Celebrating Beltane in Lockdown

Beltane is traditionally celebrated with maypoles and bonfires, feasts and festivities. As the festival which marks the beginning of summer, it's natural to want to spend it outdoors in company with friends and family - yet this year that won't be possible for many of us. The current Coronavirus lockdown means that gathering with coven mates, friends and family just isn't possible right now, so we're going to have to adapt the way we mark the festivals - at least for a little while. But with a little ingenuity we can come up with novel - and safe - ways of celebrating.

First, have a little brainstorming session with those you'd celebrate Beltane with normally - you can do this by phone, text, email, Skype, Zoom etc if you do not live in the same household - and see what amazing ideas you can come up with together. If you are a solitary Pagan, you can Google for ideas as well as taking inspiration from this post. 

Secondly, skim through the ideas I have come up with and see if any of them appeal - or you can use them to kick-start creativity and come up with your own plan. I have grouped them according to your situation - so there are ideas for those of you who can get out into nature, ideas for those who are in a town but have a garden or accessible green space, and finally ideas for those who are confined to their living space.

If you can get out to the countryside/park for a walk:

• One traditional Beltane activity was to gather mayflowers (hawthorn blossom). While on your walk, see if you can spot some mayflowers and pick a small bunch (careful of those thorns!) to bring home with you. It's considered bad luck to bring mayflowers indoors, but the exception is at Beltane. Or you can do like I do and hedge your bets by tying the bunch of flowers to the front door of your house as a Beltane blessing. You'll probably need secateurs or scissors to cut the woody stems, so take some with you.
• If you take an early morning walk, wash your face in the Beltane dew - traditionally believed to be a foolproof beauty treatment! 
• If you have bluebell woods near you, this is the perfect time to take a walk and soak in all that beauty. I can't imagine a more sacred activity!
• If you're confident of your plant identification skills, this is a great time of year to forage for wild garlic, nettles, sorrel, jack-by-the-hedge etc. Keep your eyes peeled for hedgerow delicacies on your walk and cook up a seasonal gourmet feast to celebrate Beltane when you get home. 

If you are in a town, but have access to a garden or other green space:
Depending on what is in your garden or green space you may be able to gather mayflowers, forage some wild delicacies or wash your face in the morning dew, as above! But here are some other ideas you could try too.

• Draw a labyrinth on the lawn/patio/decking big enough to walk (for a classic 7-walled Cretan labyrinth - my preferred version - you will need a space which is a minimum of 9'x9'; if you have more space, so much the better). You can mark out a temporary labyrinth using flour, sand or masking tape. If you like it you could make it a permanent feature by using rocks, bricks etc, or mow it into the lawn. There is a clear tutorial on how to draw and use labyrinths on the blog of my friend and mentor Donald Engstrom-Reese here, and there is a wealth of information on Sig Lonegren's website here.
• If you have enough room to pitch a tent in the garden, why not camp out overnight on Beltane eve. Toast marshmallows over a campfire, stargaze, then get up to greet the first light on Beltane morning, revelling in the dawn chorus of birdsong.
• Beltane is one of the times of year most strongly associated with faeries. You could celebrate Beltane by leaving offerings for them in your garden - it is said they are fond of bread, cake, honey, beer, wine and cream. Or you could plant up an area of the garden as a faery garden with flowers they are said to be particularly fond of such as foxgloves, violets, thyme and clover, and pretty sparkly decorations like sun-catchers and wind-chimes (bear in mind they strongly dislike iron).

