When I lived in Edinburgh, I used to love waking up to the raucous (and extremely loud) cries of the chimney pot gulls that perched and nested on the 3-4 storey tenement buildings that make up so many of Edinburgh's streets. The echo created by the narrow paved streets, stone buildings and slate roofs amplified their laughing cries to a window rattling volume totally unlike anything you hear at the sea shore.

Another inhabitant of my world in Edinburgh was my friend Jonathon (yeah, that wasn't really his name). He was also a free spirit. He was a musician of the highest calibre. I'm sure that Jonathon possessed a piece of the Dagda's harp within his soul -- for he was one of those rare musicians who could cause his listeners to laugh, cry, dance, fight or be lulled into sleep with his music. Being a musician myself, I enjoyed his friendship very much, and we also enjoyed a similar, taboo-free, sense of humour that is rare to find.

Of course, there was a down side. Jonathon was one of the most irresponsible people I have ever known. He was the house guest from hell. He drank too much, smoked too much, messed up people's houses, seduced their wives if he could, and was difficult to get rid of when you got tired of him. He got barred from pubs as routinely as other people do their washing. He had a home to go to, but that wasn't nearly as much fun! Most of us put up with this, to whatever degree our patience allowed, because of his talent, because he was a lot of fun, and occasionally because it was just easier than the alternative.

The good people of Edinburgh were often up in arms about those annoying gulls, and various plots were hatched to get rid of them, but I always found myself siding with those noisy, messy creatures. They weren't very good neighbours, admittedly, but their wild laughter and free spirited approach to life filled my heart. I can be shy, reserved and overly cautious much of the time, but I see that the world needs wild freedom, too. Wild freedom rarely has much regard for the comfort of others. It stirs things up, it makes a lot of noise, and messes up our tidy lives.

I believe that having contact with free spirits is good for us on several levels. It teaches us to loosen up, to have a good time and stay up late and have some fun once in awhile, even though it's Tuesday. It teaches us that we can't control the behaviour of others all the time, and that we don't always need to. It teaches us that we can find creative strategies to protect our territory sometimes, and that we'd better learn to live with it when we can't.

Rooks - Intelligence, communication and problem solving come naturally. The society of the tribe is important, and the individual flourishes within it. Loss of these qualities brings ill. Change and death may be frightening, but can also be foreseen, and guidance found to pass through.

Photo by foxypar4

Rooks are monogamous birds who live in a close knit but rather casually organised society, in colonies known as rookeries. The males are great fathers and mates. The picture above shows an adult male and a youngster spending time together. Rooks  look very similar to crows, and there is an old adage "A rook on his own be a crow, and a group of crows be rooks" which drives home their tendency to be in groups with their own kind. The Rook card says to me that you can find your domestic bliss, and that it will be within a wider supportive "tribe". The intelligence of the crow family is well known, as is its relationship to death (or change) both as a harbinger and a guide.

Ravens and other covids are often associated with death in literature and popular culture. Because of this, some people find them "creepy" or "evil". Nothing could be further from the truth, and it's also worth remembering that (just like the "Death" card in Tarot) death is most often a symbol of change and letting go of the past.  Rooks, seems very positive to me. Intelligence and the support of a wider group are good keys to success. Problem solving abilities, and the resources to deal with change or loss are also to the fore. Learn to recognise and appreciate this big supportive family when it presents itself in your life. Going it alone doesn't seem to be the way to go here. Intelligence - either your own or that of others - will play an important part in this, and should be valued. There is a wider "family" that you belong to. Stay a part of this and you will be nurtured and encouraged to find yourself

The Rook way of living as a society is very beneficial to the individual. It allows for self expression and change to happen with friendly guidance. "Loss of these qualities brings ill." Is this significant for you?

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like One for sorrow, two for joy - a post about magpies.

Black Pony - A relationship may be frustrating for both parties. What appears wild and untameable should sometimes be left so. Tact and great patience will be required to avoid loss of dignity.  When an oracle card has a meaning or definition that long, you know you are looking at some deep layers of complexity. (I will also add a disclaimer here, for those who know me, that this card doesn't refer to either of the flesh-and-blood black ponies I happen to own, so if you know them, or stories about them, don't muddy the waters by adding them to the pot.)

