In the Name of Brighde

Today we honour Dagda’s daughter,
She thrice blessed by fire and water.
As we crave the light and stir the seeds;
We shape our world in the name of Brighde.

The poet’s art, a fire in the head,
Words to inspire, craft prayers unsaid.
Hark to the sound of the bard, and heed;
We shape our world in the name of Brighde.

The healers touch, a fire in the hearth.
The midwife’s blush at every new birth.
Til death’s cold touch, and the spirit freed;
We shape our world in the name of Brighde.

The blacksmith’s craft, the fire of the forge.
The flame of creation to temper the sword,
Empowers the warrior in word and deed;
We shape our world in the name of Brighde.

Yes, today we honour Dagda’s daughter,
She thrice blessed by fire and water.
Her triple flame brings all that we need,
To shape our world in the name of Brighde.

So poets, healers, blacksmiths all,
Feel the impulse, heed the call,
Strong as oak, supple as reed,
Shape your world in the name of Brighde.

The White Spring – Imbolc 2012 part III – The celebration

Tuesday was spent at The White Spring; setting the space, moving rocks, cleaning candlesticks and removing wax. G, the Founder of the Temple would be having the evening for a private booking so I wanted to place to be clear and ready well in advance before I went home to prepare myself to hold the ceremony.

At home, I went over my words, and devised a way to keep time in my head so I did not have to look at a watch. There would be a period of darkness and I had no other way to keep time. I sang a song over three times. I knew that would be approximately nine minutes altogether.

One of our helpers had their car break down on the evening prior to Imbolc and had to stay at our house so he got to witness the crazy, getting the family up and children ready for the day, morning madness that ensues. After the children left for school we quickly organised our things and left for the White Spring.

When we arrived I found that the seasonal altar had been changed a little, the altar cloth had been pushed back, crushing the swan feathers I had left there. I cleared the altar immediately and reset it, this time without the cloth. Some new snowdrops had turned up, so I assumed that G had left them there and either didn’t like the altar cloth, or did not notice that I had already begun to set the altar. I struggle for a moment with slight annoyance, then let it go. Nevertheless, the altar was reset along with more beautiful fresh snowdrops.

We checked that there were no light sources coming in to the building. All the skylights had been covered, and even the keyhole and cracks under the doors. I set the helpers to lighting candles and went outside to greet some of the early visitors. There were not as many people as in previous years. Though the first person to arrive had come all the way from Australia!

I went inside again to light some incense and found myself visiting each shrine with a song. I went last to the central chamber at the back of The White Spring, turned to face the wall and sang to the spirit of the Spring. When I turned around again, I found that the building had filled up and there was quite a crowd watching me. I suddenly felt a little shy, but managed to not show it whilst I went outside for a moment. I could sense that the visitors were waiting for things to start, so we started right on time.

I was so happy to have Merlin with us to lead the chanting and singing. I knew I could count on him to come in at the right time and get everyone singing along. After welcoming everyone, I talked a little about the White Spring, and said a few words about Imbolc. Then we went into the darkness and silence.

What potency awaits in the quiet dark of the cave. This was my first time leading this ceremony, and although I was aware of the feeling of complete darkness inside the spring, I had not been prepared for the feelings whilst holding that space and being responsible for it.

Blackness, and just the sound of the water rushing through the building, my head was swimming as I sang the songs in my head that lasted 3 minutes each – just to help me keep time. It was silent, though I was sure my heart would beat right out of my chest. My mind wandered. The air seems to stir with pregnant possibility. You know that if you reach out you will touch the person stood next to you, yet you feel totally alone in the darkness. There were around 100 people all stood in the blackness for just long enough. And then I gave the signal by tapping on the door gently. Then three loud knocks from outside.

Opening the door, the light streams in as Young Bridie walks through carrying her lantern. The door closes and the single flame is carried to the centre of the building. ‘The light shines in the darkness .. and the darkness shall not overcome it!’ The light is passed from person to person and all of the candles are lit. Then we sing.

Bridie, Brigida, Sula, Sheena, Anun, Anna, Danu, Dana

This year marked the 7 year anniversary of the lighting of the Brigid flame here in Glastonbury. One of the people who lit the flame in 2005 told us all of its significance. Then we all gathered outside to share inspiration and song.

