the raven

This is The Raven, the public face of the London Tamesis Seedgroup of the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids.

We meet each month in selected places around London, for meetings, ceremonies, workshops, and walks. If you click on ‘Events’ above, you can see some of the things we are planning for this year.

If you’re interested in coming to any of our events, please contact Cilla for details. Her address is “cilla at theraven dot org dot uk”.

We look forward to meeting you.

On 10th February several of us went down to Chiswick to explore the eyot there (an eyot is an island sometimes washed over at high tide). It was a magical day when we were able to make deeper connection with the river that gives our group its name. A day of sun and soft air and a strong sense of the other worlds and entities that surround us; of ourselves as eternal spiritual beings. A day of willow and mud; of seabirds and the power of the tide mingling salt and fresh water. Here is the invocation we performed at the water’s edge:

Lady of the glittering water
Lady of the sculpted, shining mud banks
Lady of the tidal reaches

On whose breast the seagulls rest
In whose lymph the salmon swim
Through whose skies the heron flies

Whose open arms yield up the sun each day

Tolerate our human footfall
Grant us safe passage
Show us your will

In the name of all that is fair and free we ask these things.

Awen

In Liz’s cozy flat, warmed by various flavours of tea, and held in a sacred circle of Brighid’s Awen, six of us shared words that bear deep meaning for each of us. The words we read gently interwove with our conversation, and before long we discovered that we each came to druidry looking for something similar. All of us longed for that feeling of unity with nature and all things, and felt that druidry helped us find it.

The tone was set by a poem my friend Josephine wrote after spending the night in the forest on the Living Druidry course:

Forest night

Silhouettes, stars and a sliver of Moon
Lying on Earth’s dark mud amongst the bluebells spent
What am I, so large, so small, so vulnerable?

Do I belong here amongst the furry ones
The crawling ones
The flying ones?

Am I fear or thought or chaos or am I merged without edges
Pulsing with life and breath and heart beat?
Blissful, peaceful oneness accepted and protected

Melted and blended without separation
Can I hold this? Be this? Or is it just memory
From a time beyond time when I was
A furry one
A crawling one
A flying one?

As well as a longing for unity, all the writings shared a strong connection with landscape. Liz read us a poem she wrote after a spending a week working with herbs at Cae Mabon. Her words powerfully evoked that landscape, and its indwelling spirit of beauty and abundance.

Mike shared a chapter of his book with us. It, too, evoked a landscape, but this time it was a landscape of sorrow from the time that conflict and evil first came to the peaceful world of elves. We really enjoyed his story of a mother searching for her son and finding the cause of her grief. We felt really privileged to be able to hear this story. I hope to read all of the Twilight Wars one of these days.

As we talked and listened, we started to share more of ourselves, and of our connection with the land and its people. We talked about how we look for connection in our city landscapes and our city communities. We shared how we live our druidry, as bards, as seekers, and as bringers of peace.

We finished the afternoon with more tea and Liz’s delicious home made cake, which was still slightly warm. I was sorry to have to leave early, breaking the magical circle of poetry that had drawn us close together.

Thank you, Liz, for a beautiful and gentle afternoon.

For anyone interested, here is a link to the prose poem I read, and everything about its author: The Place Where You Go to Listen by John Luther Adams
And Liz, would you consider sharing your poem with us here?

This is one of the current exhibitions at the Royal Academy at the moment. If you’re interested in the antiquarian investigation of Druidic (Neolithic, Bronze Age, Iron Age remains) it’s worth a visit. I went today and really enjoyed it – so much so that I bought the catalogue. There’s a whole section on Stonehenge including a picture from the 12th Century Roman de Brut by Wace showing Merlin casually lifting one of the sarsen stones to transport it from Ireland (Wace’s take on the origin of Stonehenge) to Wiltshire. There are portraits of famous antiquaries including Stukely and plans of Avebury. There are lots of interesting pictures of old buildings in London and grave goods of gold and amber. Not to mention a Roman cavalry helmet with the face of a god for a visor. I know we don’t like the Romans but this is breathtaking.

Highly recommended for the intelligent and aesthetically inclined Druid.

I arrived at Sydenham Hill railway station to find Greg, Cilla and the organisers, Lorraine and Daniel sitting on a bench under some impressive trees. We were joined by a new arrival, Moya, and while waiting for others we adjourned across the road to introduce ourselves to Moya and discuss our feelings about the autumn at this point in the year when the days and nights are momentarily in balance.

We had to wait a while as first Chris, then Hilde, and finally after an epic drive through South London, Jo and Mike joined us. But it was a beautiful day with golden berries and green leaves.

Then it was into the Dulwich Woods, past a pagan offering hanging from a bough. The trees quickly became dense and we had to clamber over a couple of fallen trees on the way to the glade that Lorraine and Daniel had selected for the ceremony.

It was a simple but thought provoking rite in which we were able to acknowledge the positive aspects of autumn as well as the sense of depression and loss that some of us felt as the darker days approached. I’d brought some hazel nuts from my parents’ garden and the ears of corn I had gathered at West Kennet earlier in the summer around Lughnasadh. These we put in the centre of the circle. We stood under an oak tree as we had done at Midsummer. As we celebrated the season together the squirrels scampered through the branches and a robin flitted restlessly from ground to holly bush. Clearly we had invaded its territory. At intervals, showers of acorns fell down around us though whether this was the oak celebrating or rejecting our presence was impossible to say. It felt to me like a blessing.

