The Origins of Houses and House Spirits

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Introduction

In ancient and modern polytheistic and shamanic cultures, houses are viewed as inspirited and as being occupied by one or more house spirits. My recent efforts to build a better relationship with my house and house spirits has led me to researching how people in Britain and, in particular, in my local area and more widely across Lancashire, have related to theirs.

Living Lightly

The earliest people of Britain were hunter-gatherers. They were highly mobile. Those who dwelled in Lancashire spent their summers in temporary camps in various locations on the West Pennines and moved to larger and more static base camps in the western lowlands over the winter. 

I live in Penwortham in a lowland area close to the river Ribble. A couple of miles upriver was a camp at Walton-le-Dale where blades were made. The closest upland camps are on Withnell, Wheelton, Anglezarke, Rivington and Smithills Moors. 

These people lived so lightly on the land not a trace of their dwellings has been found. They slept in tents made from animal hides that they carried with them, supported by stakes made from dwarf birch and willow. The animal hides were viewed as imbued with the spirit of the animal who was killed and the stakes with the spirits of the trees who had been felled. Prayers and offerings were likely made to these spirits before and after their deaths. 

The First Houses

During the Paleolithic and Mesolithic periods, settlements were rare but did exist. The most famous example is Star Carr in Yorkshire. Here, the earliest house in Britain was found, dating to around 8,500 BCE. It consisted of a ring of 18 wooden posts enclosing a circular floor 3.5 meters in diameter. It was likely thatched with reeds from the nearby lake. Three later houses were found along with timber platforms from which offerings were made to the lake.

Reconstruction of Howick House in Northumberland, Wikipedia Commons

Another example is Howick House in Northumberland dating to 7500BCE. At Lunt Meadows in Merseyside, three houses dating to 6000BCE were found. Close by was an intricate arrangement of stones consisting of two granite boulders, stained red, with sparkling mica pieces, with struck blue flints and a smaller pebble. These likely served a ritual function. Also, a tree had been set alight on the site and a white flint blade deposited underneath it.

It has been theorised that, whilst most of the population remained mobile, some people might have lived permanently at these camps and made them ‘home’. Here, perhaps, we found the earliest house spirits. 

It is likely that offerings were made to placate the land spirits before building a house and to keep them happy whilst people were in residence. It’s possible that some of the land spirits who were recipients came to be house spirits.

During the Neolithic period, in southern Britain, people began settling in farmsteads and taking to small-scale agriculture but this was less common in the north. The earliest domestic settlement in my vicinity is Irby, on the Wirral, from the Middle Bronze Age. It’s a circular structure with post-sockets in which pottery and clay artefacts were found – likely offerings to the land spirits. Within was an oven, pottery and bronze work. Cereals were farmed.

Such farmsteads, and other roundhouses, were simple structures with a hearth in the middle and beds around the outside. People worked and slept in them and no doubt told stories around the fire through the winter months. These houses would have been alive with the spirit of the family, their work, their tales. The fire would likely have been honoured along with the house spirits.

Here, in Penwortham, there was a Bronze Age lake dwelling on Penwortham Marsh consisting of a brushwood platform and piles measuring 17m by 7m. This may have been occupied during the winter and by people travelling the Ribble in dug-out canoes (two of which were found in the nearby area).

Hill Forts and Foundation Burials

In the Late Bronze Age and in the Iron Age people began building hill forts. These ranged in size. Some were a single fortified building with defensive palisades, banks and ditches, whereas others contained whole villages with roundhouses, granaries and storage pits, and shrines.

It’s possible that an earlier small prehistoric fort (or burial mound) lay beneath the Anglo-Saxon fort that gave its name to Castle Hill in Penwortham. Along the Ribble, there were possible promontory forts on Frenchwood Knoll and along the banks at Fishwick Allotments, Red Scar Wood and Boilton Wood.

Hill forts across Britain are often associated with foundation burials. For example, there was an adult burial beneath Maiden Hill in Dorset and at South Cadbury in Somerset there were numerous burials in ritual pits. These may have been made to placate the land spirits and / or to incorporate ancestors into the house. These spirits likely became house spirits.

Maiden Castle, Wikipedia Commons

The tradition of foundation burials of humans and animals is long standing. Two human skeletons were buried beneath a house on Orkney during the Neolithic period and a sea eagle was also buried as a foundation deposit. At Cladh Hallan, in South Ouist, on the Outer Hebrides, two mummified skeletons were deposited beneath a Bronze Age roundhouse. These were composed of different persons showing a complex merging of ancestors and house.

Hill forts were seen to have their own spirit and to be inspirited by past owners. In medieval Welsh literature, we find references to Caer Gwenddolau (‘the Fort of Gwenddolau’) and Staffell Cynddylan (‘The Hall of Cynddylan’) about whose fall exists a lament describing it as ‘forlorn,’ ‘desolate’, ‘dark’.

Roman House Spirits

Unfortunately, the Britons didn’t write anything down, so we don’t know much about their specific beliefs about house spirits or their names. However, we do know about the traditions brought by the Romans. 

It’s worth noting here that Roman building traditions differed to the British. When they came here, they built houses with multiple rooms, including kitchens, dining rooms, baths and individual bedrooms. 

Examples here in Lancashire include the fort at Kirkham and the Roman town at Ribchester known as Bremetennacum, ‘the Fortress by the Roaring Ford’, due to its proximity to the River Ribble. There was also a Roman industrial site at Walton-le-Dale, continuing the earlier blade industry.

The Romans honoured a variety of house spirits. The Lares domesticus were house spirits and might formerly have been spirits of the land. The Lares familiaris were spirits of the family – family ancestors. The penates were spirits of the pantries and kitchen and often had altars in the cupboards and were seen to look after the food and were gifted with food offerings at mealtimes. The male head of the household had a genius who helped him to govern the home and the female a guiding spirit called a Juno. Each family also had their own patron God or Goddess and worshipped the local deities.

Roman Lararium (a shrine to the Lares), Wikipedia Commons

Whereas we see examples of Romans taking over British shrines and equating British and Roman deities via interpretatio Romana (for example, Belisama, Goddess of the Ribble, was equated with Minerva at Ribchester), we do not find any examples of British and Roman house spirits being equated. This is likely because household shrines were small and made of organic materials and did not leave any traces in the archaeological records. 

It’s likely that the Britons also honoured both spirits of the house and family and possibly had guiding spirits for their male and female lineages. 

‘Unclean Spirits’

With the coming of Christianity and its establishment as the mainstream religion in Britain following the conversion of Constantine in 312CE and the Augustinian Mission in 597CE, interaction with spirits became frowned upon. Pre-Christian sacred sites were replaced with Christian ones. People were told to pray not to the deities of the land but to the Christian God. ‘Unclean spirits’ were routinely banished by the Christian priesthood.

Still, amongst rural people, the older traditions lived on. These were recorded in later folklore. In his Journey Through Wales, in 1188, Gerald of Wales records the existence of disruptive house spirits in Pembroke. He refers to them as ‘unclean spirits’ who ‘have been in close communication with human beings. They are not visible, but their presence is felt all the same… They have been in the habit of manifesting them-selves, throwing refuse all over the place, more keen perhaps to be a nuisance than to do any real harm.’

In William Not’s house, ‘They were a cause of annoyance to both host and guests alike, ripping up their clothes of linen, and their woollen ones, too, and even cutting holes in them. No matter what precautions were taken, there seemed to be no way of protecting these garments, not even if the doors were kept bolted and barred.’ 

