White Spring – The Gateway

The Gates are complete and will be fitted this week in readyness for our re-opening on Saturday 5th April.

This beautiful design was drawn by the blacksmith, Phil Raynor, who also crafted the gates. They were taken from my original vision and sketches. What an amazing skill, to take someone’s impression of what they would like and manifest it into a thing of beauty.

The gates are unusual in that they open along the curve of the three vesica piscis. The symbols in each one represent the archetypes or expressions of divinity that we celebrate and honour at the White Spring and to reflect the living mythology of this land.

The triple vesica piscis design is laid on a background of lines suggesting a large chalice or grail and in filled with smaller spirals, primarily added for safety.

The top section depicts Brighde’s cross, in honour of the Celtic Goddess and Christian Saint, long felt to be one of the guardians of the White Spring.

The image at the base is the triple flame, to symbolise the fires of inspiration, transformation, and the flame of the hearth. This section is also representative of three drops of inspiration from the cauldron of the Dark Lady in the ‘Tale of Taliesin’, the three rays of Awen.

The central spiral is inspired from a simple image that we have been using for quite some time, a spiral within Glastonbury Tor to represent the other-worldly home of the King of the Realm of Fae, often experienced locally as Gwyn Ap Nudd.

We have included the Tor and the tower within the central symbol in honour of Archangel Micheal.

These are all representative of the sacred and magical sources that we feel to be potent at The White Spring. I hope you will agree that these are exquisite gates that reflect the beauty of the inner sanctuary.

We would love to see you on Saturday, and if you cannot make it, please take a moment of your day to offer a prayer or loving thoughts to the water. Water holds memory and from here in the heart of Avalon our collective love of the sacred water places spreads out into the land.

Brightest Blessings.

Lisa Goodwin

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 – Glastonbury Beltane Begins

What a long Beltane season it has been. Glastonbury has been alive with vibrancy and energy.

It began with weeks of preparations; Before I can even think about the seasonal altar at The White Spring we gather with an informal group of Glastonbury residents. From Spring Equinox onwards we all begin to weave and craft the town celebrations. In a relatively short time we do manage, by some miracle, to plan and create wonderful community celebration for townsfolk and visitors of all faiths and backgrounds to join in with …. More about that in the next blog.

The run up to Mayday / Beltane can be hectic; there is so much going on …

At the April Dark moon, we had set the seasonal altar and were ready for the week running up to April 1st. However, the weather turned, we had rain, and more rain … floods, high winds! It was beginning to look like some of the Beltane events could easily be a washout.

Each year, Max and I host a Beltane firewalk at the end of April. Firewalking is beautiful in the rain, but not so great in a flood or gale. We had to change our venue at the last minute and fortunately found a field that wasn’t waterlogged.

It is a wonderful and empowering thing to do and it perfectly compliments the work we do at the White Spring. Particularly potent at Beltane, firewalking has become a tradition for us at this time of year. There were 18 firewalkers, including my own son. He has been around a lot of firewalking events, has seen me teach on many occasions, yet at 16 years old this would be his first time participating.

We all gathered around to light the fire. This is no ordinary fire! This fire is lit with a 7 year flame, and built with sacred intent. Whenever I can, I use the Brigid flame that I keep at The White Spring and on my shrine at home to light the firewalks.

The group were fabulous, we had a lot of fun preparing for the walk before all of us, everyone, went outside and walked the coals. After the build up, after feeling the nervous energy in the room when people arrive, after the focused teaching and raising of energy; after all this comes the celebration as people cross the coals; it is liberating, free, reality shifting … a dance begins; a celebration of life and a realisation that amazing things really are possible.

And, it didn’t rain!

I have done this workshop with hundreds of people, but on this night I got to see my son take part! It is incredible to see people walk the coals time and time again, but for me to witness my own son and knowing what it means to him on a deeper level, was something entirely different. I was quite overwhelmed at the end of it all. As elated as I was, I would need to sleep; I had to be up and ready the next morning to open the White Spring for two groups.

The first group arrived to find the wellhouse lit beautifully, and me standing in the central pool! This is an immense thing to do after a night of firewalking, it is like the tempering of the sword. Like when a blacksmith fires up a bit of metal, he hammers it into shape and plunges it into cold water! It is such a powerful sensation to stand in that water after doing something so incredible.

I got out of the pool and dried my feet whilst the group got settled in and set up, then stayed with them as they chanted and sang. I sat by the front door, so as not to intrude, and I listened. It was really good to just sit and be at peace in the place after all the heightened energy of the night before.