I introduced G as the founder of the Temple and she talked about Brigid and her inspiration. The red and white waters were mixed and those gathered were splashed with the waters with purifying intent before offering to the land with our wish that the waters flow together forever.

It was cold. The winter had been so mild up until this week, and now it had just turned icy cold. Young Bridie was wrapped up warm and we drummed and danced to keep our feet warm. Max told his seasonal story, a journey if you like, taking us to the otherworld. I offered a guided meditation, to create powerful intent and send it out into the universe along with Brigid’s guiding light.

The Monk’s gate into Chalice Well was opened for us to go into the garden. Yound Bridie led us up to the wellhead of Chalice Well and we left the flame there before going to the fire that had been lit on the lower lawn. R and her mum got a hot chocolate, and after chatting to a few folk, Max and I went back to the Spring. We had a keeper ready to open for the day, so after the procession to Brides Mound had left, we went to have some lunch.

At sunset I went to Bride’s Mound myself, to honour the flame that I keep at the temple and in my home. K, another keeper of the flame had arranged to have a fire puja; a prayer and offering of ourselves in support of that prayer. It was a beautiful gathering. Someone had created a beautiful icon of Brigid which stood in the footprint of the chapel that had been built there so many years ago. We lit candles from the Brigid flame, all around the chapel and honoured the place where the Mary Magdalene altar had been. Then we surrounded the fire to share songs.

At the end I had so many well wishers thanking me for the ceremony at The White Spring and telling me how much it meant to them to come to Glastonbury and feel so welcome at the sacred ceremonies here. I took their praise gracefully and gave it back to the earth.

Later, I left the mound in the darkness filled with the glow of the flame, the warmth of the community that I am a part of, and the knowledge that so many people had found something special on that day. The season of Imbolc, the power of the land, and the Celtic Goddess Brigid was honoured here.

 

 

The White Spring – Imbolc 2012 part II

Early the next morning, three strong men set off to gather the hazel for the new bower. Prayerfully, joyfully, and whilst holding sacred intent, they made their way to a local wood. Knowledgable woodsmen, prepared to work thoughtfully and with regard to the spirit of the land, carefully coppiced and thinned the hazel trees. They communed with the woodland, made appropriate offerings and took just enough wood to build the bower.

There is an excitement that goes along with gathering resources from nature to take to the White Spring. Whether it is daffodils or hazel branches, it seems to be a joyful sacrifice. Sometimes stones or flowers, ivy, old man’s beard or teasels seem to call out from the hedgerows, ‘Take me to the waters’; as an offering to the spirit of the place we bring them in.

Max, my partner in life and at the White Spring told me of the usual discussions and questions that come up with a new helper on board. Why do we use hazel? Why not a more sturdy wood that would withstand the damp better? What is the point of replacing it every year when you could build one that would last two or three? I had asked these same questions the first time I was involved in the building of the bower. Now, four years on, I understand.

The Hazel (Corylus avellana) is one of the very oldest British native trees. Traces of hazel nut shells and pollen have been discovered in cave settlements, dating from around 10,000 years ago. It is considered harvestable and, like willow, it often aids the trees health and the woodland to coppice it and it is a sustainable resource if harvested correctly.

This tree is associated with the Goddess Brigid, goddess of wisdom and divine inspiration and as such is particularly suitable for the creation of a shrine in her honour.  The long golden male flowers; delicate catkins reveal one of the earliest signs of fertility in the new year. Often just showing themselves at the beginning of February, by March they are dusted with yellow pollen. As I said in Imbolc 2012 part I, we replace the bower with new hazel withies every year to bring our awareness to the living temple we hold and to the ever-changing cycles of nature.

After the hazel poles were delivered to the White Spring we started to make preparations for the building of it. That evening, my son came down with a fever and I needed to stay with him for most of the day, so I could not take part in the building of the bower this time. I started the day at the Spring with a prayer. I stood in circle in the empty space that was awaiting the bower with the three men who would be manifesting it. We took a moment of silence, to listen to the waters and get in tune with the sacred task at hand. Every step is taken prayerfully, every movement they would be holding that sacred intent.