In Stephen Wiet’s house, the spirit argued with humans. ‘When they protested, and this they would often do in sport, he would upbraid them in public for every nasty little act which they had committed from the day of their birth onwards, things which they did not like to hear discussed.’

Gerald notes that Christian priests failed to banish these spirits with holy water. 

Bwbachan

In British Goblins (1880), Wirt Sikes records several stories of the Welsh Bwbachan, ‘house fairies’. He provides the following description: ‘The Bwbach, or Boobach, is the good-natured goblin which does good turns for the tidy Welsh maid who wins its favour by a certain course of behaviour recommended by long tradition. The maid having swept the kitchen, makes a good fire the last thing at night, and having put the churn, filled with cream, on the whitened hearth, with a basin of fresh cream for the Bwbach on the hob, goes to bed to await the event. In the morning she finds (if she is in luck) that the Bwbach has emptied the basin of cream, and plied the churn-dasher so well that the maid has but to give a thump or two to bring the butter in a great lump. Like the Ellyll which it so much resembles, the Bwbach does not approve of dissenters and their ways, and especially strong is its aversion to total abstainers.’

He records a number of tales of how these spirits have come to help on farms. In Glamorganshire, Rowli Pugh was down on his luck. An ellyll ‘elf or fairy’ offered to help on the condition that he bid his ‘good wife leave the candle burning when she goes to bed, and say no more about it.’ Every night, ‘his wife set the candle out, swept the hearth, and went to bed; and every night the fairies would come and do her baking and brewing, her washing and mending, sometimes even furnishing their own tools and materials.’ ‘Everything prospered’. Then, ‘one night… she took a peep at the fair family… through a crack in the door. There they were, a jolly company of ellyllon, working away like mad, and laughing and dancing as madly as they worked. Catti was so amused that in spite of herself she fell to laughing too; and at sound of her voice the ellyllon scattered like mist before the wind, leaving the room empty. They never came back any more; but the farmer was now prosperous, and his bad luck never returned to plague him.’

In a story that shares resemblances with others from across Britain, at Hendrefawr farm, in Merionethshire, a farmer is tormented by a Bwbach who he wishes would ‘flit’. To get rid of the troublesome spirit, he feigns leaving the farm, putting his household goods on a cart and leaving for England. When he reaches a ford called Rhyd-y-Fen, a neighbour asks if he is leaving for good. From the churn on the cart comes a shrill cry, ‘Yes, yes, we are flitting from Hendrefawr to Eingl-dud, where we’ve got a new home.’ The farmer, realising his plan has failed, takes the Bwbach back to their home. 

This shows that once a house spirit has formed an attachment with a certain family, they will often follow the family, rather than remaining with the new owners.

Brownies

Brownie, by Alice Woodward, Wikipedia Commons

In Scotland and some areas of northern England and the midlands, house spirits are referred to as brownies. In his Fairy Mythology, (1828), Thomas Keightley describes a ‘Brownie’ as ‘a personage of small stature, wrinkled visage, covered with short curly brown hair, and wearing a brown mantle and hood. His residence is the hollow of the old tree, a ruined castle, or the abode of man, He is attached to particular families, with whom he has been known to reside, even for centuries, threshing the corn, cleaning the house… He is, to a certain degree, disinterested; like many great personages, he is shocked at anything approaching to the name of a bribe or douceur, yet, like them, allows his scruples to be overcome if the thing be done in a genteel, delicate, and secret way. Thus, offer Brownie a piece of bread, a cup of drink, or a new coat and hood, and he flouted at it, and perhaps, in his huff, quitted the place for ever; but leave a nice bowl of cream, and some fresh honeycomb, in a snug private corner, and they soon disappeared, though Brownie, it was to be supposed, never knew anything of them.’

Here, we find some overlap with other British house spirits with the helping with household chores and enjoyment of offerings of dairy products. We also find the additional rule against giving other forms of payment, particularly clothing.

In other tales, Brownies given clothing take offence and depart. ‘A new mantle and a new hood; / Poor Brownie! ye ‘ll ne’er do mair gude!’ ‘Gie Brownie coat, gie Brownie sark, / Ye ‘se get nae mair o’ Brownie’s wark!’ A Brownie given bread and milk left taking ‘the luck’ of the house with him.

House Boggarts

Here, in Lancashire, house spirits often appear as troublesome boggarts. These spirits traditionally dwell in boggart holes and come to take up residence in farms and cause trouble, possibly because they have taken a disliking to the draining of their land by the ditches that drain the fields. 

In The Lancashire Dictionary, Alan Crosby defines a boggart as a ‘ghost, sprite, evil spirit or feeorin.’ He says, ‘There was scarcely an old house or a lonely valley which did not have its terrifying tales of creatures which roamed, shrieked and caused havoc – though most do not appear to have been especially malevolent, and some were just a nuisance.’

A farmhouse in Boggart’s Hole Clough in Blackley was haunted by a creature with ‘a small shrill voice’ ‘like a baby’s penny trumpet’ who played tricks on the residents and their children. Having decided to leave, as they made their departure they heard the shrill voice say ‘Ay, ay neighbour, we’re flitting you see.” Realising wherever they went the boggart would follow, they turned back.

The boggart of Barcroft Hall in Burnley was reputedly ‘a helpful little fellow’ until given a pair of clogs. After this he caused trouble, breaking pots and pans, making animals sick and lame, preventing the cows from milking and putting the farmer’s prize bull on the roof. Fed up of his tricks the farmer decided to leave. Crossing a small bridge he heard a voice call from beneath, “Stop while I’ve tied my clogs, and I’ll go with you!” The farmer resigned to go back.’

Here we find again the themes of ‘flitting’ and the rule against giving clothes.

Approaching House Spirits

The archaeological and literary evidence for house spirits suggests they originated as land spirits and became incorporated into the house and then became attached to certain families, who they would often follow. They exercise a certain amount of freedom, choosing who they serve, setting conditions, and causing trouble or departing if they are not met. Some are satisfied by any offering of food or drink whilst others demand dairy. Giving them money or clothes appears to be a universal no-no. 

Assessing whether your house has a house spirit and whether it is happy might be evidenced by the feel and condition of the house. Is the house clean and airy? Do you feel like you’re helped with the chores? Does anything get on its own? Or are things always breaking or being misplaced? Is everything always a mess? Do you find you’re plagued by mould and damp?

For those who feel comfortable it is a good idea to try to commune with the house spirit. This can be done in meditation or light trance. A candle can be lit and an offering of food or drink (dairy products if it feels right) can be made. 

Be polite and respectful. Don’t immediately ask for help or favours. Check in with the spirit about who they are, how long they’ve been there, what they need. Depending on your own and the spirit’s ways of speaking and listening, you might see and hear the spirit directly with your inner sense or might receive feelings, an inner knowing, or some physical sign like a creak or blast of wind. Be aware that such spirits have likely not been talked to for a long time and might be feeling hurt and resentful about their neglect. 

Afterwards, if drawn to, you might set aside a space for the spirit with a representation, a candle, or a place for offerings, as you both see fit. 

The spirit can then be consulted on questions relating to the house such as cleaning, decorating and renovation and even asked for advice on family affairs.

When considering moving house you might ask if the spirit wants to stay or leave. And… if you don’t… you might find that it comes flitting with you!