The next group we had booked in had been at the firewalk, and instead of the calm and serene feeling from the first group, this group were excitable, energised and still buzzing from the night (even those who had just come to watch their friends!) They all took off their shoes and put their feet in the water – one of them said it was almost as difficult as the firewalk because the water was so very cold. They soon got used to it and were walking all around the place barefoot. Their first time firewalking and their first time at The White Spring. They had an awesome weekend!

Beltane waits for no man, or woman … so onward. After the two groups were gone, it was up to Bushey Coombe at midday to meet the women of Glastonbury to prepare the hole for the Maypole – so I collected some water, a trowel, shovel and most importantly strawberries and chocolate to share. It had been blowing a gale the night before and some of the trees in the lane had come down. It was grey and windy, a bit wet still and the grass was soaked. After shifting a broken tree limb from the road on Wellhouse Lane, I arrived at the end of the lane leading to the coombe. I got the tools and the treats to the site, and two other women arrived. The three of us bailed out the hole from last year, which had filled with water, and dug a little deeper. We decorated the hole with flowers, made our offerings to the land and shared water, treats and love. We said a prayer for all of our sisters, and brothers, and made a wish that all those who are looking for love find their heart’s desire. The rain only just held off, and the wind blew away the cobwebs. There were less women than in previous years, but the job was done.

We thought of the men, who had gone to collect the maypole ready for the celebrations on the 1st. We knew that they had gone to Wearyal Hill to collect it, and they had to carry it through town to the Assembly rooms.The rain did hold off for us, but as soon as we were done, the heavens opened and it poured.

With the maypole planting preparations done, Max and I returned home to get ready for Tuesday’s Beltane Celebrations in town. On the Monday, we needed to build a bower for the May Queen and Summer King, and attend a walkthrough for the ceremony on Bushey Coombe. I didn’t need to be there so I decided to take a bit of time out to walk the land. It is important to connect with the land when you are involved in this kind of work – my time spent communing with the land is very special and it connects me to the forces of nature in a deep way.

I felt quite relaxed about the whole thing, although it was busy, I felt very calm in the midst of seeming chaos. The big day was approaching, and hundreds of people would come to the Springs as part of the celebrations.

On Monday night I went to bed wishing for good weather – and the next morning, we went to make sure the White Spring was ready to light up quickly and recieve lots of visitors. Well, it wasn’t!

More about that in the next blog!

Bright blessings

Lisa

 

 

 

 

The White Spring Diary – Beltane Preparations

So with the season of Beltane fully upon us, the seasonal altar changes. Although we are very caught up with the Community Beltane Celebrations our focus is very much on the White Spring. Often at this time of year, the energy rises, and occasionally so does the noise. We have to be very careful that it doesn’t get out of hand, and occasionally remind some of our more raucous visitors to be thoughtful of other people’s needs. It has been relatively peaceful over the past week, but before that we had one or two people who were trying to be disruptive – this was dealt with quite quickly and with little fuss. It is not wise to take our eye off of the White Spring at this time of year.

Besides, we have our own For the Love of It Celebration to organise at the Beltane full moon. Altars need to be set and cleaned, and the powerful spring water flows kept in check so that we don’t flood with the increased flow. Whenever I reset the seasonal altar, it gets a complete wash down with White Spring water. All the offerings are taken down and the stones are cleared of wax and scrubbed clean.

For this Beltane altar I placed red and white fabric at the back, behind everything, then a huge copper disk in front to symbolise the return of the summer and to give a beautiful reflection. I like simple shrines and altars and I also like to avoid too much clutter, so I do try to keep it very simple. I created a simple maypole using a stick from my altar at home and attaching red and white ribbons to it. I planted it in the earth that I had put into a small glass vase. This I placed in the centre of the altar. We were gifted some wonderful clay faces, one masculine and one feminine, these were also placed on the altar, with the ribbons connecting to them both, and to the candle that lit up the whole scene. Our Beltane picture was placed to the side of the altar, leaving the dramatic contrast of the red and white colours around and in front of the copper.Now for some fresh flowers, and a stone to ground the whole scene and it was set.

I used more red and white fabric to cover the inside of the doors and create a kind of opening at the entrance. This is also to cover up the damage on the doors (they are the same doors that were there in the 1980’s and although they have lasted well, they have definately had their day. We are currently awaiting new doors, paid for by donations and gifts, which are being hand made by a local carpenter who undertands the energy of The White Spring and what is required from such a set of doors. Sometimes we have to wait for quality craftsmanship.