I left to go home to be with my son. When I returned later in the afternoon they had already created the bare bones of the bower. It looked fantastic, a little off centre, but the weaving of the withies to strengthen the structure would pull it all into place. It would only take an hour or two of the next morning to complete it.

Again we seemed supported by the spirit of the Spring as the bower came into its final shape for the coming year. When complete, it was exquisite; the twisting branches all weaving around each other, like the roots of an ancient forest, to form a beautiful yet simple dome. Shadows danced across the walls, the network of branches made larger by the flickering candle light.

All complete, we put the perpetual flame back in place, hung the picture, brought in fresh flowers and sang … Bridget, our lady. Born as flaming arrows. Flame of divinity, guide us from the darkness. One final prayer, and offering to Our Lady, and the task was done. Now we were ready to prepare for the ceremony.

We gathered the keeper team together for a walkthrough and rehearsal on Monday night. Along with R, an 8-year-old girl, who would be taking the part of young Bridie to bring in the flame on the morning of February 1st.

As we gathered outside the building with the fading light, a man began to shout abuse at us from further up the road. I have had some difficulty with this individual before; I usually ignore him and go inside. This time I wasn’t happy to do that and although the man was drunk and there was a risk of further confrontation, I felt it was okay to go and ask him to stop shouting or go away.

There was further confrontation. I approached him alone and asked what he was upset about. He was very angry and ranting about our ceremonies and all manner of things. I know this man to be respectful sometimes, but when he has had a drink, not so. I let him express himself for a while – whilst holding my centre, then told him in no uncertain terms that it was not okay to stand there and shout at us. Eventually I matched his angry tone, shouted at him to go away, and then walked him up the hill, softening my tone as I went. When he was far enough from the White Spring for the sound to not reach us any more I turned and went back to the group. He shouted after me once more and I simply continued on my way. And he continued on his.

I have learnt the importance of asserting our boundaries at The White Spring and the art of being honest about what is disrespectful to the temple and to the keepers. It is a fine balance to maintain compassion and kindness whilst protecting the space and maintaining appropriate boundaries around people’s behaviour. I have been challenged like this on a few occasions, it is one of my least favourite parts of the job. I have decided to take care of this place and sometimes it means dealing with confrontational people. Sometimes it is frightening, and it is always empowering. (Later on in the week, this man apologised and told us he understood that it was not alright to shout at us.)

I shook off the energy of the confrontation and went into the temple with a fabulous group of keepers to walk through the ceremony that would take place on the next day. The Imbolc ceremony is a fine operation which involves perfect timing, the putting out and re-lighting of candles at just the right time, musicians and chants weaved into the celebration. We would all need to work in perfect synergy with each other.

Young Bridie was beautiful as ever, and she walked through with such grace that I had no doubt that she would be fine on the day. I know the young lady to be a wonderful spirited girl, and to see her take on the mantle of Bridie with such a graceful poise was beautiful to see.

After the walk-through, I went with young Bridie and her mum back to her home. We took the Brigid Flame that would be alight for the whole night, placed it in her room and said a prayer to Brigid. R and I prepared a small bed and we left the crown that she would wear the next day in the bed, so that Bridie may enter.

My own daughter had taken on the role of Young Bridie for three years, from the age of 8 through to 11. It was such an honour for her to connect with this ancient nurturing power and has been a potent rite of passage for her. She feels a strong connection to the bright spirit of Brigid, the Celtic Goddess, and that connection serves her well.

The White Spring – Imbolc 2012 part I

Each year, at the end of January, we remove the hazel bower that nestles in a chamber inside The White Spring and go about building a new one for the coming year. This is necessary because, after a year in the damp and darkness, the bower has deteriorated. It is clear it will not last very much longer, small branches snap off and it begins to smell, earthy and mouldy. A fresh bower, to house the perpetual flame and the Brigid shrine, is re-built ready for our Imbolc celebrations. It brings a vibrancy into the temple, a feeling as fresh and crisp as the very first snowdrops.

Yet there is another reason we renew the bower, and that is to maintain a living temple in this spot. To bring our awareness to the seasons of death and life and consciously take part in this constant flow of nature. Witnessing entropy giving way to life, and life giving way to entropy, one following the other through the year in perfect harmony.