SOURCES

Barrowclough, D. Prehistoric Lancashire, (The History Press, 2011)
Crosby, A. The Lancashire Dictionary, (Smith Settle, 2000)
Keightley, T., The Fairy Mythology, (1828), https://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/tfm/tfm130.htm
Harland, J. Wilkinson, Lancashire Folklore, (1867), Project Guntenburg Ebook (2012), https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/41148/pg41148-images.html
Lamb, J. ‘Lancashire’s Prehistoric Past’, Linda Sever (ed), Lancashire’s Sacred Landscape, (2010, History Press)
Lecouteux, C. The Tradition of Household Spirits, (Inner Traditions, 2013)
Sikes, W. British Goblins, (1880), Project Gutenburg Ebook, (2010), https://www.gutenberg.org/files/34704/34704-h/34704-h.htm
Turner-Bishop, A, ‘Fairy and Boggart Sites in Lancashire,’ Sever, L. (ed), Lancashire’s Sacred Landscape, (The History Press, 2010)
https://historic-liverpool.co.uk/lunt-meadows-mesolithic-settlement/
https://www.york.ac.uk/news-and-events/news/2024/research/hunter-gatherers-orderly-home/

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme – a Northern Love Charm with Health Benefits

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Introduction – Scarborough Fair

Scarborough Fair is a northern English folksong which was first recorded in Frank Kidson’s Traditional Tunes in 1891. The fair it is named after took place in Scarborough from 1253 until 1788, running from Assumption Day, August 15th, until Michaelmas day, September 29th. It forms a place-specific variant of an older song, ‘The Elphin Knight’, collected by Francis James Child as Child Ballad 2 with variants dating back to the 1670s. 

The song takes the form of an exchange between a pair of former lovers. The first part is sung by a male, who asks a traveller to take a message to the female. He sets her a trio of impossible tasks – to make him a cambric shirt without seam or needlework, to wash it in a dry well, and hang it on a thorn tree that has never blossomed in order to win him back. She replies with her own trio of impossible tasks – to find an acre of land between the sea foam and sea sand, sow it with one peppercorn and tie it up with a peacock’s feather. Only then, will she make the shirt and agree to be his true love. 

The tradition of lovers completing impossible tasks is a long one. It is found in the medieval Welsh text, Culhwch ac Olwen (1100), in which Culhwch completes forty to win the hand of Olwen from the giant, Ysbaddaden Bencawr. These, too, include ploughing and sowing the land and Ysbaddaden Bencawr means ‘Chief Hawthorn Giant’ which might relate to the thorn tree. ‘The Giant’s Daughter’ international folklore motif, containing the impossible tasks, is pan-European, and dates back to prehistoric times. 

Notably, in the second line of each verse, we find the repetition of the line – ‘savoury (later parsley – the same herb), sage, rosemary and thyme’. This replaced an earlier refrain – ‘Sober and grave grows merry in time’.

This is the version of Scarborough Fair recorded by Frank Kidson:

The male:
O, where are you going? To Scarborough Fair?
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to a lass that lives there,
For she was once a true love of mine.

And tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without any seam or needlework,
And then she shall be a true love of mine.

And tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Where no water sprung nor a drop of rain fell,
And then she shall be a true love of mine.

And tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
And then she shall be a true love of mine.

The female:
O, will you find me an acre of land,
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the sea foam and the sea sand,
Or never you’ll be a true love of mine.

O, will you plough it with a ram’s horn,
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And sow it all over with one peppercorn,
Or else you’ll be a true love of mine.

Or will you reap it with a sickle of leather,
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And tie it all up with a peacock’s feather,
Or never you’ll be a true love of mine.

And when you have done and have finished your work,
Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
You can come to me for your cambric shirt,
And then you shall be a true love of mine.

This song has meaning to me because I rewrote and sung the first part based around the impossible tasks Vindos set me for when I married Him in death. 

Are you going to the Land of the Fair
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lived there
For she once was a true love of mine

Tell her to build us a coffin of wood.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
From no tree that ever has stood
And she will be a true love of mine

Tell her to dig the deepest of graves
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without a pick axe or a spade
And she will be a true love of mine

Tell her to seal our burial tomb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without hammer or nails return to the womb
And she will be a true love of mine

Since then, I have been growing parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme together in my back garden and offering them to Vindos around our wedding day in mid-May.

Whilst the mainstream answer to the origin of the refrain ‘parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme’ lies in its sounding like earlier lines, it has also been suggested that this combination of herbs might be a love charm. Indeed, each of these herbs is associated with love and fertility, as well as death. 

Recently, I received the insight that these herbs might not only symbolise my sacred marriage to Vindos, but might have medicinal benefits for me too. Through shamanic journeying and research, I have discerned their personal meaning.

Parsley – Relax

I see you lying on a rock in the Underworld. 
I lie beside you. It’s a long way up. 
More than 3 miles, 6 miles, 7 miles, or 9. 
It’s said you have walked this path
3 times, 6 times, 7 times, 9 times 
with the Devil or with an Elfin Knight. 
I see I have walked this path with him too.
How long will it take us to stir? To go to the light?

The term ‘parsley’ originates from the Ancient Greek petroselinon, ‘rock celery’, from petros ‘rock’ and selinon ‘celery’. Both parsley and celery belong to the same family – Apicaeae – the parsley, celery, or carrot family. Its Latin name is Petroselinum crispum. It originates from the rocky cliffs of the Mediterranean and, like the other three herbs, was brought to Britain by the Romans. 

In the Greek and Roman traditions, parsley was associated with death. It was said to have sprouted from the blood of Archemorus ‘forerunner of death’. It was sacred to Persephone – the ancient Greek Queen of the Underworld. It was strewn on graves, woven into funeral wreaths and grown on tombs. It was also used to deodorise corpses. It was said that when a person was close to death, they would soon need ‘nothing but parsley’.

Its slow germination period was explained by its going to the Devil 3, 6, 7 or 9 times. This is suggestive of its longstanding associations with the Underworld. Or perhaps it is so relaxed it takes it a while to stir from its sleep?

One of its primary properties is bringing about physical and mental relaxation. It contains a phenylpropene called apiole which has historically been used to relieve stomach cramps and menstrual cramps and also has a diuretic action (warning – too much can irritate the kidneys and being about abortions). 

It is rich in Vitamin K, which promotes relaxation by regulating calcium levels in the body, thereby preventing involuntary muscle contractions and easing cramps.

It contains two important flavonoids called luteolin and apigenin. These regulate stress hormones and neurotransmitters (GABA and serotonin). They also have neuroprotective, anti-oxidant and anti-inflammatory effects.

As someone with a family history of diabetes, I was intrigued to find out that it contains an anti-diabetic flavonoid called myricetin, that lowers blood sugar.

It also good for the heart. Apigenin also serves as an inflammatory that relaxes blood vessels. Folate (Vitamin B9) lowers levels of homocysteine—an amino acid which can damage arterial structures and cause heart disease.

Its benefits for the heart might provide a link to link to love and to fertility. In ancient Greece and Rome it was used in both funeral and wedding wreaths.

Across Europe it was said that babies were found in patches of parsley prior to the cabbage patch and that growing parsley in the garden led to pregnancy. Parsley wine has also been drunk as an aphrodisiac.

‘Relax’ is the message that parsley has brought for me. 

