessed with the newly Full Moon Rising in The East and The Sun setting to our West - in almost perfect Harmony. It was truly surreal and exquisite.

So here's my Goddess, all replete on her Oak Disk Throne - gifted to me by the fallen Oak Tree that sadly came down on the Village Green in the recent storms and Ivy that grew up my path and needed trimming back. 

In Her Rightful Place...

My Ostara Altar is slowly evolving and being gifted to me by the Earth Mother Herself - light and dark, the shadow side of life and death, all in the turn of the wheel, perfect for Equinox.

Have A Blessed Week x x 

Imbolc Inspiration

Sometimes I have amazing bursts of inspiration of how to celebrate the Sabbats and I come up with some amazing new and funky ways and rituals to do so. Other times, to quote my friend Jenny's turn of phrase, I am as about as spiritual as a stick. This Imbolc, my style and inspiration instead of being that of Sassy Spiritual Chic, I was more like Stressy Spiritual Stick.

Snowdrops at St Margaret's Church

So whilst muttering darkly to myself that none of my snowdrops had come up (probably because I hadn't got round to planting them) and that fact I had to work on Imbolc,  I sat listening to my lovely friend Jacqueline on one of her Facebook lives and heard her talking about Brat Bhrides, or Bratog Brides, also known more simply as Bride's Mantles. Pieces of linen left out on a tree over Imbolc Eve or Imbolc Night for St Bridget / Bride / Brìghde to bless with healing powers for the year as she passed by. Up I jumped all Catherine Tate like, declaring I can do that! These special pieces of linen are sometimes embroidered, and I knew I had the prefect thing - altar cloths that I had found in various charity shops over the years. Gleefully I pinned these two on my Olive Tree, that serves as my sacred tree of whatever weird and wonderful thing I'm doing on my patio..

Brat Bridhes, Bratog Brides or Bride's Mantles

How beautiful they look! That made me feel much better, following an old tradition that is more or less forgotten, nothing novel and wild this year, that worked for me. The idea is that they are filled with healing energy and you can use them throughout the year as and when you need them, just make sure you peg them down when it's windy! With this mind set firmly in place I decided to have a goat another traditional Imbolc custom which could be done on limited means and effort, making Bridie's crosses out of leaves from the garden.

Much happier now my mind turned to sacred wells, the only spring and well I  knew of near me was not far away but is in a sad state of repair and covered in pigeon poop, and I was really feeling that. Randomly I had a google, a really lazy Goddess Girl's google literally - 'sacred wells near me ' and lo and behold St Margaret's Well appeared! Ok so she wasn't Brigid - (I mean we're not in Ireland Claire for goodness sake!) But  it was just 8 miles away. The next day WAS my day off so this was too good an opportunity to miss!

The Plaque at St Margaret's Well

Luckily it was easy to find and I parked my car up, and got out to have a look at the well based at the bottom of a little hill with the beautiful Norman Church of St Margaret's at the top. Now, I quite like a Church, from everything I've read and researched, they were usually built at a cross roads or meeting place - on a sacred site that predates them by a long way. So after having a few quiet moments at the well and carefully placing my homemade Bridie's cross I had made on it, I walked up the hill, passing some gorgeous snowdrops on the way.

My Bridie's Cross at St Margret's Well

At the top, much to my dismay but sadly not unexpectedly, I found the old church locked, but round the side of the Church there was a man taking a break from mowing the church yard talking to another man, so I asked if there was any chance of having a look inside. Bless his heart, he was the Church Deacon and went back down the little hill to get the key to show me round, whilst I stood chatting to the other man who had come to visit his wife's grave, admiring the  ancient Yew there, what a beauty and a certificate verifying it's age as over 1000 years old hangs in the Church Porch! Looks like I was right about it always being a special place!

The 1000 Year Old Yew! 

