My Sacred Grove

Wed, 19 May 2010 15:55:46 +0100

I am studying as a bard with the Order of Bards Ovates and Druids. I began my studies earlier this month, and I find myself drawn to share this experience here. Even if no one reads this, for some reason I find it very soothing to type it out and I feel the need to share the things that I feel.
The practical exercise this week was to create my Sacred Grove. I am not sure if one needs to capitalize this, but I feel that it deserves it.
I had spent the hours before sleep took me last night trying to create my own grove in my dreams. I have always had a strong imagination and I figured that it would be no difficulty at all to manufacture the perfect place to go when I need it. But I was to be dissapointed. It would appear that my imagination is not quite powerful enough to create a tangible enough environment.
Then, in my quiet hours this morning, I reflected on moments that filled my heart deeply and fed my soul. They are all small moments, no mountaintops or great visions, just simple moments in which I was moved, and I was a vessel, finally filled. And I found my Grove.
When I was 16, I spent the month of July up north in a small Canadian town, in which there was a camp for children, where I was employed to lead activities and care for the children. For the first time, I lived away from my parents and I was the one in the caring position. It was the best summer of my life for many reasons. I discovered my first love, I began to discover myself, and everything shines when you are sixteen.
There was a morning, one of my first ones there, in which I awoke at five in the morning, intent to see the sun rise. There was a small point out into the lake that is circled by spruce and birch trees, and there is a grassy area on the shore that immediately gives way to the lake. There is no slope or beach, just lake all of a sudden, if you get my meaning.
The morning was slightly cool and perfectly calm, without any breeze or wind, and the surface of the lake was a perfect mirror, in which the sky was reflected in combined shades of fiery orange and shy orchid. As I sat on the edge of this lake, the birches watching over me, I felt as if I was sitting on the edge of the world itself. Even now, nearly eight years later, it is as if I am there now, young and pure and vulnerable, half afraid of the journey ahead, but stealing a quiet hour on the edge of the world, letting the awen fill my soul to the brim.

my-journey

My Sacred Grove