Wasp Medicine

A very interesting follow up to my wasp poem that I posted on Oct 13th...

I was talking to my friend Gill and we agreed that each of us had only ever once been stung by a wasp in our lives. A couple of days later I was going out into the garden to do some tidying and trimming. As I reached for my gardening boots I thought better check there isn't a wasp inside. Odd, because I don't normally do this, but I checked, and there wasn't. Then later on, getting ready for a walk on the beach, I put on my yellow wellies, which were by the front door. A bolt of pain shot through my foot and I realised that I had been stung by a lurking wasp!

I've been researching wasp medicine and have discovered that Wasp teaches us independent thinking and is often a feature of people who are at the forefront of new ideas. They are also associated with sacred geometry, I suppose because of their fascinating and intricate paper nests. And apparently they often appear in one's life when one's personality is undergoing a major change. I do feel that at the moment actually - I feel much more powerful and grounded.

Interestingly the wasp stung me on my second toe, which is the one associated with the air element. It happened on the very day I began some new Chi Kung breathing exercises. So I think the wasp was helping to open up some blocked channels and heal my lungs. Thank you wasp! I shall begin some new art-work in your honour...

Cheeky!

While I was washing up I noticed a small furry visitor on the bird seed container hanging from my willow tree. It's one of those moments that I wish I had a better camera - but I think you can just make out this gorgeous little red squirrel. He's a very dark one with a big bushy tail. He stayed on the feeder for ages and in the end he must have chewed through the bottom - I found it lying on the lawn half an hour later, on a pile of sunflower seeds. He must have got quite a shock!

A very strange synchronicity
If you follow my art blog, you will know that I have been very into blue, indigo and violet lately. Well something most odd has happened...

A few days ago I had just finished a book, the first of The Deptford Trilogy by Robertson Davies, in which the main character is searching for a very specific image of the Virgin Mary that he `saw' on the battlefield at Passchendaele. At the end of the book he finds her - at Guadalupe. She's described in great detail in the story, even down to her half-closed right eye and the gold rays around her. The story also tells the original legend about Juan Diego, the peasant to whom she first appeared in a vision in 1531. She produced roses for him in December and an image of her was miraculously imprinted on his cloak. You can read the full story here.

When I had read the story I thought - that's interesting, I would like to see the actual image - I must Google it...then I forgot about it.

So when I read my friend Robyn’s blog entry for Thursday 22nd October the following morning I didn't notice anything unusual at first. After blogging I went out into the garden and lay in the sunshine with a bright blue lapis lazuli crystal on my brow chakra. There were all kinds of slightly irritating noises going on and I felt restless and not able to concentrate. But then I began to look at the vivid blue of the sky and suddenly I thought about Mother Mary and sent Robyn some healing and love, because I know that Robyn resonates with her.

Then I kind of went back through Robyn's post, in my mind and thought HANG ON A MINUTE. I rushed back indoors to look again on her blog and there - amazingly – was the Virgin of Guadalupe, with her half-closed right eye! This CANNOT be just a coincidence – it’s just too ridiculous!


When I reread the words below the picture I realised that they were actually a direct reply to my anxt from the other day about finding my inner altar:

"Comprehend and know, my youngest child,
nothing should scare or concern you.
Don't worry.
Do not fear any illness or vexation, anxiety or pain.
Am I not right here who is your Mother?
Are you not under my shadow and protection?
Am I not the foundation of your being
your sustenance, your happiness, peace and effortlessness?
Are you not in the fold of my mantle?
Do you need anything else?
Don't allow anything to disturb you any more."

(Mary the Virgin of Guadeloupe to Juan Diego, December 12, 1531)

Of course Mary was appropriated by the Christians - she was derived from a much earlier goddess archetype, very possibly related to Isis and many others. If you think about it, most of the Catholic ceremonies around her are strangely pagan in nature. But the energy is the same really - a loving, mother archetype, who watches over us and listens to our prayers.
Anyway - she has suddenly come into my life, so I'll listen to her!

Some new artwork in the Gallery...

There are two new little goddess pictures for sale in Wise Woman Gallery. Plus a free giveaway for Samhain if you're quick enough!

The altar within

I seem to have been very busy lately - a complaint that I seem to be hearing all around me as well. There seem to be so many people that I have to communicate with and stuff that I have to do. I am even lying awake at nights worrying about stuff. This is not good and the other night, in the middle of all the turmoil, I had a sudden insight - you know, one of those wise, inner voices that tells one something that one already knows deep down but is not listening to. This voice said to me

You need to light the still, calm, blue flame on your inner altar.