We heard a car alarm go off and I could see my indicators flashing so I merrily bleeped it with my fob and carried on chatting. When the Deacon came back chuckling he said, "you might have to move that car o' yours, it's blocking the road!" Bewildered I went to investigate, only to find that I must have forgotten to put my handbrake on in my excitement and it had rolled down and was proudly sitting in the middle of the road, completely blocking it both ways, with several cars curiously at a standstill with drivers and passengers wandering about trying to find the owner! Hahaha. Luckily the only thing it had touched was the kerb on the other side of the road which had prevented it rolling through a thin wooden fence and into someone's front wall. Apologising and blushing profusely, I moved my car and made sure the hand brake was on good and proper this time.

What Glorious Keys!!

Re-joining my new friends we all laughed about it, before they opened the church with the most amazing set of keys and then proceeded to give me a lovely little tour round the church, perhaps they simply thought I wasn't safe on my own! They may well be right. They showed me all the hidden gems, the squint holes for the lepers and the beggars to peer through, the 500 year old stained glass in one of the windows, the mechanism of the pipe organ as well as pointing out graves of importance  - such as a famous bell maker and showing me just the right angle to peer into the crypt to see the wooden coffins sealed off below!

What a beautiful unexpected little Imbolc afternoon out, and when I got home, I decided to look up St Margaret, she's the patron saint of expectant mothers, perfect for Imbolc wouldn't you say? 

Have A Blessed Week  x x 

Dreaming Of A Better Year..

Well that was a long break....

To be fair it was a blooming long and difficult year last year! I'm sure it was for many people.

Last time I wrote my blog I was recovering from my operation in February, so just to bring you all up to date, they found some nasty cancer cells (boo, hiss!) so I needed 3 months of chemotherapy in the early summer - but still managed to make Summer Solstice camp of course (and boy was I looked after by my beloved Pagan Family!) and of course our Maidstone Pagans Camp as well as all the online stuff...

Solstice Camp

As you know, I believe in many different types of healing and bounced out of both previous operations earlier last year like nothing had happened and I put it down to all the love, support, healing and prayers being sent to me. So when in November, I had my third and (hopefully last) operation I was pretty much expecting the same. However this time, despite all the prayers, healing and reiki that were coming my way, this one was a lot harder on me. Instead of getting up and walking about I could barely get out of bed let alone stand I found it odd that I was so poorly, thinking how weird it was that they hadn't worked this time.   

Oh, she of little faith!

I had some really rough days in there, I actually had post op pneumonia and acute kidney injury following the stent removal from them, which had been put in place to protect them during my 5 hour op, and had a temporary mini kidney failure and was pretty much one step away from sepsis. Somehow, I managed to fight it all off!

Rocking The Nebuliser..

I literally spent 4 days absolutely off my head on drugs; hearing voices,  whisperings, and generally hallucinating, seeing faces and seeing words write on walls and talking to someone called Donna - I don't even know anyone called Donna! So I was  blaming the morphine for that, I finally came home after a week, feeling a bit, well let down if I am honest, why all that lovely healing hadn't all 'worked', I mean I was home but it had been really rough. Had I done something wrong?

So 6 o'clock in the morning  following my first night home I awoke from my beautiful dream...

In it, I was at huge train station and there were loads of bedraggled looking grey passengers, dragging luggage and looking ill, but there were also a whole range of calm beautiful smiling passengers all in colour and beautifully dressed just watching, just waiting.  

Photo Courtesy of London Bodyguards

I was one of the grey ones, as I roamed round not knowing what was going on am, I am aware that someone is looking at me. I looked up and saw it was my lovely friend Sharon, who we sadly lost in September, in full glorious technicolour with her beautiful cheeky smile and I heard her say Hel-Lo! - in her voice, in her own special way. 

Me, Mark and Our Lovely Sharon In Happier Times...

