I haven’t been keeping up well with my morning devotions for a while, and I’ve been ignoring them completely for over a week. The winter is problematic for me, physically and mentally, and I tend to withdraw and do ‘indoor work’ for a while – magic by candlelight, inner journeying, all that good stuff. But there comes a time, towards the end of winter, when land, sea and sky call to my soul, and part of me wants to be back out there in the Land.
But the temptation to stay in the dark is overwhelming. It’s just me and my gods and any spirits willing to come in. It’s a Dark Flame thing, and it’s safe.
This morning I dragged myself out of bed at a semi-reasonable hour, determined to do the Morning Devotion liturgy from the SDF site. I made myself a cup of tea to help encourage me. The sun was rising and it was looking to be a fairly bright morning.
I felt like someone was quite happy with the mead that I poured as an offering, and I ended up spending longer at my shrine than I expected to. I kept being drawn to what was going on outside my window, though, and periodically I looked up to see what was going on out there.
The fog rolled in so fast that I got very excited and eventually I had to go and stand out in it (in bare feet and without a coat, so that didn’t last long). Outside, everything was silent. Muffled. A crow in a tree to the left. Two gulls overhead. Frost coating the rooftops. The world holding its breath, speaking in whispers. Waiting.
This evening I went to the cemetery just over the road from the park, the one that I’m trying to get to once or twice a week. ADF has us connecting with the world around us at least once per week, and I knew that, to stand any chance of doing that, it needed to be on an ‘urban druidry’ basis. Getting anywhere on foot is a challenge for me, but I’d rather go to the quiet, unobtrusive centre of my little community than get into a metal box and shout at traffic all the way to somewhere more classically beautiful. And who else stops to talk to the land spirits here?
If I can get to the park, I can sometimes get a bit further, and today I made it to the cemetery. There’s an oak tree and lots of holly there, and squirrels and birds, and crossroads, and ancestors of place. And most of the time I get it entirely to myself. (Although I felt like I was being watched by curious folks tonight. Just not by people.)
The world is turning, and on cue, I remember again that my gods are out in the land. And now, as with every spring for the past few years, I have to find creative ways to get out and meet them there. Although really, it’s more like we meet each other half way. My body is a clunky thing, but life is everywhere. Urban druidry may not be all as romantic as long walks in the hills and sleeping in forests and the other mad things you non-disabled druidy-types do, but I find my way.
And anyway, with all of you off out in the hills, who’s going to be left to talk to the spirits in the little park?
Enjoy yourselves out there. I’ll be here, watching, as the mist rolls away.