The Seeking Brigid Pilgrimage takes place from July 11th through July 18th, 2012, and is open to everyone over the age of 18 who is interested in writing, poetry, and the arts as a spiritual path. Our focus will be on strengthening our relationships with the Goddess Brigid, patron of poetry, smithcraft, and healing, through visiting her sacred places, engaging in creation of poetry, song, chant, and writing, and through meditation and dream incubation. We will undertake deep workings to unlock the power of imbas within us — the sacred poetic inspiration that flows from the Otherworldly Well of Wisdom and into the upturned vessels of musicians, poets, writers, and all who express the sacred through the arts.

Registration is now open for the Seeking Brigid: Sacred Well, Holy Flame 2012 Pilgrimage to Ireland, presented by the Sisterhood of Avalon. For more information and a registration packet, please contact our pilgrimage coordinator. There are only 12 spots available, so if you feel called to make this journey with us, please don’t delay in claiming a space. We hope you will be able to join us on this exciting journey of the spirit!

There are many Neo-Pagan paths which are inspired by, or attempt to reconstruct, the Druidic path in particular and aspects of Celtic religious practices in general. Not much is known about what the Celts believed or what the Druids knew, in no small part because they – while not illiterate – chose not to write any of these things down. The Sisterhood of Avalon shares in common the same source materials that other Celtic Pagans and modern Druids use to inform their work. However, our focus is on Celtic Women’s Mysteries as represented by these ancient groups of women who chose to live set apart from men. We are interested both in remembering the lives and practices of these ancient women, as well as in reclaiming and renewing their wisdoms – both literally and metaphorically – in a way that is relevant and transformative for the women of today.

While the majority of modern Pagan paths are mixed gender, and those that are Wiccan-based embrace an ethic of Balance as manifested in the honoring of the Goddess and the God, we believe there is also a place for Gender Mysteries – and indeed, in many ancient cultures, gender-specific temples were the norm, not the exception. We realize that there are men who are drawn to the Avalonian Tradition, and it is both to honor these ancient communities of women, as well as the soul process of modern men, that only women are able to join the SOA. For men who wish to walk this path, I will say that many of the techniques and tools presented in my book  Avalon Within will certainly be accessible to you, and will go a long way in your personal work and in your quest for the Holy Isle. However, I do think that the nature of this journey is different for men and women.

Women are the Guardians and Bearers of the Cauldron of Rebirth or Grail, while men must embark upon a Quest for the Holy Vessel and be renewed by drinking its transformational elixir. This difference defines, in my opinion, the reason that the path for women and men who choose to engage in Gender Mysteries are separate – different, yet equal. Looking at the mythos and meaning of the Quest for the Cauldron, as seen, for example, in the ancient Welsh poem Prieddu Annwn, from a depth psychology perspective, we see that women find the Divine when they acknowledge their inner Sovereignty and come to honor their innate wisdom, while men must seek the Divine Feminine to heal their inner landscapes and revitalize the Wounded King within them – that essence of Divine Masculine that has been co-opted in the name of power-over, not power with, for so long. As a woman, I can only speak from the perspective of the female experience, and so would never presume to define that experience for a man — though it is my hope that someone will, and will share that path with other men who are drawn to walk this sacred path.

Image by E. Wallcousins, 1912. “In Caer Pedryvan, four its revolutions; In the first word from the cauldron when spoken, From the breath of nine maidens it was gently warmed”.

So, you have come…

Many have walked this road before you – oh yes! The journey has become more perilous over time and the way has become dark and tangled. Fear has a way of turning shadow into monsters – yet I remain, unchanged. Heh heh, yes… the look on some faces! I know not what they think they see when they peer beneath My hood and into My eyes. For there is only the truth reflected there – only the truth.

And here you are – come to look into My Cauldron, yes?  Ahh – but with such knowledge comes a price, My dear. Are you prepared for that which lies within?

Let me tell you a story – yes, a tale ages old, almost beyond human memory. It was easier then, to walk through these woods. Once, a boy came to Me and asked to learn My ways. I chuckled to Myself and I led him to My home.

I set him about, doing this chore and that. But the lad, Gwion Bach, was impatient to learn the mysteries, and was at My side always, constantly questioning. He had not yet learned that that nature of revelation was not in the speaking but in the quiet seeking. I aimed to teach him patience, and set before him a task – and a test.

Now, I have many children, but one in particular was born with a visage most found horrifying – a face only the Mother could love, I’d say. Avagddu was his name, and I set out to make for him a concoction that would more than compensate for his lack of beauty. Beauty was the providence of his sister Creirwy, for she had already tasted of My Cauldron’s bounty. Yes, quite a brew I made for him – a distillation of all the Knowledge and Wisdom of the Universe – the Graal. The recipe? Well … A brew like this can only come from the Soul transformed, and no two batches taste the same, I can tell you.

"Ceridwen" by Christopher Williams (1910)

Such a working is not undertaken and completed in a day’s time. For a year and a day it required constant stirring. When I was not at the task, it was Gwion whom I set beside the Cauldron with a long handled spoon in hand. Thus, I hoped he would learn the value of inner calmness and gain insight by gazing into the mystical vapors of the steaming philter. I made sure that he knew exactly what he was stirring; the soul’s mettle needs to be tempered by such lessons. What, indeed, was this boy made of?