I had gone to the Spring in the late morning, arriving early for a booking, to give me enough time to redress the altar before the group arrived. I had just completed the task and lit some incense when they turned up. The leader of the group was so appreciative, it was very special for him and this group to have some private time there. I could see why, they loved the place.

It was a grey day that threatened to rain, so they all arrived wearing raincoats and walking boots. I sat at the front step, ready to answer any questions or let people out if they wanted to leave. It was my favourite place to sit when we have a group, you can take in the whole scene and see the diverse ways that people engage with the place, and with the water. There were all ages in the group, a balance of men and women. They visited all the shrines, stopping longer at some than others. It wasn’t long before they decided to get undressed and bathe in the pools. Many of the group bathed naked in the healing pool, and then in the central pool. It is a beautiful gift to be able to hold such a place for people to visit and I am often humbled to see what an impact it has.

One of the visitors came to talk to me. She told me that she was a shaman and asked me if I felt a connection to a dragon power animal. I aid yes; I could understand why she may have tuned in to this, I often commune with what I perceive to be a dragon spirit at the White Spring, I feel a kinship with this particular force there and was not at all surprised to hear that she had noticed this connection. This lady, from New York, stayed after the rest of the group had left and spent a lot of time at each of the shrines. She asked if I would sing with her and share some of the songs that we sing at the White Spring. We sang together … Born of water, cleansing, powerful; healing, changing, I am … then Spirit of the water place, I hear your song. It was delightful to sing together and she wrote down some of the words before taking them to share with the whole group at their fire ceremony the next day.

That evening I had to attend a meeting about the town celebrations. For the past 3 years we have been involved in organising the Beltane celebrations in town. I say organising, but what I really mean is, holding a space where an organic group of volunteers can come together and make something happen. Each year it is different, due to the changing nature of the group and their backgrounds. It’s an interesting excercise to surrender what your personal vision may be to include those of the collective. It is amazing how it all comes together, as people feel empowered to take on roles and organise parts of the day. Somehow the magic happens and we have a stunning spectacle each year for the hundreds of visitors who come to town for Beltane.

It was my job to bring a schedule for the part of the procession that stops at the White Spring and Chalice Well for a blessing of the waters. We knew there would be hundreds of visitors and it is quite a task to get them all through the building and onward to the ceremony out on the land. We discussed the best way of doing this and prepared a loose plan. Chalice Well would be opening the monks gate, so that people may go into the gardens freely and a representative would come out with a blessing from the red waters.We would have a chance to rest and refresh by the waters.

Everyone seemed happy with the ideas, so after a long day I went home and warmed up from the chill I had in my legs from being in the Spring for too long earlier in the day. I love that feeling, but it needs to be sorted, a fire (or a duvet) and a hot drink usually does the trick.

In amongst the preparations, I had word that a VortexHealing teacher of ours would be in town teaching basic and advanced VortexHealing. I had been in contact with him and invited him to the White Spring to see what he thought about the place. He said he would come and we had arranged a day for his visit. He told me that he would also see if ‘Merlin’ … (as arising within VortexHealing) has a gift for this sacred space. I could hardly wait for his visit, but I had too. It was my son’s 12th birthday and I had things planned with him. It would have to wait until after the weekend. And it will have to wait for the next post for you to read about the exciting developments.

Bright Blessings

Lisa

The White Spring Diary – Glastonbury 2012 – Unity and Diversity

We have had such a vibrant and busy Beltane season so far that I have only just had a chance to write it all down – and we still have some way to go with our full moon Beltane celebration happening from dusk to dawn tomorrow, Saturday 5th May.

The last couple of weeks have flown by. We have felt such a shift of energy co-inciding with some pokey magical unfolding. I’ll start by telling you about the multi faith gathering organised by the Pilgrim Reception Centre. Glastonbury 2012.

On Saturday 21st April 2012 a momentous event occurred here in Glastonbury. I hadn’t realised the enormity of it until I was walking into the centre of a circle of representatives of over 50 different faiths, paths and ways. All of us gathering together in a spirit of unity.

It was a remarkable undertaking. Everyone had been invited to collect a candle and a small blue bottle from the pilgrim reception centre in town so that they may bring water from wherever they wished in the locality and take a light from the Glastonbury candle away with them.

A Glastonbury candle was lit in the morning and placed on a magnificent flowered bier. It was then carried from place to place, resting at many churches, sacred sites and places of spiritual significance to many townsfolk.