If you cannot get outside to celebrate Beltane:

• Use Skype, Zoom etc to connect with Pagan friends and share Beltane blessings. You may be able to organise an online Beltane ritual together, or plan a visualisation or spell you can each do separately at a co-ordinated time and then check back in with each other later to check how it went for everyone. 
• Many well-known Pagans are offering on-line meditations and rituals you can join, so check out the websites and Facebook pages of your favourite Pagan leaders/writers/etc to see what is on offer. 
• Beltane is all about pleasure, beauty and love, so show yourself a bit of self-love and devise a pampering ritual as a way to celebrate. Cleanse in preparation by using your favourite toiletries - have a home-made facial - soak in scented bathwater - use a salt body scrub and moisturise afterwards with your most luxurious body lotion. Dress in your favourite clothes. Clean and tidy your altar. Put fresh flowers on it (if you can). Burn your favourite incense. Prepare your favourite food, and pour a glass of your favourite beverage (springwater? mead? freshly squeezed juice?). Light a candle and sit in front of your altar giving thanks for everything for which you're grateful. Home, health, relationship with deities, loved ones, pets, food on your table, hobbies, favourite books/songs/films, anything which brings you joy... Toast yourself, celebrate yourself with your homemade feast. Remember 'All acts of love and pleasure are my rituals'.
• If you are creative by nature, you could make your own mini-maypole as an altar decoration. Check out Pinterest for more inspiration.

In conclusion, with a little ingenuity and adaptation we can still celebrate the Wheel of the Year, even if we aren't able to do so in the way we would in more normal times. After all, even in those 'normal times' things don't always go to plan!

Above all, remember: Beltane is a celebration of life. Honour and protect your life and the lives of those around you by observing social distancing and staying home if you can. Blessed Be!

On Finding Grace in Glastonbury

I first visited Glastonbury over 30 years ago, with my then boyfriend. On the way back from a holiday in Cornwall, we visited the Tor - he being a big fan of all things with an Arthurian connection. I was less enthused, especially when confronted with a large hill to climb. Nevertheless, climb it we did. It was a bright, beautiful day in May. When we reached the top of the Tor the landscape spread before us, stretching out in all directions. Swallows swooped low around our feet, chattering joyfully. As the wind whipped my hair I was filled with an ecstatic feeling - anything seemed possible. I wanted to launch myself off into the air and glide with the swallows. That was my introduction to the magic of Glastonbury.

*****

A few years later, my brother and sister, a couple of friends and I went on a camping trip to Glastonbury. The friends were also Pagans - I had in fact discovered the existence of neo-Paganism when I went to their wedding ceremony which (as they were Viking re-enactors) had been described to guests as a 'Viking wedding' but which actually turned out to be a handfasting performed by a member of their coven. I was fascinated and the rest, as they say is history. The camping trip was basically a chance to hang out, drink cider, visit the Tor/Chalice Well and, of course, shop. Back in those days - the late 1980's - it was hard to find Pagan books, magazines, paraphernalia or indeed fellow Pagans. Glastonbury was like a great cornucopia of Pagan goodies just waiting to be explored. We ate in hippy cafes, drank water from Chalice Well, sniffed incense, drooled over books, athames, jewellery, wands, crystals, cauldrons... On that trip I bought two books that made a huge impression on my early explorations of Paganism - 'The Spiral Dance' by Starhawk, and 'The Mists of Avalon' by Marion Zimmer Bradley.

The magic though, happened the first night we were there. After pitching our tents, cooking dinner and imbibing a few drinks, someone said 'Let's climb the Tor!'. Which we all agreed was a great idea. My memory is that we merely scrambled through a hedge and found ourselves at the foot of the Tor - although I'm sure it can't have been that simple. We began to climb in the gathering twilight. The climb was steep but relatively quick (then again I was a lot younger!). We arrived at the top breathless and exuberant, and turned to look back in the direction we had come. The most beautiful full moon, huge, yellow, was just rising. Dumbstruck by magic and beauty we stood in awed silence. We had not planned this, we hadn't even registered that it was a full moon that weekend. Serendipity had led us to this moment. The magic of Glastonbury, again.

*****

Later, Glastonbury became a place of pilgrimage for me. I visited alone and with friends, usually managing at least one trip a year. When our friends Kevin and Ann's children were younger, the group of us spent some memorable camping holidays there. Later, I discovered Avalon Witchcamp (later Avalon Spring) which was usually held a few miles from Glastonbury and my pilgrimages became tied in with an annual visit to Witchcamp.

Then the kids grew up and the camping holidays petered out. Avalon Spring ran its course and came to an end. Life got in the way and trips to Glastonbury became less regular. Until this year, when my friend Suzanne suggested a trip together. And so we agreed to go to Glastonbury...

