Zen Druidry

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Reblogged from Philip Carr-Gomm's Weblog:

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ZEN DRUIDRY – WAKING TO THE NATURAL WORLD by JOANNA VAN DER HOEVEN: A REVIEW

The sign of a mature, cultured person is that they can mix well in a wide variety of social settings and can contribute to, and benefit from, interactions with many different kinds of people. So it is, one might say, with religion and spirituality, and by this criterion Druidry is a very mature and sophisticated path indeed.

Read more… 726 more words

Philip Carr-Gomm's review of my latest book, Zen Druidry - many thanks Philip! x

Druidry – What is Awen?

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In Druidry, we learn often hear the word, awen, being used, but what exactly is awen?   Loosely translated from Welsh, it means flowing spirit, or flowing inspiration.  Awake to our own energy, and stretching out towards the energy of nature around us, we begin to see just what awen is.  It is an opening of one’s self, of one’s spirit or soul, in order to truly and very deeply see.  When we are open, we can receive that divine gift, inspiration that flows, whether it is from deity, nature, or whatever it is that you choose to focus on.

For awen to exist, there must be relationship.  We cannot be inspired unless we are open, and we cannot be open unless we have established a relationship, whether that is with the thunder, the blackbird or a god.  It is cyclical in nature; we open and give of ourselves and in doing so we receive, and vice versa.  Letting go, releasing into that flow of awen allows it to flow ever more freely, and we find ourselves inspired not only in fits and bursts of enlightenment or inspiration, but all the time, carrying that essence of connection and wonder with us at all times.  There is, of course, a line to be drawn, for we can’t be off our heads in ecstatic relationship with everything all the time.

But just what is awen?  It is an awareness, not just on a physical and mental level but on a soul deep level – an awareness of the entirety of existence, of life itself.  It is seeing the threads that connect us all.  It is the deep well of inspiration that we drink from, to nurture our souls and our world and to give back in joy, in reverence, in wild abandon and in solemn ceremony.

Many are familiar with the Welsh tale/myth of Cerridwen and her cauldron, the three drops of awen falling onto Gwion’s finger and bringing his wisdom in the form of poetic inspiration, shape-shifting and prophecy.  Some liken this story to a Bardic initiation, or the three grades of Bard, Ovate and Druid.  In any case, drinking from the cauldron of the Goddess is to drink deeply of awen.

Many Druid rituals begin or end with singing or chanting the awen. When doing so, the word is stretched to three syllables, sounding like ah-oo-wen.  It is a lovely sound, that opens up the heart and soul. Sung/chanted together, or in rounds, it simply flows, as its namesake determines.  Our hearts literally can open if we let them when chanting or singing the awen.

Yet I am sure that the awen is different for each and every Druid.  The connection, and the resulting expression of that connection, the Druid’s own creativity, can be so vast and diverse.  It is what is so delicious about it – we inhale the awen and exhale our own creativity in song, in dance, in books, in protest marches – the possibilities are endless, as is the awen itself.

 

 

Awen and Peace – East meets West

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Further exploring the nature of peace, what leads me to understand the fundamental precept behind achieving peace is through compassion.  But what is compassion?

Dictionary definitions say that it is a state of sympathy with someone who is suffering, and yet that doesn’t adequately describe compassion in my mind, in either the Zen or the Druid tradition.  Two words in Sanskrit delve a little closer, such as karuna, a gentle affection and a willingness to bear others’ pain, or metta, often described now as loving kindness, acting for the benefit of all living things with a selfless attitude.

The Dalai Lama stated “Genuine compassion must have both wisdom and lovingkindness. That is to say, one must understand the nature of the suffering from which we wish to free others (this is wisdom), and one must experience deep intimacy and empathy with other sentient beings (this is lovingkindness)” –  (The Essence of the Heart Sutra).