Usually I have a small team working together to remove the Brigid bower and clean the chamber ready for the new structure, but this year it took me by surprise. I went to the White Spring, intending to take an hour to just sit and soak up the atmosphere, to gather my thoughts about the upcoming ceremony and to take some time for myself. I lit just a few candles and sat in the bower. I tried to be still, to contemplate where we are in the year and to ponder on the relevance of the seasonal tides and their reflections in my own life.

Of course, although I could sit still for a short while, my eyes wandered; drawn to the little things that visitors may not notice, but as a keeper, I cannot fail to. The little drips of candle wax down the wall, the few rotten leaves fallen from last weeks flower offerings, the picture needing a wipe down, dull candlesticks, and on and on. The inevitable list of jobs to be done in the next few days unfurled in my mind.

Sometimes I wonder about my attachment to duty or service, it can give me little room to just receive. I am always seeing the next thing that needs to be done, the next project that is unfolding, the tasks needed to care for this place. It is a skill to put all that aside and simply ‘dwell in the house of the waters’. Nevertheless, I do have moments of pure peace and sanctuary there, it brings me many blessings and it is always there for me in times of need. Clearly, my need on this day was to be physical.

Suddenly I was compelled to ‘Get it done!’ It was as if the words and the compulsion had come from outside of me. Just get it done. So I did. I carefully carried the lantern holding the bright flame over to the seasonal alter in the south-west of the building, moved the rocks that secured the arched doorway to the shrine and took out the wooden benches so that the chamber was empty apart from the whale like structure.

Then I spied a whole host of delicate long-stemmed mushrooms that had grown from the brick work under the benches. I looked closer to see that they had marched right along the floor and were growing from the stone walls. Deep in entropy, life was thriving. I got down on my hands and knees and traced the pattern of mushrooms, delighted by their wanderings, evoking a feeling of fairy magic, so often present here.

With that magic singing inside me I started to respectfully take the ribbons, prayers and offerings that had been tied to the bower. I put them all together in a bowl and sat them on the wall in front of the large central pool with a blessing.

Then, by candlelight, I began to take down the structure – I pulled at the door frame and the whole thing collapsed onto one side of the chamber. As I took out the central spine it dragged all the branches together into a  neat pile. All I needed to do was to break the branches into manageable lengths and take them outside. I had thought that I would be only making a start, that I would break it down into a pile of wood and then take it out with help later in the day. However, the task was effortless and I managed to get much farther into it than I could have imagined. In fact in less than two hours I managed to remove the whole structure, taking bundle after bundle of broken hazel branches outside into the courtyard. I swept up all of the twigs and washed down the whole area, taking care to leave a few of the delicate mushrooms still growing on the wall.

Work done I stood back in amazement. There is no doubt in my mind that I must have had otherworldly helpers. It was remarkable that the branches fell into a tidy pile instead of a messy tangle, that it seemed effortless to take it all outside, and even more remarkable, that there were no visitors expecting a chat, no-one came in to tell their story or to ask me about the story of the White Spring or what I was doing.

I stood there in the now empty chamber and it evoked a feeling of the bareness of the land, the stillness embracing me and making me ready to receive the new. Reflecting nature, the first stirrings of life ready to push forth. Nothingness awaiting manifestation.

I put out the candles and stayed in the darkness with the doors closed; my private moment of sanctuary, and I sang. ‘I rise, like the morning star, eager to begin the new day … I shine, with the golden light from the sun.’

There are many ways to pray, many ways to find your centre and feel the wonder of life and to realise peace and harmony within oneself. Some of the most potent prayers I have found are those combined with physical activity. Sweeping the floors, cleaning the wax drippings, lighting the candles, breaking down the old making way for the new – so very powerful when undertaken prayerfully with clear intent.

The White Spring – A Year in the Life of a Temple

‘ The White Spring – A Year in the Life of a Temple’ begins.

Icicles at the White Spring

I will be keeping an online record of all of my activities as custodian and keeper of The White Spring on Wellhouse Lane in Glastonbury for the coming year from Imbolc (February) 2012 – 2013. The White Spring is a unique place that offers unique challenges and blessings. I will be sharing some of my stories with you, alongside some insight into what really goes on here. I intend to publish it all together at the end of the year, yet here at Wizard News you can read about it as it unfolds.