For many years now I have had a kind of `inner house', which I visit sometimes in meditation. I find it helps me in all kinds of ways and over the years I have gradually added more details. I forget to visit it though, sometimes for months on end - guess why - because I'm too busy. So I thought, oh, OK then, I'll go and light the still calm blue flame on my inner altar.

Trouble is - I couldn't find my inner altar anywhere!

As I reflected on this when I wrote down my dreams this morning, I thought to myself I bet this a problem a lot of people have. We can't find our inner peace, or it is tenous, elusive. So I decided to blog about it, and post about my search, so that maybe I can help other people as well as myself while I'm about it. I realise that my inner world is reflected, always, in my outer world, so I'm going to start there. I know I need to use the colour indigo, and go outside in the garden. Don't know what else yet! I'll tell you more soon....

This week's homework...

...for our local writers' group was
`A Wasp Stung the Dog'

I must admit that this one almost had me beat, until a poem suddenly came to me overnight, practically fully fledged...


I always knew

that wasps are the bad guys.
My school friend told me.

One landed on her sleeping dog,
poked its stinger in
her innocent flank,
just for the hell of it.

They zoom around
in loud striped jackets,
barging in where
they’re not wanted.
Anybody’s open window
is an invitation.

They gatecrash picnics,
get drunk on jam,
steal forbidden apples.
Right In Your Face,
they couldn’t care less
whether anyone likes them.

Yes – wasps are the bad guys.
And now I realise,
almost too late in life,
they have a thing or two

to teach me.

Bodowyr by Moonlight

Some fresh artwork inspired by my recent holiday in Anglesey is appearing in Wise Woman Gallery. To visit the gallery and get details about this picture and other new work, click here.

Finding stillness

I think that one of the huge problems in our modern world is that we are all far too busy. Rushing here and there in our cars, meeting deadlines, tearing round the shops getting exhausted buying crap that we don't actually need.

The other day I walked out into my garden and was astonished to see a pink and white feather floating motionless in the air in front of me. After watching it for a few moments I realised that it was actually attached to a long long strand of gossamer that stretched from the trees to the house. The effect was quite hypnotic and beautiful. I went to get my camera and as soon as I had taken this photo the feather detached itself from the spider strand and sank slowly to the ground. But it left me with a feeling of inner peace and stillness that lasted for some hours.

I think Spider must be one of my Spirit Teachers - probably that's why I chose Spinning the Web as the title for my book about finding the spiritual in everyday life. (Which is still unpublished - hint, hint please, Universe!) I'm finding that baby Granddaughter is another great teacher - yesterday, literally left Holding the Baby for a while, I sat with her watching my friend Gill's garden. Her huge, dark eyes seemed to take in everything - the soft falling of damp leaves, the dancing flight of a late butterfly, the colours and the shapes of autumn. And I realised that simply being, sitting holding the baby, is a very vital part of the dance of life, even though it is usually unnoticed, unacknowledged and even regarded as unimportant by people who intensely rush about doing Very Important Jobs.

Hen Capel Lligwy

This is another ancient site that we visited in Anglesey. As soon as we approached I knew it was one of those very special, magical places that you find tucked away all over the British Isles. It is a very small ruined chapel, dating from the first half of the twelfth century. So it is definitely no new-comer - but I noticed something else - the whole site is encircled by a slightly mounded area with a kind of low bank or boundary wall. This is often a tell-tale sign of a much earlier pagan site, and as there is a burial mound and also an iron age village nearby, I think this is very likely. There are lots of large stones lying around, some in the boundary and some built into the chapel itself, which might perhaps have come from an ancient stone circle or other megalithic structure.


Behind the chapel there is a sweeping view of the Irish Sea behind this wise little elder tree. It's unusual to find one free standing and with a definite trunk like this. Usually they are part of a hedge, or rather sprawling in shape. This one has a strong presence and I'm sure it is a guardian. On the opposite side there is a gnarled thorn tree:



Both elder and thorn are special trees, sacred to the Goddess and full of Wise Woman energy. I felt a wonderful sense of peace as I stood in the protective circle of this ancient place, as if time stood still as it held me its arms. Such a healing antidote to the rushing traffic of the motorway and the madness of consumerism in the supermarket.

The old rocking chair

If you fancy having a go at a writing competition then pay a visit to the Harbour Gang blog. It's for children really, but then hey, most of us are kids at heart, so go on - I'll let you all enter - but only if you are members of the Harbour Gang of course!

