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A Soul Cake!

31/10/2012

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A wonderful Samhuinn folk tradition.

Halloween is a funny old holiday. So commercialised now, and in Britain, so Americanised. The media, the clergy, the folklorist and the Pagan all try to interpret the meaning, dragging the Druids and witches into it, but often with little idea what a Druid or witch is or might have been.

This souling play is a pretty typical piece of English mumming, and a very entertaining one, I think! In times past, these plays were performed outside private homes, along with souling songs. The idea was that the people of the house then gave food and money to the performers. One of the most common gifts were soul cakes, spicy cakes a little like hot cross buns, which in some regions were shaped like a doughnut and in others had a cross on them. At one time it was believed that for each cake given and eaten a soul was helped through purgatory.

There is obviously a big Christian influence in the content of these songs, plays and customs, and yet a strong feel of something older underlying it all. Life, death and rebirth are pretty universal human preoccupations, and it's no wonder that the Christian and pre-Christian traditions got well mixed over the centuries. As an optimist, I can't help but believe that whatever set of beliefs we align with, traditions like this can affect us in very positive ways and are worth preserving, reviving and bringing forward with us through the generations. 
making soul cakes
It is a stretch to say that this tradition, alone, is the origin of trick or treating. Britain, Ireland and many other parts of Europe have a rich tradition of mumming and guising from house to house, which runs especially through the cold and dark part of the year. Wren boys, wassailing, the Mari Lwyd ... if you are really interested, start by Googling those - you will be amazed.

Last weekend I was reading cards at a local holistic fair. On the second day I arrived with little time to spare before the hall opened, to find a number of the readers and vendors standing around outside while one kind soul generously smudged all who were so inclined with sage smoke. It was a nice moment of spontaneous community. As I stood waiting my turn there was a little laughing and joking, and before I could stop myself, I had burst into a chorus of a soul cake song from Cheshire.


A soul cake, a soul cake!
Please, good missus a soul cake!
An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry.
Any old thing to make us all merry.


And I added in a verse that felt good to me:

One for the maiden, one for the mum,
One for the crone and then we're done!


Then I sang the verse about Peter and Paul, too.

If you'd like to hear a really nice version of a Cheshire souling song sung by Kate and Corwen of Ancient Music, click on the picture above. And may all your souls and soul cakes rise!


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The Voyage of Bran and the Joy of Illusion

30/10/2012

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Manannán mac Lir - a great master of illusion has much to teach us!

Picture
Yesterday evening I listened to an amazing recording by the poet, musician and story teller Robin Williamson. His telling of  The Voyage of Bran. (His rendering of the poetry is better than Meyer's which I have quoted below, since it's in the public domain.) Within this tale is an extraordinary passage illustrating aspects of illusion and perceived reality, as only poetry can. Bran and his men are crossing the sea in their coracle (a light boat) when they encounter Manannán mac Lir (God of the Sea) driving toward them over the water in his chariot. He describes to Bran their surroundings, which, although they are looking on one another and conversing, is entirely different than the view which Bran and his men see from their boat.

Bran deems it a marvellous beauty
In his coracle across the clear sea:
While to me in my chariot from afar
It is a flowery plain on which he rides about.

Sea-horses glisten in summer
As far as Bran has stretched his glance:
Rivers pour forth a stream of honey
In the land of Manannán mac Lir.

Speckled salmon leap from the womb
Of the white sea, on which thou lookest:
They are calves, they are coloured lambs
With friendliness, without harm for the other.

Along the top of a wood has swum
Thy coracle across ridges,
There is a wood of beautiful fruit
Under the prow of thy little skiff.

Bran and Manannan
The Voyage of Bran from a tapestry by Terry Dunne
I  found this passage very exciting. Imagine these two "realities" coexisting in the same time and place! Where one individual sails on water, the other drives his chariot across a beautiful landscape. So how is this possible? Which is the true reality? Neither or both. Reality is perceived. Does this make it illusion? Perhaps, but if so, illusion is strong enough to support a boat full of men. Strong enough to support a horse and chariot. As I listened to Robin Williamson describe this illusion-reality riddle I found myself laughing. Filled with joy and wonder.

How frightened we are to loose our grip on our perceived reality! How fearful of finding our coracle aground, or of drowning ourselves in our chariot. So careful are we to hold fast to the mundane, repetitive din and jostle we call reality, that we rarely glimpse the other realities that lie amongst it. The other realities we may also touch, and know - in silence, in nature, in simple awareness, in moments of thoughtless being. Some would argue that most of us are asleep when we believe we are awake and "living". We are sleepwalking through a reality made up of digital images, shopping, competition, empty talk and short term gratification; when all the while another reality of nature, oneness, and quiet knowing also surrounds us.  

