The Final Initiation

(Image : “Druid Review”, final exam, SG, 2009)

A year or so after receiving the lovely scroll that marks the end of my formal training as a Druid at OBOD (actually you may find out that it never ends!), the final Initiation.

…I was in the kitchen, talking with Mika and Adam (the other two parts of the Earth Sanctuary Project´s coregroup) over coffee one morning, about how hard it is sometimes to maintain this land, and how sometimes we would love to travel or go someplace different, smaller, easier, – and how we couldn´t ever go back to living in a town flat, when a sudden realisation hit my brain.

I, who thought I couldn´t ever live in a town again, had the sudden vision that all the trees of the world were now rooted in my heart, and the mountains, and the rocks, and the little river, and all the animals, deer, fox, squirrels and eagles, and that I could, without batting an eye, pack my suitcase and go…anywhere!

Tears just welled up in my eyes.

All the forests of the world are now rooted in my green heart.

I have become the Grove.

Living under the trees

(Image :  The Earth Sanctuary, 2007)

…I don´t think that the real Druids – 8000 years back in the tunnel of Time – really understood the importance of trees. Now before you spit in my eye with your Oaken Knowledge, let me tell you this.

Eight thousand years back there were so many trees in Europe that they formed one vast Forest from Iberia to the Danube and beyond. Men were living in this giant Forest like fish live in water. We can´t really get an exact idea how that felt, except to imagine that trees were a primary element in men´s psyche, trees were part of their religion, long long before the Nailed One came to incarnate among us. Druids had what we call ”Knowledge of the Oak Tree”. Druids probably considered trees as gods, or at least as spiritual entities. As some African or Aborigene tribes still do. Nature was alive with spirits, which had to be feared, and revered, and appeased.

But men had zero scientific knowledge. They didn´t know that we actually need trees to survive. (Well, except, of course, if we start to build crystal domes, and who wants that?)

And that, the lack of knowing the survival value of trees for humankind,  is why they couldn´t do a bloody thing when the Romans started to burn their way through the Forest, advocating the necessity of “civilization”. The old Oak Knowledge disappeared. And the Druids disappeared too. Technologically, the Romans were infinitely superior. The Oak Knowledge probably survived in small pockets, maybe in Ireland, maybe in Scotland. In the rest of Europe, the Roman “marines” got their way.

The Druids didn´t know how to resist Roman “civilization”, or couldn´t. They probably couldn´t even understand the Roman mania. And thus, here we are, at the Eleventh Hour, destroying more and more of our life-giving habitat, until we all die from the consequences.

As a species, we truly lost our mind. We quite litterally lost our mind. I mean, we have to reclaim our sanity, this has to become a very conscious act.

Nowadays trees are just part of the sitcom movie in which we live. Forests are places to do your jogging routine (when you find a forest, which might be difficult where you live!!), nowadays the real human story is urban. It´s in the cities that the real story of humankind is unrolling. Forests are just nice places to go on week-ends, to have fried sausages with a bunch of friends. If you can get out of your city, that is. Which Saturday Night fever will need a lot of petrol for a lot of people!

The planet is fast becoming a desert. The planet is becoming a Wasteland. There will be wars for water. Thank you, guys. Nice idea of a future for our kids.

My friend Govinda who is a biologist, and an encyclopedia of plant life, once told me, sort of dreamily…”You know, humans are meant to live under the trees. That is where we really thrive.”

That triggered my thinking, and a huge part of my ecopsychological sensibility. I started to pay attention to what happened to my body when I got out of my little haven of shade and water. And let me tell you, that is easy: five minutes down the road and you get roasted alive in July. Spain is truly becoming the proverbial Wasteland.

Living in the shade provided by the trees is where my heart is these days.

My Avalon is thriving.

Listen to this, friends of my emerald heart : we do need the trees!…

OK, so we can´t know how the Druids actually lived, and I don´t think we really need to know. Our species has changed, science and Time have changed our brains. We are wired in a totally different way. But this,

living under the trees, 

we will still need to understand it, and wherever possible, we will need to apply it. Maybe a new Knowledge of the Oak will be about understanding that we are part of this planet, we are not displaced aliens!…

The sheer necessity of places like the Earth Sanctuary will become more vital as every year passes.

Gnashing my teeth

(Image : The Garden of Love, soul card 97, SG, 2006)

Yeeeewww, sometimes I´m gnashing my teeth at what I write in here!…

But.