I had passed into that time outside of time which rituals induce when I heard the words “It is the hour of recall.” So soon ?

Afterwards we ate and drank (no mead alas) and Lorraine and I read a couple of poems. And then some of us went up the hill to the pub…

What does following a Druidic path mean to you ?

For the next seedgroup meeting you are invited to bring a poem or two (not too long obviously – the whole of ‘The Ancient Mariner’ won’t be allowed) that expresses in some way what is important to you about druidry in general and/or OBOD in particular.

“Poetry” can be interpreted as widely as you like and could include prose. It can be something you’ve written yourself or a published piece from someone (anyone) else. You need to be prepared to give a brief explanation of why you have chosen this particular piece though if you don’t want to read it out yourself you can ask someone else to do it.

Meeting date is 13th October (Saturday) at my flat (188 Lyndhurst Road, N22 5AU). Nearest tube is Wood Green. Nearest overground is Bounds Green. Start time 3pm.

My contact numbers are 02088887490 (landline) and 07949620809 (mobile)

Can you let me know if you hope to come.

Bring something to eat and we’ll have a Druidic high tea during the afternoon. Note later start time – thought it might help people to have a little more time to get their Saturday chores done in the all too apparent world.

Autumn blessings,

Liz

Once upon a time, in a teeming metropolis, there lived a wise woman who was learning the craft of the Ovate. One day she left her home, travelling far and wide to attend a great gathering of storytellers. Whilst she was there, she met a Bard of great skill. She looked at him, he looked back at her, and they recognised one another, for both of them were from the seedgroup called Tamesis. They talked, listened and learned all they could from this gathering of bards. Inspired, they decided to call a meeting of the tribe upon their return, so that they might pass on the tales of wonder and mystery. And so the cycle began anew. From all sides of the great city, seekers of the art of storytelling came to gather by the hearth and listen…

I came to this meeting without having the slightest inclination to learn how to tell a story, but with a certain curiosity about the mechanics of how stories are created. At the start of the meeting we heard a short extract from an OBOD podcast where Philip Carr-Gomm talks about the way we are often starved of the mystery and healing potential of stories, in the typical 21st century culture surrounding us. If anyone who missed the meeting would like to hear the extract, all the podcasts are linked from the main OBOD homepage, http://www.druidry.org

Mark H played his flute, then told us a tale from the isle of Skye, about two young lovers who could not bear to be parted, even by death. Though I’d read tales that weren’t so dissimilar before, it didn’t matter. Hearing the story told, rather than reading it, added an extra dimension, and I found myself quite moved by the ending. Yet the rest of us were not just here to be an appreciative audience, for next we were given a task. We learned how to memorise a tale by making a story stick, (in both meanings of the word – you decorate a wooden stick in order to aid your memory, making the story ‘stick’ in your mind). Sticks were at the ready beside the hearth, and Liz brought out an array of items such as material scraps, feathers, paper clips, pipe cleaners, embroidery thread and buttons. It was a cache to give any magpie hours of fun, or in our case, everything we needed to create our story sticks.

We got to work, although play might be a better way of describing it. Each section of the story was represented by something we added to the stick. For example, the story began by describing a skilled hunter. We might choose to memorise this section by fashioning a little bow and arrow to attach to the stick, or wool to represent the animals he hunted, or anything else which would remind us of his occupation. Some of us chose to make sticks for the story Mark had told us, whilst a few others decided to work on other stories. One by one, we told the others all about the sticks we had created. It was fascinating to see the diversity of ideas, even with those sticks which represented the same story. It was not just that we used different materials to describe the same events. Our interpretations and emphases on certain parts of the story varied somewhat too, making each stick unique. The exercise underlined the point that a story which is spoken rather than written down is something dynamic. We derive our own meaning from the story, and even the same story told by the same storyteller will never be told in quite the same way another time.

Another technique for memorising stories was to make a drawing of a character, or even a feature of the landscape, describing what happened to them over the course of the story. We didn’t try this technique out, but it sounded like it could be useful both for people who are learning stories and for those who wish to write new stories from scratch.

Just as there was a story at the beginning of the meeting, there was another at the end, and this time Liz was our storyteller. Another tale from Skye, this time about a girl who gets lost whilst she is gathering berries. Help comes in the form of deer who guide her to meet the makers of dreams. As with the previous story, it was rich in symbolism relating to animals and the natural world. I loved the idea of birds taking all the symbols of dreams away in order to tuck under our eyelids, with the birds of good omen bringing happy dreams, the birds of ill omen bringing nightmares, although corvids always seem to get a bad rap!

Thanks Mark and Liz for such an enjoyable meeting.

Kym and I will be waiting at the Woodman pub (414 Archway Road, N6) at 2pm on Saturday 11th August so that we can gather prior to going into Queen’s Wood (or should that be Queens’ Wood ?) for our Lughnasadh ceremony.

Nearest tube Highgate.

Bring anything that seems appropriate to the season, easily portable musical instruments, food to share afterwards, but most importantly, yourselves.

Blessings of the first harvest,

Liz