She was sitting at a beautiful café in an old Italian style stone street, 2 hot chocolates on the table and she patted the chair next to her for me to sit next to her. I was crying and hugging her and she told me it was her turn to sit me for a bit now it was calmer. She told me that I'd had 'them' all worried  and 'they' had all been whirling around me all the time I was ill and I'd given her a right fright. She was as beautiful, well, happy and as amazingly Sharon like as I've ever seen her. 

Original Poster Unknown - Happy To Credit!

We chatted for a while and then she said it was time to go and although I didn't want to leave her, I waved her off as she said she other people to visit. Her parting words to me were: "Love You So Many!" - the ones which she always signed her texts off with. That still smarts writing that in the past tense...

As you can imagine I awoke in tears but feeling completely blissful and safe in the knowledge that of course all the prayers and healing had been heard by my Goddess, I was being healed and loved, they'd just been doing their purpose at a much deeper level than my brain had been able to comprehend. Those whispered and floating words I'd seen - were they the prayers, spells and healing weaving their way around me?  It reminded me of the poem Footprints in the Sand by Carolyn Joyce Carty which I decided to amend as below:

One dark night I had a dream. I dreamed that

I was walking along the beach with my Goddess

Across the sky flashed scenes from my life.

In every scene I noticed two sets of

Footprints in the sand: one belonging

To Me, and the other to the Goddess 

As She walked beside me.

When the last scenes of my life flashed before me,

I looked back at the footprints in the sand.

And I noticed that many times along the path of

My life there were only one set of footprints.

I noticed that it happened at the very

Lowest and saddest and most difficult times of my life.

This really surprised and bothered me my heart,

And I asked Goddess about it:

"Goddess, I thought that I was your beloved daughter

And when I followed your path,

That you would walk beside me,

That you would walk with me all the way.

But I have noticed that during the most

Troublesome times in my life,

There is only one set of footprints.

I don't understand why when

I needed you most you would leave me to fend for myself "

And the Goddess replied:

"My precious Daughter of Earth,

My precious Child

I heard every prayer and cry for help

I love you and never let you walk alone. 

During your dark days, your pain, your fear

And your hopelessness

When you see only one set of footprints,

It was then that as your Mother,

I carried you safely in my arms."

So that was me told! Oh and I looked up Saint Donna, trying to work out who I was talking to, even the nurses had commented on it - I thought perhaps their was a Saint Donna, Patron Saint of wayward and bemused Goddess girls, or something similar. I suppose in a fashion there is, Donna of course is from the Italian for Lady, Our Lady, now is that Madonna, Our Mother - Mary Mother of Jesus or the Goddess? Or are they one and the same? 

Have A Blessed Week x x x

A Healing Journey

So this time I was finally going to get round to talking about Dolls Houses as planned - can you tell I'm a bit obsessed? However it appears that healing is the topic of conversation for today. As most of you that are in any way connected to me on Facebook or Instagram will be aware, I've been in hospital. I wasn't going to talk about it, I get fed up with it, so I guess everyone else does too, and let's face it, other people's illnesses aren't exactly riveting stuff! 

However, when I was lying there wide awake in the wee small hours this morning, Trucker and a cat snoring gently, gratefully snug and comfy back in my own bed, I reminded myself that when I started writing my blog I promised myself and Goddess to always speak my truth, even about my darker moments and I knew this would be about my experiences and healing journey instead. 

To cut a long story, short just before Christmas I was taken ill and they found a small tumour obstructing my colon, damn it! As it was preventing my colon from working properly, ie at all, I needed to have an emergency operation to have a stoma or colostomy bag fitted to by-pass it, promptly named Nellie by my lovely friend Neene as it goes Trump, Trump, Trump! As a child I was a bit obsessed with spontaneous human combustion and used to pray that wouldn't happen to me, who knew my colon would take it as a personal challenge to improve on that concept and threaten to blow me up from the inside.... You have to laugh, if you don't you cry and damn that lines your face! 

