Off Away!

Heading West again this weekend to visit with TSW and Shepherdess… superb. This will a pretty interesting visit, as it’s social but also heavily business-focused. Not to titillate your tastebuds too much!

We could certainly do with some time off. I spent all my working week reeling from pillar to post, this week; neither comfortable nor stress-free. And the neighbours at our new little house seem to do everything except sleep at night-time. I counted three separate entries and exits (slammed doors, revving cars, shouting into mobiles) between 2.30am and 4.30am. I’m a really light sleeper - most of the time I’m not technically ‘asleep’ as I still have the ears-on-elastic thing from having a baby. Added to which, new houses are built of matchwood and pencil shavings, so if you cough it sounds like a bomb dropping.

I will be online, try and keep me away.

So we leave the tatty suburban street of the hometown and head out into the golden misty West… cue music! And someone promised us Beef Wellington and Tiramisu, too. Talk about Avalon…

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Well, there’s no real words to describe the excellence and sumptuous wonderfulness of this weekend. We arrived stressed, after hitting the back of the 50-mile tailback from Cribbs Causeway to Cornwall. After a protracted tussle with the map and a cross-country meander, we crossed the line into Somerset. There’s an indescribable peace and contentment that I feel when I enter this county - I’ve never lived here, and have no family connection. It’s green, bucolic, rich and fertile, with deep hollows between the hills that hide the most beautiful villages in England. The pink and gold Hamstone that they use to build with here contrasts with the wisteria, parthenocissus, clematis and greenness of the gardens and glows in the shallow evening light that pours across the fields. It’s a promised land, a dream. I love it to distraction.

We dropped straight into easy banter and gathering around the kitchen table we got on with doing the dinner, lubricating the proceedings with blackcurrant vodka, and cooking up a storm. Afternoon shaded into evening as we ate the fruits of our labours and then kicked back with vats of wine for a gossip and a giggle, and then a dance!

TSW’s brow lightened after a few jars; her back has been giving her untold grief and agony. It was lovely to see the wine doing its work and enabling her to put me royally through my paces as a belly dancer - she looked great, but I looked like a cat on hot bricks although I really got the feel for the music - I’d love to have another shot at this.

We settled to bed fairly late and I was hammered, but pleasantly - no hangover whatsoever in the morning and I slept like a log, as did Mr GW. Awakened slowly by the contented sotto voce cluckings and meanderings of the local chickens. Freshly made and delightful coffee, local fresh-squeezed bramley apple juice, and a heritage breakfast of award winning sausages and bacon, local bread and free-range scrambled eggs followed. This is food the way it’s supposed to be produced. From the area, personally chosen, carefully produced, lovingly cooked and greedily devoured!

TSW took us on a tour of the local villages - cue much drooling from me - and a visit to a cider mill. Wonderful stoneware flagons of local cider and some beeswax candles that smell of honey, somnolent sluggishness and the peace of bees. 

We left, comforted and cheered on our way, like we were stepping out of a magic circle but somehow retaining the virtue of it on our drive north. Such a lot has been decided this weekend, such a lot of issues resolved. I have to thank my friends; they are responsible for all the good things that have been achieved - and they cook a mean Welly to boot!

Technological Gnorls

What do you do if your umbilicus to the Net gets cut?

We have had to move out of our lovely burrow recently to enable a large insurance repair to take place; the details are both sordid and disgusting but suffice to say there’s ‘dirty water’ where it should not be. Three months in the future we should be able to move home; until then, the family is ‘on vacation’ at a lovely little rented place at the top of the town!

The problem is there’s no phone line, because we can’t have one fitted for less than a year (thanks to the jobsworths at BT) and now I’m a song without a voice. Blogging at lunchbreak and when I hit the office early won’t do the job!! I think I have a solution to the problem, involving the boss’s third best laptop and a PCMIA pay as you go card.

