Nimue Brown's Blog, page 94

How do you know yourself?

Self knowledge is key to so many things. In understanding our own feelings, needs, strengths and weaknesses we are able to make better choices for ourselves. Knowing how we’ve been shaped by our families, cultures and experiences means we aren’t forever at the mercy of those influences. 

Contemplation can be a route to self-knowledge. Time spent reflecting on choices, preferences and aspirations can be informative. That can still leave us vulnerable to forming an opinion of who we want to think we are rather than an understanding of who we actually are.

One good source of information can be what other people reflect back to us about our qualities. The problem with this is that some people will reflect back harmful takes designed to hurt, limit and control other people. If you’ve grown up being told you aren’t good enough, it can be difficult to hear positive feedback from other people. Some people will try and project their own issues onto you rather than reflecting back anything about you. Some people simply won’t understand you and their feedback may not be helpful.

Criticism is not inherently more useful than praise. You can learn a lot from the good things people have to say, and the things they value about you. Those are firm building blocks and tend to be more reliable. Yes, there are people who will flatter because they think it’s going to advance them in some way, but they will likely try to be plausible. If you aren’t hurting people for giving you negative feedback you can afford to trust the people who speak well of you. Positive feedback is inherently more trustworthy than criticism because there’s a much lower chance that it is intended to manipulate you. People who want to make you feel good about yourself are a better source of feedback than people who want to hurt you.

I like to go into most situations with at least a vague plan and a clear sense of my own priorities. Every now and then I hit something that truly surprises me in that I react in a way I was not expecting. These are always rich opportunities for learning. It cheers me to find that I do not wholly know myself and am still capable of being surprised by my own responses. To feel something unexpected, or to be inspired into an unanticipated course of action is always interesting. Sometimes this is the only way to really measure growth and change.

Seeking out unfamiliar experiences can give us the opportunity to test ourselves. Who am I when I am challenged? Who am I in face of opportunity and set-back? What has the power to sweep me off my feet? 

For me, this is the essence of adventure – this opportunity to know something new and discover things about myself. I have no desire to settle or become one definite and fixed thing. I want to change, and I want to be surprised by how some of that goes.

Blaming Nature

CW assault

One of the things I am incensed about is the way in which humans like to blame the rest of nature for problems that are intrinsically human. This leads to situations in which the natural world is further harmed by projects that don’t solve the problems. 

As a recent hideous case in point, a walrus was killed in Norway because allegedly she posed a risk to humans. The actual problem was that humans refused to leave her alone, but rather than deal with the problematic human behaviour, the walrus was killed. This sort of thing happens a lot when inappropriate human behaviour causes problems with wild creatures. Bears suffer a lot from this sort of thing.

The main argument for filling the night with light is to improve safety and combat crime. Lighting the night has not caused night-time crime to cease. It does however put strain on insects, birds and other wild things. We barely even understand what we’re damaging when we light up the night – and we do so to tackle human behaviour, when that human behaviour is not dealt with by brighter illuminations.

I had a rant recently about how trees were being cut down in response to a local attack. Apparently some women were afraid that predatory men could hide in the bushes – knowing the area intimately I must point out that this was never going to be a serious issue and that many of the trees we lost could not possibly have hidden anyone. Trees and bushes do not cause attacks. This is a people issue, and trashing other living beings doesn’t really make anyone safer. People who might attack you don’t stand around doing self announcing things so that you can see it would be a good idea to avoid them. Equally if someone intends you harm, being able to see them slightly sooner doesn’t change much.

We park our cars under trees and then want the trees cut down because they, or the birds in them, make a mess of the car. We build on floodplains and then we want more dramatic and invasive flood management projects to deal with the water. Trees catch fire in drought conditions and we treat it like the trees are the problem, not the human-made climate change. 

We cannot solve intrinsically human problems by attacking other living beings or by destroying habitats and ecosystems. The trouble is that human problems would take effort and time to deal with, while killing the walrus or cutting down all the trees is relatively quick and cheap, and then you get to say that you’ve been responsible and dealt with the problem.

Anxiety, Inaction and Compassion

This week, splendid Druid blogger Cat Treadwell put up a really brave piece of writing about how anxiety has been making her freeze. https://druidcat.wordpress.com/2022/08/23/update-2/

I recognise all of this, and it’s an issue that has crippled me repeatedly this year, leaving me unable to function at times. I’ve not talked about it much because I haven’t known how to, but seeing Cat’s post inclines me to step up. It’s a lot easier to think about these things when they affect other people. What Cat is going through clearly isn’t ok, and I wouldn’t blame her for that in the way that I tend to blame myself for my issues.