If only I could lie down in a bed of parsley and go to sleep…

Sage – Clear your Mind

I float to you light as smoke. 
The smog of black thoughts I leave behind.
By you I am filtrated, siphoned.
Wise old sage, you clear my mind.

The term ‘sage’ originates from the Latin sapere ‘to have good taste, to be wise’. It now refers to a wise person. The Latin name, salvia officinalis, comes from salvia ‘to heal’ and officina, a place where monks kept their herbs. Like rosemary and thyme, it belongs to the Lamiaceae, thesage family.

Sage has long been associated with wisdom. The Romans chewed the herb and drank in their tea to improve their mental sharpness and capacity for learning. Nicholas Culpeper, in his 1653 work, The Complete Herbal, noted its capacity to ‘heal the head and the brain’ and its role in cognition and memory.

Sage contains 160 phytochemicals. A number have been identified as aids in enhancing mental clarity and memory. The primary one is rosmarinic acid and 1,8 cineoloe, camphor, carnosic acid and caffeic acid play a role. Together, they form a powerful ‘phytochemical cocktail’ (2) for the mind.

The phytochemicals in sage improve cognition by inhibiting an enzyme called acetylcholinesterase that breaks down acetylcholine (a primary neurotransmitter that enables your brain to communicate with your body). By protecting acetylcholine, sage supports the body-mind connection.

It also boosts levels of brain-derived neurotrophic factor (BDNF). This plays an essential role in neurogenesis (creating new neurons) and synaptogenesis (creating new connections between neurons). This bolsters brain power and improves neuroplasticity, making the mind more flexible.

Sage also prevents neuro-inflammation by repressing inflammatory cytokines.

Like parsley, it, too, is an anti-diabetic. It works like the drug, metformin, lowering blood sugar by reducing the amount of glucose produced by the liver.

Like its kindred, sage is also associated with both love and death. It was used to deodorise corpses and was thrown and planted on graves. Growing a sage bush in the garden enhanced fertility and young women picked a sage leaf on Midsummer or New Year’s eve to see a vision of their future husband. 

Clary sage, (Salvia sclarea from the Latin sclareia ‘clear’), referred to by Nicholas Culpeper as ‘clear-eye sage’, was also used to enhance mental clarity and intuitive insight and might have inspired visions of the Otherworld. 

Rosemary – Remember me

Do you remember my scent, 
the dew of a faraway sea
that froths and chaffs its lament?
Do you remember me?

The name rosemary, Salvia rosmarinus, derives from the Latin ros ‘dew’ and marinus ‘sea’, providing it with the lovely very poetic name ‘dew of the sea’. This relates to it growing in the rocky coastal regions of the Mediterranean.

Its strongest associations are with memory. Greek and Roman students wore crowns of rosemary to aid their memory during examinations. Nicholas Culpeper notes that it ‘helps a weak memory and quickens the senses.’ In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Ophelia laments, ‘there’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance.’

Rosemary’s memory enhancing properties come from rosmarinic acid. Thus, it works in a similar way to sage, inhibiting acetylcholine re-uptake, raising levels of BDNF, and reducing inflammation and oxidative stress in the brain. 

It also inhibits the build-up of amyloid-beta proteins, which form a plaque, cause neuro-inflammation and induce the spread of abnormal tau proteins, destroying brain cells. This process leads to Alzheimer’s. By preventing beta-amyloids from building up, rosemary protects our memory. 

Like its kin it has associations with death. It has been used in embalming fluids, as a deodorant, and sprigs of rosemary were carried by Greek and Roman mourners in funeral processions. It is still used in funeral wreaths and arrangements today, for example on Elizabeth II’s funeral casket.

Similarly, in relation to love, it is worn in bridal headpieces and used in wedding bouquets. It was also added to wine for the toast. Sleeping with a sprig beneath the pillow could lead to a dream of one’s future spouse.

‘Remember me to one who lived there’. 

It seems a fitting herb for recalling memories of a lover. 

Thyme – Have Courage

You visit me on a misty morning. 
A sprig of thyme. A heap of leaves. 
I hold you in my hand. You hold me. 
Together we watch the passing of time. 
I see my smallness and my potency. 
That I am merely an instrument in
the hand of a greater force. 

Great thyme, mighty spirit,
grant me the courage
to do the will of my God. 

The term ‘thyme’ originates from the Latin, thymos, ‘courage’. It has been associated with courage since ancient times. The Romans bathed in waters scented with thyme and added it to their wine before going into battle. Medieval women gifted knights a sprig of thyme to enhance their courage. 

From very early in our relationship, I have given Vindos / Gwyn a sprig of thyme for courage on May morning before He goes to fight His rival, Vitiris / Gwythyr.

Thyme contains two phytochemicals that might bolster courage – thymol and cavacrol. Thymol has protective qualities. It is antibacterial and antiseptic and works by destroying the bacterial cell membrane leading to cell death. It has thus been used in mouthwashes and for disinfecting minor wounds.

Cavacrol is a natural anti-anxiety drug. It works by increasing the levels of serotonin and dopamine (mood stabilisers) in the brain. It does this by inhibiting re-uptake transporters and monoamine oxidase enzymes that break them down. It also neuro-protective. As an antioxidant, it shields dopaminergic and serotoninergic neurons from oxidative stress. This leads to a greater availability of feel good chemicals which make us feel more courageous. 

Thyme shares similarities with its kin in its use around death and love. Additionally, the souls of the dead were said to go into thyme flowers. Patches of thyme were associated with the fairies and it could help you see them. 

William Blake said: “The Wild Thyme is Los’s Messenger to Eden, a mighty Demon.” This conveys the hidden power of this familiar plant.

A Message from Vindos

The message I have received from Vindos through these plants is, ‘relax, clear your mind, remember me, have courage’. His advice, along with these herbs, is helping me to stay strong through the summer in His absence. 

I am spending time with these herbs and cooking with them. Adding parsley to salads. Making sauces and marinades from sage, rosemary and thyme.

Maybe, just maybe, I am becoming a little more relaxed, wiser and more courageous.

SOURCES

Halat, D. et al, ‘A Focused Insight into Thyme: Biological, Chemical, and Therapeutic Properties of an Indigenous Mediterranean Herb’, Nutrients, May 2022
Lopresti, A., ‘Salvia (Sage): A Review of its Potential Cognitive-Enhancing and Protective Effects’, Cross Mark, November 2016
Mussilo et al, ‘Rosmarinic Acid Improves Cognitive Abilities and Glucose Metabolism in Aged C57Bl/6N Mice While Disrupting Lipid Profile in Young Adults in a Sex-Dependent Fashion’, Nutrition, July 2023
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Sedgwick, I., Icy Sedgwick Folklore Blog, https://www.icysedgwick.com/category/folklore/

The Sanctuary is a Place not a Product

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“The sanctuary is a place not a product,” says Vindos.

That’s easy for Him to say when He’s the King of Annwn. From the heights of His golden throne. When He’s got all the treasures of Annwn arrayed around Him. Heaps of golden coins. Plates. Cups. A horn of ever-flowing mead. A cauldron that feeds a kingdom of fair folk and all the dead who ever walked there. 

He who has no fear of hunger. He who has no fear of thirst. He whose four-cornered fortress belongs to Him, is part of Him, requires no mortgage nor rent. 

And it’s not as if I live in poverty. By the generosity of my parents, I have a roof over my head, enough to eat, a lovely garden where I grow wildflowers. 

