Nimue Brown's Blog, page 45

Seasonal Singing

(Nimue)

The photo above was taken during the recent Gloucester steampunk weekend. A group of us gathered at Mary de Crypt on the Sunday afternoon for a spot of seasonal singing. We shared a mix of carols, wassailing songs, and other things that felt seasonally appropriate for a mix of Pagans, Christians, agnostics and perhaps others.

Until that weekend I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d started something, but I have, and we’ll be back there in January to do something similar.

A few years ago I spent some time singing my way through the wheel of the year as a Patreon project. Some months are easier than others – December is certainly an easy one. There aren’t many good January songs, but I have one. We won’t be doing entirely seasonal music each month as I’m inviting people to bring and share what they like. It’ll be eclectic, folky and diverse, which I’m excited about.

My desire to honour the space has led me to look at what kinds of seasonal material there is in the Christian tradition. Easter and the harvest festival seem to be the two other points in the year with the most material but there are other things to draw on. I’m also looking at songs from the folk side that would sit well in a church. It’s an interesting exploration. To my great delight, Alison Eve has written a body of material for the Forest Church to use, so I should be drawing on that as well (I’ve ordered the book and CD).

I love the way in which music has the power to bring people together regardless of faith. The church is a beautiful space to sing in, and it feels like a good and powerful thing to do. I’ve got several participants who aren’t experienced singers and have been clear about wanting the opportunity to grow and learn, which is exciting. I also have a core team of really good and experienced singers who will bring material each month. It’s a lovely prospect and I’m delighted to be heading into 2024 with this in the mix. 

I’ll be using this space to build a team that can sing at local events. James and I felt strongly that we didn’t want to let go of the singing we’d been doing even though Ominous Folk isn’t viable any more. By this means we intend to create something new and to open up space for whoever wants to sing with us. It’s already shaping up well as a plan, and I’ll be sharing more from this journey as we go along.

Spirits of place

(Nimue)

We don’t know what the ancient Druids thought about spirits of place. We do know from the Romans that they gathered in oak groves and had a bit of a thing about mistletoe. This not being especially sensational, it’s likely to be true. We also know that Celtic peoples honoured a lot of Godds and that many of them were associated with specific places and were probably not worshipped widely. 

The idea of working with spirits of place is something we find in modern Druidry, and I’m not claiming there’s anything historical about it. However, based on what we do know about the beliefs of Celtic peoples, it seems fair to assume that modern and ancient Druidry have things in common around this concept.

The line between very local deities and spirits of place isn’t a clear one. Once you’re talking about a river, a well, a hill or a cave with a deity associated I’m not sure it makes any sense to try and categorise them as separate things. Deities who belong to specific places and who cannot meaningfully be honoured anywhere else are arguably spirits of place.

Spirits of place are everywhere. They are what dwells in a place – seen or unseen. Many of them have no interest in humans – consider the microfauna in the leaflitter, tiny insects in the tree bark or bugs living amongst the feathers of birds. We are unlikely to have anything much to say to each other. Some presences have more impact on humans – as with the trees and the birds. Connecting to these kinds of presences is a very different sort of process than trying to engage with a deity.

At the moment, David is sharing his explorations of working with the Morrigan. I’m struck by how different a path it is from working with spirits of place. There cleary are areas of overlap between the divine manifesting at a local level, and other kinds of local presence. Working with spirits of place has not (so far) offered me anything much to help directly with my own challenges. What it gives me is a sense of belonging and involvement that means a great deal to me, but does not direct me in any particular way.

I think it will be interesting to juxtapose these two different approaches as David and I seek sacredness and connection in radically different ways.

Not being tough

(Nimue)

The next few months are going to be challenging. I won’t know how challenging until we get in there, and I don’t know how much of that journey it will feel right to share. However, I’ve made some decisions about how to approach what I know is going to happen and it feels important to talk about it.

I’m not going to be tough, or stoical. I’m not going to focus on being strong, or hard. I’m going to yield. I’m going to face the coming challenges as softly as I can, with all the tenderness and gentleness I have in me.