You'd wonder why anyone would ever want to own a horse at all, but they are so beautiful, so seductive and iconic. They are enormous fun to ride when things are going well. Like other domestic animals, there are also plenty who are "in trouble" and need rescuing in one way or another, and that is a very strong pull for some people - especially when horses are so, well, you know - beautiful and iconic, etc. etc. On the flip side, in most cases where the human isn't coping with having a horse, their horse is not having a great time, either. It may suffer from neglect or even abuse (there are a thousand kinds of unintentional neglect or abuse which befall horses) or may be afraid of the owner, or very confused about what it is being asked to do.  It may simply be dying of boredom...

None of us has perfect judgement, and there is no universal formula for making right decisions. Many projects we look at are fairly safe bets. Either it's pretty obvious that we can get the job done, or it's something where nobody will get hurt if we don't. Then there is wild horse taming. If you're going to try that, I suggest that you take a long look at your skills and other resources. A long honest look. A long, well-researched, honest look. Then I suggest you take a long look at who might get hurt, and please don't forget the horse, or yourself, or your family - and I'm not just talking about physical injury here. Emotional and even spiritual damage is very real.

One horseman, Pat Parelli, has a very useful list, called "The Seven Keys to Success". The list is his, the comments in brackets are my own.

I've found this to be a pretty good guide for getting things done in life, and a pretty good way to assess what I can do, and what I might be wise to leave alone. Even if you don't use this exact criteria, this is the type of thinking that the Black Pony card is urging you to apply to this crazy thing you're considering. There is no doubt that sometimes being strong on Attitude or Time can compensate for a lack of Support or Knowledge, etc. However, if you are in doubt about whether to go into something big, that doubt alone is a little warning flag, isn't it? Few of us naturally assess our abilities accurately. We either believe that we can do anything we are passionate about (or can afford, or that we can fake it a little, or whatever) or we are the type to have low expectations of ourselves, when we could actually do more than we realise. Either way, an honest inventory of what is needed and what we actually have, is going to get us closer to the truth.

What about following your heart? Fair question! I am actually a great believer in following your heart. Remember that this post is really about the Black Pony oracle card, and its meaning. So if you see this card in a reading, then I believe it is definitely directing you to consider the question from these practical angles. Even then, passion is definitely an aspect of "attitude" and is worth including in the calculations!

"Glen - Sanctuary. A home for the heart. Longing and isolation." That's the definition of the card known as Glen in my Go Deeper oracle deck. How can all these things be the meaning of one card? I expect some of my readers will intuitively understand this, but for others, it's a puzzle. I'm sure that there is a whole generation of people out there who have not heard of Hannah Hauxwell, and I'm not sure whether her fame really reached North America, either. (I've been away in fairyland for 25 years, remember!) So allow me to introduce this lady to you.

Hannah was born on a farm in 1926, in a part of the Teesdale area called Baldersdale, in Yorkshire. Although remote, during her youth Baldersdale was a thriving farming community, but like similar places everywhere, during and after WWII the population dwindled rapidly. The Hauxwells hung on, but the isolated lifestyle left Hannah a spinster, and after the death of her mother when Hannah was thirty-five, she ran her farm single-handed. She had few neighbours, no running water, well or electricity in the early 1970s when she was "discovered" by the late Barry Cockcroft of Yorkshire Television. He featured Hannah in a documentary about the hardships of Dales farmers called "Too Long a Winter". This film highlighted the challenges of hill farming in winter - a theme which runs through Hannah's story. But as well as the challenges of frozen water supplies and sheep buried in snow drifts, life in isolated glens in winter has a further difficulty. The increased isolation from friends and other communities alluded to in the song lyric above.

In the late 1980s, Hannah finally made the decision to sell her farm and move into a nearby village. The grace with which she made the change was a testament to her good sense and fortitude, although there was never any doubt that she would have preferred to stay on at her farm. Being a celebrity perhaps made this easier in some ways, but Hannah never seemed all that interested in that side of her life, and it was the sale of her farm and its furnishings that set her up in her new place. I recall hearing a radio interview with her a few years back, and she said that once the loose ends were tied up, she never went back to Baldersdale. There is sadness in that statement, and longing, and perhaps very great wisdom, too.

Whether such a place contains a lively community or only one or two families, these remote valleys have a special character, and so do their people. There is no doubt that the lifestyle has much to offer. A daily engagement with nature, beautiful scenery and great quiet. Very often the homes are roomy and comfortable (if hard to heat!) and have long histories. Most neighbours are good neighbours but keep themselves to themselves, being busy with their own work.

It's been a long time, however, if it was ever the case at all, since people living in such places weren't self consciously aware that there was a wide and interesting world outside. This becomes particularly acute for teenagers and young adults. Whether they long to find a mate, or look for adventure, a career, or perhaps people with similar interests, the longing to leave arises. Many who do leave find this longing replaced, in a few years, with the longing to return. The snug home, the freedom and beauty seems not such a bad trade-off for the hardship and loneliness, after all.

