A Shanty for the Pirates of Dead Island UK

Taken an oath under maritime law?
Heave ho, there’s no need to frown
They’ll make you pull ropes til your fingers are raw
Heave ho, and tie the men down

The HMRC, is UK PLC
Heave ho, they tax the whole town
Their off shore accounts save the whole company
Heave ho, they keep the costs down

Now remain in the dock, and give up your berth
Heave ho, and sign your name, clown
They”ll pick up the salvage to get what you’re worth
Heave ho and bring the slaves down

1666, lost ewer the sea
Heave ho, they burned the town down
They’ve stolen your ship by Admiralty
Heave ho, they said you were drowned

You are legally dead, by Cestui Que Vie
Heave ho, can’t you read MRS BROWN?
They’re safe in their bloodline; the right ancestry
Heave ho, they wear the right gowns

You chose to agree, you ‘orrible lot
Heave ho, can’t find common ground
and by your agreement you got what you got
Heave ho, you gave up your crown.

So, tie the men, bring the men, hold the men down!

Maritime Law – The common Law with the addition of 80,000 made up Acts and Policies that humans were fooled into agreeing to over a long period of time by an elite few. The Cestui Que Vie Trust Act of 1666 was passed during the Great Fire of London. It declared everyone legally dead. The assets were put into a trust and are still held as salvage by the state.

Grave stones have names in capital letters because they are legally dead. You do not own property, you only think you do. Read your title deed carefully, it says that the state reserves all its rights.

Are you dead? Yes, which is why your name is spelt in block capitals on all legal documents.

http://www.napowrimo.net/ Day 4

White Spring Diary – Merlin – Part 1

The excitement began to build as soon as I had word that a VortexHealing teacher of ours would be in town for two weeks. I  invited him to the White Spring and he said he would like to come so we arranged a day for his visit. He told me that he would see if ‘Merlin’ … (as arising within VortexHealing) has a gift for the sacred space. I was also very interested in his impression of the place.  I trust the magical integrity of my teachers and could feel that this visit would be of such benefit to the White Spring.

To explain, here are some words from the VortexHealing website.

‘VortexHealing® is a Divine healing art and path for awakening. It is designed to transform the roots of emotional consciousness,
heal the physical body, and awaken freedom within the human heart.
This is the Merlin lineage.’

‘It [The Merlin lineage] is the historical line of teachers and students that have learned VortexHealing from the Divine Expression that calls itself Merlin. (The Merlin that is associated with King Arthur was not this Divine Expression but one of the human teachers of the Merlin lineage.) All Divine Expressions bring into manifestation a unique quality of the Divine. Merlin brings in the quality of magical transformation. Merlin’s healing art, VortexHealing, transforms emotional conditioning, transforms physicality and transforms ego-identity. The movement of that transformation is through the Divine magic of Merlin’s energy and consciousness. The nature of that movement is the magical awakening of conditioned consciousness to its true nature and expression.’

Read more at www.vortexhealing.org

The first time my work with the White Spring and VortexHealing came together was in September 2007 in London, when Max and I attended an Intensive Earthshift Class. Around 140 Vortex Students and 3 teachers had gathered in a hotel next to Hyde Park where we did some very intense energy work. We did a variety of things and for much of the time we had the help of the Angelic realm.

Some of the work we did together had the intention to clear the earth of negative energies that could be used as a source of power for black magic. This dense ‘black magic’ energy had accumulated on the planet through the intentional use of magical ritual, torturous death, and events involving pain and deep trauma. I got the sense that this energy had been created in history (maybe even in some places in the world it was still being created) and that the sources of power were kind of ‘held’ in pockets of energy in the land that could be drawn from to support magical practice with ill intent.

When I surrendered to the process, my consciousness was drawn directly to the White Spring, and more specifically beneath the Tor. If I could put it into words, I would say it was something like unblocking a huge plug hole. Like when the hair blocks up the flow in a bath so that what needs to shift through cannot drain away naturally. As if there was, at least in one time through history, such dense energy moving through the location of the Tor that it had stuck and it was still there. I breathed, along with the rest of the class, and followed the instructions we were given. When it unblocked I felt this huge rush of energy, it was like pulling out the hair so the dirty water could now flow away leaving room for fresh clear flow. The negative energy was now able to drain away from the physical locations.