What do we expect of each other? What do we assume in face of other people’s efforts, shortcomings and struggles? If you start from the assumption that everyone is doing the best they can with what they’ve got, then it’s a good deal easier to stay kind when people fall short of the mark. Sooner or later, we all mess up, or aren’t as good as would have been ideal. It’s a human thing. It is necessary to be able to say when things aren’t good enough, but it’s better not to assume this is either malice or lack of care.

Assumptions of laziness plague people who are ill. This is not an accident. It’s a deliberate approach coming from both governments and media, to blame and shame people who are struggling and to put the burden of responsibility onto them. Right now in the UK we’re seeing that extended to all people in poverty who are being told they must work harder, even though the problem is clearly the amount of profit going to shareholders.

There’s nothing lazy about wanting time to rest and recover, or needing to get well. There’s also nothing lazy about a person not wanting to work themselves to death so that someone else can make a profit out of them. Most of us are doing the best we can with what we’ve got – when what we’ve got isn’t enough and there is too much that we feel under pressure to do. No one should feel frightened or ashamed for trying to meet their own basic needs, but here we are.

It costs nothing to lift, support and encourage people. It is an easy thing to affirm that you know people are doing their best. Keep your rage and frustration for the people who create the impossible situations we’re all now in, not the people who are just trying to deal with it and cope. There is power in kindness, and the potential for transformative change in not adding blame and humiliation to the burdens people are already bearing.

It is easier to act when you feel supported. When you anticipate knockdowns, criticism and humiliation it is very hard to do anything. Being distressed to the point of being unable to function doesn’t improve anything for anyone. We can all contribute to doing better around this, by deliberately lifting and encouraging people when we can. Culture – after all – is just people, and as people we have the power to change how it works.

Your Druidic practice

I was struck this week by this powerful post about daily practice, routines and needs – https://therivercrow.wordpress.com/2022/08/22/august-update/ such that I felt it was worth me chipping in.

So many pieces of writing on Paganism and Druidry advocate for a daily practice or for specific kinds of activity. Not everything works the same way for everyone and there should be no shame or unease in doing things that work for you and avoiding things that don’t. Some of us need routines to function at all, and some of us find them stressful and unworkable. Honouring nature means honouring nature where it manifests in you which in turn means not trying to force yourself to be something you are not.

It’s all too easy for people who don’t struggle with things to conclude that said things are fine and everyone can do them. At this point I’m largely convinced that phrases like ‘everyone can’ or ‘everyone should’ are strong indicators that the person writing the piece has little awareness of how diverse people are. I’m pretty sure that there is nothing that everyone can or should do in any specific way.

There are two key questions to consider when it comes to how you do your Druidry. Firstly, what does your Druidry do for the world? And secondly, what does your Druidry do for you? The answer to the first question needs to be some form of good, and it can be any form of good. The second answer needs to be about how you are affected, be that in body, heart, mind or spirit. Your druidic practice should give you comfort, inspiration, a sense of purpose, or relationship or connectedness. Some of those things, or all of those things. There may well be other good things that you find in your Druidry, but I think these are the core qualities to look for.

It is worth trying things a few times before deciding how or if they work for you. It’s often difficult to make a good decision about something when you’ve had little experience of it. At the same time, it is not the case that there’s any merit in slogging away at something that leaves you cold and does nothing for you just because you’ve been persuaded that you have to do it to be a good Druid. If you get a strong feeling of aversion to something at the first try, there’s no reason to make yourself uncomfortable by revisiting it.

It’s also worth noting that there’s a lot of variety within any given practice and a lot of room to do things on your own terms. If what one writer or teacher has to say on the subject doesn’t work for you, then it may be worth looking around for other inspiration and possibilities. It’s also worth considering exploring things on your own terms. Every Pagan practice out there is something someone figured out, and the people doing the figuring out were not massively more qualified to do that than you are. If you’re willing to put in the time exploring and experimenting, then you are going to become an expert in the thing you are doing.

Making decisions for other people

This is an issue that comes up particularly around teaching, and it’s a fascinating ethical minefield. Most people do their best learning and growing when they’re at the edge of their comfort zones. Sometimes, breaking out of the comfort zone is absolutely necessary. Consent is also a super-important thing in all aspects of life. Teaching creates power imbalances and stepping up as a teacher is pretty much an assertion that you might have a better idea what a person needs than they do.