I’ve tried it the other way. I’ve been through plenty enough challenging times before when toughing it out seemed like the right choice. I’ve done a lot of being strong for other people. I can endure a lot. I’m not prepared to keep living like that. That way of handling things is all about focusing on fighting and winning, as though the end point is the only thing that matters, and I’m not doing that any more.

I have fallen in love with everyday life. I’ve become much less goal-oriented generally, and much more interested in what can be good right now. If I treat the struggles as battles, I may end up too focused on what’s hard and not focused enough on where the scope for everyday good is. As it happens I think the challenges ahead can be overcome, but not all challenges work that way. Sometimes you can’t win, but you can make the best of every day given to you.

I will continue to be the kind of person who reflects a lot on the past. I will consider my actions carefully with an eye to the long term implications. Both of these things are important to me. However, I’m starting every day by asking what’s most important for that day, and what most needs doing. The answers I’m coming up with are about how to bring most joy and comfort into the day. What seems most important isn’t ambition or even useful things that might be done. It’s the sweeter, softer stuff. Although I am still also getting a fair amount done.

I will yield, and soften myself. I will be open, and if needs be I will be raw. I cry when I need to, and I laugh a lot more than I used to. I’m not being strong, or tough, I’m letting myself be fragile and vulnerable. It’s a good choice. I’m less stressed for doing this, less overwhelmed than I might otherwise be. There’s more room for kindness and more room for others to be soft and vulnerable with me, if they want. 

Last Christmas

(Nimue, fiction)

I wrote this piece to honour all those who fell during this year’s Whamagedon, and to celebrate those whose dedication to avoiding popular Christmas music got them through the season unWhammed.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart (it’s ok, covers and remixes don’t count.)

But the very next day you gave it away (and when it comes to questions of copyright I’d like to mention that there is an exemption for parody.)

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart.

Well, technically it was mine in the sense that I had it. Not the one inside my own chest of course, that would be way too complicated. Someone else’s heart, which I had claimed ownership of by removing it from their chest. But for some reason you didn’t find that especially romantic as a gesture.

This year, to save me from tears

I’ll give it to someone special

I’m looking for that special person right now, as it happens.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

And frankly I felt unappreciated because that was a pretty unusual and remarkable gift, not the sort of thing you can just waltz into John Lewis and buy. You won’t see that in any emotive Christmas adverts, will you?

This year, to save me from tears I’ll give it to someone special

The thing is that I like giving other people’s hearts as gifts, but it isn’t easy to find someone who understands.

Once bitten and twice shy

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye

Tell me baby, do you recognize me?

Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me

I think it was more than once, the biting. I really hadn’t expected that much screaming by way of a response but you’ve healed up well, The scars hardly show at all. Not with that neckline.

Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it

With a note saying “I love you”, I meant it

I wouldn’t just give a heart to anyone, that would be wrong.

Now I know what a fool I’ve been

But if you kissed me now, I know you’d fool me again

But based on what’s in the terms of the restraining order I’m fairly confident that you aren’t going to get that close.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

And you told me this. So who did you give that heart to? You could at least introduce me to them, we’ve clearly got things in common.

Winter Pagan traditions

(Nimue)

The UK has a lot of winter traditions that have a Pagan flavour to them – mumming and wassailing, hunting the wren, the Welsh Mari Lwyds, and more. However, if we’re looking at these as relics of ancient Pagan practice, it is as well to be careful.

In Stations of the Sun (which I heartily recommend reading) Ronald Hutton explores folk traditions through the calendar and examines their roots. One thing comes through loud and clear in this book – most folk traditions are in essence forms of ritualised begging. They have their origins in societies that have been grossly inequitable and give those who live in poverty a chance to pick up some extra resources during lean times.

Coming at these as a reasonably comfortable modern person, it can all seem rather jolly – the dressing up, the acting out parts or playing riddling games or displaying something all seems like fun. The realities of walking door to door as a carol singer or a mummer is that it’s cold and takes a lot of effort and if you aren’t well resourced to begin with, that will be hard. Traditional material associated with this includes begging for coins, food and drink.