For me, compassion is all about relationship, about an integration with the world, with the universe. As the native American saying goes – “We are all related”.  (Not just humanity, but essentially go far enough back and see that we are all star stuff.)  In order for this integration to occur, we have to learn how to lose that sense of self, for is there is a separate self, there can be no true integration, only the state of sympathy.  There is someone observing someone else’s suffering, and helping to alleviate their suffering but still retaining a sense of Us and Them. In Buddhism, wisdom, or prajna, is most often found through the teachings of No Self, or attana.

In my studies in Zen Buddhism, we are taught to help wherever we can, as selflessly as is possible, which is true compassion. If you help someone and then expect a reward, there is still a separate self expecting reward from a separate person.  We have to learn to drop all expectations. The Tibetan practice of Lojong’s final slogan is brilliant in this regard – Do Not Expect Applause.  Only then, there is there an integration of everyone involved.

In Druidry, this integration is often termed as relationship – but again, words fail to describe the enormity of the meaning behind it all. Druidry also uses the word, awen, a Welsh word with several interpretations: poetic inspiration and flowing spirit to name a few.  For me, awen is the life “force” itself, in its myriad expressions, in constant change and flux.

To find true peace, one must release into this, into awen, losing that sense of separateness, and in doing so discovering the nature of compassion in soul to soul relationship.

 

The Call for Peace

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Druid ritual in many traditions usually begins with what is known as The Call for Peace.  It is an affirmation that there is peace between everyone involved, and an aspiration that there be peace throughout the length and breadth of the world.  In ancient Roman times, Caesar documented some of the roles of the Druids in his time, stating how they were exempt from military service, did not carry weapons and often acted as intermediaries between warring tribes.  It was said that they could walk between the two front lines of battle and come through unscathed, for such was their role that none contended with their wish for peace.

Finding peace in today’s society is very, very difficult. I’m sure it was in ancient times as well, but I can only comment on the time that I live in with any sort of accuracy, however subjective or flawed my opinion may be.  When we make the call for peace in ritual, are we sure that there is peace within, nevermind without?

One has to begin with a definition of peace.  Here are some dictionary definitions:-

  1. the normal, nonwarring condition of a      nation, group of nations, or the world.  

This is interesting, as it infers that the normal state of the world would be a non-violent state between nations, groups of nations or the entire planet.  I do wonder if this time has ever existed.  This doesn’t only relate to the human species either – packs of wolves may fight for territory, as any of the feline persuasion as well.  However, I do like the sentiment behind this definition – that it is the normal state of affairs, and we are living abnormally, even if that has been since the dawn of time…

2. a state of mutual harmony between people or groups, especially in personal relations: Try to live in peace with your neighbours.

Indeed, this is a closer definition to what I think most people would believe peace to be, as we can relate to that on a much more personal level – not everyone is involved in a war-like conflict, even if their nation may be.

3. the normal freedom from civil commotion and violence of a community; public order and security: He was arrested for being drunk and disturbing the peace. 

Again, here we see the idea of normalcy being in a non-violent community.   It implies that we should, as a whole, be living in a non-violent, orderly and secure environment.

4. cessation of or freedom from any strife or dissension.

Again, many would relate to this definition, even if it can be somewhat vague, for everyone’s idea of strife or dissension could be entirely subjective – some people enjoy heated debate, others find it upsetting.

For me personally, turning over the idea of what is peace, I’ve come across words such as holistic, integration, relationship.  To be at peace, we must be at peace with everything else.  In a shared world, this is so difficult as to be nigh impossible – a few have claimed it (Buddha) and a few strive to live it in their mortal lives (again, Buddha, but also figures such as Dalai Lama, Mother Theresa, Gandhi).

Mulling over the idea of a pagan monastery all winter long, I would imagine that this peace would be so much easier to achieve in a state of withdrawal from the world, even with a group of like-minded people.  This withdrawal would also offer up the opportunity to integrate more fully with your religion without distraction, inasmuch as we are in a fairly secure environment in which to explore our religious passions.  We can focus on our relationship with others, with deity, with the world, without too much interference from modern day society.

