Cradle to Grave
I met Kerry online through a story sharing project. Cradle To Grave stories approached me because they felt (rightly) that their work in recording and sharing stories would appeal to my bardic inclinations. Furthermore, they had a Druidy story, and would I be interested? I was, and after listening, I asked Kerry, whose story I had heard, if she would be willing to share her thoughts here. She kindly agreed, and an email interview followed…
Nimue: Having listened to your recording for cradle to grave, I had a strong impression that for you, Paganism is an intrinsic thing, and that you are reaching for something innate. Would you like to talk a bit about how that works for you?
Kerry: The answer to your question is both yes and no.
Yes, in that I need something to ring true inside me. I’m pretty honest with myself and have always found it impossible to play along with any belief system that I could rationalise – as I can rationalise many of them – but did not sound a resonant chord inside me as being ultimately truthful. I know myself well enough to trust my own instincts, and I trust myself well enough to examine those instincts and separate the ones that come from an important place from those that come from an unimportant place! I like the concept of faith – but, for me, it has to come from a position of ‘I feel this to be true at a profound level’ rather than ‘I can abandon my instincts and go with this belief because I’d like it to be true’. That’s why that process I describe in my Cradle to Grave story, of reading that druid book and feeling that dawn of deep recognition was so significant to me. It wasn’t even as if I was actively reaching for anything at the time – I was busy with other things and not thinking about this sort of thing at all.
Yes, in that I feel it is important to have, at the heart of one’s connection with the divine, a personal relationship at a level that can never be taken away, because it is an intrinsic part of me. I have friends who went through phases of adhering to a religious faith in a fit of enthusiasm and conviction, only to examine its dogma in the cold light of day and question its veracity – and ultimately abandon that faith. And I think losing that light once you have experienced it is a dreadful thing. Whereas I know, at a deep root level, that my response to nature is not going to be something I ever lose. And that, as my connection to the divine is through the medium of nature, a secure relationship with nature means a secure connection with the divine. I don’t think I will ever be able to sit quietly in a forest and not feel the divine mystery which lies behind the forest.
No, in that I believe in the divine being something that is not just innate. I am not someone who believes that the divine is just an aspect of ourselves that lies within us, waiting for us to discover it in ourselves. I believe it has a real, separate existence as a deity. My experience of it is that there is a spark of it that lies in each of us, a spark which flares up and expands when it comes into contact with its original source. I do not worship or communicate with the spark of that deity that I sense lies within me – it’s the deity that exists beyond me that I worship and pray to. Sometimes I think that this deity might work through me when it requires something to be done – but I am not the deity and the deity is not me. The deity can be in me and work through me, but is also beside and beyond me – and universal and beyond universal. So in that sense, it is a great deal more than innate!
Nimue: Thank you, this is beautifully expressed stuff. Nature is real, after all, it doesn’t require belief. Is there anything that particularly inspires you?
Kerry: Metaphors. Messages that we see written in nature that speak of a great underlying truth. The apparent death that takes place at Samhain, without which new life would not be possible the following spring. Planting bulbs in the soil – and what they represent in terms of our trust that they will have their green awakening at the appointed time. The fulfilment of that promise that comes with the optimistic green shoots and buds the following spring.
I respond far better to metaphors than to dogma! Metaphors have, for me, a humility about them. They are a poetic inkling of what it’s all about, rather than an arrogant assertion. My feeling is that the great mystery which lies behind everything is so far beyond us to describe and contain in language that any attempts to capture it in absolutes can have dangerous results. I have seen too many cases of people taking the dogma of their faith at too literal a level, and mis-applying it as a result. I also feel that dogma runs the risk of being man-made, rather than deity-made – and, if we start setting too much store by man-made interpretations, we end up having a relationship with the dogma rather than the deity. Of course, I enjoy finding the common ground between the dogma of different faiths – so I do believe they have some value. But not at the expense of a direct, personal and essentially mystic interaction with what the deity is trying to communicate to us!
Nimue: Is there anything you have going on that people might want to follow up on?
Kerry: Actually, I don’t. I just tend to invite various friends over for dinner on the festival days and we have a ritual in the garden. They seem to like it, and no-one has ever found anything to quibble with!
Nimue: Fair enough! Thank you Kerry for sharing. If you want to listen to Kerry on Cradle to Grave, she’s here… http://soundcloud.com/cradle2gravestories/kerry I believe Cradle to Grave are looking for more stories all the time.