This card came up as my personal daily draw recently, and I thought I would give this essay an airing on the blog - although I wrote it some time ago. It seems appropriate to the season, as many  celebrate Latha na Caillich (Day of the Cailleach) on March 25th.

Imagine standing, looking at a mountain, knowing you are going to have to climb it. Okay, for some people, mountain climbing is an enjoyable sport, but if you fall into that category, chances are you have still felt daunted by the prospect at times. Perhaps you thought "I'm afraid the weather is against me today," or "It looks scarier than it did in the guidebook," or "I wish I'd brought more rope." However, the seasoned mountain climber knows that you can only climb one step at a time, so all you can do is begin, and see whether you can do it. Very often, it's those of us who stand at the bottom making up stories to frighten ourselves, or who simply feel like we can't be bothered, who suffer the most. We are afraid of failing, afraid of falling, prefer not to leave our comfort zone, and yet, somehow we know that until we make the attempt, we are going to be a little bit miserable, knowing that it's still ahead of us.

The Paps of Jura- J Samara
Mountain - Resistance and perceived difficulty. The results of bad temper or anger.

In the 1960s, Donovan wrote the song There Is a Mountain, about illusion and perceived reality. The refrain went

The thing is - this card is about perceived difficulty. It's about our fears and our excuses, and our million and one avoidance techniques. After all - what is "difficulty" but a transient experience, a brief challenge or unpleasant period. While we can spend months, years, even an entire lifetime, sitting at the bottom of the mountain eaten up by our emotions, losing respect for ourselves, dreading it. It's enough to make us very angry.

Anger, of course, is the other aspect of this card. In Scotland in particular, and also in Ireland, many mountains have associations with a character known as the Cailleach. There is no simple tale that I can tell you, to explain the Cailleach. The stories are quite varied and often very local, and in areas where Gaelic was not the common language she is sometimes known as the "Carlin" (old woman or witch). She is also usually a giant.

As well as her associations with many high mountains, such as Ben Nevis and the Paps of Jura, the Cailleach is associated with deer, with winter and bad weather, with holding prisoners (including the goddess Bride) and other general mayhem. The very dangerous, and very real, Corryvreckan whirlpool is also hers. She may have existed in some form before the coming of the Celtic tribes, as a weather goddess, perhaps, whose story was later interwoven with the Celtic pantheon at a local level. A common theme in her stories is her anger at being old and ugly, and her desire to make others suffer, too - by keeping them in the grip of winter, by holding them prisoner, by raising storms and so on. At the same time - there are many stories telling how she created aspects of local landscapes. I guess she was able to put that anger to good use!

I believe the Cailleach, with her anger and frustration exists in all of us. The prisoners we hold are often ourselves. The anger is really aimed inward, although we may make life unpleasant for others by expressing it. The more negative aspects of the Cailleach are a great example to us of how not to live our lives - in anger and, bitterness, trying to control others and cause them trouble. We do not make things easier for ourselves with this behaviour, we just trap ourselves in a discouraging and repetitive cycle. Every time we do this, we make the mountain a little higher - or at least we think we do. 

Even if we have what looks like a mountain to climb, even if we feel we didn't  create it, even if it was created by someone else's anger or controlling behaviour, or forces of nature, none of that really matters. The Mountain is no big deal. Things probably look better, even from 100 metres up. The big deal is our perception.

If you enjoyed this, you might also like We Need to Talk About the Cailleach.

You've probably experienced the startling beauty of a really hard frost. The world is transformed into a frozen fairyland of sparkling toys, and sometimes treacherous roads and footpaths. One of my most abiding memories of frost is of a moonlit drive I took across central Scotland one Hogmanay after playing a gig in Stirlingshire. I had just started my own band, and had borrowed a PA from a colleague in Fife. The only thing was, he needed it for a gig the next day. The shortest route from door to door was down an assortment of winding B roads over rolling farmland and through villages. It just happened to be a full moon, and a very hard frost had been lingering for a couple of days.

Dramatic changes are often less appealing than my moonlit drive. However, Frost is quite an ephemeral thing. If it lasts for a day or two, that's pretty unusual, and while it's real enough, very little has actually changed under the white coating. Likewise, this card tends to refer to changes that, while they seem dramatic and sweeping, turn out to be no big deal. Tomorrow may be sunny or it may rain, but the Frost will quickly be forgotten.