Fairy Mounds

We have just returned from a wonderful holiday in Anglesey, an island off the coast of Wales. There is a lot of interesting history to see, especially for folk like us who are interested in the megalithic period. There is a great tradition in parts of Britain that the fairy folk lived in `fairy mounds', which are grassy little tumps that are actually Neolilthic burial chambers. Quite possibly some of the ancient British people did actually live inside them at a later stage - they would be quite warm and dry if you didn't mind the ghosts.


This is one of the best ones I have seen. It's called Bryn Celli Ddu, meaning The Mound in the Dark Grove.


It certainly lives up to its name - it's a very atmospheric place and I bet it's more so at night! Of course one normally associates Dark Groves with Druids - the priests of the Celts. But these mounds were actually built way back in history, by much earlier inhabitants of the British Isles than the Celts. Very little is really known about their beliefs and culture.

You can go right inside the mound (or `barrow' as they are commonly called). This shot is taken from inside, looking up the entrance tunnel. In the central chamber is a huge upright single monolith which looked very phallic to me. I wonder if the central chamber represents a womb and the phallic stone is to do with impregnation - the whole cycle of death and rebirth? If you look at this shot and the shot of the entrance doorway above it looks very much like a symbolic representation of a vagina and birth canal too - the entrance to the womb of the Goddess perhaps? That's my theory anyway. What do you think?

Letter to the Future

The RSPB are running a campaign to ensure that despite global recession governments still work to tackle climate change and invest in projects to protect the natural world. If you are interested in ensuring that our children and grandchildren can grow up in a world where there are still sparrows and polar bears, eagles and tigers, and would like to add your voice to this campaign there is a letter that you can sign here.It only takes a few minutes and the more signatures they get the better.

And if you want to visit the RSPB website click on where it says `birds' in the Interesting Websites section in my sidebar.

A reminder

If you know any kids aged 8 - 108 don't forget to tell them about The Harbour Gang Blog. This is a blog that ties in with my book The Island That Wasn't There. It's for kids aged 8-12, and there are lots of puzzles, secret codes and other fun stuff. The book seems to be getting quite an adult following too, so if you're a big kid who likes an adventure then check it out. And pass it on!

How the ladybird messages began...

I promised to post about more of the ladybird messages. This is how the whole thing began, when my soul sister Sally died last July. What follows is an extract from my book Spinning the Web, which, unlike most of my books, is still looking for a publisher. If you are interested please visit my agent - just click on the cauldron in the side-bar.

`This strange thing lying on the bed is just my sister’s body. The shell that she has left behind, like an empty chrysalis abandoned by a butterfly. Her real living presence is very strongly in the room and I know she is here with me. She has suddenly let go of all her earthly battles and come to rest totally and utterly in the present moment. This is her gift to me on this magical morning. I take it into my heart and let my spirit fill with gold - an incredible stillness that is, amazingly, so life-giving.

But after a while a nagging voice begins. How do I stay here? How do I find this still place of inner knowing again? My grief flows then, spilling from me in a hopeless tide and I try to speak to my sister from my vulnerable, doubting, human self, asking her for a sign that she is really here. An image floats into my mind of a ladybird – a special one, she whispers. I smile. Ladybirds were always a special sign between us, of fun and sisterhood and joy. We would send each other random ones – a felt one filled with sand, with bead eyes and long cotton feelers; a tiny wooden one, brightly coloured; a set of stickers, a pair of earrings. I look around the room, but I can’t see one…

…It isn’t until later that the first ladybird appears. I’m walking up the edge of a flat cornfield with my husband and my sister’s dog Kia. I stop, to draw breath and to admire the leaves of a turkey oak tree just above my head. It’s my husband who spots it, resting on a leaf.
‘Is that a ladybird?’ he asks. ‘It’s a very odd one.’ And so it is. Very large, very shiny black, with four red spots. But what unusual spots – two like crescent moons and two like tiny hearts.

Two more curiously strange ladybirds appear on our long journey home a few days later. The first one is suddenly there on my skirt in the car. Very small, oddly shaped, almost like a tear drop. Black again, but this time with a big yellow heart on its back, amongst two rows of tiny yellow spots.