I swore to myself to try to be as deeply true to myself as I only could writing this blog, because I don´t see the necessity of “just another blog” with another lengthy blogroll to show how interesting one´s blog is, with no real “meat” for people to put their teeth into. I don´t think that we have time to blunder about exchanging polite references anymore, this is not the place, nor the time.

I´m all for saying meaningful stuff, meaningful in any way meaningful can be for any person at a given time. I write meaning-full stuff for me. And also for the people who know me (by now, a lot!), for the people who are looking for some in-sights about life (different maybe from their own), for people who like to get a smile out of their online experience…

You see, I am now at the (st)age in my life where I don´t care much anymore about what “people” (sheeple?) think of me, I know my rights. So I write about what´s happening to me, in my real life, knowing full well that it´s not important, or maybe it is, because all of us are important, each one is important. (Not meant as a platitude but as a basic truth).

My posts reflect a real life, sometimes shining, sometimes messy, and that´s all right.

Still, when I read some of the things I have written with an intellectual perspective, I cringe! But isn´t that what courage is ? To fear the response to one´s intention and do something anyway? Isn´t this what we all need ? That some things that are never said should have a place sometime and somewhere?

Women, grandmothers, kiddies, Gaia, joy, gratitude, humour, trees, rocks, sunny days, bad days, hell days, washing the dishes, tummy trouble, bone tired, beautiful smiles, hugs, good intentions, bad schemes, masks, deep sleep, politics, loving the world, yearnings for peace, human rights, evolution, beauty, funny e-mails, a life…

Besides, I need to show my art. (No, I don´t sell it.)

*a hearty hug*

Yours faithfully : Nana.

Civilization of the Grandmothers

(Image : Hello, World, here I come!, pic MG, 09)

…These last few days I have been with my three-month old grandson, my daughter is working, couldn´t help it, circumstances, blah-blah.

The sheer beauty of it…

It takes my breath away to think that the same tender beauty can be sent to Afghanistan (or elsewhere, wherever the “civilized” world is reaping storms) twenty years later, after so many – so many – hours of dedication and love, and die there, young, painfully, through a stray bullet, or a bomb. The thought makes me very angry. Civilization has not happened yet. And it will not happen without the grandmothers, let me tell you.

And if you think that all grandmothers are the fragile-looking white-haired silly type – you have it all wrong. We women of the Sixties are powerful grandmothers. Not all of us are dyeing our hair blue and looking like the sweet little nobodies that usually pass for crones. Some of us are fierce witches, some of us have learned our lessons. Haven´t we, sisters??

These days my criteria for survival are quite simple.  Nowadays, in everything, there is only one question : does it lead to a sustainable future (given the global circumstances) or does it not ? The answer is obvious to me, at every turn of the road. And more so holding this wonderful perfect tiny human being in my arms…

Wise Old Witch

(Image : The Goddess Book, SG, 2005)

Hee hee…this made my day!

You know that sentence that comes up on your dashboard, about what people were searching for and so got to your blog? 

Well, one of the searches today was for a “wise old witch”, …and this blog came up!!

Hooray!!!

Kew kew kew

The Return of Avalon

(Image : The Earth Sanctuary, After April Rains, pic MG, 2009)

…Do you remember Avalon? The Isle of Apples, the Isle of the Blessed, the Isle of Glass, and perhaps…Tir na nÓg, the Land of the Ever Young ? How about the Garden of Eden?

You don´t ? You should, you know.

Avalon is part of humanity´s hidden story, a myth that has become an archetype, deep within our psyche, buried under so many destroyed castles, lying dormant beneath layers and layers of other stories…

We dream of a Land, green as an emerald, lush, mossy – when we were innocent and young, and thought that goodness was the word of the day.

We are no longer innocent, of course, but this Land, this Isle of Glass, Avalon, will Return; we call to it, we need it as we need air.

“…I will silently draw a path for you, in the formless waters. I will lay me down as a bridge over sleepy waters. Between the dark and the dark, I will shoot a flaming arrow, to  light your way. There are no more shadows, but for one that stands, like a tall vigil, at the door of silence. The one that weeps tears of fire, a shimmering of things past, of things that are, and of things to be. A formless dream yet. There, the waters glow blue, and Chiron smiles, the healer ever healing himself, of a nameless wound.” (The Secret Diaries, SG, 2005)

We need an Avalon that would Return, but no, not a new Garden of Eden, not the Avalon that is lost in the mists of prehistory, but a statement that we are Earthlings,  Gaians, and belong, by all the fibers of our green heart, to the Body of the Goddess.