Interestingly there’s often more than a hint of threat in this – trick or treating certainly isn’t the first tradition to go in for threats alongside the demand for gifts. It’s no doubt easier to apply pressure when you are dressed up and might not be recognised. It’s also worth considering that you take your wassailing to the local land owner, mummers and carol singers alike would have been hitting up the big houses, not the homes of equally poor neighbours. It’s a brief attempt at wealth redistribution.

If you are cold and hungry, singing at the big house in the hopes of getting a pie or a drink isn’t quite so jolly – unless those better resourced people find it in their hearts to be generous and even so, facing the wealth disparities cannot have been fun.

The question of where these stories and activities first came from is a different one. Are there older traditions here? Have these forms of ritualised begging drawn on older ideas, or were they made up to answer specific needs? People are innovative and always were so there’s no reason to automatically assume that anything complex must be some kind of throwback to some imagined golden age. 

It would be lovely to be able to do these things purely as a way of spreading cheer. However, with so much need in the world, anyone out and about performing is likely to be rattling a tin for the sake of a good cause. Often these days the mummers won’t be hungry and asking for food, they’ll be asking for your money to try and help fend off one of the many unfolding diasters impacting on so many people.

It’s an opportunity to use your creativity for the good of others – relevant for anyone one the bard path. In terms of where the Paganism is in all of this, we can think about it in terms of both festivity and justice.

Midwinter for Druids

(Nimue)

There’s no one right way of celebrating midwinter, and it’s fine not to celebrate at all if it doesn’t work for you. 

It can be a good time for celebrating community, family, hearth and home. If that works for you then decorating, sharing food and exchanging gifts can be a good way of honouring the season. This of course fits in well with people from other faiths, and people who only celebrate in a secular way, so that has advantages.

We know that many of our Pagan ancestors appreciated a good party – from evidence of prehistoric feasting, stories of Celtic celebrations and what we know of Norse mead halls, and more. Feasting and making merry feature in many different Pagan traditions. There are a lot of festivals at this time of year to draw inspiration from. You don’t have to do something traditional or accurate to some specific period of history. It’s fine to just go with the spirit of the season and celebrate joyfully in whatever way best suits you.

Not everyone enjoys excess. Jollity is feasible without going in for excessive consumption.  If what really makes you happy isn’t what others are doing, that’s fine. Authentic joy is worth so much more than conformity.

For some, the right response to the season is to seek peacefulness in the dark. This can be a time for quietness and contemplation. Through the long nights and short days it’s also appropriate to be reflective and inward looking. It’s a time to pause and think about our lives, what the last year has brought and where we intend to go next. Rest, sleep, gentle comforts and tranquility can be the core of how you celebrate the turning year.

It’s also fine to do both, you don’t have to pick a single path through all of this. Make merry, and also make time for meditation if you like. Enjoy the lights and cheer, and then retreat into the peaceful darkness.

Druidry isn’t about doing things in one specific way, it’s not a path where conformity is what counts. The important thing is to proceed thoughtfully. Work out what matter to you and what you find significant. Discover what you need from this time of year and what calls to you spiritually. Choose deliberately. If you aren’t sure, take the time to experiment with different approaches and find out what this season means to you. Learning and exploring are part of this path, as is the freedom to change and express yourself differently as you learn and grow.

Steampunks in Gloucester

A couple of videos have come out from the recent Gloucester steampunk event and I thought people might enjoy them here.

The first one is a film of the Jovial Crew doing a mumming play, This is not a traditional play, but it’s based very much on the kinds of things that go on in traditional ones. The characters mostly relate to Gloucester. Having politics in the mix is very much part of the tradition, and getting into a disguise in order to challenge authority is part of it – although you can plainly see most of the faces of the performers. I wrote this for Robin (in the marvelous tatter coat) based on what he wanted from a script. That’s my fabulous offspring James being the cheese – he’s been the boar in other productions. My lovely Keith is being Beelzebub, and Jessica (in whose band I play) is the inventor of the vacuum cleaner!