*****

Thursday, 9th April

From the outset, everything runs smoothly. The weather forecasters warn of changeable conditions, but we have glorious sunshine the whole time. I am delayed leaving home and worry that I'll be late picking Suzanne up from her train at Bristol, but somehow I arrive with 5 minutes to spare and find a parking space right by the station although the car-park is packed. On arrival in Glastonbury we head straight for the wonderful Rainbow's End and treat ourselves to a delicious lunch. Then a bit of retail therapy and on to our B'n'B which is delightful and conveniently located.

Fabulous mask spotted in a shop window

At the B'n'B I make use of the free Wifi to check in with the rest of the world, discovering via Facebook that our friend Naomi is also in town, although leaving tomorrow. We send her a message hoping we can meet up that evening, and also contact my brother Mike (who lives in Somerset) and my friend Becky who has recently moved to Glastonbury.

We don't hear back before going out for dinner to the Who'd a Thought It in Northload Street, but who should walk in just as we are finishing dinner than Naomi! It turns out she isn't leaving until the following afternoon, so we make arrangements to meet on the Tor for a picnic tomorrow.

Friday, 10th April

Up and out bright and early after breakfast to get some goodies for our picnic. Then on to the tranquillity of Chalice Well Gardens, a place that somehow draws me more these days than the Tor. I have visited the gardens more times than I can remember over the years, but today is special. We arrive just as the gardens are opening, and have the place completely to ourselves for a little while. We make straight for the Wellhead at the top of the gardens, often crowded with people. Today it is just the two of us, though posies and candles remain from previous visitors.

We sit in silence, listening to the threads of birdsong weaving around us and the timeless flow of water through the Well; ever constant, ever changing, eternally flowing. Relaxing, I close my eyes, feeling such a sense of peace and healing. Be here now, the place says to me. Healing is here for you, freely given. The source is constant. I often have a hard time accepting gifts, help, kindness, compliments, nurturing from others. I am more comfortable giving these things. But this time, at Chalice Well I am able to relax and accept what is being offered me, and I can feel it sinking into me, my heart, my blood, my bones. Deep healing, long overdue. I know it is OK to relax and accept this gift, so freely given.

After a little while more people begin to appear in the gardens, obviously wanting quiet time of their own at the Wellhead and we move along, back down through the gardens, following the flow of water. I pause at the Lion's Head spout to anoint my third eye, throat and heart with wellwater, then drink a glassful, consciously taking in healing. We sit for a little while under the yew trees by the waterfall, usually my favourite spot, but today I am restless and want to move on. I listen to my inner voice and follow its promptings, which lead me to the Vesica Pool at the bottom of the garden. Usually this is another busy place, but today it is just Suzanne and I sitting on the sun-warmed benches listening to the gentle splash of water, the birdsong and buzz of bees. I soak up the peace, drink in the tranquillity, allow the sense of being healed to pour into me. Time passes. I allow myself to not care, to drop the mantle of responsibility and anxiety and clock-watching and just be here now.  

*****

We climb the Tor by the long, slow, path. I'm not sure which path is hardest, this or the short, intense one further up the lane. Panting, sweating, we stop frequently for breaks. These bodies aren't as young as they once were. Even a little way up though, the views over the town and the Somerset Levels beyond are amazing on this bright spring day. We persist, and as we crest the hill, we are greeted by singing. A young girl with a guitar and a beautiful voice is singing in Spanish in the ruins of St Michael's tower, taking advantage of the acoustics. We sit and listen while we catch our breath, then find a spot on the grass outside for our picnic. The Tor is busy with a constant stream of visitors. Naomi joins us and we talk and laugh and eat and catch up on what we have all been doing. We think it must be at least three years since we were all last together, maybe more. By the time we are finished eating the wind is getting fierce. We gather up the leftovers before they can blow away and make our way back down, the wind lessening as we descend. Children pass us, running up the Tor like mountain goats, and we laugh at their exuberance contrasting with our own more genteel pace.