The Magic Love Wand

 

What do you mean, my magic Love wand is not *real* ?

Ah yes. I understand. You sell yours for 250 $ in the Net, and mine cost me 1,95 euros in a toyshop (because its two entwined plastic hearts called my attention).

Mmmm…

We all know about the old magic of dollars in the big big *real* world.  *sigh*

PS.- I worked a bit on the wand afterwards, though. Little girls´wands do not come with the symbol of the Great Goddess. Unfortunately.

Hekate of the Crossroads

(Image : Circle of Healing, collage on paper, SG, 2004)

Elderwoman speaks : I am Spirit. Making body is what I do. I am Body. Making Spirit is what I do. I am Primal. I am Sublime. I am strongest when the Two are One.

Elderwoman is the ancient holy one. She is grandmother, witch and hag. She has been ignored, blamed and feared, for she holds powers that others deny. Powers of time and transformation. Powers we may fear, but would do better to understand, especially in our times. The Crone is the Mother of all Mothers. She knows all your bedtime stories, and all your worst nightmares.

She is the One who knows Death. She will introduce you to your shadow. She can free you from your fears. Elderwoman is She Who Has Gone Beyond.

She has lived many years and many lives. Her feet know the paths of the Ancestors. Through her we can touch those who have gone before. She has lived for love, for power, for grace. Now she lives for herself and for her journey. She travels new roads and dares the unknown.

“Queen of the Night, triple-faced Hekate is one of the most ancient images from a pre-Greek stratum of mythology and an original enbodiment of the Great Triple Goddess. She is most often linked with the dark of the moon and presides over magic, ritual, prophetic vision, childbirth, death, the underworld, and the secrets of regeneration. Mistress of the crossroads, this goddess dwells in caves, walks the highways at night, and is the force that moves the moon.

Hekate is the archetypal shaman as she moves between worlds in a fluid way. She bridges the visible and the invisible realities, delving for insight into the magical realms for the ultimate purpose of effecting a healing and regeneration.

Walker Between the Worlds

(Image : “Gift of the Eagle”, soul card 87, SG, 2005)

…”Each year that passes, like the Phoenix, she is reborn.

Because she rides the wind and shape-shifts in between seasons, she can throw off her mantle, her feathered mantle, she can just let it fall to the ground.

She disappears, you cannot see her anymore. She is a walker between the worlds, she can change her life as one changes a dress.

Her freedom had a price.

Her body is scarred from head to foot, pretty scars that swirl around her neck, take a leisurely path between her breasts, and then turn around her hips and cascade down towards her knees. She´s not afraid.
What can she lose, except a new layer of dead leaves ?

Beneath the bones of her chest, a great sun is glowing.”

(The Secret Diaries, SG, 2009)

 

 

 

 

The Guilty Party

It might be old age creeping up on me (which I prefer not to think about, lol).
Or, on the other hand, it´s my glasses playing games with me!

They have a way of disappearing and appearing again, in the most unlikely places, that makes me suspect that my glasses have an adventurous life of their own, far far away from me.
I mean, I´m known around here for my wailing :”Has anybody seen my glasses? They disappeared again!”
Every body laughs.
I´m not joking.

See, I have two pairs of glasses, red ones and clear amber ones.
It´s the clear amber ones that cause mischief.
The red ones are extremely well behaved, they never, ever, stray away from their case, or alternatively, if they are out, I can trust that they will lie about within a very small distance of Yours Truly, and when I need them, they immediately jump to my attention, yes, m’aam, yes, here we are, at your command!
The amber ones are playing tricks on me. This morning I found them (they disappeared late at night) on a pile of ironed clothes, on top of which was a yellow sweater, playing their funny hahaha chameleon act!
By pure chance, I wanted to put the clean pile into the cupboard (yes, that happens!), and hello! here they jump at me!…
Yeah. WHERE HAVE THEY BEEN ALL NIGHT, HUH????

Anyway, now I have them by the side of the computer, and they look, well, contrite.

PS.- Just looked up the word “mischief” in the dictionary and came up with this :

1. conduct or activity that playfully causes petty annoyance.
2. a tendency or disposition to tease, vex, or annoy.
3. a vexatious or annoying action.
4. harm or trouble, esp. as a result of an agent or cause.
5. an injury or evil caused by a person or other agent or cause.
6. a cause or source of harm, evil, or annoyance.
7. the devil.

Mmmm… See what I mean ?
Naaaah, surely not.
It´s old age.
Bwaaaaaaaaaahahahaha *Shakti, wailing, again*