I had opened the White spring for the afternoon and awaited the arrival of the candle at 4pm at the last stopping point of the journey. I had collected the water that I would bring to the ceremony from the healing pool, at the shrine dedicated to ‘Our Lady of Glastonbury’.

At around 3.30 two of our keepers arrived for the ceremony, so Max and I went to prepare the candle. It was too big for most lanterns so Max had to whittle the bottom of it so it would fit into the one we had brought.

A friend came running up the hill to tell us that the candle would arrive soon. It had been carried over Glastonbury Tor by druids and bards of the town.

What a lovely sight it was, from the bottom of Wellhouse Lane as the Druids of Glastonbury appeared carrying the candle and a standard bearing the Awen symbol. They processed to the White spring and placed it inside the building.

Now, I am accustomed to sensing the energy and consciousness of a flame through my work with the fire. I teach firewalking and keep a perpetual flame that has been kept alight for 7 years, so I feel an affinity with fire energy. This flame had been lit that morning, using a Glastonbury candle that has been created and infused with herbs and essences including The Holy Thorn. It was lit with a dedication to unity and diversity; a flame to honour the multi-faceted aspects of Glastonbury. It had journeyed to so many places around the town, carried by representatives of many different faiths and I could feel the significance in this. I had thought it would have been great to have lit it with the Brigid flame, but now I could see that this was a different kind of energy that was building.

After a few minutes in the dark of the cave like structure under the Tor, it was time for us to carry the candle to the gardens of Chalice Well. Two of us were needed to hold the large bier that housed the lantern. We placed it on our shoulders and walked the long way round to the gardens led by Morgana, manager of The Pilgrim Reception centre. I was at the front and could not see the flame. Max was holding the other end, he told me later that his main objective was to stop the bier from swinging side to side and to keep the flame from going out!

As we turned onto Chilkwell Street, Morgana turned and asked me to sing so we sang, ‘there is a fire burning for peace.’

As we entered the garden and saw the people gathered there I really began to feel the power of what was happening here. I felt a rush of energy come up through me as we entered the circle and placed the candle in the centre.

I was a little overwhelmed as I collected my lantern from the keeper who had been holding it for me. I stepped back into the circle. Opening up to the moment, I looked around me and saw so many people with different ways of life gathered around this one flame. Neighbours, friends, people I see regularly, others I have yet to meet, all gathered together.

A few words were said about the flame, about the gardens and about why we were invited to this event. We were asked to step forward and pour the water we had collected into a beautiful crystal glass bowl made for the occasion. To say something of what we represent and then to light our candle with a blessing.

I had thought about what I represented; I am the current custodian of The White Spring and keeper of the perpetual flame held by Brigid, a flame of divine consciousness arising in humanity. I represent … (wow, big statement!) what do I represent? …. Me? The energies of the White spring? Pagan? Wizard? Priestess? Mother? Druid? the divine power expressed from this locality of being? No thing? I could and I do represent all of this and none of it … If that makes sense.

I ended up saying nothing about what I thought I represented, feeling unable to put it in a box or limit it by labelling it. Instead I simply stated where I had brought the water from and then lit my candle with a blessing.

‘A blessing for all the people of Glastonbury and all who pass through this place, living and non-living. May this gathering here today help us all to re-member … Re-member the common unity here in the heart. The heart of the land, the heart of the world. May the heart thrive!’

Everyone stepped forward and one by one poured their water and lit their candle with a unique blessing for Glastonbury. Water was brought from all over the landscape. From hills and springs, from gardens and graveside, from rivers and taps.

It was very moving to see each person come forward in such diverse expressions with a common purpose.

If we can stand in a circle of peace here in Glastonbury, extending our compassion and love to others in our community no matter their background, or their way of belief and faith, then why not across the whole world? Perhaps this is just the seed, maybe other towns and cities will be inspired to do the same, gathering together to celebrate similarities instead of fighting over differences.

As the candle was taken by each person and lit up the whole circle, I was reminded of an analogy that I came across that helped me to make sense of the many different paths to the same source.

There is a lamp so bright that it may overwhelm you, it burns so powerfully. This lamp has a lampshade lest it blind those who look upon it. It is so vastly beyond our comprehension. There are many different shapes to let some of the light through. Some familiar, others not so. We are drawn towards those shapes and impressions of the light that make sense to us. Those shapes give the light a form through which our human understanding can access the awesome light at the centre. There is just the one divine light – the shape, the story and the structure that we give to it is our own unique way of experiencing that divine expression.