At the bottom we notice that the White Spring opposite Chalice Well has opened its doors to visitors - an irregular occurrence. We enter the dim chamber, filled with the sound of running water and voices echoing in the dark. Altars have been set up in alcoves, and candles lit. I especially like the altars for Brigid and Gwyn ap Nudd who is said to live under the Tor, and with whom I once had  strange encounter in this very place.

Altar to Gwyn ap Nudd in The White Spring, Glastonbury

We emerge from the subterranean gloom back into dazzling sunlight. It is time to say our goodbyes to Naomi and drag ourselves from the magic of windswept hills and flowing water.

Later that evening we enjoy a lovely meal at La Terre in Glastonbury High Street, and arrange to meet Michael and Becky the next day.

*****

Saturday, 11th April

We have arranged to meet my brother Michael in Crewkerne this morning. The drive down is lovely, winding our way through pretty Somerset villages and open countryside. We get a little lost in Crewkerne itself, but manage to find the car park where we are to meet Michael just as he drives in behind us. We wander through the town to Bilby's coffee shop, where my brother recommends the Somerset Apple Cake with clotted cream. Although it's not that long since breakfast, Suzanne and I give in to temptation and are not disappointed; the cake is delicious and the clotted cream goes with it perfectly. Although we don't have long in Crewkerne - as we are due back in Glastonbury at lunchtime to meet Becky - time seems to stretch to accommodate us and we have a lovely, relaxed visit with Michael and still arrive back in Glastonbury in time to meet Becky and her new baby daughter, Berry.

We meet in Rainbow's End where somehow - Somerset Apple Cake notwithstanding - Suzanne and I manage to eat another yummy lunch. I get to hold Berry, a delightful, happy, relaxed little soul who snoozes happily in my arms while we chat. Becky tells us about her move to Glastonbury and how everything seemed to fall into place once they decided to make the move - I feel a little envious and mentally flirt with the idea of moving to Glastonbury. Would the place still be so magical if it was my everyday? A strange coincidence occurs when we realise the caravan Becky (who does not know Naomi) is telling us about selling as part of her move is the very same caravan Naomi has told us about buying.

After lunch we say our goodbyes to Becky and Berry, and Suzanne and I make a visit to the Glastonbury Goddess Temple. This is another oasis of calm, somewhere I always try to visit when I'm in the town. From the courtyard below, we climb the wooden stairs to the Temple. Inside, there is the smell of incense, soft music and the glow of candles. There are altars and artwork, chairs and soft cushions and rugs to sit on. A temple 'Melissa' is in attendance, sitting quietly and holding the space. I find a place against the lilac coloured wall and sink back into the cushions. Again I feel the sense of being nurtured, healed, held. I relax into it again, and initially tears well up - the tears that come when someone offers unexpected kindness in a time of hardship. But the tears soon dry - perhaps they are the last shred of my resistance to accepting the Grace that is being offered me here in Glastonbury. I sit in contented peace, sometimes with eyes closed, soaking in the calm; sometimes gazing at the flickering candles, the beautiful altar, the other people in the temple (including a crawling baby quietly exploring the world at floor level and a little girl, very intently making a drawing which she later presents as a gift to the Melissa). When we leave, the atmosphere of quiet calm comes with us. 

*****

Sunday, 12th April

On our last morning in Glastonbury, we have a few last visits to make before we begin the return journey home. Firstly, we drive the car up Well House Lane to take one last look at the Tor and say our goodbyes.

Then we turn back into town and make our way to St Margaret's Chapel and the Magdalene Almshouses. Neither of us have visited the Chapel before now, but Becky recommended it to us and we are curious. We arrive before opening and wait in the sunshine for the key holder to arrive. The Chapel and Almshouses are tucked away behind a building at one end of the High Street - easy to miss unless you are looking for them. The Chapel stands at one end of a small, but beautiful garden along one side of which run the Almshouses. As we enter the garden, my eyes are immediately drawn to a beautiful carved wooden finger labyrinth. I drop my bag and begin tracing the winding paths with my index finger.