It raises an interesting question about communication; I didn’t realise until I faced the prospect of disconnection how much of my life is lived in the Net. Where would I be without my network of bloggers and my forums to anchor me down? Where would I meet my compatriots in order to plan our strategems and look forward to future enjoyments? How would I even keep up with my correspondence? Paper, telephone, all hopelessly outmoded and worse than useless for this sort of work.

One of the things I love so much about conducting my pagan life on the net is that there’s no barrier to the confluence of ideas. It’s like a roomful of likeminded people. Actually, it’s better than that, because everyone’s got room to sit down, there’s enough air, drinks when you need them and there’s an automatic record of what was said.

So I will be here; by hook, crook or broom, I will not stray far. There’s too much exciting stuff going on for me to want to be away from it for a single day.

The Regency - Ken Rees

Despite the sideshow that evolved from and because of the above lecture, the point of the afternoon hasn’t passed me by, nor anyone else who was there, I suspect. I’m going to try and give an overview of the topic. I should say at this point that Ken Rees handed out reference materials, upon which I draw and which I will acknowledge.

As I mentioned in my previous post, Rees was keen to stress his academic approach. I took this to mean as opposed to  a purely spiritual or personally interested approach, although Rees is a pagan and clearly got a lot out of The Regency in a spiritual sense.

The Regency rose out of the Clan of Tubal-Cain and the Royal Windsor Cuveen, after the death of Robert Cochrane in 1966. The 1734 group was another off-shoot. The word ‘Regency’ can be seen to have several possible meanings. One, it may be a reference to the son of Robert Cochrane, and the group’s determination to rule in his stead until he reached his majority. Two, it could refer to the struggle within each member to exchange the present self, by dint of effort, for the ‘regent-in-waiting’ or the higher self.  The third and perhaps most controversial meaning is that of the rulers in stead of the True King, in this case Arthur, who will rise to rule England once again; of which more later.

The Regency are characterised by Rees as ‘neo-pagan’ to differentiate them from other pagan groups, and especially from Wicca. Wicca has some superficial similarities to The Regency’s operations, for example the worship of a Goddess and God, and observance of a round of yearly festivals, but in fact The Regency appears remarkably different on examination.

It was a largely oral tradition, for one thing; for another, the festivals celebrated throughout the year depended upon The Reading of the Festivals of the Year, which took place about a month prior to Yule (Rees 2008). The festival of the year were then subdivided into those for the Goddess (Candlemas, May Eve, Lammas and Hallowe’en) and those for the Gods (plural) (Yule, Twelfth Night, Spring Equinox, May Eve, Midsummer, Autumn Equinox and Hallowe’en). Yule was the beginning of the year and the end; the 23rd December was called ‘The Dead of the Year’ and a fast was observed (Rees 2008). 

You will have noted the reference to Gods plural; on the night of 23rd December the Star Child - called Robin - was born and the year cycle began. At midsummer, Robin died after rejection by the Goddess, and was reborn as a mature man, winning feats of valour and along with victory the hand of the Goddess in marriage.

(There is a great deal of detail to the lecture material passed out by Rees; while I would like to post it in its entirety I feel I cannot. It’s very interesting stuff, but a summary will have to do! So I return now to my lecture notes.)

These premises can be seen to differ in wide and interesting ways from the prevalent Wiccan traditions of the time. Gardnerian Wicca was perhaps a little more restrained, in the closet, elusive; Alexandrian Wicca was patently none of these things! From 1966 onwards, The Regency met regularly, only meeting inside for the first year and then taking all operations out of doors, primarily into one tract of woodland in North London. From the 1970’s it appears that just about everyone who was anyone in the pagan world used to show up for meetings. The circle was open, and you could introduce a friend. In fact, Rees told us he even took students along with him, so there was no hint of exclusivity or invisibility about this group.  For the time, I think this is remarkable.

From 1974 onwards, the rituals became much less formal, and would include a period of meditation; the whole of the wood was used, with movement between special trees, sacred groves and so forth. Women and men were separated for some of the time to engage in Women’s and Men’s Mysteries. Rees said he had no idea what the women got up to, except sometimes he heard them screaming (!) but one of his tests as a man, to vie for the hand of the Goddess, was to scrunch holly leaves in his bare palm. Ouch! 

