Posted in elemental kingdom, Mother Earth, nature, Personal Story

A Sacred Grove

Yesterday, I set off from my home on foot to walk up my mountain and there I found what I’ve been looking for ever since I moved to this locality six months ago.  I found my sacred place in nature where my own special tree was waiting for me.

I finally reached a place I’ve been meaning to go.  It’s an old quarry, a sunken world, now totally reclaimed by nature.  More than that, it has become nature’s temple. 

This sacred grove is isolated, on private land that I have unrestricted access to, it sits far away from paths or human places.  It is left entirely in peace.  It’s a wet, soggy hollow with woods of oak, willow and hazel, some birch on the higher slopes.  On one side hangs a high cliff-face of earth and greenery.  It abounds with bracken and bramble, ferns and moss.  There are sparkly drusy quartz-covered stones, glinting in the undergrowth, bedrock long since quarried and abandoned.  Corvids hold court here, the jackdaws, rooks, crows and majestic ravens are all around, calling and swooping through the woods.  Also in attendance are robins, blackbirds and little jenny wrens.

It was exciting when I finally came upon the narrow entranceway that led down into the wide amphitheatre of lush green mystery.  Three oaks called to me as I passed, on each I saw the face of its accompanying tree spirit.  I knew the moment I approached the third oak that this is the one that’s been waiting for me.  All the trees are bedecked from head to toe in moss, a veritable green world, this is. 

Having formally approached up to the edge of the canopy, I asked permission of the oak to draw near.  I placed my hands on the broad trunk and bent my forehead to the bark, giving my name and asking the tree for his, which was received.  I sent my love to this tree, and through it, to the great oak consciousness.  Then, I sat at the foot with my back to the trunk and opened myself to the energy of nature, but not before opening my mouth and throat to sing of my power from the depth of my lungs.  As shamanka, my song lets the spirits of this sacred place see me, know me and feel my authenticity, integrity and power. I am demonstrating my right to be here. My raw notes rang out loudly, echoing through the grove, unheard by human, but a wind appeared from nowhere and met my song, letting a shower of oak leaves fall with each piercing note, ceasing to stillness only as the last note trailed away. 

Eventually, I moved further down the wide corridor of the grove into further wetness until I reached the opposite end.  Thank goodness I wore my wellies.  From there, I climbed up to find the sky and summit as I tried to find a shorter way home, but it was not to be.  All in all, I was up on the mountain for just short of five glorious hours yesterday.  Now, I sit cosy in my little tree house, knowing my sacred grove and beloved oak tree await me for another day and another adventure.            

Posted in divine magic, nature, Personal Story

Cynefin

Today, it’s my birthday and I’m 60.  This age feels like something of a threshold, perhaps to unleash the Crone within.  We’re already friends, but now I enter the period of embodiment.

I do believe I have never before felt quite so accepting of my age, nay, welcoming and embracing of it, than I do now. 

That’s probably because of all the healing I’ve done and, of course, welcoming my soul into my integrated self so that little things like ageing don’t seem to matter so much anymore.

But also, I have to say that the older I get, the more settled with myself I feel.  The more empowered I have become, the more liberated from the norms or the opinions of others and society in general.  The better my life has become.  So, I suppose it’s fair to say that growing old suits me and I ‘fit’ myself and my life better and better every day.

It feels like these are the good years I’ve been working towards for a long time.  This is my time, this is when I get to be and do what I felt was my soul path all along.  Here I am, embracing the path of the shamanic healer, the psychic, the channeller, the medium, the storyteller, the lore carrier, the artist.  Gosh, just how lucky I am!  And I truly feel immensely grateful for all the gifts I found along the way.

So, I’m certainly not kicking being 60, I’m simply being present with myself, sensing that age is an illusion.  It would be nice to have a special celebration day for every person once a year, but without the need to make it about the number of years, just about the wonder of being alive.    