One of my teachers told me once that it is fun to hang out where god hangs out … It may seem funny to think of it like that, yet this thinking has led me to special sites of power, and some churches, chapels, ashrams, darshans and to unexpected places and people where I have felt potent expressions of divinity. Here I was again, hanging out where god hangs out; feeling divinity arising, and this time with so many different tones, expressions and flavours.

After everyone had come forward, we were offered a bottle to take some of the mixed waters away with us and another gift. A sweet little box with pieces of the Holy Thorn inside it. This symbolic gift was potent. The Holy Thorn was damaged last year, a devastating event that sent ripples around the world. People of many faiths were united in their feelings of sadness. Paradoxically, this destructive dismemberment has inspired this gathering together of different faiths. An act of violence has manifested a powerful moment of peace and remembrance.

At the end of the ceremony, Natasha of Chalice Well, Morgana and I took the remaining water. Half of it was poured into the flow form pool in the gardens and half was poured into the pool at the White Spring.

I took up the lantern, my small bottle of water and gift from the Holy Thorn home to my altar. I imagined all the other participants doing the same; all going in their own directions; branching out into the community with this feeling of unity.

May we all feel inspired to look for what unites us and allow that to grow in the heart of our communities.

Blessings x

The White Spring – Lost Knights and Naked Ladies

The last time I wrote about the White Spring, I spoke of The Wounded Masculine and Seeking Balance, and the paradox that this presents. One thing that helps me a great deal when faced with expressions of ‘wounded masculine’ is to think them as ‘Lost Knights,’ The warrior archetype has been twisted all over the world. Many men and women with a strong warrior archetype are celebrated as fighters, turned into soldiers and sent overseas. The warrior at home often seems to have little place and so can become confused or lost. This idea of lost knights evokes my compassion and stops me from getting too fearful when faced with aggression.

Another keeper, after reading last week, commented that they had dealt with a tricky situation at the White Spring. In summary, a ‘wounded’ guy who often visits was very angry and complained that he couldn’t enjoy the Sanctuary in the way that he wanted because there were people bathing and being noisy. He was upset at the blatant nudity and said he could not meditate at the shrines because of it.

After patiently listening to why he was upset, the keepers explained about the bathing and apologised that the energy of The White Spring was not good for him that day – this had the effect of calming him down and he apologised for his anger. I am so happy to know that the keepers on that day showed such compassion and understanding. It is not always easy when faced with someone who is ranting. The wisdom of those keepers resonated beautifully with what I wrote about in the last blog – and to sum it up, in her words …

‘How do we get the balance right ALL the time? …the truth is we don’t! We go with the flow just like the Whitesprings itself does!! Sometimes there are blockages, fast flowing energies, peacefully flowing energies etc. that describe the waters and the people who visit there.’

This is spot on.

We don’t get it right all the time. One person comes to meditate, another comes to bathe (and may even squeal! It is rather cold after all); one comes to sing gently, another to drum; one wants peace, another wants a celebration; one wants to have a beer in the garden, another wishes to see only the sacred beauty and instead feels fearful of a man with a can; one wants to bathe naked, another doesn’t want to see nakedness.

It is a temple of life, and as such it changes and flows as a living and evolving thing. Expectations will not always be met, visitors may need to surrender their needs when they arrive, or wait until they can book a private session.

All of us have different expectations and needs. So how do we balance that whilst being all-inclusive and free? Well, as discussed already, we can’t … so maybe I should ask, how do we find harmony within that?

Let’s talk about the issue of nude bathing. This is a tricky issue, and one that need care in how we handle it.

Recently I was sent a message from lady who had enjoyed her visit to the White Spring, but had sat down to meditate and then, looked up to see a naked man. She was suddenly shocked and felt she had to leave. She was writing to me to tell me her concerns, and in particular that she was worried that we may get in trouble because we were allowing nudity in a public place, where children may be present. She did not know that ritual bathing has been taking place here for about 20 years (maybe even longer), nor did she think we had thought it through properly.

I understood some of her worries, even though they were expressed with a lot of fear around nakedness. I needed to be careful about my response and I checked that the law hadn’t changed around nudity.

If someone is naked in public they can be arrested and charged with an offence – however, if there was no intent to cause distress then it is very unlikely that a charge would come about. In any case, the White Spring is not a public place, so the same rules do not apply. Obviously if someone came with the intent of causing distress, naked or otherwise we would deal with it.

I do agree that a notice needs to be put up to inform people that nude bathing may take place, so that people are forewarned when they arrive. Whilst we wish to let sensitive people know, we don’t want to advertise nakedness, so it will have to be carefully worded.