All of this creates a lot of opportunity for predators to thrive. You don’t have to be a Pagan long to run into stories about teachers who said that sex was wholly necessary for a rite, or who violated other boundaries. There are all kinds of ways in which teaching can cause distress, and cheerfully shoving people out of their comfort zones isn’t reliably in their interests. It can be alarming, terrifying and counter-productive.

If the teaching is good, then you’ll feel supported when you’re at the edges of your comfort zone, and able to step back at need. You know you won’t be told off, humiliated or rejected if you do need to say no. If you’re invited to enter a ritual or other activity where you don’t know in advance what to expect, you should be able to talk about your own boundaries and needs. And that won’t be normal. It might make sense for an initiation to plunge you into the unknown a bit, but to be pushed that way all the time isn’t good or healthy.

To teach well, you have to be willing to shoulder responsibility, and to make decisions for the people who you are teaching – how fast to take them into something, and what to advise them, in particular. These are issues whenever anything is taught. How do you keep an eye on where the student is in relation to their own comfort zone? How do you handle problems? How willing are you to put their needs ahead of your ego?

It takes considerable confidence to look at another person and make judgements about what they most need. Good teaching and leadership alike can really depend on this. So often, to grow we need someone else to guide us beyond what we’re familiar with. It takes a lot of trust to have that work, and when that trust is misplaced, it causes a lot of damage.

Something must be done

Just because something must be done, it does not follow that the thing you can think of to do is the right answer. I’m in a state of rage and distress as I write this because the something being done is that trees are being cut down. This won’t solve the problem even slightly.

Some weeks ago, a woman was attacked, in broad daylight not far from where I live. This is an awful thing to have happened. She was in a public space, in the middle of the day – she’s one of those women who even the most enthusiastic victim blamer would struggle to find fault with, but like too many other women, she’s been attacked. Trees played no part in what happened, and their absence would not have kept her safe. But the response has been to cut down all the nearby trees.

What are we going to do if someone else is attacked fifty yards further down the path? Keep cutting down trees? It makes no sense. It’s a move that lets people feel like they are doing something, but as the something in question helps no one and prevents nothing, this is an expensive kind of injustice. It’s a loss of life, of habitat, and no one is made safer by it.

The tunnel where the attack happened was left without lights for months thanks to vandalism and inaction. That was a real hazard. The one laurel tree that had grown substantially under the one street lamp was an issue that legitimately needed tackling, but that was all.

Safety from attack is not about cutting down trees. We need to treat victims a lot better and prosecute more effectively. We need to challenge rape culture. Trees are not the reason people feel able or inclined to attack other people. Cutting down the trees does not cut down the crime – quite possibly the opposite given what we know about the impact of trees on reducing all kinds of criminality.

Druidry for your soul

Most of my focus when I’m writing blogs is about how to put Druidry into action for the benefit of people and planet. This is partly because it was something I pledged to when I first initiated as a bard. However, pouring from an empty cup is seldom a good plan and it is important to think about how we are each nourished, as well as what we might give.

Druidry can give us a focus for bringing beauty into our lives. We can do this by creating altar spaces and through making ritual. We can also use ritual to create peacefulness and to seek inspiration, and we can also approach meditation and prayer with that in mind.

For some people it seems helpful to seek messages and signs in nature. This can be a source of meaninging and reassurance, and if that works for you, that’s great. It doesn’t work for me at all. I find that going out in pursuit of meaning can actually get in the way of having the experiences I need. If I’m out there trying to find something significant I can bring back and work with, I will likely be trying too hard. I may come back with ideas, but the odds of feeling nourished by the experience are slim.

We are all routinely bombarded with messages about productivity. I’m a very ‘doing’ oriented sort of person, and also an ideas oriented sort of person, and if I’m not careful this can turn absolutely everything into work. It is a terrible idea to spend all of your time actively looking for raw material you can spin into something to use. It becomes relentless. Pressure to perform online and to look the part on social media can add to this.

I think it’s really important to have some part of your spiritual life that remains private and personal. Holding some experiences close, and not talking about them or using them in any particular way is important soul-care. We don’t have to turn every part of ourselves into something other people can consume. 