But I won’t be able to live here forever. The day will come when I must stand on my own two feet. When I must earn my living. My shamanic work is paying far better than my writing ever did but still is not enough to live off.

I take a business course. I learn some useful things. I get pulled back towards the drive to endless productivity, endless growth, attempt to go back on social media and laughably end up faced with multiple dead ends. I’m banned from Facebook and Instagram. I refuse to go on X. I try Linkedin. It’s corporate, soulless, the Land of the Vampires. Drained, I make my escape.

“The sanctuary is a place not a product,” says Vindos. He tells me to embody sanctuary and this is not possible when I’m selling my soul. “Start at home. Heal yourself, heal your relationships, only then will others come for healing.”

Start at home. Do the moneyless work. Heal my own wounds. My relationship with this place, with my family, with my ancestors. A lifetime’s work. 

“Do your soulwork,” he says. “It will pay, if not in this life, in the next or the next.”

“And as for the sanctuary?”

“Between you and I and those who come it will take shape.” 

Midsummer Shamanic Guidance Offer

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The mid-summer solstice is approaching and the first fruits are beginning to ripen. As we approach the longest day and shortest night, when time stands still, this is the perfect opportunity to take a little time out for yourself to consult with your spirit guides and to check in about what you have grown and harvested so far.

Over this period, from now until the end of June, I am going to be offering discount shamanic guidance sessions. You will get 1/3 off. This means a reduction from £30 to £20. They are an hour long and can take place in-person or online.

Sessions can include:

*An introduction to shamanism covering the shamanic drumbeat, intention setting, departure points and journeying to the Lower World, Upper World and Middle World.
*Connecting with spirits such as animal spirit guides, power animals, spirit teachers, tree and plant allies, land spirits and ancestors.
*How to build a personal shamanic practice and integrate it into everyday life.
*Troubleshooting problems such as resistance, feeling blocked, lack of confidence and motivation, sleepiness, difficulties tuning in and developing the ‘clair’ senses.
*Divinatory journeys to provide guidance on life issues.
*Tarot and oracle card readings with an optional shamanic journey.
*Building relationships with Brythonic Gods and spirits including the fairies.
*Journeying to explore Brythonic mythology and folklore.

For a free informal discussion contact: thesanctuaryofvindos@gmail.com

Review – Making Friends With Yourself by Sarah Presley

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Sarah Presley is a meditation teacher and author based in Bristol. Her book, Making Friends With Yourself: A Practical Guide on How Meditation Can Take You From Overwhelm to An Inner Calm, is part memoir and part practical guide. 

Presley shares her journey ‘from illness to wellness’. She speaks of how she came to suffer from ME and resulting anxiety and depression due to a high pressure job. She then goes on the describe her discovery of meditation and how this enabled her to establish a sense of calm and formed the ground for her recovery, leading to a successful career as a holistic practitioner and meditation teacher and to co-running the British School of Meditation.

Presley provides an account of why she meditates and how meditation can help others, including the science. She then shares some of the foundational forms of meditation along with her favourites, documents how they have helped her, and shares guided meditations for the audience to read and listen to (there are audio links to her website included). The forms of meditation include: breath awareness, mantra, body scan, guided visualisation, mindful movement, loving-kindness and gratitude. 

In her introduction to meditation, Presley talks about how she was initially resisted it because of her preconceived idea it meant silencing the mind and only calm people can do it (this is very common). Once she gave it a go she discovered: ‘we are not attempting to silence the inner dialogue. We are instead offering the mind something on which to focus which allows us to be in the present moment. This could be your breath, your body, a word, a phrase, an image, a movement, or an object.’ Distractions are normal. Noticing and returning to the focus is ‘the art of meditation.’ 

Later in the book, she talks of thoughts as our ‘friends’ and shares ways of recognising, labelling and coming to gain a witness perspective on them. Throughout, a non-judgemental attitude to thoughts and emotions is advocated.

As an autistic person who struggles with anxiety, I related strongly to Presley’s words on this subject. She speaks of how naming and fearing her anxiety perpetuated her panic and of how meditation gave her the space to be able to view her anxiety and  its effects on her mind and body from an observer’s perspective. This led her to changing its name to ‘Mavis’, giving it less power.

‘Giving anxiety a new name now meant I could view the part of myself which was feeling anxious and scared. I would be more aware of when Mavis was arriving and be able to engage the rational part of my brain to ask if the situation I was in required a visit from her. Or even if she had already stormed in, I was able to ride out her visit knowing she would be leaving soon after. After all, she was just doing her best job to protect me from what she perceived as danger. I realised the overwhelming feeling of panic wasn’t attempting to trip me up but instead was giving me something I could use to learn and grow. Most importantly, I accepted and made peace with Mavis being in my life.’

As a shamanic practitioner, I understand how dis-identifying from anxiety, viewing it as a part of oneself with a distinctive and unique personality with a function and needs, and accepting it as part of one’s life can be helpful. 

Presley goes on to share how mantra has been a big help in dealing with anxiety. When she first came across meditation and the mantra ‘Om’, she experienced a ‘a huge amount of resistance to repeating’ it due to cliched media portrayals. Instead, she chose the words ‘happy, healthy and strong’.

Presley describes how ‘mantra’, from man ‘mind’ and ‘tra’ vehicle is a ‘mind vehicle’ ‘you use to replace your thoughts’. Likewise, I have sometimes found, when I’m hyper-stimulated, anxious, or overwhelmed, more focused meditation doesn’t work and the only thing that can cut through the racing traffic of my thoughts is a single juggernaut-like thought or word – mantra. 

Presley also deals with worry and anger. For worry she recommends guided visualisation (or guided experiencing) and provides a lovely meditation where ‘worry’ is written on a pebble and then discarded on a beach. For anger, which can often be locked in the body in the form of myofascial knots (I am oh so familiar with these!), she prescribes mindful movement. She also explains how loving-kindness helps alter our neural pathways and heals the heart. 

This is a very lovely, personable and practical book that teaches all a new-comer needs to know about meditation and provides some interesting facts and personal anecdotes that will be valuable to experienced meditators too. Its strengths lie in the knowledgeable and compassionate approach taken to using meditation to help deal with difficult emotions – a territory Presley charts well. I would recommend it to all people who are interested in or already practice meditation and to those who are struggling with similar issues.

You can buy this book from Sarah Presley’s website HERE.

Shaping Sanctuary

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On the Challenges of Shaping Sanctuary in Shamanic Practice

My relationship with my home hasn’t always been one of sanctuary. Some days, it still isn’t. I recognise the irony that as soon as I decide to offer some shamanic guidance on the subject, my mum’s ceiling starts leaking, and it turns out we need a new roof and have roofers banging on the roof for two weeks!

The term ‘sanctuary’ didn’t have much meaning for me when I was young. The first time I started thinking about it was when I watched the Disney film, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, where Esmerelda knocks on the doors of the cathedral crying, “Sanctuary, please give me sanctuary.” Thus, I came to associate sanctuary with churches and cathedrals. Places I felt banned from because I neither worshipped nor felt any connection with the Christian God. 

Still, home was a safe place. The only safe place. Safe from school. Safe from the bullies (although I always feared they would follow me home). There, I could hole myself up in my room with my Playmobile riding school, with a fantasy book, with a new story to write, with characters from it to draw. Unfortunately, it was a place where I shut myself away with chocolate too.