But what is so bad about modern day society in which we cannot find peace?

Again, this is only a personal viewpoint, but seeing horrid images in the media of the strife that occurs all over the world affects our personal peace.  Bombarded by television shows that glorify arguments between individuals, families (I’m thinking Eastenders type here, but also reality shows such as X Factor, where we are invited to judge and determine who is better than another person and also become involved in criticism (see previous blog post on the critical mind).  How can I be at peace with the world when my morning radio alarm goes off and the first thing I hear of is how some man brutally beat an 80 year old woman to death in her own home?  Even if we don’t have televisions or radios in our home, they are prevalent elsewhere – there are even petrol stations in Amercia that have television screens on the pumps that play the news!

There are gods within Paganism that are associated with strife, with war.  Some of them also have healing qualities as well, showing a well-rounded, cyclical nature.  Perhaps establishing a relationship with these gods, if like me you are a polytheist, is the way ahead.  When the lines of communication open, and the nemeton is shared, our true selves can be expressed, whether that is with the gods or a badger.

Buddhism would say that the road to peace lies in compassion.  I’m still working hard on that one, bringing ideas of empathy and relationship which are a little closer to the language that I understand in Druidry.  I can see that we are all related, every single human being on this planet.  Every living thing is related in some form or other.  We are all star stuff.

So, back to the call for peace in Druid ritual – how definitively can we use the words below, as so many have done before?

Deep within the still centre of my being

May I find peace.

Silently within the quiet of the Grove

May I share peace.

Gently (or powerfully) within the greater circle of humankind

May I radiate peace. (OBOD http://www.druidry.org/events-projects/peacemaking-druidry)

 

The Druid Universal prayer makes no mention of peace, but does hint at it in the form of love at the end:

 

Grant o Goddess thy protection,

And in protection, strength,

And in strength, understanding,

And in understanding, knowledge,

And in knowledge, the knowledge of justice,

And in the knowledge of justice, the love of it,

And in the love of it, the love of all existences.

And in the love of all existences,

The love of Goddess and all goodness.  (Iolo Morganwg)

In order for there to be peace, there must be relationship. If there is no relationship, then anything apart from ourselves, or even our very self, can be an abstract.  So, perhaps when using either of the above, or our own call for peace within Druid ritual, we establish a connection, a relationship with everyone and everything inasmuch as we can, in order to better work with them towards a life filled with peace.  We can see where there is a need for peace in the world, and try to relate to that need in order to bring it about, or at the very least to understand it.  Where there is no need then there is peace.

The issues of need with regards to peace are interesting – these can vary from our need for peace to our everyday basic human needs, such as food, water, shelter and clothing. Where these needs are not met again there can be no peace.  We strive towards fulfilling our needs – that word, strive, with its same root as strife.

The call for peace is a good grounding platform in Druid ritual. It can bring everyone to a single intention, which in its form is the essence of ritual – actions based on intention in order to create relationship.  I’m not entirely sure that I am, as yet, able to state with absolute certainty that there is peace within any particular ritual, yet I am more than willing to share that intention of creating peace. Perhaps this is the more important of two, and focusing (perhaps pedantically) on whether or not there is peace is missing the mark.

May there be peace throughout the world.

Exploring the nature of criticism…

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I don’t put much store in astrology, but when people say Virgos are very critical, I can’t really deny it. All the Virgos that I know are – then again, I also know a lot of people who aren’t Virgos who are…

Ever since my post on the death of Margaret Thatcher and my criticism on the subsequent behaviour of those who downloaded Ding Dong I have been thinking about the criticisms that I hold on to in everyday life, and those that I feel I need to share with others.