Only a truly magical place could be right for this magical threshold of a birthday. The most magical place I know is the place you see in the photo above. This is Three Cliffs Bay photographed from Pobbles Beach on the Gower peninsular. Half a mile from the house I grew up in.

This recent night-time shot shows the Milky Way in all its glory and you can also see bioluminescence in the sea, a rare event to witness.  This is where I spent my 14th birthday with friends, the same week I left Wales and my heart was torn apart by the loss of this profoundly magical landscape and the deep, abiding power it contains. 

Now, I’m back living in this area and that’s worth marking by returning to this stunning beach for my 60th birthday celebration, the place that is my forever ‘Cynefin’.

The word ‘Cynefin’ is a Welsh word that is swaddled in so many layers of meaning, difficult to translate.  It’s meaning encompasses a very personal sense of place, belonging and familiarity.  A place where one feels an instinctive belonging and deep connection with the landscape.  A place of power and magic that is where my heart belongs.    

Posted in channelled message, Mother Earth, Personal Story

My Love For The Land That Loved Me Back

I opened my heart and this poured out. It’s about the place where I grew up, Gower Peninsular, South Wales, UK:

“Beloved Mother Earth, I speak of one place upon your Earth, a place of my heart, where my roots first extended, first connected to your energy and found the underworld, found the rich gift of your beauty and love.

Beloved Mother Earth, I give my love and gratitude in unbound quantities to all the energies and consciousness that is the Gower, especially my beloved Pennard.

My heart is full, for there is pure magic in this earth that extends beyond time and expresses in more than one place. It is like a spiral or mobius loop, connecting across infinities and eternities, through many incarnations, for the same energy permeates my soul and the soul of the land.

Beloved Mother Earth, I was nurtured as a babe at your breast in this beautiful place of magic and enchantment, a place of the elements; the depth and richness of earth and safe limbs of that one mighty tree whose loving presence cradled us all through childhood. The salty blessings of baptism in sacred water, sea and stream, rain and dew. The cold slap of the harsh coastal wind and soft, caressing breeze in the meadows. The heat of childhood summers, warmth of stone and rock upon bare skin. The igniting of fire from dry wood, gifted by the trees. Glowing rosy cheeks, dark nights with flames dancing.

All the elements together create divine magic. A tangible awareness of elementals who creatively express their love, their devotion to Mother Earth through movements which are dancing orchestrations, weaving the light in and out and around and through, turning the energy upside down to flip it from one world to the next, the causal world of dark shadows where I feel so at home, in cavern and rocky cave, knowing, as I do, the ancient tales of this land. Tales that were told by our ancestors through lips and tongue alone, long before words were ever written down. With a power of incantation beyond which many are aware. When spoken well, then mystical creatures are unleashed upon the dark night and the deep glade.

Beloved Gower, home of Bendigeidfran, Manawydan, and their mother, Penardun, whose name means ‘sovereign’, great goddess and wife of Llyr, the great god of the sea. The dark and the light. These were the times of the tribes of dark. Still, their presence haunts the woodland dells in Gower’s sacred lands, and ancient ancestral places such as Cat Hole, Goat Hole, Giant’s Grave and Arthur’s Stone. There are the echoes of those distant times before the elementals drew away behind the misty veil, when humans first expressed ego more than soul.

Beloved Mother, we, your children, are coming home. The land is our home, you are our home. And love is our path. And I don’t need to be in the Gower to stay connected to my roots and heart, for they’re everywhere, and yet, it is that place that brought this babe to your breast when I was but a child, I felt you and knew you. My only true mother, the land that loved me back.”

The photo above is of a beach on the Gower that becomes two beaches when the tide comes in; Pobbles Bay and Three Cliffs Bay. This place was my daily playground when I was a child up to the age of fourteen. A short walk from my house over the rugged links, past the water tower and ruined Pennard castle to the stepping stones and onto the beach. This place is where I stand, to this day, arms outstretched and shout, “I belong here!”