Anyway this week, I was back in hospital - planned this time, having the tumour removed along with a lymph node which has now been sent off for a biopsy to make sure that it isn't the dreaded big C . Tests from before Christmas didn't indicate cancer, so we are half way there! Either way, the problem has been removed and I now have a tender belly the colour (and shape) of an over ripe Comice pear that looks as though Freddy Kruger has been let loose and used it as a pin cushion. I'm joking, the Surgeon and Nursing team were absolutely amazing, my care was second to none and they did an amazing job and my tiny little scars will all heal away to next to nothing before long. I hadn't wanted to write a drama filled blog about poor me and this isn't that, but it does just explain my self care posts over the last week and if you look back at my blogs you can see when I'm hermiting, when I've been working through grief or whenever I've been full of teenage truculent maiden mardiness but anyway I am well and actually as per usual the goddess had a plan for me, this time to talk about my healing journey and it was cathartic and healing for me mentally just  to have written that down and have you all witness my experience! So thank you.

Kitty Crown Chakra Cleansing!

So when I came to at 1.30am this morning,  and lay wide awake for hours, the sandcastles of my dreams being slowly eroded by the tides of consciousness - lots of wonderful and beautifully articulate ways of describing what's been happening to me were going through my head, I even emailed them to myself but they don't make so much sense now perhaps it was the morphine!  I've had some fantastic dreams; my son wearing a tree outfit, myself and my best friend Lu dancing about being green waves amongst blue ones, as well as rhinos running through mushrooms and being married to the wrong husband - don't even go there ! Lola stretched herself awake and kept me company, gently padding my hair, massaging me better until I went back to sleep several hours later....

After listening to Anita last week I took notice of what my body was doing at 1:30 this morning, gurgling, making a racket and very wide awake and it was my small intestine doing it's thing, letting me know it was healing and getting back to work - did you know that when you have a general anaesthetic your digestive system stops? Stands to reason I guess.  

Hedgie's Healing Spell

I'm blessed to be surrounded by lots of people who believe in healing and sending healing and I can honestly say that lying in my hospital bed, I felt so much of it coming my way, literally felt it, felt the fizzing power of Hedgie's healing spell energy. Those of you who saw my Talking with My Goddess with lovely Kayleigh in December might remember me talking about a blue light and energy that was around me last time I was in, which she said she thought was probably the Archangel Raphael? I had exactly the same thing happened to me again this time - longer and more prolonged. A dreamy blue aura all around me that came and went. I was well aware of patches of heat rolling over me, there are times when the  very air around me seemed to shimmer and time would momentarily stand still too! Now it could have been the morphine, fabulous stuff, but I genuinely think it was more than that. I know I was sent Reiki and healing by many wonderful friends, prayers were whispered on my behalf, spells were created and woven. I felt so held in love. Even the doctors, the surgeon and the nurses were impressed with how quickly I was up and walking around, looking like I hadn't had an operation without copious amounts of pain killers. One of the lovely, lovely nurses even commented on the vibe in my room, she said it was full of positivity and joy. Naturally! I was being held by so many amazing souls.

Love and Magic from my favourite 11 year old and her Nan...

Of course it wasn't just this meta-physical, ethereal healing that has supported and nourished me, so many texts, messages, cards, letters, phone and zoom calls came my way too, just knowing people are thinking of you is an amazing energy to heal in, especially when Covid means no visitors at all.  

There was also the absolute bliss of being transported to my parents house for Claire-sitting whilst the Trucker was at work, my childhood home where four generations of my family have shared life, love, laughter and supported each other through everything that has come our way since 1967, being sent to my childhood bedroom for an afternoon nap and tucked in by my 70 something Mum again! A get well message from a childhood friend that included a video of me at her birthday party in 1977 that she had transferred to video from Cine 8 for her Dad, culminating in us both agreeing that our homemade 70's party dresses suggested our Mums did way more drugs than they ever let on... 

Cheers Nessa!! Can you spot me? 

Have a look at 22 - 25 seconds as I elegantly lope round the chairs .... 