I understand that families come to the Spring, and that children often come in with their parents. Occasionally I tell them that people are bathing when they are – and these families don’t seem to mind. Usually if children are there, they giggle and disappear to another place in the building. Their parents have a chance to talk to them about their feelings about nakedness and bodies. I actually think it is a good thing and it shows us that the human body is not something to be afraid or ashamed of.

Often the keepers find themselves as protectors of a sort – protecting the privacy of those who wish to bathe, and the sensitivity of those who wish to meditate. This can be challenging – I have even had to ask a couple to stop taking photographs of people bathing! Despite the no photography policy, taking photos of people ritually bathing is really not on.

I have seen one person on the site who was very upset about the nude bathing and left quite quickly, I talked to them just before they left because they looked quite freaked out. I told them that people often bathe, and if they wanted to enjoy the space without that possibility they were welcome to make a private booking at no charge.

I love the fact that people feel safe to bathe in the waters at the White Spring, many people come and have ritual baths and are very respectful of the place. I dont’ want to limit this and I am reluctant to set up rules around nakedness. However a few folk who bathe like to behave as if there is no one else in the building. One or two visitors in the past have been quite extrovert. Dancing around the pools, even doing yoga whilst naked. I know they believe they are acting in a sacred manner and we have been quite tolerant. Still, I have to acknowledge that some people find this quite uncomfortable.

So, I decided that the next time someone was overly extrovert in their nakedness, I would let them know that they can book the building if they want to behave as if no one else in there. Otherwise, I would encourage them to be more respectful and thoughtful of other visitors.

Then came the test.

On Spring Equinox, we had a wonderful and energetic celebration which ended in us all standing around the central pool. Everyone put their hands in the water whilst we said a prayer for the waters of the world, and then we splashed the waters toward each other, cheering and whooping. Such joy and exuberance led to several women taking off their clothes and jumping in the water. It was quite beautiful and innocent, yet very extrovert nakedness.

To see these women feeling so free and liberated was very empowering, both for them and for others who saw them. They danced in the candlelight, their voices echoing through the chambers. They felt so free in their nudity they even decided to run outside the building and up the road to have a pee. (Thanks to the girls for not peeing in the water!)

There was not the slightest hint of sexual behaviour or wishing to cause distress – if anything, it was the opposite. It  created a huge amount of joy, everyone was smiling. Beautiful naked ladies, fun and laughter, a celebration that was just perfect for the moment.

So did I ask them to stop. No of course not.

We have to take each moment as it comes. I learnt that imposed rules are not always appropriate – had I followed through with my thinking I would not have allowed room for spontaneous moments of joy like this. Moments that seem just perfect.

The White Spring is such a unique place and we are blessed to be here, learning and growing as we discover more about ourselves. So we extend our welcome to all who wish to be in a temple of life where people feel free to express their true nature, where naked ladies (and men) can bathe, (thoughtfully, joyfully, repectfully) and where lost knights (male or female) may be found and remembered.

This is such a tricky issue, and i would love to hear from you about your thoughts on nakednes in this context. Please get in touch if you have any further thought or insights.

Next time I will be writing about another controversy – No Photos!

Brightest Blessings

The White Spring – on blocked drains and a Peruvian Saint

On Sunday I had to return to the Spring despite my previous plans to spend the day at home.

It was treacherous on both the pavement and the road where people collect water. I took salted grit and a spade to clear the ice which was done quite quickly. Then, on going inside, I found that the drain taking the water away had blocked. We had a flood by the back door. This is relatively common, so it causes no alarm. The plumbing that was put in place in the 80’s to take the water under the courtyard has a ‘dog leg’ bend in it. So that just a few twigs or leaves escaping through the mesh leading to the drain can easily block it.

There is no other remedy but to take up the drain cover, get the rods out and start clearing. It can be a fun practical meditation; symbolically clearing blockages on a personal level too. I often get an audience whilst doing this; the drain cover is right there in the middle of the courtyard.

This is the time when I most often hear the questions and comments like ‘ you know what this place needs?’ or ‘what you need to do is…’  I listen patiently, I sometimes respond with ‘yes we have tried that,’ or ‘the reason we cannot do that right now is …’ I rarely hear anything new that hasn’t been tried before. Of course, I know that the only long-term solution is to dig up the whole courtyard; a task for the future when the funding becomes available to transform the garden.