Now, of course this is just my perception, and my feeble attempt to put the indescribable into words. I recognise the work that has been done by many others and has helped to put this right, on many levels; physically, spiritually, magically and energetically.

After this intense weekend we returned to the White Spring to see if there was anything different. As soon as I walked in I saw that someone had left a figure of an angel as an offering. Much of what we had done in London had involved the Angelic realm, so I was delighted to be greeted by a beautiful Angelic image. The whole place felt much clearer and fresh, confirming what I had felt at a distance; it even seemed lighter in there. I mean the physical light as well as the uplifting feeling. This all happened before the renovation of the White Spring, so it was a very different place to what you see now. There were hidden areas, low ceilings, dark corners, little lights (that often didn’t work because it was so wet). It was beautiful, yet it was very old and in a state of entropy. The renovation began the following year (September 2008) and continued at a pace until we built the pools that are seen there now.(Pools completed 1st May 2009)

In the years that followed, through my interest in local history and quite a bit of synchronicity, I found that there was in fact a ritual murder right on the top of Glastonbury Tor! In 1539, Richard Whiting, the Last Abbot of Glastonbury and two of his companions were hung drawn and quartered, I believe, with the very intent of creating such a ‘pocket of negative energy’ beneath the Tor that could be (and indeed has been) used for the purposes of black magic.

The story and mystery of the Last Abbot of Glastonbury is easily found online. Max and I first found out about it when we got an invitation to attend a remembrance service in the Abbey for Richard Whiting and his companions. Although it was a Catholic service and neither of us are Catholic, we both felt compelled to go, and so we did … but that’s another story.

For now, all we need to know is that there is no longer any expression of negative energy that can be used for black magic at or around the site of Glastonbury Tor. I have now been reliably informed by Anthony (after his visit) that this is the case.

So that’s where it started. Ever since arriving here in Glastonbury, and feeling so ‘at home’ at the Spring, this feeling of being supported and guided by the Divine magic of Merlin at the White Spring has been a constant. So I am sure you can understand why I was so excited to have a teacher of the Merlin Lineage be physically present in the building, and to think of what Merlin might do with that.

Read Merlin – part 2 to find out what happened

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 – Deep Cleansing in a Hall of Mirrors

Each week the White Spring is sanctified. Incense is burned and powerful prayer is spoken; that this place be for the good of all who pass through. Sometimes I sing a song that helps to clear the atmosphere, it is always a profound feeling when I take part in this ceremony.

Every 6 weeks the pools are emptied and cleaned, the pipes are flushed through and the floor of the whole building gets washed. When both tasks are done together, it is a very powerful process.

It is wonderful to let people come in and see what we do when we cleanse the place, so we left the doors open. We let people know that the building would soon flood, advising them of the best place to stand. Just before we pulled the plug we had a surprise visit from a keeper who moved away a few years ago; before the pools were built. She sang a beautiful and energetic song whilst we went about cleaning the pools.

When the plug is taken out a torrent of water rushes from the healing pools, flooding first the Brigid bower, then the central chamber in front of the central pool, and then right round to the shrine of The King of the World of Faery. We follow with brooms, pushing the water into all of the corners and sweeping out any loose leaves or twigs. Once we have swept everywhere, Max climbs into the empty pools to clear out any silt. He often finds coins and crystals, as well as some more unusual offerings. These are usually gathered and placed either on the seasonal altar, or outside in the garden, with all respect to the offering or prayer of which it might have formed part.

I took some of these crystals outside and a young boy, of about 10yrs, was reminding his mother of the last time they had visited and he had found a crystal in the garden. I asked if he likes crystals and he told me that he has lots of crystals that he uses for different things. So I told him where the crystals I was holding had come from and that if he wanted one he could choose one. He was elated. He took a piece of quartz crystal, washed it under the water and put it in his own water bottle to charge the water. It was lovely to see him look after the crystal so well and see his delight.