Then later on, having stopped for a greasy burger, just because it’s quick and we are hungry and dismal, I look out of the window into the dreary car park and there – I cannot believe my eyes! A red Ford Ka, painted with big black spots to look like a ladybird. It’s so silly, so frivolous and fun that I can’t help laughing out loud despite my sombre mood. My sister has brought me her ladybird message in triplicate: Look – I can dance, I can do these things. I’m free and full of life and love. And this is another amazing gift from her to me – she’s telling me that we don’t always have to be po-faced and serious to reach our still place, our Soul Centre. We’re allowed to have fun!'

They come in Threes...

Three weird coincidences have happened to me recently...

1) I have just finished reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. (I thoroughly recommend it by the way - it's absorbing, funny and very very sad.) It is set in Germany at the beginning of the Second World War. One of the main characters is a boy called Rudy, who identifies strongly with black athlete Jessie Owens. There is a scene where Rudy blacks up his skin with charcoal from the kitchen stove and sneaks off to run around the local running track under cover of moonlight, being Jessie Owens. When I read this I wanted to know what Jessie Owens actually looked like. Next day there was a film clip on the main news, showing Jessie Owens winning a race in the 1936 Olympics in Germany.

2) The main character in the same book is a girl called Liesel, whose family hide a Jew called Max in the cellar. Liesel sees Max as having hair like feathers and he draws a picture of himself as a bird. The day after reading this bit there was another news item, this time about a bald penguin in a zoo, whose keepers had made him a protective wet suit to wear until his feathers grew back. The man relating this news item ruefully rubbed his own bald head and wished that his would grow back, then adding `hair, not feathers I mean.'

3) Yesterday I did some art-work with my daughter and Gill. I began to work on a shamanic picture of myself wearing a fox-skin cloak and with fox ears on my head. The idea being to show myself taking on fox energy - a kind of watchful cunning. This morning I got an email from Gill:

'last night I decided to read some of Angela Carter's stories again and read this line...

Sometimes, it was possible for me to believe that he had practised an enchantment on me, as foxes in this country (Japan) may, for, here, a fox may masquerade as a human and at the best of times the high cheekbones gave his face the aspect of a mask.'

Thank you little plum tree!

The little plum tree in my garden normally has about eight plums on it, but this year it has had a bumper crop. So huge in fact that it has been absolutely dripping with fruit and its branches have been weighed down. I'm sure it feels relieved now that I am harvesting them. Here's the first batch:


And here's the second lot, minus at least as many again that I have given away to friends and family. I made four pots of jam, and a delicious crumble. And there are still some left in the bowl to eat.


Look at the glowing colour of the jam, full of fresh natural goodness and energy. Not like the stuff you buy in the shops at all. People miss out on so much these days by being separated from nature and the simple pleasures of growing their own food.

In front of the jam is part of our last Lughnasadh loaf, which I took out of the freezer for lunch. And in the foreground is Bast, Egyptian cat goddess and protector of my home, suckling her precious kittens. All is tucked up and snug in my home, despite all the endless rain and wind we've been having. And there's still another basket of plums ripening on my little tree.

More fun with ladybirds

If you've been following my blog since last summer when my sister Sally died, you will have read about the little ladybird messages that keep happening from time to time. What happened originally was that as I kept the death vigil beside her body I asked her for a special sign, so that I would know that she was there with me in spirit. She told me that it would be a ladybird. Since then there have been all kinds of delightful and amazing ladybird incidents, a few of which I've written about on my blog.

Anyway... yesterday I said to Sally that she hadn't sent me a special ladybird for a while, and could she please send me one tomorrow?

This morning my daughter rang unexpectedly and said she was coming over to see me and that she had some presents for me. I said that was nice and what had I done to deserve presents, as it's not my birthday or anything? `Don't know really,' she said, 'I just thought I'd bring you some.'

Of course it turned out that one of the presents was a Tesco's fold up shopping bag - with ladybirds on it!

Which is both really weird and perfectly normal once you begin to grasp the fact that the universe is not AT ALL the way you think it is.

By the way if you pop across and visit Wise Woman Gallery you will find a small watercolour inspired by Sally's ladybird messages. And to read back through a few more ladybird messages, click on the ladybird label under this post. There have been a lot more of them that I haven't posted about as well - I'll have a look through my journal and post some more up soon.

Is this the future that we want?

I read an article yesterday on the BBC website that filled me with a stark and nameless dread. Apparently `Engineers say a forest of 100,000 "artificial trees" could be deployed within 10 to 20 years to help soak up the world's carbon emissions.'
The article goes on to explain that the `trees' `would work on the principle of capturing carbon dioxide from the air through a filter.'