I continued to push the drain rods through over and over until I heard the satisfying gurgle, and saw air bubbles rising to the surface. The water drained away rapidly, rushing through the pipes unencumbered – job done. I left to go home and spend the rest of the day with my children, two wonderful helpers were due to open at 1.30pm. I saw them as I left, and we talked about changing the rota slightly for Sundays. I must confess, I have only just sorted it out.

The White Spring is never far from my thoughts, wherever I am and whatever I am doing. I have many tasks including taking bookings, checking emails and comments, keeping the calendar, writing words for the website etc. I often have calls from groups all around the world who want to have some private time in the place. Tuesday is my usual admin day, but I take calls all week of course.

I had a call from a Lady who had arrived last November for an impromptu visit, she wanted to arrange a booking. It had been one of those remarkable visits where Max and I had just popped in to do a small job and were planning to leave quite quickly. I was taking the ‘Shepherdess’ painting of Brigid to a new home and we had just come to collect it when a sweet face looked in through the doorway.

We had little time so Max tried to explain that we were not open. The lady said she had just been on the Tor and was visiting with some Peruvian teachers; she asked if they could they come in for a quick visit now. We lit up some candles and waited a few minutes for them to arrive. When they did, I was surprised to find the two teachers, an older man with a younger one who was possibly his son, arrived with my next door neighbour!

They came in and spent some time by the shrines. As they stood beside the water their guide asked them if they thought the place was okay, the older man looked at her with his eyes of wisdom shining and did a little dance. ‘Good,’ she said.

I sent a message to my friend in Stroud to say that I would be late bringing her the painting and for the overnight visit that I had planned. I explained that we had some visitors from Peru at the Spring. Later that evening when I arrived at her place she told me that she had been intrigued about a particular statue of a Saint in her local Church. It was of Saint Martin and that day (3rd November) was his Feast Day. When she went to found out more about this Saint she found he was from Peru. She had just got home after saying prayers to St Martin when she got my text!

St. Martin de Porres was born at Lima, Peru, in 1579. His father was a Spanish gentleman and his mother a coloured freed-woman from Panama. At fifteen, he became a lay brother at the Dominican Friary at Lima and spent his whole life there-as a barber, farm laborer, almoner, and infirmarian among other things.

Martin had a great desire to go off to some foreign mission and thus earn the palm of martyrdom. However, since this was not possible, he made a martyr out of his body, devoting himself to ceaseless and severe penances. In turn, God endowed him with many graces and wondrous gifts, such as, aerial flights and bilocation. From – Catholic.org

What amazing synchronicity! In the morning I had spent time with Peruvian visitors at the White Spring, then in the evening I spent time talking about a Peruvian Saint. We visited the Church later that night, where the statue of the Saint stood. It was dark when we arrived so we lit a candle and meditated in the Church for a while.

Although I do not consider myself to be Catholic, I still appreciate the beauty and divinity that can be found in Churches, and the magic of the colourful potent ceremonies. I believe all religions hold a core divinity, and I like to hang out where this can be felt.

I wonder what will unfold from this visit in June. It seems auspicious considering the synchronicity of the last one and I am looking forward to welcoming them again.

Now back to the diary – we have so many bookings coming in as more and more people hear about the White Spring. We will need more helpers to ensure we keep up with them, but first we have a cleansing; there are pools to be cleaned, pipes to be flushed, songs to be sung and sanctifying to do. More about that next time.

The White Spring – Otherworldly Visions

In the weeks following the Imbolc Celebration at The White Spring, the temple felt crisp and fresh.  We had hundreds of visitors from all around the world. All of the keepers commented on how beautiful it was when they opened the temple space for the public.

Later in the week (Friday 10th Feb) I went alone to light a candle for a friend I had known many years ago. He was a great friend who had supported me through a time of crisis as a young mum – and now he had died. It was the day of his funeral and, as I could not attend in person, I went to say my prayers and farewells at the temple space that I hold so dear.

When I arrived, I heard women singing in the sanctuary. This is not unusual, I often hear voices in there; the high notes of feminine song, the deeper resonance of the chanting of monks, the occasional deep growling voice, and even people laughing and splashing in the pool. I knew that there was no-one in the building but myself, even so, I felt compelled to look around for any sign of people.

This time I called out loud, ‘ I can hear you!’ The feeling was playful and I laughed to myself. I let my voice join the choir and sang a song as I lit a candle. I stood alone in the centre of the place and saw something moving in the building. In the shadowy central chamber, behind the huge mirrored surface of the pool, I could see a cowled figure!

