A late autumn. Nos Galan Gaeaf passing. The leaves at last coming down in the fullness of their vivid vibrancy – the yellows of lime and maple and the bronzes of beech whilst the acers on the park shine their reds and oranges.

The trees are letting go. Surrendering. Preparing for sleep. Dying a kind of death.

I’m feeling well. As a result of my practices my physical and mental health is improving. Following an injury I’m running half marathons at my best pace yet.*

Yet, still, after being triggered by a reader’s comments on my book I’m turning the old cogs and being chewed up by an old destructive thought pattern. ‘If my readers don’t like my writing I will lose my audience, I won’t make any money, I will have to return to proper paid work and forfeit my time for spirituality and creativity, meaning my mental health will deteriorate, leaving me with the choice between a living death and death.’ 

For a few days I considered totally rewriting my book to fit better with what I thought those in my audience who are Celtic Polytheists and Druids might want or expect by removing some of the darker and more gory scenes that are based on my personal gnosis about the story of Gwyn/Vindos and His interactions with the serpents of Annwn but this led to total paralysis. I realised it wasn’t what He wanted and ultimately the book is for Him.

I then perceived I’d slipped back into the false belief I could make a living as a professional author, which I promised Gwyn I would give up over ten years ago, had thought I’d given it up, but was unconsciously still clinging onto it.

In a journey with the Way of the Buzzard Mystery School** I performed a rite of letting it go with puffin – viscerally vomiting it up as a huge and toxic fish.***

This done I’m still turning those darned cogs. ‘I can’t make a living from my writing so when my savings run out I will be faced with the choice between living death and death.’

Then, entirely expectedly,  a voice from within, a voice from my healthy body, from my life force, from my spirit, ‘I WANT TO LIVE.’

This was utterly astonishing because, in my existing memory, I cannot remember once thinking ‘I want to live.’ Since I started primary school most of my life has been a battle against ‘wanting to die’ so this signals a vast change.

I believe this comes from having arrived at a monastic lifestyle that suits me centred around devotional creativity in service to my Gods. This incorporates practices that nourish my well being and relationship with Them such as meditation, journeywork, yoga, running, strength training and good nutrition (giving up alcohol has been a big factor) along with cleaning, gardening and litter picking as service to my home and local greenspace. It has also been a great help having the support of my spiritual mentor, Jayne Johnson.

I think my letting go ritual at this time of leaf fall also played a big role.

Much of my fear lies around having to give much of this up to earn a living when my savings run out. I haven’t found a solution yet but it seems a huge step forward to have my inner impulses on board, not to want to die but to live. To be recognising my negative thought patterns and stopping fighting myself.

Those cogs fixed in my mind by the capitalist system I smash, I trample, I cast down amongst the fallen leaves to rust, to rot, to die, so I can live. 

*Last year’s PB was 1:54:55 and since recovering from my sciatic nerve injury I have bested it by nearly six minutes with 1:49:02 – well above average for a 42-year-old female.
**The Way of the Buzzard Mystery School website can be found HERE.
***The images from my journey book recording my journey with puffin.