Well HELLO. That's what REAL trees do.

Have we just gone totally mad? Do we not realise that we are part of a vast and intricate ecosystem and we cannot just tamper with it at will. We are supposed to tend the garden, not destroy it. The engineers are claiming that each artificial tree would mop up thousands of times more carbon than a real one. But let's look at this more closely:

• the `trees' would have to be made in factories. This involves losing yet more green space, and using up endless more resources;
• each `tree' is the size of a shipping container. It will have to be transported - thus using up more fuel and other resources and ADDING to the pollution and massive lorries on our roads...
• what happens to all the mopped up carbon? Does it have to be taken away and dumped somewhere or what? Thus adding yet again to fuel consumption, traffic etc. etc.
• when the trees break down, as they surely will, it will take more manpower, fuel etc to mend them;
• when they finally come to end of their `life' (an ironic word you will note), they will have to be disposed of. You got it - more fuel, manpower, recycling costs or landfill etc etc
• these artificial trees will all look the same. And utterly artificial. Do we really want our motorway journeys to be even more monotonous and artificial?

Now then, hmmm... lets think about REAL trees:

• they are very varied and beautiful;
• each tree is a living ecosystem, home to birds, small mammals, lichens, mosses, insects, fungi...
• all you need to transport in order to grow one is a tiny seed, or a sapling;
• a tree is more or less a self mantaining system that requires nothing but earth, air, water and sunlight. Notice that these are the four elements of magic - this is not a coincidence.
  
• when they die they can be composted and returned to the earth cycle;
• they are wise and noble beings in their own right, and some of the finest spiritual teachers that I know.
• sitting under a tree brings energy and healing to mind, body and soul. What can I say about sitting under an artificial `tree'?

So I have an idea. Let's plant thousands of REAL trees.
Let's work on cutting down on all the pointless travelling about that we do.
And let's put our research energy and money into developing new, clean technology that doesn't belch out carbon and other pollutants into the air.

Further adventures of the yellow wellies

What does one wear on a visit to the beach in August?


Kagoul and wellies of course!
The blurred effect in the photo is caused by all the spray from the sea, which got all over the camera lens.
Notice also the Wild and Rebellious hair of my Border Reiver ancestors. It always goes extra, extra curly when I'm out and about in a storm. When I was little I thought that this nursery rhyme was about me:
`There was a little girl, who had a little curl,
right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good, she was very very good,
but when she was bad she was horrid.'
Just about sums it up really...
(Photo by Gill . More shots and a great video of the same storm on her blog.)

Ideas for hospitals

Yesterday I went to the Cumberland Infirmary at Carlisle as an outpatient and I was pleasantly surprised. The building is very modern, all built around a long wide central corridor with a high glass roof. This makes it feel light and airy with an energising atmosphere. There plenty of seating areas, and little shops and cafes, making it feel more like a street where one can stroll than a hospital. I also found that the pot plants and plenty of good art-work made it feel much more welcoming than the old style hospitals. I'm sure all this is very important in making people feel more at ease and therefore more able to heal quickly.

I sat and waited opposite a lovely tiled mural of a pond, showing underwater life such as frogs, newts, tadpoles etc and some dabbling ducks. It would have been a great talking point to distract a nervous child. I know this, because I spent a lot of time in hospital as a child and so unfortunately my default hospital setting is to revert to about age nine - I'm a real wimp as soon as I catch sight of a needle or a pill bottle! But the nurse who attended my treatment was attentive and reassuring, even holding my hand while it was going on. This simple human touch was very comforting.

I was reflecting on all this in bed last night and came up with a few more ideas to make things even better. I worked for many years as a therapist and I'm convinced that main stream medicine could learn a lot from the complementary approach. And since whatever positive ideas I write about on my blog nearly always seem to manifest in the outer world before long, here they are:

• soothing music in the treatment room
• maybe show a film of a relaxing place such as garden or sea-side (patient could choose?)
• water features with running water and fountains
• more art work, particularly on the ceiling, since that's where one often ends up looking
• when having minor surgery the patient could listen to a relaxation tape
• lots and lots more plants. Gardens to sit in in the fresh air.
  
• tropical fish tank with neon tetras (I remember this on one of my childhood wards and it gave me a link to something real, living and magical.)
• meditation areas, with peaceful symbols and colours, maybe windchimes, crystals etc.
  

So there you go - over to the powers that be!
And for my friends in the US who are reading this - stand by President Obama and insist on creating a health service like ours, that is free for all, rich or poor.