Obviously I’m not going to tell you about the things I don’t tell you about, but they exist. Small, quiet things that are part of my life, and part of my day. I’m trying to figure out how to expand that soul-space and how to make more time in my life for things that I do for me, and for no other purpose. I may come back and talk about the process, but the details I will hold close.

Forest spirit fungi

I found these fungi growing on a tree stump. I’ve been keeping an eye on the stump for a while as its been dug into and I suspect there are rodents. There are very few fungi I can confidently identify but as I’m not a forager, that’s not of great consequence. I just enjoy seeing them. These were entirely white for a while, and are now breaking down and developing faces.

They remind me of the way Japanese tree spirits – kodama – are represented in Studio Ghibli films.

Fungi plays a critical role in woodland, even thought we mostly can’t see what it’s doing. for some time now I’ve thought of fungi very much as forest spirits, so I found the way this fungi that evokes tree spirit imagery resonant.

Quiet Quitting is an abomination

When people talk about ‘quiet quitting’ what they mean is just doing the job you were paid to do. That’s a truly horrendous concept. Doing the job you were paid to do is doing your job. Going above and beyond is not something your employer is entitled to. Whether that’s unpaid overtime, being available when out of work when that isn’t in your contract, or anything else being extracted from you that you aren’t paid to do – that’s exploitation.

The dangled carrot is that this is the only way to progress. Doing the job you are paid to do is not enough to get you a pay rise or a promotion. That’s also appalling when you stop and think about it. The idea that your job should be more important than anything else in your life, and that your job should own you, is entirely vile. Unpaid overtime is wage theft. Most people aren’t following a calling, they just want to be able to afford to live. Asking everyone to work like they have a soul deep compulsion to do the job is unreasonable in the extreme.

Workplaces often try to save money by not replacing staff who leave, making those who remain pick up more than their share of the work. It’s exploitative. We’re seeing at the moment in UK transport what happens when a business runs on the assumption that employees can be pressured into working their days off to cover for colleagues who are ill. You can’t sustain that as a model, especially not for a public facing job during a pandemic. You can’t have people working their rest time and not have them get ill and burned out. Companies should employ enough people so that they can cope with illness and holiday leave, but far too many don’t. It’s not a lack of money – vast sums go to shareholders in this case.

I had a round some years ago when it became apparent that I’d got pretty good at the freelance job I was doing. It was suggested to me that my workload should therefore increase with no pay increase, because they were paying for my time. I was able to sit the relevant people down and explain that this is basically punishing someone for being good at their job and honest about what they are doing, and the whole thing was dropped. It helped that as a freelancer doing multiple jobs I was in a position where I could really quit if something became too much work for too little money. Of course, not everyone can do that.

Doing the job you are being paid to do, is doing your job. Don’t let anyone persuade you that they are entitled to more than that, or that you are a bad employee if you simply do what you’ve been contracted to do.

Returning to the labyrinth

My obsession with labyrinths started many years ago, at Gloucester cathedral. I was living on a boat at the time, and mooring in the Gloucester area sometimes. By chance, I visited the cathedral on several occasions when they had big canvas labyrinths out in the main body of the building. I was utterly enchanted.

Building labyrinths wasn’t an option for me until I landed in Stroud. I didn’t have the space on the boat to store suitable materials. Stroud has a number of public spaces where it is feasible to lay out something on this scale, and I’ve done that a number of times now in various locations.

For reasons, I haven’t built a temporary labyrinth in a little over two years. They take a lot of setting up so I’ve got to be in a pretty good place to be able to do it. Being able to just rock up and walk a labyrinth was a really welcome thing for me. On the downside there were children who were being allowed to treat it as a playground, and adults who walked right across it while others were using it – this has always been an issue with labyrinths in the cathedral and it frustrates me encountering people who don’t notice the beauty of what’s there and who undermine that with their carelessness.

I walked the Gloucester labyrinth twice. The first time I was grieving the lack of labyrinths in the last two years, and grieving what happened around the last one I built. I was remembering my first labyrinth experiences in the cathedral, and trying to manage my frustration around how other people were being disrespectful and disruptive.

My second journey was undertaken without disruption from others and allowed me the space to explore gratitude for the labyrinths in my life and for my relationship with Gloucester cathedral. There’s no active Christianity in my Druidry, but nonetheless, Gloucester cathedral is a sacred place for me and has been so my whole adult life. It’s a place of ancestry, of history, and of peace, and has been a place of solace for me during times of extreme difficulty.