I’ve lived in this very same house, in Penwortham, Lancashire, since I was four years old. Only a few times, briefly, have I attempted to move away. The walls recall every single one of my temper tantrums, every argument with my parents, every time I stuffed my anger and despair down with food. They held me through those times. They stood there without judgement.

They held me through my difficult teen years when I blu-tacked onto them posters of Jon Bon Jovi, Guns N Roses, the Manic Street Preachers, David Bowie, Pink Floyd, Joy Division, Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails. As I hung them with feather boas and filled my room with glitter and balloons. As my taste in music and my life got darker, they bore witness to me smoking cigarettes and joints out of my window and my heavy drinking and self-harm.

Their holding of me largely went unacknowledged. I was far too caught up in my own world, my own pain, to be aware of anything or anyone else. 

This began to change when I discovered Paganism and Druidry. When I began to tentatively reach out for relationship with the other-than-human world. I’d long been able to perceive spirits, but, as someone with an overactive imagination, was unsure how to discern what was real and what was not. It turned out I needed to stop asking that question and trust my imaginal faculties (which have long been denigrated in the Western world). 

I made contact with the guardian of this patch of land who has been here long before the houses were built. I made a clay statuette of him and began making offerings of butter. However, these went icky and didn’t feel right. Although this is a traditional offering, I’m not sure that my dad’s Morrison’s Unsalted Butter had the same meaning as homemade butter made from one’s own cow milk in pre-industrial times. I’ve tried leaving processed milk at the bottom of the garden, but that was messy and smelt bad. So, I’ve settled for prayers and attention, and that seems to be enough. 

In spite of making contact with our guardian spirit and setting up an altar to my Gods and local spirits in my bedroom, my relationship with our house as a whole wasn’t good. Outside of my room, I didn’t feel it was truly ‘my home’. It didn’t cross my mind that relationship doesn’t equate to ownership.

Although I was religious and devoted to my Gods and spirits in many ways, totally offered myself in service to Them through my creativity and devotional practices, my relationship with my home and my parents was very poor. I spent much of my time shut away, drinking and writing, living my life through the Pagan and Polytheist blogosphere, ignoring the reality around me.

My parents didn’t take much care of the house either. My mum kept it clean and did a little painting, but largely, no decorating was done since we moved in. We live in a damp area near to a drained off mossland (Penwortham Moss). Damp was coming through the walls. There was mould in the bathroom. 

“You don’t speak very good house speak,” I was told by our guardian spirit. 

Soon afterwards, Covid struck. By this time I’d realised I was never going to make a living as a Brythonic polytheist author and was attempting to volunteer my way into conservation work. My work parties were called off. With nothing else to do, I turned my eyes to the house and garden. I took carloads of my parents’ accumulations to the Recycling Centre. I deep-cleaned. I began to tackle the damp and the mould but dared not touch the bathroom. 

This changed a year later, coinciding with the arrival of a birthday present – Dver’s Mycorrhizal Dionysus. The day it arrived, the mould began to spore. I donned a mask and a hazmat suit and managed to remove it from the walls and stripped off the painted wall paper, taking it right back to the plaster. (What kind of idiot puts up wall paper in a bathroom then paints over it?). This took me over three days and another three days to apply anti-mould paint. 

It wasn’t the last time the hazmat suit was required. We have a crumbling Artex ceiling in our dining room that I was forced to patch up and paint over. 

In all honesty, I didn’t work in relationship with the house very well. I was far too angry with my parents for the years of neglect and this coloured my work. 

Yet, when it came to decorating, I did ask what it wanted and listened to its replies. House speak is a bit different to communicating with a guardian spirit. The spirit of my house doesn’t appear in anthropomorphic form. Our communication takes place more through the felt sense, through groans and creaks, through visible signs. And, of course, events, like a leak or the gutter falling down. I got a feel for what colours it wanted then integrated this with my mum’s desires. (My dad refused to accept we needed to decorate at all). 

Over the past few years, I have re-decorated nearly the whole house. Two years ago, I did my room. As I got rid of the old chest of drawers and wardrobe, replacing them with my great grandmother’s chest of drawers (I’d downsized my clothing), I felt a sense of release from the past. Those wooden beings had borne witness to all my bad habits. They were thanked and taken to be recycled. As I cleaned and painted the walls, which were grubby with smoke from when I smoked and from my candles, I felt the darkness from past years lifting, their breathing anew. The new carpet was so thick and luxurious after the old one I rolled around it like a horse on a new bed (an impromptu ritual it seemed to appreciate). I remade my altar and reconsecrated ‘the sanctuary’. The atmosphere has been lighter since. 

I’ve done a lot of work in the garden too but that’s another story I won’t go into here. What is being asked of me now by my Gods and spirits is that I be aware and present as I go about the house. Treat it all as a sanctuary. That I embody sanctuary. That my embodiment of sanctuary is reflected in my everyday relationships with my house and with my parents.

This is the core of my current work. It’s very different to when I was doing deeper trance work and writing drunkenly and having lots of visionary experiences. One might say I have become very boring. On the outside, that is true for sure, but on the inside I have grown a lot in terms of recognising and challenging my bad habits and become a safer, more compassionate person.

The shaping of the Sanctuary of Vindos remains a work in progress. It is one that requires co-operation between myself, Vindos, the Spirit of the Sanctuary, my room, our house, and my parents. 

My meditation practices have helped me to regulate my nervous system better, but I’m still anxious, stressy and irritable. I have come to accept, as the Buddhists say, these seeds will likely always be strong within me. I am learning to water them less and to water calmness and gratitude more.

Life continues to have its ups and downs. Some days, I come close to living, breathing and embodying sanctuary. Sometimes, it feels as far away as the moon.

Whether a time will come when I feel worthy of offering ‘shaping sanctuary’ sessions I remain unsure. I would be interested to hear about the experiences of others of creating sacred space and ways of being amidst the complexities and the difficulties of the everyday world in their spiritual practice.

The Seven S’s of the Sanctuary of Vindos

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During my time as a nun, I lived by vows and a rule within the Monastery of Annwn. When I left, although I gave up my monastic name, I took Six S’s of Sister Patience with me. They, plus, one more, now form the core values of the Sanctuary of Vindos. I see the guidance of Vindos / Gwyn in this as He was the patron of the monastery. 

The Seven S’s are: sanctuary, simplicity, sustainability, stability, solitude, silence and service. Here, I provide an outline of what they mean to me and how they contribute to the ethos of the sanctuary.

Sanctuary

The term ‘sanctuary’ derives from the Late Latin sanctuarium, ‘a sacred place, shrine,’ from the Latin sanctus ‘holy’. Originally, it referred to a container for holy things, then to a consecrated place for holy things (ie. a shrine, temple, or church). Later, it was extended to refer to a place of refuge for fugitives or debtors, then for any humans, then for protected habitats and animals.

The sanctuary is consecrated to Vindos, His family and my local land spirits. I tend a shrine for Him in my bedroom and I do my best to relate to the house (which I share with my elderly parents) with reverence when doing the housework. The garden is sacred to Creiddylad, Vindos / Gwyn’s consort. I work with Her and the tree and plant spirits when sowing, growing and re-wilding.

Although I cannot offer refuge due to my living conditions, I strive to embody sanctuary when I am holding space during my client work and in my relationships with family and friends.

Simplicity

Living simply, I have cut down to essentials to reduce clutter and distractions to make more time and space for relationship with the Gods and spirits. This includes food, clothes, books, ornaments, ritual objects, social engagements, group memberships and social media use.

