Some days, I just want peace and quiet. On others, it turns out that this is not actually true at all – my brain just didn’t realize.

I’ve been working hard lately to catch up with work (after the usual busy weekend). Currently, my focus is on my students – both the year just gone and the year ahead. My Druidry course runs from/to June annually, so as this one finishes, the next begins.

Sometimes it’s hard to do homework, right? Well, it can be equally hard for the teacher to sit and focus on the marking. Especially with something as subjective and personal as Druidry.

But as soon as I begin, I find myself caught in the words of those who talk to me in their replies to my lessons. I’m told stories of childhood, hopes and fears, rants and personal doubts. While my students have a loose-knit ‘virtual’ group, the core work is very much one-to-one.

Druidry changes you, as you engage with it. I’m sure this is true of most spiritual (and vocational) paths, but I see it as it happens. It’s a privilege I’ve spoken of before, but it is also Priesting in its most basic form – teaching, guiding and supporting as needed, without being overbearing, pushy or judgmental.

Those who’ve stayed the course have been a joy to know, and I do hope that I’ll continue to be in touch with them in the future. For those just beginning, I’m intrigued all over again to see where the journey takes us. Some will find it’s not for them – that’s fine. Others will find it harder than they thought. I’ll still be here.

Some lessons take hours to read and write responses to; others much less. All tie together as a continuous story, a year of someone’s life. The teacher learns, together with the students. And while it is work (ie remuneration and effort are certainly involved!), every time I read those tales, I’m glad and grateful all over again.

Connection and relationship. Honour and joy. Inspiring.

Morning Pause

I’m sitting with my coffee and knitting, just watching out of the window for a while before I get moving for the day’s work.

The garden is soggy today, but the birds are singing and the cockerel across the road is letting us know it’s morning. The trees are beginning to bud, and the wetness seems to bring out their greenery. Thick ivy on the old stones walls makes me feel as if my wee slice of land is a secret sanctuary, as it has been for hundreds of years… Perhaps.

I can hear cars going past on the road nearby, and think about all of those people rushing about, to school or work. I’ve been there too, but the quiet time then was the brief period before setting off. Or the journey itself, on a busy commuter train and bus. Or alighting one stop early to walk to the office, watching the world around me as I trod the city path.

We all have time, if we let ourselves. Those pauses are necessary, to gather our thoughts, come back to ourselves and remember why we’re alive. The world is busy too, but it’s there for us to explore, if we just stop to see.