This treat was followed by side and almost stitch splitting laughter with my Mum being Mrs Malaprop asking me if I wanted a slice of Fright Coke with my cuppa, fruit cake Mother, fruit cake! Before finally coming home to Unicorn letters and a hand made card from my best friend's granddaughter Brooke - my unofficial great niece, who thought I was Great Aunty because I was great as in amazing bless her heart, who's birthday wish was for me to be better - what magical wonder is that?! Cat cuddles and a crazy hour long  faced paced WhatsApp conversation with my friends from school this morning that would make your hair curl. Literally! So much healing on so very many levels, in so many shapes and forms.

centreofexcellence.com

Laughter, probably the best medicine there is. So here's my journey of healing so far, there's some way to go, another operation will be needed in a couple of months time to reconnect the pipe work so to speak but I'm going to make the most of the time off, put my feet up and heal. I'd say rest and do nothing but that's a step too far, instead that I thought I'd do a short course connected to work, which I can keep my brain occupied with during my month's necessary convalescence (which will be policed by Trucker and my parents!) The significance of what I had signed up for didn't occur to me until I started writing this... an Ancestral Healing Course, wouldn't be anything else would it? 

Thank You for sharing My Journey with me..

Have A Blessed Week x x 

As Imbolc Lingers

 

Belated Blessings of Imbolc to You All!

I hope all of you who celebrate had a beautiful day, with rituals or ceremonies  that inspired you, it already seems a long time ago now! I wasn't actually going to write about Imbolc; Dolls Houses and Brighid were my planned musings for this month but after I ventured out today I changed my mind. I think Goddess may have had a hand in it, to be more specific The Cailleach. And there is no 'may' about it.

As most of you know, I'm a firm believer in the folklore about the Cailleach collecting her winter logs - a dry Imbolc predicting more days of winter ahead, and along with Punxsutawney Phil The Ground Hog at good Old Gobblers Knob, in Pennsylvania (who saw his shadow and legged it this year for the record) the Cailleach was definitely abroad!

My February the first wasn't necessarily bright but it was definitely dry and then of course, less than a week later, like most of the UK, we've had more than a sprinkling of snow. So today I went out for lovely walk - some of you may have seen my little video I posted earlier on my WWMG Facebook page - which you can see here - Woodpecker Woods Live - I took you on a little jaunt through the woods with me, but at the time  I concluded that the woodpeckers had migrated, but guess what I heard as I walked back?  Yep Woodpeckers! I looked it up and some don't migrate, they sit winter out in their nests!

So I've included this little clip too! Dodgy cinematography I know, but it was the sound I wanted to capture!

I had a blissful, if freezing wander, I stood in the frozen wasteland of the old corn field, arms outstretched to ground myself and felt the reluctance of the Cailleach to give up her realm, felt her icy fingers in the wind pull at my hair and remind me that the maiden does not hold full sway yet. So I bade her come and join me. She didn't disappoint. As I walked back through the woods, The frozen snow on one of the trees and stopped in my tracks. For a minute it looked like an old woman, an icy Crone huddled against the tree as she gathered Her fire wood.... (and of course the old face in the tree?)

My Own Personal Cailleach!

Or perhaps I'd just been out there too long! Either way it made me smile and wonder - not for the first time, what message She had for me. My own personal winter is going on a little longer than normal, I'd love to be gadding about like a spring lamb - well when we can of course, but this year, winter is going on for a little longer for me, as I'm having a operation next week, much to my initial irritation - "like I have time for this!" lol, it's no big deal but it's going to slow me down... which I suspect is the plan! It was after I saw Her, that I heard the woodpecker and when I looked their meaning up, once I had defrosted, their spiritual meaning and symbolism? Wisdom, strength, opportunity, resilience and determination - don't mind if I do, please and thank you! 

Grinning to myself at another lesson about to be learnt, I headed for home, and immediately had a more gentle reminder than Brighid hasn't completely abandoned us.