Sustainability

Where possible, I buy locally grown and produced food and eco-friendly toiletries and cleaning and laundry products. Most of my sacred objects are either bought from local and ethical suppliers or found in my local area. I walk or cycle to most places within distance unless I need to transport heavy loads. It’s very rare that I travel by car outside of South Ribble and Preston.

Stability

Staying in the same place and paying attention to the seasonal changes year by year provides a depth of relationship with home, garden and locality.

Solitude

For many people, shamanism is mostly communal. Yet, there have always been practitioners who have dwelled alone on the edges. Hermits, cave dwellers, mad men and women. Time in solitude (from other people) helps me to rest, relax, reconnect with my Gods and spirits and receive inspiration. 

Silence

For me, silence is not so much the absence of sound but the absence of noise. The noisome content of much of the virtual world and my own inner chatter. Silence makes possible deep listening. To hear the words of the Other beyond the chunnering of the everyday and to access deeper insights.

Service

For fourteen years, I have served Vindos and the Gods and spirits of Britain through my writing and shamanic practices. More recently, I have begun to serve other people as a guide and healer. Serving someone greater has given me a sense of meaning and purpose in life that was lacking before. It has brought challenge, pain, joy, achievement and transformation.

The sanctuary and its Seven S’s provide the sacred ground which allows me to thrive and to help others to grow and transform on their journeys.

Awareness as the Greatest Offering

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On Reclaiming Awareness in Contemporary Shamanism and Polytheism

‘There is no greater offering than awareness.’ These words came from my patron God, Vindos, from an old, old form of Him who predates this name.

In prehistoric times, when Vindos was worshipped across Britain and Gaul, people lived in deep awareness of the natural world and its energetic and spiritual dimensions. This has been lost over the centuries. Indigenous cultures retain it and meditative traditions provide the key to reclaiming it within contemporary shamanic and polytheistic traditions in the West.

In this article, I cover how our awareness has been lost and look to the guidance of the yogic tradition and its Lord, Shiva, and to Vindos Himself, for how awareness might be reclaimed as the greatest offering. 

How We Lost Our Awareness

It’s my personal gnosis that Vindos, a God associated with hunting, wolves and dogs, has long been venerated by the hunter-gatherer peoples who populated Britain and Gaul and perhaps further afield. 

These people were animists, who saw the whole world as inspirited, from the animals, trees, plants and fungi, to hills, mountains, rocks, the smallest of stones. It was all viewed as alive and aware. Their culture was also shamanic. Through shamanic trance, they were able communicate with each individual awareness not only on the physical level but on energetic and spiritual levels and to access the universal awareness of the entire cosmos.

They were also polytheistic and worshipped numerous Gods and spirits. These included the Deities of natural features such as mountains and rivers and those who presided over functions such as birth, death, war and healing. These Gods were multifaceted and many performed multiple roles. 

The awareness of these people was expansive. For their survival, they depended on being deeply aware of the physical, energetic and spirit realms. 

The need for such finely honed awareness likely began to decline with the development of agriculture and more sedentary societies, who relied on the strength of their warriors and their defensive fortifications in order to live. 

With the coming of Christianity, awareness of the inspiritedness of the natural world and of its energetic and spiritual dimensions declined as people were told that nature and the body were sinful and that God and the saints resided in a heavenly realm only accessible to the righteous upon death.

Our scientific worldview eliminated the existence of spirits entirely, presenting the natural world as dead matter governed by scientific laws.

The industrial and technological revolutions have separated us further. For the most part, we experience nature and human relationships on screens.

We are suffering from myopia both theoretically and literally. This is epitomised by the 996 work culture wherein some people in the tech industry work 9am until 9pm six days a week – 72 hours in total at a screen. We lose hours, even days, scrolling news feeds and binge watching Netflix. 

The worst of the matter is that we’re not even aware of our unawareness.

Awareness in Shaivism and Yoga

In prehistoric times, the cost of a lack of awareness was death. I believe that practices designed to cultivate awareness in meditative traditions such as yoga likely date back to older animistic and shamanic cultures. These provide clues to the life-or-death matter of awareness and how it might be reclaimed.

In Insight into Reality: The Tantric Teachings of the Vigyana Bhairava Tantra, Swami Nischalananda, speaks of how yoga and tantra originate from ‘Shaivism, the Path of Evoking Shiva, a system of mysticism rooted in indigenous shamanism’. My explication of Shaivism derives from his work.

In Shaivism, ultimate reality has two sides. One is Parama Shiva – ‘Supreme Consciousness’ or Universal Awareness. The other is Shakti – matter and energy. 

Ultimate Awareness is the ground of individual awareness – that which remains constant throughout our lives and gives us the ability to know our sensory perceptions, emotions, thoughts, memories and dreams. Individual awareness is not limited to humans – all other beings are aware too. As individual awarenesses we are Shiva and as embodied beings we are Shakti. 

Unfortunately, too often, we lose touch with our awareness. This is not solely a modern phenomenon (although modernity has made it worse). It has its basis in the nature of our mind and our predisposition to lose ourselves in our thoughts and emotions. This tends to happen when we are looking ahead to the future or back upon events of the past. Our abilities to plan and to learn from our mistakes are important survival mechanisms. However, when we lose ourselves in simulations of what might happen (which is rarely the case) or what has happened (which is often skewed) we are unaware of what is happening in the here-and-now and miss out on life itself. Awareness is only possible in the present moment. 

The meditative techniques found in yoga and other traditions train us to become aware of what is happening presently by offering methods of stilling our thoughts and learning to witness them rather than being lost in them.

In Shaivism, when we, as embodied beings, realise our individual awareness, we partake in the unison of Shakti (matter and energy) with Shiva (Ultimate Awareness). The marriage of these Deities takes place through and within us.

The practice of awareness might thus be seen as the greatest of offerings.

Likenesses Between Shiva and Shakti and Vindos and Kraideti

Yoga and Brythonic polytheism have shared roots as Indo-European traditions. Both my research and personal gnosis suggest that Shiva and Vindos and their consorts, Shakti and Kradeti, shared similar roles. 

There are notable likenesses between Shiva on the Pashupati Seal and Vindos on the Gundestrup Cauldron. The Pashupati Seal, from the Indus Valley, dates to 2200 BCE. It depicts Shiva horned and surrounded by animals. The Gundestrup Cauldron was found in the Rævemose bog in Denmark and is dated between 150 BCE and 100 CE. On one of the panels is a horned figure with animals surrounding Him. He has been identified as Cernunnos, ‘Horned’, which may be another title of Vindos. Later known as Gwyn ap Nudd, He appears as a ‘bull of battle’ in a medieval Welsh poem called ‘The Conversation of Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’. Shiva and Vindos share associations with bulls, serpents and destruction. 

Shiva is well known for His third eye and Vindos appears to me with a jewel in His forehead which grants the capacity of Clear Sight. Near me, in Furness, a bronze head was found with a hole for a jewel in its forehead. It resembles a bronze head of Bhairava (a fierce form of Shiva) from Nepal.

The consort of Vindos, Kraideti (1), later known as Creiddylad, shares similar qualities to Shakti through her associations with sovereignty and fertility in a medieval Welsh text called Culhwch and Olwen wherein Gwyn and His rival, Gwythyr, do battle every May Day for her hand in marriage. 