Many people visit the White Spring and get a limited impression of the place, having only seen it in the context of their visit. It is such a diverse place, and it has so many different faces, it would be impossible to get a clear picture of what it is from just a few visits. I am going to attempt the impossible, and also try to capture the essence of the place and put it into words so that more people understand the philosophy behind the running of this new and unique style of Temple.

There is often misunderstanding about the nature of The White Spring, my role there, or the activities that take place. I wish to share my experiences so that people may begin to understand something about what lies behind the creation and upkeep of this powerful and remarkable place.

For more information about the history and current use of this sacred site please visit www.whitespring.org.uk

Now to begin, here is some background, from the White Spring website.

‘It is one of the greatest mysteries of the Isle of Avalon that two different healing springs, one touched red with iron, the other white with calcite, should rise within a few feet of each other from the caverns beneath Glastonbury Tor. Both have healing in their flow.

In honour of the Spirit of the White Spring, a Temple has been created here in gratitude for the gift of pure water. A Victorian built Well House that nestles beneath Glastonbury Tor is ideal for this purpose. Cavernous and set apart, in blackness or candle lit, mysterious it remains. A wonderful contrast to the sunlit gardens of Chalice Well of the Red Spring. The interior consists of three domed vaults 16ft high, with beautiful bowed floors – like the hull of a boat moored at the portal to the Otherworld. With a constant temperature, and the sound of the perpetually flowing water, it is a unique and sacred space.

A series of pools have been built according to the principles of sacred geometry, and simple shrines in honour of the ancient energies and spirits of Avalon have been created within the temple. All enhanced by the ley line known as the Michael line which flows through this place. We honour Brigid as guardian, Our Lady of Avalon, the King of the Realm of Faery, and their ancient presence in this sacred space.

The companions of the White Spring, men and women who give their time and expertise freely, have designed, built and created the temple and continue to care for it, inspired and greatly helped by the blessings of spirit. Many groups, pilgrims, and local people – from a wide diversity of backgrounds and traditions – have come to appreciate the blessings of this sacred space. In keeping with the sense of sacred at the White Spring there is no charge or expectation of donation, neither is anyone paid. ‘

I have been given the task of taking care of this place and I do so to the best of my ability. I would never have imagined that I would take on such an endeavor, yet it is a labour of love, and I do it  joyfully. It offers me powerful personal lessons about my life, and frequently calls me to be the very best I can be. Then sometimes, brings me right back to earth with a thump. It challenges my perceptions, allows me to examine the shadow side of my self, and to find the treasure hidden in the shadows. The White Spring brings so many blessings and much love and it is an honour to be a part of its unfolding.

Tomorrow, I will talk about the preparations that we made for our Imbolc Celebrations, the building of the new Brigid Bower to house the shrine, and some fascinating stories that have come to us through the passing season.

Bright Blessings

Lisa

Seasonal Ritual for Imbolc

Ok! so lets start with the whats and the whys. What is Imbolc? Principally it is one of the key 8 seasonal points of the year. Why should we celebrate it? Well it is more of a rejoicing, as Imbolc marks the end of winter and the start of spring. Thus the life and energy returning to the land around us. As practitioners we are wise to have a deep awareness of what the energy of the world around us is doing, so that we are able to work with it rather than be hindered by it.

Seasonal Celebrations should always be kept simple. After all, you’re not expected to turn the wheel, or even raise the energy to, in this case, melt the snows, but we are encouraged to mark and signify what is happening .

Thus, we need to look at what the Seasonal Correspondences are. I often smile when I read the pages and pages of what stuff has been attributed to what meaning. At the end of the day, we can weave deep meaning into what ever has deep meaning for us. Which is why, with these Seasonal Rites, keeping it simple is so important. So let us focus on what we see.

At this time of year;
Plants that naturally flower. (Ergo the source for oils & herbs) Dutch Crocus, Green Hellebore, Hazel, Snowdrop, Spurge Laurel, Stinking Hellebore, Winter Aconite and Winter Cherry.