New life peeking through the snow..... She's biding her time.

Brighid's Reminder...

So that's me for now, I shall await the return of Brighid and ponder more on my Dolls House thoughts, allowing them to grow and take a deeper form, until they are ready to spring forth and entertain you all! Until then...

 Have a Blessed Week x x 

Wind Wailing - The Cailleach's Voice

Hello Everyone! It's been a while I know! 2020 just got crazy didn't it? I have been so busy with so many things, work and so many other projects. So I thought I'd ease myself back in to the swing of blogging again and share this little piece of writing with you that I wrote for my Sunday morning live today on my Facebook page www.facebook.com/walkingwithmygoddess which I also upload to a YouTube channel of the same name if you would like to hear me read it but don't do Facebook. Perfect for such a cold and frosty morning here!

So this week I have been looking at The Cailleach and wrote this. I titled it The Wind Wailer as the sound of the wind as it rushes past our house makes me think of Icy Winter Goddesses and as it squeezes through the vents it calls in an unearthly wail that exactly fits my imaginings of the voice of the Cailleach!

I hope you enjoy it x x 

The Wind Wailer

I am Cailleach. Cailleach Bhéarra, Cailleach Bear. Bone Woman, Stone Woman. Goddess of Winter, the Wild Wolf Woman.  They call me Hag, Crone, Witch, Ogre, Giantess. Yes, I am She of many names. I laugh at these names now as I whistle and wail my path across the land doing my work, wind wailing through the darkness of winter. They say I am old, and I am ancient… It is true, for I am as old as time itself.

Many millennia ago, I helped create this land and my mysteries have been spun into stories and tales over these lands since those who first dwelled here learnt to talk. My stories have been lost in the mists of time in all but a few places now. And in those myths and poems that remain, I am oft reviled and hated and feared.

But once, I who am now as old the world, was young and fresh faced, beautiful and shining. I was a Maiden in 7 lifetimes. In each of those lifetimes I loved, and I was loved.

Courtesy of : aweewalk.com

My dwellings may be long emptied and discarded, but I am loved and remembered. In one incarnation millions of moons since, we travelled to Taigh na Bodach high up in the forsaken glens of The Land of the Scots.  Ancient men and women of the glen loved me then too, one winters night I sought shelter with my man and my child, they took us in with hearts as warm as the fire in their hearths.

So, I fashioned stones as a shelter shrine and moulded stones in our likeness, at Beltane the Glens men and women release us from this crude house for a joyful summer amongst the fragrant purple heather and at Samhain they carefully restore us back into the shelter to keep us from the winds that wail and whistle down the mountains and the bitter freezing ice of the dark winter months.  In gratitude, I watch over their land and the valleys are fertile and prosperous, the winds and ice blow over them, but the winds wail less fiercely there.

Before that lifetime even, I created the lands or Alba, Eire and Manx – have you not read of this?  I was all seeing and all-knowing Queen of my realm then, striding this way and that way, jumping over the waters that part the lands, for I made great Ben Nevis with my vast fearsome hammer as a seat to rest on in my labours, but the land slept and slept on beneath my icy cloak – and as I watched from my lonely eyrie and I saw that all of life beneath me was still and frozen then I was sad and forlorn.  

Yes - me the harsh, cruel hag of winter, yes I was sad ….

Great tears sprang from my eyes, and as I wept and wailed, great floods fell across the land and the rivers and springs were brought into being where they landed. In my joy I jumped from my great seat and all the rocks fell from my apron and made the hills and mountains, and in delight and wonder of this new landscape I had made, I cleaved the valleys and gorges with my hammer, for I am creator too.

And bountiful mother. Did you know that? Some knew me as Mother Earth, As She who Creates, as Gaia and the Great Mother. From me sprang the spirits and the Sidhe – the fairy folk of the Emerald Land of Eire. I am Mother Goddess to all the goddesses My children, you do know that you descended from me and the Men I have loved?