This second video is of the parade through the streets. The Gloucester Steampunks are embodying all kinds of midwinter traditions here – mostly from Europe, but not entirely so. Some of us just wear what we fancy. These attract a lot of attention and bring cheer to the streets, it’s a lovely thing to be part of.

This year we paused to re-enact that time a king decided to put a barrel of beer on trial in Gloucester – Keith wrote the script for that and acted as prosecutor. When we got to Mary de Crypt we had a brief Christmas Carol scene. The person who inspired Scrooge is buried in the church.

Living Tradition is really important to me. How we keep traditions alive, honour the past, and celebrate are all really good things to think about. I love being part of this creative community that does such lively, innovative things in honour of local history and tradition. There are some very traditional things going on there – perhaps most importantly the broad – a cow skull traditionally carried by local revelers. We sang a local wassailing song on the Sunday as well.

Pagan Book News

Earlier in the year I set up a page on Facebook for Pagan book news. I wanted to do something to support my people – in this case Pagans, Pagan authors, and reader and also book culture. We’re all under a lot of pressure at the moment, social media restricts views of links, AI users are trying to push real creators out sites that sell our stuff take ever bigger cuts. This was a small thing I thought I could do to try and help people.

In a fit of inspiration, I thought it might be fun to do a Pagan Book of the Year – with fiction and nonfiction categories. I opened nominations a few weeks ago, and now there’s a poll running. You can vote over here – https://s.surveyplanet.com/hlu76wny

It’s not a deeply considered assessment of every Pagan title to come out in the last year. I wish I had the resources to do that, but I don’t. People nominated books and I invited authors to put their own work forward. However, it is worth saying that quite a few books were nominated by people who had read and loved them, which was wonderful. I have a book on the list because someone nominated it, I did not put myself forward and hadn’t intended to include anything of my own.

Voting will be open until the 30th December and I’ll announce the results on the 31st. Do check out the titles in the lists, there’s lots of really good stuff there. One of my hopes is that this will help draw attention to all of the books on the list because even when you’ve got a publisher it isn’t easy even making people aware that your book exists.

What’s it like to be a Druid?

(Guest blog by Mikalobakus)

Actually, rather like being a human being on a daily basis.

But it depends on the type of human being. Druids are a diverse and ragged edged group, self defined and accepting all comers, up to a point. If you are too far from common Druid thought and practice, probably nobody will try to kick you out, but you may find, and others may point out, that not much is gained, for you or anyone else, from you doing Druid things. And if you become disruptive, you will be encouraged to step aside.

The most fundamental idea in Druidry, for me, is the integration of mankind within nature, both collectively and individually. We are part of the universe, and, through our numbers and our technology, have a critical role to play in the web of life on our planet. We have a fundamental obligation not to mess it up as we are doing at the moment. Similarly, as individuals, we have an obligation to nurture and respect the natural world around us, including the other human beings we may affect by our choices or actions.

For most Druids a significant part of this is a belief in some form of collective consciousness, or spirituality. The spiritual universe is integrated with the physical universe, and may or may not be home to spiritual beings – deities, elementals, spirits of place, souls of the living and/or the dead – maybe all of these, and a selection of others! I try to respect all beliefs in this area so long as they reflect the ideas of integration and mutual respect. A lot of us believe in the use of spiritual connections (prayers, rituals, magic, offerings, …) to gain a wider insight into our universe, and/or to influence the outcome of events in the physical by interacting with the spiritual. Others will see it as mainly or wholely affecting the participants, providing synchronisation, inspiration, motivation, and ideas to the individuals involved. Or both – whatever works for you is fine by me.