I went back inside the building and lit some frankincense to clear and sanctify. This is a spiritual blessing that takes on a form of its own in accordance to what the building seems to require. I sang to each of the directions and at each shrine, asking that they lend their energy to the intent that this place be for the good of all who pass through here. That these spirits guard, guide and protect, and that this place be sanctified so it may reflect true sanctuary and fulfill its sacred purpose.

I went to the back chamber that is not easily accessed beyond the pool. This is a place where no candles are lit, we keep it dark and separate. Like the holiest of holies in a sanctuary. The depth of the place can often be felt here and it is good for deep inner ritual. I opened up my voice and sang. This opening the voice and allowing the spirit to sing through is an amazing thing to do. It calls to mind the Scandinavian shaman women who would sing enchantments to the land and spirit of place as part of their magical practice. It is a practice that seems to take me to a place ‘other than’. A feeling impossible to put into words, but which has the practical impact of not really being fully aware of the people around me.

The song started gently and sweetly. Facing the back wall, I surrendered to it. Other voices joined in, people singing and intoning with me, it felt perfect, as if their voices were floating in and lending their power to the song. Then the sounds became loud and discordant – something was going on and I sensed a huge shift of some kind. It felt like hard work, almost using the voice to pull something through.The other singers in the building matched the pitch and intensity of the sound. Then it settled again to a soft and gentle tone.

I was heady with incense and from the singing when I climbed up and walked through the central pool, now empty of water. Max had finished clearing the healing pools and had put the plug back in so the pools would now refill with lovely fresh water.

On the next afternoon, our friend, a previous keeper of the Wellhouse, came early to bathe. She was so moved by the experience. Although she had not seen the pools, she had dreamed of bathing here and it evoked strong emotions for her, and an acknowledgement of how much she had grown in the last few years. It was a profound healing moment. I was, yet again, touched by the impact that this place has on people.

Often visitors arrive as if they are carrying a burden, and leave with a sparkle. It is inspirational and uplifting, it is dark and foreboding. It is powerful and intense, it is gentle and peaceful. It is a Temple of Life, and as such, it changes in aspect frequently. Most people pass through and see just one or two aspects, but when you are here often, you see the shifts in energy, the tides of change through the seasons and you feel the reflective nature of the place.

Very occasionally, people see something in the place that they don’t like – perhaps the singing is not to their liking, or they are offended by the No Photography rules, or a spliff is passed in the garden; maybe a challenging visitor is causing seeming disharmony, or is drunk and harrasing people. I feel saddened when this happens, and more-so if they allow that to put them off visiting again, because I know if they did, they would most likely find a very different vibration.

Myself and Max have inadvertently upset a few folk who have misunderstood our intentions in this place, or have a different idea on how it should be operated. This is difficult to manage sometimes – yet I know I have integrity, so I just keep doing what I feel to be right, following my heart, being guided by the Spirit of place. I remind myself, I work for the White Spring, not any one person.

The keepers all play their own part, giving their time and energy to the place. All part of the ‘Spirit of The White Spring’, we maintain the temple and make it available to others; For the Love of It … whatever ‘It’ may be. We all put our love into it – and over the years more and more of that is reflected back in the nature of the place. The dedication that the team put in to looking after this place can be felt and seen and that has created a transformation. Not just in the physical look of the building, but also reflected in it’s very essence.

I hope you are enjoying these candid tales from the temple. I am really getting a lot from the process of writing it all down, so thank you for reading. Next time, I will be exploring the concepts of ‘the wounded masculine’ and ‘seeking balance.’

 

 

Glastonbury Beltane Celebration

Mayday/Beltane gathering – Tuesday May 1st – plans are afoot for procession and fun frivolities in town and out on the land x
Meeting tonight ( Wednesday 21st March) at the Assembly Rooms. All welcome! Please get involved if you can x

Other events ….

Saturday April 28th Beltane firewalk
Lunar Beltane – 5th May we gather at the White spring ‘for the love of it’ x Contact me for more details.

I suspect there will be many more events between those times – If you have an event in Glastonbury during this season, you can send them to me if you wish – then if funding becomes available, someone will put them into a program that will go out in town in the last week of April – if not, I will list them on the Facebook group (Glastonbury Community Beltane) and our website x

Please pass the word on x
Blessings
Lisa

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.

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.