So it came to pass that, at last, the time of the brewing was ending. Only a few precious drops of the liquid remained – and there was Gwion, working diligently as he had for a year. With one day left and needing My rest, I retired for the night, leaving the boy alone by the fire. As I went to my slumber, I knew of Gwion’s restlessness, but I had hope that he would overcome his Shadow nature.

Oh, the dance that followed!

Gwion had had quite enough. As soon as my eyes were closed – as soon as the eye of the Moon turned its sight to Within – the elixir was complete. Looking this way and that, the boy brought the three drops remaining in the cavernous depths of My Cauldron to his lips – taking what should not have been his. Immediately, My eyes flew open. Immediately Gwion, filled with All Knowledge, knew what he had done – but it was too late. The Cauldron burst and spilled its poisoned dregs, extinguishing the flames and befouling my hearth.

The boy ran from My home, aware that I was in pursuit. No one may partake of My Cauldron unprepared — true wisdom comes only to those who have earned it. The time had come for him to prove his worth. My, though he led me on a merry chase!

He dashed down a path of rich Earth, changing his form to that of a hare. I, as a greyhound, pursued him – challenging him to demonstrate his mastery. He leaped into the Waters as a silver salmon, seeking to escape Me, yet I was no stranger to this game. As an otter I almost snared him when he vaulted himself high into the Air. A swift wren arced across the sky, yet as a sharp-taloned hawk, I was closing the distance between us. Seeking to escape, he fell to the ground – a drop of Fiery sunlight, lost among the grains on the winnowing floor. I smiled inwardly as I pecked and I scratched among the chaff and the wheat. A fat little hen, I knew he wasn’t far, and in no time… I devoured him.

Impetuous Gwion was gone. He had entered the greatest of Mysteries – the darkness of the Tomb, the Womb – the Death of Self. It was a difficult lesson he learned, indeed – but no more difficult than any that would know My ways, any who wished to know themselves. There is no short path – but the goal is well worth the effort.

Nine moons later, I gave birth to yet another child – a fair babe with a Shining Brow. The waters of My Womb cast him out into the Sea. ‘Twas Calan Gaeaf, and the veils were thin between the worlds – the infant boy returned again to the world of men. Found in a salmon weir, the transformed Gwion had at last attained his desire – having earned it truly. He grew to be the great bard Taliesin, whose Wisdom inspires humankind to this day.

So come, my dears – but come prepared. It is not easy to see that which brews in My Cauldron. It may call for the death of some part of you, and you may fill it thrice over with your tears, but it is I who will hold you in your darkness, and I who will show you the way to your wisdom. In My eyes you will find the mirror of your soul. Embrace what you see and learn to transform yourself. Enter the depths of My Cauldron …

You will emerge Reborn.

(c) 1996 Jhenah Telyndru. All Rights Reserved.

Look at all of the day-to-day language which supports this tainted concept of the ideals of manhood. Boys are taught to “man up!” … that “big boys don’t cry” … to “grow some balls” … to “not be a sissy” … and countless other paeans to the virtues of macho masculinity. You see, men have been taught that to be a “real man” they cannot express their feelings, or be sensitive to the thoughts and emotions of others. They are supposed to live a testosterone-fueled life, ready to fight or compete, lest they be belittled for acting “like a girl” (oh, the horror!). Consciousness surrounding the damage that this causes in the male psyche has grown, at least in my lifetime, and there has been some progressive parenting that addresses the way to raise boys in a more centered fashion. As the mother of a boy and girl both, I have always let them lead me to their interests: my girl loved Bob the Builder Toys, my boy wants his toe nails painted. Gender roles are a deep and powerful subject, and too big for the purpose of this blog today … But what of the men who are already grown, and whose desire for red sparkly nail polish was beaten out of them as a child? Who has learned to repress his tears — along with the rest of his emotions? Who has learned that being nurturing is the equivalent of being weak? What of these men? What is the true nature of the empowered man — who finds his power from within, rather than in holding power over others?

In the late 80′s and early 90′s, there was the beginnings of the Men’s Movement; many authors and workshops spoke about reclaiming Sacred Masculinity, and men started gathering in men’s groups, many inspired by the works of Robert Bly and Sam Keene. The movement seems to have sputtered out, sadly (although, I would love to know otherwise! Please share your resources in the comments), probably in part because of the mainstream bashing of men going out into the woods together to read “Iron John” and have drum circles.

I am a woman. I cannot speak to the deep, psychological needs of men — nor should I. All I can offer those who inquire of me “what about the men?” is a resource list — and a hope that the Male Mysteries will become a movement once more and continue to grow. The reading list I am sharing here is one that my husband has compiled over the years, and is about 10 years out of date; any groups, books, websites or resources in support of this kind of work are gladly solicited and I will share them here as well.

