in the wars

mallee tree trunk
tough ol' dame

i am not always a gentle person – i’m tough, hard-bitten, passionate and wild, like an eagle or a dingo, or a snake. that’s how i live, that’s how i love.  my motto, taken from a buddhist poem, is ‘fare lonely, as rhinoceros’.  it’s also the name of my hazel wand, my wand of the wood of the scholar ogham, coll. it is a faithful friend to me.

my path is the path of knowledge. i follow the gleam. in pursuit of truth, in rejection of falsehood i have been persecuted, tortured, ill-treated and ostracized, ridiculed, reviled and rejected through many lifetimes, including this one. when the passion in me fails, i see again the depth and extent of earthly suffering that happens when a hurt planet fights for her sanity against the institutionalised falsehood that enslaves whole nations, devastates whole cultures, and suppresses religion, vision and freedom of thought in human cultures within her, and the passion returns to me. it’s a path of love i must walk, through the wars within me and all around me, the war against war itself, through peace process, towards peace, health and the virtue path.

pacifism didn’t work for me – it meant the poor and weak had one less defender. i’m an activist, a warrior – a warrior of love.

in my magic circle, among the speaking stones, i am sister to the moon, daughter to the earth, child of the sun. the gods befriend me.  the dream-time speaks to me. the land holds me in its many-rivered palm. the voices of her spirits make a poet of me and a story-teller, and i sing the songs of joy and sorrow, innocence and experience, victory and defeat for the beings wild and wise of this planet and all planets within and without, for the love of all existences and the good of all beings.

2 thoughts on “in the wars

  1. Gorgeous photo, wyldwyverne.

    “through many lifetimes”:

    How much more sense the fortunes and travails of life have if we do not take this recent, two-dimensional, still-primitive paradigm (i.e., “science”) as our only, or even primary, way of knowing our world. Science, after all, originally meant nothing more than organized knowledge. It was native to all human cultures, not just the overly cerebral.

    How much more mysterious and understandable our plights are if we question the rejection by Descartes and Bacon of timeless wisdom passed down through the ages — whether or not we have stilled our chatter enough to fathom its full meaning.

    Your post reminds me of the substance of those poorly formulated notions (and others that haven’t come to full light yet). And that for untold millennia the mechanists, the objectifiers, the denaturers, the reductionists, the quantifiers, the commodifiers, the plunderers, were a smaller, more obscure, more marginalized group than were druids, et al., and their many analogues in other cultures and dimensions.

    (That all made sense while I was writing it, but it probably won’t when I re-read it. So instead I’m going to turn tail and have some spinach salad and a salubrious nip of fermented vine fruit juice. I bid you a pleasant late afternoon, wyldwyverne, even though it’s very dark here.)

    1. i thank you v. much, xex, for that thoughtful comment. the sad thing is the old druids were probly dreadfully dreary and thought they had the keys of all knowledge in their sticky little traditions. knew the stars were big spheres spinning around in the aether, and how to read and write and all that. but words like drear and dread and even drack seem to me to be suspiciously like words for druid and magic, and drury lane and drudge . . . i suppose it depended who was doing the dord.

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