Going Off Script: Bealltaine Rites, May 2016

This is… Perfect. Great ritual comes from the heart– and it’s a *conversation,* not a script.

Tree of Many Feathers

Last evening, I joined friends around a fire for the Rites of Bealltaine led by Father Powl. It was quite the party, in the best of Druidic traditions. Powl’s rites of spring, cast in the image of the old rites, have plenty of offerings to the patron gods/goddesses of his order, the fey, and the spirits of the natural world. And, too, naked and gorgeous men jumping the fire, recognitions of new members of his grove, a good deal of carousing, bawdy jokes, and ribaldry. . .  all the best of human shenanigans which make my naughty heart so happy.

Each year, spring rites generally remind me of why I am on the “pagan” path. But, Powl’s rites are truly special and remind me of why I’m on the particular path that I have now chosen. I leave these rites feeling so much love for a good sacred circle. The best circles are. . . not just people…

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A Year In Albion

Grey sky, the green hills reflected in the still waters of the lake
Llyn Tegid Stood Still

One day, it came into my mind and heart to go to the land of my ancestors…

I made that first trip when I turned 50. Chance–or was it synchronicity–put my arrival the day of the Anderida Autumn Camp.  I got off the plane and onto a train to Lewes, then cabbed it to Camp. I knew no one, had barely started the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids (OBOD) course, but I knew this was where I needed to be. The Camp was experiential, and the story we were to be working with was the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi. It was a story I thought I knew well. I left that camp a changed person. So many new friends, the welcome of the folk of Anderida should be legendary around the world. I arrived an American stranger, dragging a bike trailer of camping gear, and within the hour I had a place to camp, a cup of tea (I think) and was sitting in a circle of new friends. It was a wonderful introduction to a weekend of music, magic, and deep spiritual work. When I left, I no longer knew my own last name. It had been gently taken from me by the Gods, as had my previous identity. I was still myself, but no longer the woman warrior I had been, I had been reborn a Bard.

At Anderida, I was invited to the Anglesey Druid Order’s Cauldron Camp. Kristoffer Hughes, the Chief of the Order, had come down to give some mindblowing talks on the Fourth Branch. A native speaker of Welsh, he very kindly opened my eyes to the deeper meaning of that tale, and I quite happily followed him north at the end of a month of nonstop discovery. Their camp, coincidentally, was held on the last weekend of my trip.

Based on Kristoffer’s book, From The Cauldron Born, the work of that camp was to brew the Awen. I’m slow sometimes. I booked that camp partly because I had learned so much in one weekend and wanted more, and partly because I wanted to experience as much of Druidry in the land it had sprung from as I could. For all I knew, this would be my only trip there. I didn’t realize that I’d not only booked myself into a camp where we would be working with the myth of Taliesin and Cerridwen, but we’d be doing it on the very shores of the lake where the myth had taken place. I got chills when I first realized where I was. Then I discovered that the work would go on for the next year. I had choices, I could of course have just gone to the camp and gone home. I didn’t have to physically stir the potion and go out in the woods to find the ingredients each month. Nor did I have to find a way to come back the following year to finish the work.

I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I learned so much! Many of the ingredients don’t grow in California. Some are here as exotics, but I had to find equivalents for quite a few and doing that work brought me closer to this biome I grew up in. Just coming back after a month away showed me my home in a new way. I’ve gone on to the OBOD course and now, on the verge of completing it, I feel called to learn the language of Druidry in the biome in which it was created. Whether Druidry was only a product of the cultures of Albion or not is immaterial to this particular task. The Druid Revival happened in Albion, and the Druid Orders who teach today are largely based in Albion and Ireland. Their teachings, their pantheons are all part of this particular biome. While it is perfectly acceptable and absolutely possible to practice Druidry in any part of the world, I am called to go back to the source, to spend an entire turning of the seasons in the biome Druidry’s newest incarnation was born in.

The website, and this blog are the start. I don’t yet know how it will happen–a year off is a difficult thing to swing for a lower echelon American worker in these uncertain times, but I can have a job and a dream, or I can just have a job. And I’ll be going back to that camp on the shores of Llyn Tegid in September. This makes trip number three. For a person who didn’t know how to swing even one trip, that’s a good start, I think.