Rees was never a member of the Inner Circle, which clearly existed. Ron White, later venerated along with George Winter as a cornerstone of The Regency, had sought to take the group along slightly darker and arguably slightly murky paths; in 1967 he called a moot at which he demanded an oath of allegiance to the express intention to restore Arthur’s England - one of the tenets was to disbar all those of black heritage, Europeans and Jews from membership. Only two out of the assembled party agreed to take the oath, and Ruth Wilson Owen threatened him with dismissal for such an act.

What makes anyone muddy the water in this frankly naive way? I think this was the one great unanswered question in the lecture, and a point on which I’d be interested to learn more. The conflation of Arthur’s England with a lowest-common-denominator racist attitude by Ron White seems to have done him no favours. Did The Regency feel it needed to make this point? From the evidence presented, it would appear White was acting alone. 

These points aside, these is an interesting mismatch between Robin and Arthur as characters; Rees made the case that Robin is more closely associated with the Lionheart, Richard III, and not Richard I. He finds the mythological construct unconvincing. However, as archetypes these two figure might work better.

In all, The Regency seemed to be ahead of its time. There were no oaths, similar to the new forms of Solitary and Eclectic Wicca. There were no fees to join, no secrecy and no grades. Tied to the spirit of the country that spawned it, The Regency made much of its sense of place, of worship using native figures, symbology and materials, and seems a very creative and, despite its perhaps backward-looking attitude to female equality, a very inclusive group.

A Perfect Weekend

To Somerset, to visit dear friends S and K, who welcomed me in, and bade me be at home. Nothing could have pleased me more!

Saturday was gorgeous; a visit to Glastonbury made me laugh at some of the more eclectic types wandering about, but there but for the grace of the Goddess…. nearly bought a fake flower and ribbon chaplet but managed to restrain myself when I saw the price!

S took me to the Chalice Well Garden - amazingly beautiful.  Here’s a few pictures which may or may not do justice to the orderly and well-stocked state of the garden, which could best be described as being of a sumptuous simplicity. If only I could get mine to look like this!

The collonade was simply amazing. A calming and centring entry to the garden proper.

The pool was a gorgeous rill, across odd-shaped pans, and the noise was indescribably soothing and calming. The water runs all the way from the top of the garden, in the well proper, to the foot. The energy likewise flows down the hill and away across the plain. Quite the most lovely place I’ve been this year.

… and here’s the well itself. We forgot ribbons; but I was able to cobble an offering together. I felt accepted, and the strength and peace the visit gave me has lasted.

We had a superb dinner out on the Saturday night - two druids, myself, S and K: between the five of us we cleared the restaurant. Too funny. Drank a skinful, retired extremely pissed at 1.30am and not a trace of hangover in the morning - even better!

The place in which my friends live is so soft, so welcoming, so much the opposite of harsh and unfriendly. It’s a world within a world, totally isolated and approachable only by single-track lanes. It’s like a magical hideaway.

I don’t know how to say how much this weekend has meant to me; the gifts, the cheer, the encouragement; rare people and a rare place; perfection.

 

Beltaine

Loreena McKennitt- Huron ‘Beltane’ Fire Dance

As a symbol of hope, of growth for the future, nothing beats Beltaine. The fires of renewal will burn, and the Goddess and the God will meet in the wildwood and become one.

I will be praising Them, and making offerings, tonight. Red thread on the Rowan tree, milk and cakes below, a small fire with prayers for those who have troubles, and wishes for the future twisting up from the bowl in the smoke and sparks to meet with the Moon above.

I’m posting this uplifting and purposeful piece of music after being inspired to do so by beweaver. This should get us in the mood! Blessings to all on this great day in the year.