A Male Mysteries Book List (in no particular order):

• Iron John, by Robert Bly
• A Circle of Men, by Bill Kauth
• The Magician Within, by Moore and Gillette
• The Lover Within, by Moore and Gillette
• The Warrior Within, by Moore and Gillette
• King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine, by Moore and Gillette
• Men and the Water of Life: Initiation and the Tempering of Men, by Michael Meade
• Fire in the Belly, by Sam Keene
• Faces of the Enemy, by Sam Keene
• HisStory, by Nicholas Mann
• The Dark God: Exploring the Male Shadow, by Marcia Stavick
• The Flowering Rod, by Kenny Klein
• Earth God Rising, by Alan Richardson
• To Be a Man, by Keith Thompson
• At My Father’s Wedding: Reclaiming Our True Masculinity, by John Lee
• Men and Friendship, by Stewart Millar
• In the Company of Men, by Marvin Allen

Bendithion Afallon!

Bronze Cauldron from the Llyn Fawr Horde, Wales, Early Iron Age

The folks at NaNoWriMo have some great word count widgets, and I thought it would be fun to post one here:

(Nothing like public accountability, eh? )

Here’s to forming and keeping good (and consistent) daily writing habits! I hope everyone participating is having a great time and feeling good about getting their novels written!

Sheer willpower, obsessive behavior, high octane caffeine … and hopefully, a bit of the poet’s madness.

I am actually quite excited by this challenge. I have been a writer for my entire life, and have been blessed these past 15 years or so to have had the good fortune of being published in various markets and venues. But, like most writers, I write because I need to … even if no one else ever sees it. I’ve got quite a few half-started novels and abandoned short stories on various thumb drives, and they linger there in digital limbo because the majority of what I write these days is academic or non-fiction. However, the seeds of a story came to me last winter — something that has excited and moved me in a way that my other fiction projects have not. Finally, I understand the writers who talk about their characters speaking to them, who observe their stories unfold before their eyes without even needing to prompt it along.  Empowered by the recent publication of my short story “The Gallisenae” in The Scribing Ibis anthology of Pagan Fiction, and encouraged by the fact that my next paper for school isn’t due until the end of January — I feel like the time is right.

The time is now.

For if there is any kryptonite for the writer, it is that story we are going to write in that mythical “someday” … that project that will manifest sometime in the magical future where we will have more time or better circumstances … or that the whole thing will be birthed, full cloth, from our heads like some literary Athena, without the pains of labor or the struggles of birth. These myths keep us from accepting the unvarnished truth:

Writing is *hard* work. And the only way it is going to get done is if we actually *do* it.

I am the type of person who needs hard deadlines. NaNoWriMo provides that for me, even if there are no true consequences  if I do not meet my deadline (unlike school or work) — other than how not finishing is going to make me feel. This is not the first time I’ve attempted NaNo, but in the past 10 years I’ve had at least one child under the age of five at home with me, which had put a cramp in my writing style. This year, both of my kids are in school full time, and with them go all of my excuses.

The time is now.

"The Fool" by Pamela Coleman Smith.

So, I’m stocked up on coffee. I’ve set up my outline and put all of my research in Scrivener (Which is an amazing writing tool and I have no idea how I ever lived without it! I’m *totally* going to survive my dissertation because of this amazing program! I can’t recommend it more!) I’ve warned my friends and family to expect some sort of personality changes (Will it be cathartic weeping? Caffeine-fueled manic euphoria? Bestial growling and snapping? I cannot yet say.) And I’ve posted here and elsewhere about my intention to complete this project in a month — along with everything else I need to do in my life, including, yes, other writing projects — so that you, my gentle reader, provide me with a sense of accountability.

If I do not meet the 50,000 word goal, I will be disappointed — I won’t lie. However, if I have truly done my best and made some serious headway (even 30,000 words is better than ZERO), I won’t beat myself up too badly because in the end, it is the journey that counts. And the fact that I even traveled down the road at all is an accomplishment that brings me far closer to my goal than standing at the starting line, straining to see off in to the distance, hoping I can get there someday without ever taking that first step.

The time is now.

Into the abyss we go…

(FWIW, this blog entry is just over 800 words long, about half of my daily word count goal. That’s eminently do-able! Care to join me?)

It is a true honor to be included in this volume, which features works from so many excellent Pagan authors, from a multitude of paths.

I have two pieces featured in Llewellyn’s Sabbats Almanac: Samhain 2011 to Mabon 2012: “Beltane: Portal of Transformation” and “Between the Worlds – A Beltane Ritual for Divine Inspiration.”

Finally, my essay “Creating Sacred Space” appears in  Llewellyn’s 2012 Witches’ Companion.

Between all of these, and several other writing projects I have in the works, I have been diligently working on completing my master’s degree in Celtic Studies from the University of Wales. I am taking this distance learning program part time, and am currently in the last of my taught modules; next year, I will write my dissertation. This has been an exhilarating experience, which has challenged and deepened my understanding of the Celts and their culture — and required me to write major research papers for each of the five courses I have completed thus far, with one yet to go. My dissertation is expected to be 20,000 words long — so indeed, whether for my degree work or for publication, writing is what I do these days.  And for all of the hair-pulling and long nights when deadlines loom near, I feel blessed and honored for the privilege.