Halfway round, I become self-conscious. Does the key-holder who has just let us in think I am being disrespectful by ignoring the Chapel and rushing to play with the labyrinth? Should I have stood back and asked Suzanne if she wanted to trace the labyrinth first? Another part of me is saying that this too is sacred, a sacred journey that I should perform mindfully, that I should respect the magic of the labyrinth. But ignoring those thoughts I rush to complete my tracing of the paths. I have reached the centre, no time to pause and reflect, to listen to the labyrinth's message - hurry to trace the return journey, get out of the labyrinth. And then something strange happens. As I wind around the paths, I expect to be led back out of the labyrinth again. After all, labyrinths have only one path which leads into the centre and back out again. And yet... I find my finger has traced me back to the centre again. I wasn't aware of losing my way and yet somehow I have. I smile to myself. I should have listened to the voice telling me to slow down and do this properly, respectfully. I was taught to treat labyrinths with respect and I have failed to do so. The labyrinth is letting me know there is no point in rushing, it is done when it is done - and it is not done yet. I lift my finger from the centre, but consciously accept that I am still 'in' the labyrinth, it is working on me, within me. I surrender to it, accepting what it has to teach me.

Suzanne traces the labyrinth, we wander the garden, explore the Almshouses (one of which has been restored to its original condition - tiny yet serene in its simplicity), and I think what a haven this place must have been to the poor and needy in the days when there was no Welfare safety net for them. We sit for a while in the Chapel, which like Chalice Well Gardens and the Goddess Temple is another place of serenity and I feel the touch of Grace again. I light a candle as an act of gratitude.

And then, sadly it is time to go. I do not want to leave this calm sanctuary, I do not want to leave Glastonbury. And as I am thinking these thoughts, I see - very briefly - two swallows fly overhead and disappear. The first swallows I have seen this year. The sight I have been waiting for so impatiently. The swallows I wrote about wanting to see (strangely enough) on our first night in Glastonbury. To me it is a sign of hope and promise, and a sign that our trip is at an end. It is definitely time to go.

 

Well, almost... there is one final thing to do before I can leave Glastonbury. I take my place back in front of the finger labyrinth. This time, I do it properly. I relax, breathe, and place my finger back in the centre of the labyrinth, where - I notice - a heart is carved. I listen. Do not rush the journey. It is not about reaching the goal, the centre, the prize. It is about the journey. Experience the journey, let it take as long as it takes. Take the time you need for yourself. Accept the gifts that are offered to you. Accept that you are loved and no more or less deserving than anyone else. Learn to accept what is offered. Remember the heart at the centre of the labyrinth. I take another deep breath and trace my way back out of the labyrinth. This time it is easy, effortless, and I find myself exiting more quickly than seems possible. I have left the labyrinth, but I take its message and its spirit with me.

We leave Glastonbury then, and begin our return journeys home, me to Wales, Suzanne to South London. There is much to ponder as I drive back along the motorways that lead me westward. I feel I have been given so much, I have healed wounds I didn't even realise were still sore. Such unexpected magic and serendipity. So much Grace, unlooked for yet gratefully received. 

I think of the heart at the centre of the labyrinth and smile.     

   

*****

If you would like to know more about Glastonbury and its sacred places, this is a great resource. 

Spring Equinox Labyrinth

In a dimly candlelit room fragrant with sage, we walked the labyrinth one by one. Six women, each preparing by silently meditating on those things she wishes to shed from her life, then focussing them into a thread of yarn, to be carried into the labyrinth with her.
When the first was ready she stood by the entrance and was smudged with sage as a cleansing. She began to walk the coiling paths slowly, mindfully, reverently. There is only one way in, and one way out of a labyrinth (unlike the trickster-ish maze with its false leads and dead ends) and yet as the winding paths take you closer in to the centre then further away, then closer, further... you lose track of where you are, where you've been, and relinquish control of the journey to the labyrinth, focussing on the simple magic of one foot in front of another. Then suddenly - and it is always a surprise - you are There. At the centre of the labyrinth, the knife's edge, the place of transformation, mystery, paradox, where inward journey becomes outward journey.