‘I can see you!’ I called. The figure appeared to turn its head. I could see no face, though I knew it faced me. I felt quite calm, despite this vision being all too tangible. It turned away again and seemed to sink into the stone wall. Then I heard people splashing in the pool.

I am accustomed to the usual flow of the water and the sound it makes when it hits the surface of the pool. The high claps and the deep booming of the splashes are so familiar. It sounds different when there are people bathing, and I could hear the splashing and laughter as if there were at least two people bathing. Still I knew the building to be empty. I prayed and spoke my farewells, then sang a song of gratitude before leaving the candle lit next to the pool.

The following week sent yet more visions, in fact, I went looking for them. We were at the Spring with a small group during our Wizard Seer weekend. We went to practice ‘seeing in the dark’ and scrying in the central pool. We arrived, but lit no candles. In the Brigid bower the single flame let out just enough light for us to see some of the building, but the rest was in darkness. The exercise was in trust. We would be moving around the building allowing it to reveal to us what it would. I was keeping time and would call everyone back with a gentle ‘Ohm’ sound.

During this part I heard much more than I ‘saw’. Just five minutes in the darkness feels like such a long time, like dreaming, so much more can occur. Images were flitting and floating on the edge of my conciousness, tiny motes of light dancing around. I had moved from the bower, yet could see a huge bright figure – almost as tall as the whole building. Then I saw that it was the reflection of the Brigid flame on the pillar opposite. I could then see the shadows of the branches, tangling and weaving together along the walls. I moved away; deeper into the dark. Again, bright lights danced on the edge of awareness, yet nothing tangible came into my vision.

The sounds were certainly tangible. A single voice, high-pitched, was singing words I could not hear. I could also hear a low throaty sound like a chant. Then a soft ‘Ohm’ sounded. It was like my own voice getting louder and louder. For a moment I thought Max had decided to call us back, though I knew he wouldn’t do that when he knew that I had the intention. Besides, I was sure that he was in a different chamber to the place the sound was coming from. It was coming from the shrine of the King of the World of Faerie. I put it down to some kind of Faery mischief and made the call myself.

Next we gathered and shared our experiences, and then went to the large circular pool in the centre. We only lit tea-lights on the edge of the pool walls to keep the surface dark. Then we sat beside the pool and gazed. We framed a question in our minds so that only images related to our question would come through rather than a flood of random visions.

I was keeping time again so only asked for information relating to a fictional story I am writing about The White Spring. I opened my awareness and sang a song in my head to keep my focus on the time. The words of ‘Song to the Siren’ drifted in and out of my mind.

I could see the reflections of the rest of the group in the water, their real reflections from where they were sitting, and then my eyes drifted to the light reflected from the walls onto the pool. It showed paths that my conciousness could follow down into the pool and backwards then upside down, underneath myself. A big bowl opened up like a void; the surface of the water disappeared and an image – the hare and the fox, chasing and dancing. I saw a tower, its pillars reaching to infinite climes, up and down. A white serpentine dragon uncoiled in my vision. The visions were most certainly connected to my story.

Then I saw people, mostly women – hundreds of them, dressed modestly in middle age style. They were grieving and the vision swum and stirred. I began to feel quite disoriented, and through the smoke swimming around the pools I saw the horses and the hurdles; men tied to them and towed to their death. Such tearing trauma; I wanted to cry.  In my vision tears fall to the water, and a thousand tears turned to a flood.

A small flame seemed to sit beneath the pool a tiny and intense light that grew larger. I felt held – comforted. It grew into a giant sword that burst up out of the water splashing drops all over and filling the place with its immense form. My critical mind came in – in its judgement – what a classic image, the sword coming out of the lake! I laughed at myself. Bringing my conciousness back to the physical, I wondered how long I had been. Had I been singing for three rounds or just one? I had certainly sang some of the words and one or two of the visions had mirrored their sentiments. I called everyone back after singing one more round and found we had been exactly ten minutes, as intended. We all talked about our experiences and found that all of us had received some inspiration in answer to our questions.

Often the White Spring gives people peculiar sounds and sights to ponder. I have only once felt afraid, and when facing that fear, found that it was all okay. Some see and sense things they don’t want to, so they don’t walk towards the fear. Some open up, watch and listen, and find the treasure in that. Each to their own journey, it is as well to listen to your own intuition.

The central pool at the White Spring was built with the intention of a scrying pool. To sit beside the still waters and gaze into the deep well of conciousness is a potent exercise, and one which can reward the seer with profound inspiration. Try it when you visit, see what inspiration the White Spring holds for you! What will you ask?

 

 

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.