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 – 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 I

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Icicles at the White Spring

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bright Blessings

Lisa

Seasonal Ritual for Imbolc

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What are your Imbolc wishes and intentions?

Imbolc; Nature is on the rampage!

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

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

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

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

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