Solitude, in and of itself, means nothing today. If I sit in solitude switching between Netfilx, the radio and my smartphone, the result will probably be loneliness rather than solitude - even if I don't recognise it as such. It will also be mentally noisy, and even when I switch off all devices, that noise is likely to continue. One result I notice from spending too much time media surfing is a shortened attention span and a lack of ability to focus. I need antidotes to this, and I need discipline to partake of the antidotes some days! Regular practice really helps. What I need is "soul-itude". Time spent honouring the needs of my soul. Turning off both the media chatter and the self chatter. Quiet in the environment provides a route to quiet within. Only when I am quiet am I able to listen, not just for a voice, but to listen with my very pores for a sense of the divine. Whether I am sitting in conventional meditation or riding a horse, my inward quiet and awareness provides my chance to hear.  

I'm the kind of person who longs for a regular schedule, but as soon as I come close to achieving one, rebels against it. Living in the country with animals, and at the mercy of weather and changing seasonal chores, I'm probably in little danger of ever achieving that regularity - particularly since I have so many competing interests. Can you sense the rush of thoughts there? What will I do first? What chores have I forgotten? Why don't I have more time to have fun?

The frustration of shortage.
There is an acknowledgement here of the frustration I'm sure others feel, too. I feel the shortage of fellowship keenly at times, whether in ritual or during the flatness of a Sabbat day spent without companions. One of the lessons that has to be accepted from Island life is that shortages are real, and if the Island's only shop is out of butter, no amount of money or complaints can change it, and all must equally go without until the next boat brings more. Some of us may be on this island by choice, others only by circumstance, and others are just visitors to the solitary path.

The need for simplicity.
I have found that ritual, far from adding another "chore" to my list, seems to simplify things. I know what is required, and I can get on with it. Rituals, like recipes, are best carefully chosen, tested and adjusted - but then they become second nature. It's how I learned to bake bread. What initially seemed like a lot of trouble to go through to eat healthier bread is now a straightforward and enjoyable process. This was something of a revelation to me. It happened when I decided to learn a couple of prayers. They were fairly short prayers, and the hard part wasn't learning them, it was remembering to say them. I ended up printing them out, sticking them onto pictures I liked, and putting them on my bedroom walls. It worked, and now these are a comforting and uplifting moment in my day.  As I've shared before, this was the origin of my meditation and prayer cards.

Valuing what you have at hand.
I can see myself doing something similar with the SDF daily devotions. I will value them, and no doubt personalise them, and enjoy knowing that perhaps others are doing something similar. I hope that I may gain a little extra strength to value and use the other gifts I have at hand as a result, and learn to spend a little more time in true "soul-itude."

*edit 2021: The SDF no longer exists.

A few years back I discovered Frank MacEowen's book "The Mist-Filled Path". I found a lot of good in this book at the time, and still enjoy returning to it occasionally. His use of Mist as a metaphor for the soul, for spirituality and liminality falls mostly in line with my own. So often in literature Mist and fog are used to create fear or mystery, but like Frank MacEowen I have always found it very touching and a thing of great beauty.

In my oracle system (which isn't really at all systematic!) the Mist card represents deep spirituality and mystical experience. From what I can gather of their etymology, the word mist does not share a common root with mystery, mystic, etc. I find that a little disappointing, because like most people, I find Mist a bit mysterious! The way it comes and goes, and obscures our vision, so that although it may be that there is no common shared origin for these words, they are merging somewhat in the way we think of them now.

Mystical, on the other hand, is a word which I hear misused a lot these days, and it's a shame, because it leaves those who use it more correctly in the position of being misunderstood -- and I don't see it being practical to go back and change all the old books to a newer, easier word for the benefit of the ignorant!

Webster offer us this:

and so, by extension, a mystic is someone who has such experiences. I would very much include this in the general feel of this card. My definition of the card says:

The touch of another world, or another reality, implies that such experiences are indeed somewhat "apparent to the senses" and "obvious to the intelligence". I didn't say "a rumour of another world" or "a hint of another world" but touch, and that is an important distinction.  When something touches me, it has a solidity. The Mist may obscure the face of that which has reached out to me, but just as we say "Pinch me in case this is a dream," touch implies that spiritual experiences are more than just dreams or fantasies.

The Mist of the mystical experience tends to come when we're ready, not when we think we're ready. If this card occurs in a reading I see it as a positive thing. Someone is having, or will have, wonderful experiences of a spiritual nature. However, in order for such experience to happen, and be meaningful, we need to let go of ego and allow perceived reality to dissolve, in order to make room for that "something greater."