In order to criticise something, there must be a sense of self, someone who is standing back and commenting.  Yet in Zen, the goalless goal is to integrate completely, so that the sense of self falls away and we are completely immersed in the here and now, in the environment, in life itself.  As a Druid this is so very appealing, for I long to release into nature to become a part of it; to stop distancing myself from it with ideas and notions of who I am, which are constantly changing anyway.  Pondering on the idea of self, Zen would offer that the sense of self is but an illusion that we create and cling to, for various reasons – out of security, fear and ego-driven desires.  Therefore, holding on to an illusion is a little bit of a waste of time. Criticising someone else’s is a total waste.  If it’s not real, there’s no point.

We have this idea about our selves, that we have created throughout our lives.  What if this sense of self was just those ideas that we repeat the most, the ones that we like the best (or hate the most), the ones that shout the most loudly in our heads? Ideas are not real things – they are abstracts.  Experience is the key here, for experience is not an abstract.

So, back to criticism – in a Zen Druid worldview, is it ever right or worth the effort to criticise something?  There’s that old adage – if you’ve got nothing good to say, don’t say anything at all. For me, this is not enough, for when something needs changing, when those who can’t speak for themselves need a voice, I will speak out against it.  The key here is to do so with respect, honour and integrity. I’m still learning.

Also, offering criticism when it is not asked for is an easy trap to fall into.  Our lives are filled with it – we are inundated with television shows like Big Brother, or more importantly other reality shows such as The X Factor, Dancing on Ice, Strictly Come Dancing, etc. where we are expected to criticise, where we are voting for who we wish to win.  The judges on these shows often criticise dishonourably, mocking and offering nothing helpful. Sometimes they are offering good criticism and are right (at least, we agree with them).  (Spot the paradox – I just criticised judges on reality shows J).  At any rate, what these shows may do is to make us feel better about ourselves, with an underlying fear that we could be that person being criticised.   What I am suggesting is that maybe we need to detatch from the world of dishonourable relationship, where criticisms are just plain mean, or mis-informed.  I know I’m still working on it personally, as per my Maggie post earlier.

In Zen Buddhism Right Speech is part of the Eightfold Path.  I remind myself of this every time that I can before I now offer criticism.  Yet Right Speech does not say “do not to criticise”, but rather to reflect on whether this criticism is beneficial to anyone.  Talking about people behind their backs, offering criticism when it is not asked for, or condemning people when you have absolutely no idea what their motivations are is not altogether “right”.  Yet Zen states that we will never fully know the motivations of others, and that reflecting on this is also a waste of time.  So before you say something about someone, ask yourself – “Is this beneficial to anyone? Is this making the world a better place?” If so, then go ahead – with love and compassion we certainly need to do this in our world.  If the answer is no, then keep it to yourself, or even better, let it go, seeing it for what it is – an illusion, in most cases.  We are not omniscient – therefore our opinions on most things are subjective, and indeed flawed in that regard.

In Zen there is a saying – “Do not seek the truth, only cease to cherish opinions”.  This really strikes a chord with me. It is not saying that we shouldn’t have opinions, but that we should hold to them lightly, for how often has your opinion on something changed?  My Thatcher post and subsequent discussion changed my opinion, certainly.  If we cherished opinions so highly, we could never learn new things, progress and really be in the here and now, in a state of true experience. We would be holding so tightly to things that shift and change, that are never constant. It’s like trying to hold water in your hands – no matter how tightly you squeeze, a little water always dribbles out.

So, next time I am about to criticise something, I will consider Right Speech. I will also question what or who it is that I am criticising, as well as just who I think is doing the criticising. Most likely, I will have no idea on either score, and therefore either keep my mouth shut or investigate further, delving deep into experience before coming to any conclusions.

Having a critical mind is a wonderful thing.  It can really help us to see what can be done in the world to make it a better place. How we use it is entirely up to us.  Also losing your critical mind can be a wonderful thing, being utterly absorbed into the natural world, at one with everything.  The paradox is delicious.