For me, moments of glimpsing the riddle of illusion and reality are often the most illuminating and also the most fun. I am always refreshed when I am plunged into that which lies beyond the mundane. When I am reminded that the grinding "reality" that describes my current struggle is only as fluid or as solid as belief makes it.

This is part of why I find joy in using my cards. As I stand in my boat and ponder the image before me, I am always delighted to see things differently. How easily I am shown that

"There is a wood of beautiful fruit
Under the prow of my little skiff."


where I thought there was only water. This is the joy of the riddle, of the illusion and the moment of insight. Words like "meditation", "divination" and "enlightenment" sound so heavy and serious. Like hard work, or something slightly perilous from which we might not find the way back. More often they are the best parts of life. Burdens are lifted from us and we become light and happy.

Manannán mac Lir offered the purest of gifts to Bran that day on the sea. The playful joy of the riddle of reality and illusion. Is this just a metaphysical plaything? A glittering but useless toy? Well, as things worked out for Bran, he was not going to be able to safely land his coracle on Erin again. In some versions of the story, he meets his end after doing so, but in the oldest versions, we are told that it is one of Bran's men, Nechtán, who is "overcome with homesickness" and upon stepping from the coracle onto the shore, crumbles to ash (for in what seemed a few months journeying, they had been away for many hundreds of years). So it seems to me that the insights given to Bran by Manannán mac Lir will have strengthened him against both homesickness and helped him to see that the sea which might now be his permanent home was also a land of fruit, forests and green pastures. Something he would not otherwise have guessed.

Again, this is part of the riddle of reading cards, or gaining wisdom from nature, myth or any other well of wisdom. An insight here, a reassurance there and sometimes a moment of joy and wonder that changes everything.

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Quotes based on the Kuno Meyer translation of 1895 which is available at this link - http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/vob/vob02.htm

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Hunter's Moon

29/10/2012

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Tonight is the full Hunter's Moon. With it's close proximity to Samhuinn this year I would say it is a perfect time to make use of the thinning veil between the worlds. Send your ancestors some extra love and gratitude!

Hunter's Moon
The Hunters Moon by Clyde Aspevig

In my work with ancestors I am aware of three groups, which are not really separated, but by thinking of each group, the work feels more rounded and inclusive. There are ancestors of place. We may not be related to these ancestors by blood or by culture, but they walked the same patch of earth we now walk, maybe even lived in the same houses and had the same sacred places, depending on how far back we go. Often they understood better than we do how to live in harmony with the environment they found themselves in. They have much wisdom to offer us about how we fit into our immediate ecosystems and about how to live in harmony with the land spiritually and physically, if we will listen.

I use the word kin, rather than blood, to describe family ancestors. Adoptions, fosterings, marriages and remarriages create important kinship ties - and this isn't a new phenomenon, it has always been so. If we have a deep sense of someone being in the family, then they are our kin. Conversely, it is also entirely possible that blood ancestors we never knew in this world may take an interest in us. So be open when working with this group - where so much love is shared.
 
Ancestors of our heritage or culture is more difficult to define. Increasingly in the modern world people may feel that they have lost track of their cultural heritage, or may feel drawn to align themselves with a particular culture and exclude others.  We each have to find our own way with this, and strike a balance between honouring the past and present cultures of our region, or our bloodlines or those to which we feel drawn, while remaining true to who we are. The first two groups of ancestors can offer us much wisdom on these things, if we listen.

I am offering readings on ancestral wisdom over the coming week, so message me if this interests you. However, there is much you can do, yourself, to honour these groups and be open to their messages.


- Kris


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Walking Away 

23/10/2012

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I did a lot of thinking and preparation in trying to understand whether offering special readings for Samhuinn was the right thing. Dealing with my most recent ancestors was just part of it.

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As Samhuinn approaches (that's the Scottish Gaelic spelling) we are encouraged to think about our departed loved ones, and our ancestors - and I do. I think about them often, anyway. However, I've never been a visitor of graves. My strong belief is that this is probably the last place I am going to find my departed loved ones. I've lived about five miles from my parents graves for the past few years, but I never went there - until yesterday.

I suddenly took a notion. I showered and put on clean clothes. I gathered up some bread I'd baked, some spring water, some fruit juice and a poem I'd written, got in the truck and went.  Finding the cemetery was easy but I had no idea where to find the grave. I remembered my father saying more than once that he didn't want to be buried on this dry, lonely and desolate hill. My cousin said there was a "simple stone, nothing fancy". Fortunately, it's a small place. I thought I would find it by instinct, but that didn't work, so I started methodically up and down the rows. I grew up in this tiny town. There were a lot of names I knew, quite a lot of people I knew as a child, too. I'd stop and try to picture them in my mind. The place was a bit overgrown and I was a little anxious about missing the stone. My socks got full of prickly tumbleweed thorns. I walked and walked, up and down the rows of the dead. Not another living soul was about, which suited me fine.