Herons are skilled and patient fishermen. It's not unusual to see them standing motionless in shallow water for long periods, as they wait for the fleeting moment of opportunity when they will strike a fish with great accuracy. However, they are also more widely skilled and able to hunt on land when the opportunity presents itself, or dive for fish in deeper water. As a result, neither they nor their young will go hungry for long.

There is something about crows and herons. In nature, they rarely get along, with crows tending to mob herons - possibly because herons will eat other birds' nestlings. Perhaps that's why the two birds are so often associated in mythology, as their battles have drawn the attention of humans who then needed to explain them with stories. In most stories, the Heron is the good guy, but not always. The Chinese even suggest that the two birds can represent the yin yang concept.

Here is one folktale which, with only minor variations, is known from India to western England. It goes like this -

A crow and a heron were both perched in a large tree one day, when along came a traveller (or hunter, depending on the version of the story). The day was hot, so the man decided to have a nap in the shade of the tree. He fell into a very deep sleep, and after some time, as the sun moved across the sky, the shadow of the tree no longer protected him. The kindly Heron spread his wings out to shade the man's face for awhile longer as he slept on. So deep was his sleep that his mouth began to gape open as he snored. Soon the crow could stand this no longer, so he took aim and dropped something into the poor man's mouth! (It might have been an acorn, it might have been something else that birds sometimes drop - depends on who is telling the story.) Naturally the man awoke and he was angry. He looked up, saw the Heron, took out his gun (or bow) and shot him dead.

This traditional tale is a pretty extreme example of guilt by association, and when considering this aspect of the card in a reading, I would look for subtle variations on this theme as well as the more dramatic form of outright false accusation. For example, in one reading I did, it seemed that the client's spouse could not get past expecting her to hurt him in the same way that his ex had! He didn't actually suspect her of any bad behaviour, but he couldn't help expecting that it would happen eventually. (And those strong family ties made it difficult for her to give up on the relationship.) This card can also refer to things like prejudice and discrimination, as well as the dangers of "running with a bad crowd". In other cases, we might be looking at a situation where someone feels torn between loving loyalty to their family and some negative perception that society has about their family or social group.

Perhaps these considerations relate back to the heron's tendency to work (hunt) alone, yet also returning to their own kind for the safety of numbers. In a way, this is how the Heron balances the tendency to be misjudged, and avoids the risk of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He just gets on with his hunting, and goes home to those who understand him - if he's wise.


If you enjoyed this post, you might also like  Rooks (It's a tribal thing)

There is mist on the hills this morning, but no rain. Down the glen where the people live I can hear them starting the land rovers and making a lot of noise. If I were a deer, maybe I'd be worried. If I were a deer I'd be headed somewhere where they'd never find me. Or maybe not. Maybe, if I were a deer I'd be ready to meet my end today, ready to move on...

Stalking ponies, or Garrons, near Ullapool. (Roger McLachlan)

Last night I ate the hay inside this fence and some grass, too, and all of the dead thistles in that one corner. Water from a bucket. I am impatient to get back to the pastures. Life is more interesting there.

In a little while the man called Archie will be here. He almost always comes first. We know each other. He'll brush me very fast and throw the deer saddle on me. I'll spend most of the day waiting, but I'll probably be carrying a stinking, heavy stag by afternoon. I am one of the strongest ponies, they say. How frightened I was of that job when I was younger. The smell of blood! My instincts told me that this was dangerous. Blood attracts predators. I see now that the only predators here are the men, and they treat me almost as one of them. I know that they will keep me safe, but I do wish they would wash that smell off me at the end of the day, or let me roll in the mud where the burn is wide and shallow. I roll and roll in this enclosure, but even if I get the stink off of me, then it is all around me. I am glad that there are other ponies here with me. I am friends with the one they call Meg.

Ah, here comes Archie up the track. He'll be here soon. Later I'll be dozing in my saddle, tied to the rail there. I think it will be sunny. Yesterday, I dreamt of sweet spring grass and the smell of spring mares. I feel sure that they will turn us out on the hill soon! We have a winter of snow and hay ahead before the spring comes again.

Some of the men who walk with us are strangers. They smell odd and have loud voices. They look at the beauty of the glen with such wonder. Most of them stay near the land rovers, sometimes they come to look at me, slap my neck, fuss over the tying of their stag. I see the awe in their eyes. This place is strange to them, yet they are hungry for it. This is my home. I never leave. I see it's beauty all the time.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like Sacred Stewardship.