At the centre of our labyrinth was a cauldron, in which to dispose of the 'things we wish to shed' yarn, which would later be burned. There was also a gorgeous Goddess altar with a beautiful Phillipa Bowers statue holding in Her lap an array of gifts for us. These were pretty little sparkly eggs in a rainbow of colours, each mounted on a stick, tied to which was a piece of card with a few words of wisdom from Her.

A few moments to be well and truly rid of the yarn and what it symbolises, some time communing with the Goddess and receiving your gift. And then back retracing your steps around and about the twists and turns, this time focussing on what you would like to draw into your life, what you are thankful for.

One by one we took our turn, and for once I had plenty to put into the cauldron. Money worries, fear, self-doubt, anxiety, dead-end job - I twisted it all almost savagely into my piece of yarn. I was eager to start, sure of myself and what I wanted. But the labyrinth has a strange way of... not so much taking over, but showing you, giving you, what you need. To start with, I was certain that I wanted drumming to accompany my journey, but I forgot to ask for it before I began, and strangely knew almost immediately that actually this was right for me. I needed to make this journey in silence.

I have walked many labyrinths, but on this occasion I found myself stumbling, even though the paths were smooth and easy to walk. My hips were stiff, my ankles felt weak, my back ached, my balance was off. What was wrong? I wanted to make this journey, I wanted to dump this stuff in the cauldron... didn't I?

And that was it, I realised. A part of me was very, very resistant to letting some of this stuff go. I slowed my pace, breathed, focussed. One foot in front of the other. Concentrate on what you're doing.

It came to me that my fear and self-doubt have been there so long, are so deep-rooted that they were not going to leave without a struggle. And some part of me was invested in keeping them there because they give me an excuse to hide, to not try too hard, to not take risks. It may not be a comfortable place to be but it's not as scary as putting yourself out there. I had a mental vision of a big root being pulled out of the soil by great effort and persistence, a root so big and solid that it leaves a hollow imprint of itself in the ground when it is gone. I was determined to grub that root out.

I felt it coming. I felt that plug of fear and self-doubt being pulled out of me, out of the top of my head from all the way down to the soles of my feet. I felt strangely empty, strangely clean. And a little queasy.

But then I could walk OK again. And suddenly I was there, at the centre of the labyrinth. I twisted the yarn in my fingers again, concentrated on focussing all those negatives into it once and for all. Goodbye self-doubt. Goodbye fear. Goodbye money worries, dead-end job, goodbye anxiety. I lifted the yarn to my mouth and blew it all in there. And then I let it drop into the cauldron, gone.

I knelt before the Goddess. At the start of the evening, I had been sure that at this point I would collapse in a weeping heap at Her feet. But the tears in my eyes were of fierce joy, and they did not fall. I thanked Her from my very heart. And took the egg that called to me.

As I walked back out my steps were sure, and I smiled. I kept repeating to myself a new mantra: "I am strong. I am resourceful. I am capable. I will start my own business. I can DO this!". And I knew it was true. As I left the labyrinth I was beaming.

As the others completed their own journeys, I held the space and helped drum for those who wanted it. When we were all done, we looked at each other in wonder. It had been a powerful and moving experience for everyone.

With the lights turned back on and the kettle put to boil for some much needed tea and coffee, we read our messages from the Goddess to each other. Every one was completely right for the woman who had taken it. Mine read, "Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try". And of course, every decision to try starts with overcoming fear and self-doubt. I have shed a long-carried burden. I have been given instructions for the next part of the journey. And it's OK, because "I am strong. I am resourceful. I am capable. I will start my own business. I can DO this!".
(Thank you to the ladies of the Carmarthen Moonlodge for their facilitation and sharing of this journey.)

*****

Post script: The very next day I went down with an absolutely horrendous cold which has completely knocked me for six. I suspect this may be a physical manifestation of rooting out those negative emotions. That was a very powerful labyrinth!


*****

There is just about everything you could want to know about labyrinths on Sig Lonegren's geomancy.org page. His books are also excellent, and I recommend going to hear him speak if you get the chance.