Napowrimo 24 – Raising a Temple of Words

Napowrimo24 challenges us to write a poem that features walls, bricks, stones, arches, or the like.

Like the real life sanctuary it refers to, ‘The White Spring, Glastonbury’ It is still in the process of manifestation.

To be continued. This is only the foundation.

Raising a Temple of Stories

Such stories are formed of stone,
Stories of love and of life.
Tales of death and blood and bone.
Substance of peace and strife.

Bestowed by those alive.
Mixed in with the mortar,
Even before the stones rise.
Flowing in the water.

For order and disorder,
Pulses within the land,
The elemental quarters.
Sing in every grain of sand.

In the heart of every man,
And every drop of sweat,
A sonnet in the builder’s hand.
Begotten to beget.

The mason meets the architect.
Cracks are in the quarry,
Building hasn’t started yet,
Already there’s a story.

Unintended oratory,
To lay down with each rock,
Create this place of glory.
Built over beauty – A box.

Many local folk were shocked.
Brutal behaviour.
Chain the waters of chalk.
To be sickness’ saviour.

Corporation reservoir,
For good folk of Glaston,
To rise up from cholera.
Clean water; a bastion.

A building full of contention,
Flowing with water as well,
A dubious intention.
Rising in the white spring swell.

Ancient tales won’t be dispelled.
By architecture’s intellect,
Beauty won’t remain felled;
Divine magic won’t be wrecked.

100 years of neglect,
Won’t lay it all to waste.
Ev’n respect in retrospect,
Will honour sacred place.

Lisa Goodwin – April 2014

 

The White Spring Diary – Beltane Preparations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bright Blessings

Lisa

The White Spring Diary – Glastonbury 2012 – Unity and Diversity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessings x

The White Spring – Lost Knights and Naked Ladies

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

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

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

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

This is spot on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the test.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brightest Blessings

The White Spring – The Wounded Masculine and Seeking Balance

We had beautifully lit the well house with candles and tea-lights by the time a large group of Spanish people arrived at 7.30pm on a cool March evening. I met the teacher outside where she gave me a gift and introduced us to the group. Max and I stood by the door ready to welcome them in and the group gathered all around. The English-speaking teacher talked to them about the White Spring then paused for every word to be translated into Spanish.

First she spoke of ‘The Wounded Masculine,’ and told them that, for a time, the site had been dominated by this vibration. Other people have told me that they felt the same.

Before the sanctuary was renovated, there were often drunken and confrontational males at the site. Some people still associate the place with that kind of energy and, as a consequence, they avoid visiting. I am told that in the past, years before I moved to Glastonbury, this was a serious problem. There would be fights, arguments and cars could be damaged.

Since we moved here and joined the Spring in 2007, we have had people arrive for healing who appear to be quite damaged. Sometimes they hang around for a while and this can become quite intimidating, especially if they become confrontational when asked to respect other visitors. Occasionally there are drunken people who don’t really monitor their own behaviour, and although we can encourage them to be respectful when we are there, we cannot be there 24/7. So when the place is closed there is little we can do about it. So I can see why people associate this place with the archetype of the ‘wounded masculine’

We are quite tolerant, have had infinite patience with some individuals, and understand that if people have the space they need to heal, then they receive the cleansing they need from the place. So we extend our compassion and avoid moving people on unless they are being abusive to others. This has meant that we sometimes get flack and criticism from both ‘sensitive visitors’ who feel we are not doing enough to stop this kind of thing, and the people who want to behave as they want to without any consideration of others. Between a rock and a hard place is a cliché that comes to mind.

I can see where the teacher who had brought the group had got this idea of the ‘Wounded Masculine’ archetype from and there was some truth in it. I must remark that this dynamic is not exclusive to men and we have had a few women also being confrontational.

We are in a challenging situation. Max and I would rather talk to people who have been causing problems than let others in the team risk confrontation, so I guess we are seen as the rule makers. This means that some people will take against us as symbols of authority. Though, always we find that the more love we put into the place the more it is reflected back, and as a consequence, there has been less and less trouble over the years.

The teacher went on to say that Max and I were Guardians of the place and told them how we were responsible for restoring balance to this sacred space, how we care for the Spring through our love of the waters and of the land.

Although I could resonate with what she said and agreed somewhat. I did not feel that Max and I were wholly responsible for the shift that had happened there. We were merely a part of the puzzle that formed the bigger picture. Neither did I feel I could take on the title of Guardian. The White Spring has its own natural Guardians. We are just keepers of the space, current custodians as transient as the water, yet here right now; taking care of it.

The group all had been told to bring a candle with them for the White Spring. They had thought it was to help them see in the darkness of the cave-like building. Their teacher, however, had other ideas. She told them to hand their candles to us so that they can lend their light to the transformation that is happening here. It was a beautiful gesture. They all filed through the doorway, handing over their candles with a blessing. Once they were all in, we went to the Tor to look at the stars; it was a wonderful and clear evening and we stayed there star-gazing for an hour before going back to lock up the well house.

Now this comment that the teacher made about restoring balance had jarred with me and I continued to think about it. Yes there have been improvements at the White Spring, there are less incidents or expressions of the ‘ Wounded Masculine’ … and the ‘Wounded Feminine’ for that matter.

Is it possible that because men and women behave differently when they feel wounded that the expression is more obvious in the masculine? Perhaps there are just wounded people seeking balance?

So, can this elusive balance be found? Will it fix the broken bits of us and move us to a place beyond the wounding? I wonder.

As equinox approached, I looked to the places where it may be found … in myself, in nature, in others and in my environment. I found harmony, duality, parity, proportion, symmetry … projections and reflections of equilibrium. Balance itself seemed to be a transient thing. It can mark a moment in time, like the Equinox where day and night are the same, but it is fleeting. Everything is in flux – moving, growing, changing. The one constant we can rely on is change. So where is this balance and why do we seek it? Does it not mean stagnation … for if we did achieve and manage to maintain perfect balance, where would the impulse for movement come from? Scales with the same weight on each side, remain still, movement only occurs when we add or remove something from either side.

We met in the courtyard on the day of the Vernal Equinox to mark the turning of the season. It was a beautiful gathering and there was a large group there. We shared stories and poems and thoughts about the world.

I talked about this elusive balance. I suggested that it was a myth. This transient, ever flowing dance of life … always in flux, ever-changing. This reveals a paradox that I have often felt in the past, when the times and tides of Equinoxes seem to reflect to me where I am so out of balance. I proposed that perhaps instead of seeking balance, we seek to go with the flow. To dance on the ebbs and tides of life, moving through our wounded places(masculine or feminine), to a place where harmony is reached. A sacred synergy of life flowing together, not seeking or grasping an illusory concept, simply surrendering to the flow.

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.’

 

 

The White Spring – on blocked drains and a Peruvian Saint

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The White Spring – 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 – 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