Oh the men I have loved in all lands… The Old Man of Bodach, Manannan Mac Lir and others whose names even I forget now.  Ahhhh Manannan, how I waited in vain for you to return to me my love. I have known sorrow too, deep, deep sorrow that etched so deeply in my face that my wailing and the wind carved into the rocks themselves at Collough Bay taking the shape of grieving visage for all eternity.  I am not indifferent to suffering as some would have you believe of me.  

Gentler tongues name me Queen of Winter, as Carlin- the Queen of Witches and in the remote coasts of Alba amongst the hardy fisher folk, I am ‘Gentle Annie’, she who brings the winter storms and gales and those who dwell in my sacred glens and forests know me with fondness as Lady of the Beasts. The animals of these blessed realms love me too – the deer and reindeer are protected by me from the greed of mankind and many is the storm I have whipped up in fury, wild and whirling snowstorms descending on greedy hunters who sought to take more than was their need, but the folk seeking what is fair have nothing to fear. I am ancient goddess of this land, I command the wolves too and have led hungry packs to their quarry, their predatory howls echoing on the wind as I wail beside them.

As the months of winter draw close, just afore Samhain, my ancient servants of time immemorial stir and whisper their spells over the great whirlpool of Corryvreckan - The cauldron of the plaid…. 8 wild and powerful Goddesses - daughters and others of my kind, my Cailleachan  I called them, awaken from their slumber deep below the seat of Ben Nevis and toil a while with me as we wash and prepare my great white plaid of winter in its watery depth and if you listen in the carried shrieks of the wind you will hear our spells and our voices...

As midwinter draws closer, I don my sparkling clean plaid and wander through the realms I command. The once green fields and forests are slowly dying back into their yearly decline of death, waiting for the rebirth of the coming year. As my great plaid cloak of white touches their shrivelled leaves and branches, it frosts and freezes them into icy stillness and wintry splendour. Amongst this icy chill and the endings there is hope and there is beauty.

Into the infant new year, I continue to walk the earth, my cloak of winter still commanding frost and ice wherever it touches the land. But as the year grows steadily stronger, slowly, teasingly, I release my icy grip a little and allow the first signs of spring to trail from my great footsteps. I have a magic of my own, but few can see it now, every year without fail I complete my cycle and not unlike the Merlin I grow younger, until at Imbolc Eve I undertake my final labour as Cailleach and I visit the hidden well of youth, keeping vigil until sunrise when I drink the waters of revival and then the Goddess of Spring is born again.

So, as you jolt awake, with the wind battering your home, hissing and wailing down your chimney, whistling through the nooks and crannies of your rooves, your windows or your doors, hear me and know that I am just going about my work settling the land to sleep for long dark nights and all is as it should be.

What looks like destruction, is the cycle of rebirth and renewal. As my freezing fingers pluck away at the foliage and the land transforms under my fearsome touch to a cruel and frozen realm, just pull up the covers and rest deeply knowing that this always comes before fresh growth, renewal, before the green shoots and the brave budding petals of Imbolc.

Soon, I will be but a distant memory, as you embrace Spring, I shall be consigned to the harshness of winter past but allow yourself a quiet minute to remember that each year I come to my death and to my rebirth.

Each year, I change my name, I am reborn. I am Bride, Breed, Brigit, Brighid, Bridie, St Brigit. I am She of many names and I am She of many mysteries.

Have a Blessed Week x x x

Learning To Remember

July 2020

I've seen so many blogs, articles and memes about Covid 19 - how to cope with it, how it's changed people's lives, how to prosper. Lists of spells and rituals to help you through it, toxic memes that declare if you haven't learned a new skill that you've wasted time, articles announcing that people have built a business, written a best-seller, taught yourself how to play the cello, become an overnight genius and flown to the moon. I vowed I wouldn't add my blog to the list of these.