Another basic idea, at least for me, is the individual within the group. Every one of us has a personal life path which we make for ourselves, within the universe as we see it and as it affects us in a multitude of ways. Our most important responsibility is to ourselves – our physical, spiritual and material welfare, our growth and development, and our contribution to the groups to which we belong. These form a heirarchy, sometimes overlapping – family, spiritual, friends, community, locality, …., planet, universe. All of these have different interactions, and some are more important than others, depending in part on the politics and administration of the place where you live. This has to be approached in a pragmatic but principled way – if something is wrong, but you have no effective way to influence it, record the fact, sign the petition, and get on with something else. But at the same time, the groups have responsibilities towards you – again depending a lot on where they are in the heirarchy. Do not be afraid to give to or to accept help from a group, and do not adopt an accounting mentality. But at the same time, look after yourself. Emergencies apart, you do no good by giving all you have and then calling for help in the morning!

A personal devewlopment path I find useful is through knowledge, understanding, wisdom, and empathy. First find out the facts as far as possible, analyse them together and in the immediate context, review the facts and conclusions, then look at the wider environment to seek underlying causes, unexpected effects, wider implications. Look for balance and harmony wherever possible, and consider the lives and circumstances of those affected now and likely to be affected in the future. This can obviously be an iterative process at any level, and often is. Doing this can often reveal the complexities of a situation, or illustrate a way forward that was not obvious at the start. At least it can avoid robbing Peter to pay Paul, or jumping on a bandwaggon.

We are unique human beings, and we have a unique basket of talents and abilities. These need to be developed to the point where we can run day to day life, but beyond that I am always looking for things that I can do better than those in my groups. That way my personal improvement provides a growing resource for the group, rather than simply satisfaction for myself.

Visiting Stonehenge

(Nimue)

At the weekend I had the wonderful experience of going to a Druid gathering at Stonehenge. I have done it before, but not in many years, it’s the kind of expedition that really calls for a driver. I prefer to mostly do my pilgrimages on foot, but Stonehenge is something truly special and I really needed the connections this gave me. Two of the three of us in my party had not done this before, so that was also an important consideration.

We spent some of the day exploring the landscape around Stonehenge – not something I’d been able to do before We visited nearby woodhenge, looked at Durrington Walls and visited some of the barrows. These are considerably later constructs than Stonehenge, and shows that this site stayed significant to people long after it was built. This is especially important to me because as a modern Pagan I’m not doing what my ancestors did here, but there is a continuity in simply wanting to show up and in feeling moved by what’s in the landscape.

I hope to go back in more suitable conditions and spend some time walking in the landscape around Stonehenge. I’d like to spend more time with the barrows and to explore other remnants of ancient history in the landscape.

One of the things we were able to do at Stonehenge, was sing. Being very much on the bard path, this means a great deal to me. I have sung there before. This time I was able to share my ‘3 Drops’ which is an explicitly Druidic song, with James leading it and Keith joining us. It was a powerful, magical thing to get to do, offering that creation to both the place and the people gathered in it. I found it a deeply affirming experience.

At one point in the ritual we were invited to open ourselves to the space and seek a single word as a focus for our inspiration. What were we there to learn? To take away with us? I had quite a strange experience at this point. I’m going to take some time to sit with it and think about it. My word was ‘giants’ and has implications for the spirits of place book I’m working on.

Every time I’ve been to Stonehenge in the past, I’ve been sleep deprived to some degree – probably least so for this most recent visit. When I’m sleep deprived, I hallucinate. My first experience of this at Stonehenge was seeing a herd of wild horses in the mist. This is fairly typical of the kinds of things I see when my brain is being odd. Arguably these are aura migraines, but they make for interesting experiences and I remain open to them as spiritual experiences. 

For me, the question around magical experiences is, what do they inspire? If what I experience takes me in a good direction, then I don’t think it matters in the slightest whether it was ‘really’ a kind of visual migraine. I’ve come away from this midwinter gathering with some considerable things to think about and explore. I’m probably going to need to do some sitting out, which is challenging at this time of year. I’ll write more about this when I’ve had chance to do some of that and reflect on it all.

(Photograph by Keith Errington)