Some of the graves were well tended, some less so. A few were quirky. Some were overgrown and others were absolute shrines to what seemed like a prideful grief. I pondered on the question of whether a well-tended grave honoured the dead or merely served as a statement of propriety by the living. If the dead live on, I believe it is in telling their stories to future generations or in making use of the legacy of wisdom, love and material possessions they leave us.

Finally, I turned a corner and there it was. Now what? I had planned a simple ritual in my mind. I said an informal hello and chatted briefly. I read my poem. There was no applause. I took out the bread, broke some off and put it near the stone - which turned out to be fairly substantial and "fancy" by my standards. I poured some juice into the quaich I'd brought with me, splashed some out, drank some, and again with the water. I ate some bread, too, and cast some to the four directions. I asked to be given more wisdom. I tried to think suitable thoughts. One stone, one grave, for the two of them. How did I feel about that? They didn't really get along too well, but they stayed together - so why not?

I hung around for awhile. The view was magnificent, in spite of my father's remarks. I knew that he would have preferred to have been buried next to his kin, back in the green, rolling hills of eastern Kansas. Would it have mattered? I had a little twinge of longing to go to that place and see it. I imagined the road trip that would be! Well, time to go. To be honest, I hadn't felt much. Maybe a little pompous at my own ritual. My family. It was what it was, and I've learned to appreciate it for the good and understand the not-so-good as best I can.

It was only as I was getting back near my car that I felt a bit emotional. Walking away was hard. Then I realised - walking away from a grave is nothing, when the person lives on in your thoughts.

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Yes, I read for animals, too!

13/10/2012

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I just finished creating a meditation card based on a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

    "We ask for long life, but 'tis deep life, or noble moments that signify. Let the measure of time be spiritual,  not mechanical."

Farquharson
In the meditation we are invited to review our day and think about the moments which felt most noble and deep to us.  There is no right or wrong in deciding which are the noble moments in life, and which are mechanical. Many activities could fall into either category, depending on the spirit we bring to them in the moment. I know that for me, most of my deep and noble moments involve either nature, spiritual practice or relationships.





                                                              "The Sun Had Closed the Winter's Day" by Joseph Farquharson
                                                                              A noble moment, surely, for both shepherd and sheep - and the dog!


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Among the relationships I really value in life are my relationships with animals. I have horses, cats and a dog - and while I'm not the kind of person who says "I prefer animals to people", I suppose I put humans and animals I'm close to on a pretty equal footing. Of course, relationships of any kind can be hard work. They require a good deal of partnership, mutual respect and compromise if they are to be a true joy to both parties. From the human viewpoint, we need to understand that just as with human relationships, love alone isn't always enough (or love and food!).

In human relationships, we understand that each individual is unique, with their own dreams and their own particular needs. That's true with animals, too, but what humans often miss is the importance of the needs of different species. We can understand pretty easily that Prince is frightened of strangers, that Fluffy is argumentative or that Blackie is kind of lazy. What we as humans fail to make sense of is that cats, ponies and parrots are each hard wired by thousands of years of genetics to respond to their fear of strangers in a way unique to their species, or to have an argument for entirely different reasons!

I love reading books on how wild animals live, and books by those animal training gurus who understand that the key to unlocking the minds of our domestic pets often lies in knowing what motivates their wild counterparts.  I would encourage everyone who is around animals to delve into this stuff. There is a lot to learn. However, it isn't always easy. The experts rarely agree on the best way to house train cats or teach mice to do tricks, or what motivates wild wolves to accept a new pack leader.  Even if they did, as humans we find it difficult to step outside our human perception of our animals as human children. We are seriously challenged when we try to think and behave more like a wise mustang or an Alpha wolf. 

We can gain so much wisdom from nature that it's always worth trying to understand how our animal friends need to be treated through that filter, but sometimes the things animals do - or won't do - can be very perplexing, frustrating and even downright dangerous. If you've bothered to read this far, I'm pretty sure that sometime in your life you've lost sleep over animal behaviour, or struggled to progress in your relationships with certain animals. So maybe this is where I can help you.

My oracle readings are all about going to a deeper level of things. Going beneath the mechanical layers to insight, to feelings or spiritual promptings, to intuition. It works for understanding situations where words fail. It's helpful when we need to see things from a different angle in order to see them at all. Perfect for human-animal relationships. So this summer I decided to experiment, and did a number of free readings for people and their animal friends. Based on the feedback, I'd say it was a success - but verbal feedback is of little use when working with animals.

However, I can tell you that -
- one German Shepherd is now enjoying dog agility with a lady who hadn't seen that coming!
- another lady discovered that her beloved cat wasn't aloof, just meditating on the wonder of their lives together.
- and a young mare is finally being happily ridden out by her owner into the beautiful wide world.

To arrange a reading, or ask a question, you can send me a message here.
~ Kris


If you enjoyed this note you might also like Wild Child?

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