What I want to know is where are the slightly plumper than they were before, pajama clad, slightly ashamed of the wine bottle chink of their recycling bin people? Or is it just me? I know it isn't, I've spoken to so many of my friends (socially distanced of course) to know that I'm not alone in my 'failure' to have have lost 14 stone, created a 6 figure turnover business in less than a week or written a series of best selling novels that will beat JK Rowling hands down. 

Hats off to all these ambitious and high flying people, I mean that, I really do. I have no wish to attempt to pull them down or shame them for their fabulous achievements and successes. It's the expectations and the attempted shaming of people who are just about managing to navigate a semi normal course through choppy waters and trying not to drown in uncharted ocean of a pandemic - that's what I have an issue with. For some of us, most of us, the changes and achievements in our lives will be smaller and quieter, but that does not make them less significant, far from it. These small quiet undeclared victories or lessons will have just a great an impact for the individual concerned, so I caved and with goggles of (hopefully) hindsight as we emerge blinking into the post lockdown era, I've written my own Covid 19 success blog.

What I discovered was not just what I'd learned, but an awful lot of what I had remembered about myself....

I remembered what it feels like to not have to worry about make up.

I remembered what it felt like as a child to be 'ready' with just clean clothes, brushed hair and teeth.

I learnt that people still talk to you at the supermarket or outside if you are 'au naturel'. They still smile, chat, laugh and joke with you.

I learnt that they don't point and laugh at the grey hairs.

I remembered how much I love the feel of the grass beneath my feet.

I remembered how the smell of wet earth is absolutely divine.

I remembered the joy of watching plants and vegetables grow day by day like beloved pets.

I remembered my connection to the land, literally and spiritually.

I learnt that I love gardening barefoot getting grubby and watering my feet as much as the plants.

I remembered how much I love my husband. I mean I always knew, but

I remembered why we promised our love to each other forever.

I remembered what a good team we are.

I learnt that he really does always have my back, and vice versa.

I leant that we didn't want to kill each other during lock down and that we really are forever.

I remembered my beloved Nanna telling my about the rationing and queues during and after the war and felt grateful that I had a short ten or fifteen minute queue for the supermarket and that wine and cheese has not yet been in short supply.

I remembered slow rainy days of childhood where I had sat nose pressed against the windows, wishing the rain away with every essence of my young being.

I remembered the quiet hum of creativity, lost in concentration and the pleasure it brought to create - just because.

I remembered the sheer joy and anticipation of curling up with a book, guilt free.

I learnt was it was to be patient.

I remembered the joy of cuddling a cat and feeling their whiskers tickle your hands and face.

I remembered how to cloud bust on blissful sunny afternoons.

I remembered what a wonder an unfolding flower was, sitting with a cuppa watching a poppy unfurl before my very eyes.

I remembered how magical the dappled sunlight through a leaf canopy is.

I learnt mindfulness.

I remembered what is what to take my time to do things, no quick 'pop' to the shops.

I remembered the taste of a long morning cuppa and a gentle slow start to the day, and the joyous taste of a second one sitting in the garden in my PJ's.

I remembered that I could cook, not banana bread but having and taking the time to select ingredients and create meals from scratch.

I remembered the glorious forage fest on my door step when I made and drank the most delicious Elderflower cordial.

I learnt to relax.

I remembered how much I love my family and what they mean to me.

I remembered what it is to have my arms ache for a hug with my children and my parents.

I remembered the mischief of a caught eye of a friend and the laughter that follows.

I remembered what it is to miss people.

I learnt to appreciate everyone I love. More. So Much More

I remembered  to take the time daily to really spend time with the Goddess.

I remembered how to see Her in all the beauty around me, in the fields, the woods and in my home

I remembered how to hear Her voice in the wind, in the rain and in the silence.

I remembered the joy of stillness and meditation.

I learnt to walk my path with my Goddess all over again.

Have a Blessed Week x x