Wonderful Gift

During my visit to Somerset, S gave me possibly the best present any witch can give another… a cloak. Navy blue fleece, trimmed in black, with a deep hood. It reminds me of the dark night’s sky, and to that end I’m planning some embellishment!

It’s at least 6 inches too long, so I’m going to take it up, and embroider a clasp panel to go onto the neck. Instead of a catch, it has a solid panel of material,  which goes round your neck. Perfect for a 4″ x 6″ embroidery panel. And then, the back!!

I have no idea what should go here… except it will be silver, and that it’s waay beyond my capabilities as a seamstress to do the work. Planning and, I hope, Divine Inspiration to follow! Mercian, here we come!

Mercian Tickets!!

Thank the Goddess, mine arrived yesterday!

The Mercian Gathering is a three day pagan camp and moot run by the Hearth of Arianrhod; luckily for me it’s within 2 hours drive and I can’t wait for it. A whole weekend under canvas, eating rubbish and doing witchy things with my witchy friends and colleagues. Stamping about in boots and drinking mead and dancing, drumming, praying and learning. Buying too much on the wonderful craft stalls. Getting Reiki done. Having my face painted and acting like an eight-year old.

It’s a wonderful chance to meet new people and to relax. And believe me, people, I need to relax. Those that know me say it’s my worst feature, my lack of calm.

Well, we must wait till September; but there’s a load of wonderful things happening before that. I would like to make Mercian 2008 the pinnacle of a really good witch-year for me. I’ve earned it!

Ludlow 2008

The tickets have arrived, and I look forward to the trip; not just for the speakers and the possibility of buying (yet more) books, but for the Merry Meet! PiedPiper, Arnametia and myself are going together, and there’s a good chance that LB and ST, not to mention H! will be present from WW. A real moot.

Ludlow is such a beautiful town as well; the last time we went to the Esoteric Fair the sunshine was stingingly hot, really stunning, and we wandered about the marketplace looking at all the lovely things for sale.

Connections

This year is becoming all about connecting - what did E M Forster say? ‘…only connect’? If you only connect, anything seems possible. It doens’t actually matter if things are impossible; that they should seem possible is half the battle.

Connecting with empathetic minds and spirits; particularly. 2007-8 so far has been all about this. Now, it’s taking off again. A raft of good talks, moots, gatherings and ceremonies. The latest is Professor Ronald Hutton speaking on the Pagan Religions of the Ancient British Isles at Dillington House. Pre-eminent British scholar for a half day’s lecture for £10. Amazing.

I’ve been asked to join a close circle; I have had the excellent good fortune to meet and make friends with two very good Wicca cohorts and we are planning all sorts of trips including WitchFest International; the WW gang are all coming to the Ludlow Esoteric Book Fair and then there’s Mercian 2008!

Not to mention that I’ve found the most excellent pagan Bed  & Breakfast place close by - just the thing for a bit of holistic R & R - they feature champagne in the hot tub looking at the stars, in house complementary therapies and resident ghosts! That plus a cooked breakfast must be enough for anyone.

Blessed, blessed, blessed is what I am.

Peaceful Power

Our ritual was calm, short, and brought us both great peace and contentment. I felt a weight lift as I offered up my shortcomings to be taken away with the rising sun, and felt strengthened and felt new hope gather in me for the year to come.

Both of us agreed that we experienced comfort and a great deal of latent power in our simple ceremony. I felt closer to my friend, happy, and I look forward to other rituals we plan with great anticipation.

This was our altar, largely improvised; greenery from the garden, candles and ribbons, fruit and flowers, and either side the prayer string we’d made as our Yule projects. Mine is unfinished, as I wasn’t sure of the sequencing and needed a second opinion - this was favourable! So I re-string tomorrow on heavyweight fishing line.

I used amethyst, fluorite, rose quartz and a silver amulet I bought in Ibiza this summer, which immediately says ‘Goddess’ to me - looks like a woman and her womb. The different sized beads are to ensure that I can pray the string with my eyes closed. I can’t wait to use it.

This was the start of a fruitful and spiritual year - I can feel it.