Animals key to this time of year: robins, sheep especially lambs, swans, wolves, hibernators just starting to awaken

What is the world doing right now? Waking up! Energy is starting to flow again, heat is pushing up from the ground beneath. The beat to the dance of life has just started to tap her feet, so it is time to feel the music and take to the dance floor, with or without a partner, or risk missing the season.

Be thankful for surviving the winter, but lets not dwell on the past. Now it time to look to the work that needs to be done. So, it is a potent time to bless your seeds for the coming year’s crops and consecrate your tools that you need to plant them. So now our intention is set, let’s start the ritual.

You will need with you;
fire wood
gardens tools to be consecrated
seeds intending to be planted
snowdrops or even snowdrop oil or essence

Find a spot outside; a place directly on the ground that you intend to plant is the most perfect.
Build a small, but to become hot, fire. Don’t light it yet (a few lumps of coal always help raise the heat)
Rub a little snowdrop oil on your hands, neck and feet, or gaze at the snowdrops to attune with it’s essence.
Call to the spirits around you. This can be done by direction and elemental placement, or as you are already outside you can walk in a circle around your fire and call the names of those energies and spirits that you know and wish to have beside you.
e.g. As I walk upon the waking land. I invite all those that have helped me get here (name a few if you wish this includes Gods and Goddess) and I welcome all those who wish to attend with this *shared intention*
( **that bit is keep out the potential trouble makers).

Light the fire and say words along the line of ”as the heat returns to the ground beneath me, let this fire mark the ground with my intent” or with a chant or song of your choice.

Work the fire until it is nice and hot. Through the smoke and heat start to see and dream of what your ground will look like when fully planted. This may take a little time, all dependent on how well you built your fire.

When the fire is blazing, place your metal tools into the flames; and I mean get the metal right into the embers and let them sit there. If they have plastic handles then keep the plastic away from the fire and if your tools are all plastic or you are worried about damage to them, hold them over the heat for as long as you dare.

Once you have heated them all, either at at once or each of them one at a time. Plunge them in to the ground around you forming a circle. The metal of the tools should, if hot enough, let out a nice steamy hiss as the hot metal hits the cold moist soil. This process both consecrates the tools, marks them with your intention and further adds your energy to the ground that you intend to work.

Now, standing in a circle of your newly consecrated tools, lightly move your seeds through the smoke; either still in their packets or on trays. You can say words like ” We bless these seeds with cleansing smoke from the fire of our intention” Once they all have been smoked take a mixed handful of seeds and cast them into the fire. For a moment or two, breath in the smoke that they produce. This is your offering to the spirits for a kind spring.

Then gather up your tools, thank all the spirits that turned up and leave the space with the fire still burning. Allow the spirits of your land some undisturbed time by the fire of your intent. Giving them a chance to work a little of their own magic.

What are your Imbolc wishes and intentions?

Imbolc; Nature is on the rampage!

‘Sap is rising,’ say experts. Bright green buds have been seen on the trees, new shoots have emerged, thrusting powerfully from the ground. Reports are coming in from all across the land. Witnesses are reporting signs of spring emerging.

The maiden Goddess Bridie has been seen walking the land, and where she passes it comes alive, nature seems to rejoice, new seeds sprout and snowdrops appear.

‘It’s amazing,’ says Martha from NorthWooton. ‘The woodland is awash with new life! I saw a lady, wearing white and carrying a lantern, she strolled through the woods, and right into my garden! I wondered why she was there, but stayed quiet, for as she passed the garden seemed to sing with joy. I have never seen anything like it.’ Other places have reported angels literally pushing up the new shoots, it is said that their careful crafting will result in nodding snowdrops, flowering crocuses and green hellibore. The emergence of catkins on the hazel trees have merely added to the rumours that nature is indeed on the rampage.

This trend is set to continue as the days get longer and the sun gets warmer. Our experts have examined the evidence and have found that the new buds will soon flower. Heralding abundance throughout this fair isle. Prepare yourself for a wonderful shift as we move through this powerful transition. Explore your garden and see the signs for yourself. Rejoice, for this is the herald of the spring.

Where is renewal arising in your life? What new projects will you be seeding this season? Please do drop us a line, we would love to know how you are using the natural tides of nature to support your own process.