It might, therefore, be suggested that Vindos can be seen as Ultimate Awareness and Kraideti as primal matter and energy within Brythonic polytheism. As embodied beings, we are Kraideti, and as awareness we are Vindos. Our awareness can be the greatest of offerings to these Deities.

The Practice of Awareness as an Offering

Since I began practicing yoga, the core of my path has been ‘being present for Vindos’. It’s only recently that I have come to associate this, on a deeper level, with awareness and with uniting with Him as the Ultimate Awareness.

This is something I incorporate into my yoga practice. When I am practicing yoga – asana ‘body postures’, pranayama ‘breathwork’ and meditation – I do so with the intention of cultivating awareness and entering deeper unison with Him.

Yoga, or any form of mindful movement, breathwork, and meditation can easily be built into a shamanic or polytheistic practice. Moving and intentional breathing help to calm and slow the mind and emotions in preparation for meditation. In meditation, both the mind and the body become still and we achieve deeper states of awareness. 

There are many types of meditation that we can choose from. These include body awareness, breath awareness, sensory awareness, witnessing thoughts and emotions, bringing awareness to our energy body (in yoga the pancha kosha ‘five sheaths’ and the chakras) and visualisations of Gods and Goddesses.

Drawing on karma yoga, ‘the yoga of action’, and Bhakti yoga, ‘the yoga of the heart’, we can make awareness an offering during our daily activities. When I am walking, gardening, or doing housework, I strive to be aware of what I am doing in the present moment, what’s happening in my body, and of the myriad individual awareness with whom I am interacting. Where appropriate, I attune myself not only to the physical but the energetic and spiritual dimensions. I practice this as an offering to Vindos and Kradeti and to all the beings with whom I have the privilege of sharing this earth with.

For me, the greatest challenge is being aware in situations when I’d rather not be present – such as when the roofers are banging on our roof, I’m getting to the last rep in the gym, or I’m having an argument with my dad. It’s particularly difficult when I’m struggling with anxiety about surviving in a world where my gifts as a shamanic practitioner and author are tough to make a living from. It’s times like these that the practice is designed for.  

When I am aware, when I am the witness rather than caught up in my thoughts, fears and desires, I can see more clearly. I am no longer controlled by my emotions. I can recognise my habitual behaviours, begin to understand them, to release them, to make positive changes. 

When I am united with Vindos, His Clear Light (2) grants me Clear Sight and I am able to make choices and judgements from a greater perspective.

I recognise that not all who practice shamanism or polytheism will relate to these conceptions of Shiva and Vindos as Ultimate Awareness and Shakti and Kraideti as primal matter and energy. However, it might be possible to find Gods and Goddesses who do. If not, awareness can be an offering to the beings one is aware of, to Mother Earth, to whatever one holds sacred. 

The practice of awareness frees us from subjection to our thoughts and emotions and to the thieves of awareness who are rampant in our world. In each moment of each day, we have the capacity to make the greatest offering.

Let me be aware in every moment
for You Great Vindos.

Let my life
be an offering to You.

(1) I reconstructed this name from the medieval Welsh name Creiddylad. Craidd, in Welsh, means ‘core’ or ‘heart’ as does kerd or *ḱr̥d in Proto-Indo-European. The ending is simply fashioned to sound feminine and poetic.
(2) Vindos means ‘White, Blessed, Holy’. Vindonnus means ‘Clear Light’. He cured eye ailments and, as Gwyn, He removed the Evil Eye. 

My Big Red Face

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On the psychological cost of living with rosacea

Guilt and shame

Those who have seen me recently on a Zoom call might have noticed my big red face. It’s not because I’ve been bingeing on food or alcohol. I haven’t binged on food since my early twenties or majorly binged on alcohol for four years. The last time I had nearly a bottle of wine was last December and I had such a horrendous night of insomnia with a rapid heartbeat and a minor anxiety attack that I’m sure it was the last. My heart has demanded so.

Still, the big red face persists. The critical part of me tells me it’s a punishment for my past bingeing. The physical sign of my guilt and shame. The more rational part tells me that rosacea is a chronic skin condition of cause unknown that can be caused to flare up by a variety of stressors. 

What is Rosacea?

The term rosacea comes from the Latin roseaceus and means ‘rose-coloured’ or ‘made of roses’. On the face of it, it’s an appealing term. Unless it refers to the colour of your face. It was first described in the 14th century by a French surgeon called Dr. Guy de Chauliac who named it goutterose, from the Latin gutta rosa, in relation to the primary symptom of facial flushing.

Rosacea is brought about by changes in vasculature (increased vasodilation and vascular endothelial growth) and an increased immune response. These lead to the defining symptoms – facial redness, visible blood vessels, thickening of the skin, burning and stinging, and bumps and pimples. The changes in your veins combined with the swelling make your face bigger and redder.

To boot, some people also get ocular rosacea (irritated eyes) and I am one of them. Having small itchy red eyes makes my big red face look even worse. 

Common stressors are: sunlight, hot, cold and windy weather, hot baths, hot drinks, spicy and histamine-rich food, alcohol, skin products, exercise and stress.

From Rosy Cheeks to Rosacea

I believe my rosacea has always been there to some degree. From when I was a child, people commented on my ‘rosy cheeks. This made me blush even more. I got called ‘Farmer Giles’ along with ‘Pig’. I had big red cheeks and a pot belly. My facial redness went hand-in-hand with my fatness.

When I started restricting my diet, I began wearing foundation. When I was at my thinnest, in my goth years, I had a plastered and powdered porcelain face. The fat child with her chubby red cheeks was completely erased. 

Yet, my swapping of binge eating for binge drinking took its toll. I noticed the heat in my face began to rise with the very first drink and the ruddiness began to shine through my foundation, particularly when I got a taste for red wine. 

I believe alcohol had a role in the progression from red cheeks to rosacea. The other trigger was exercising excessively and working outdoors in all weathers. I ran half marathons in hail storms and on hot summer days. I worked on the mosslands in winter gales and bashed balsam in the July heat.

I first noticed how red my face had got after my first major flare-up after being out in the sun all day doing an ecological survey on a former mossland. This was when I first began to suspect I had rosacea.

It wasn’t until I had finished working in ecology and saw a video recording of a talk I had given for Land Sea Sky Travel that I realised how bad I looked. At this point, I started researching rosacea and found out it is chronic and incurable.

Chronic and Incurable

I got a formal diagnosis from my surgery after seeing a couple of nurses and a GP. The GP I saw had rosacea herself. She said the only effective treatment is taking antibiotics for the six months of summer when it is worst. I decided against this due to the effects on my gut microbiota. 

Since then, I’ve tried using just Simple products, as advised. My rosacea has still worsened. I’ve tried some holistic skincare products that made it worse. I have more recently discovered Rosalique, who specialise in natural products for rosacea prone skin, and their cleanser and day and night creams have helped a little. I tried their foundation, which goes on green, and neutralises redness. It worked, but made my rosacea flare up afterwards, so is not a solution. 

I’ve done my best to cut and limit stressors. I no longer drink hot drinks or alcohol. I don’t have my baths or showers too hot. I’ve swapped running for four strength training sessions and two cardio sessions. I avoid chilli powder. 

Unfortunately, I cannot cut stress or anxiety, major contributing factors.

Zoom Face and my Inner Bully

The time my rosacea flares up the worst is in social situations. I get paranoid about people staring at my big red face and seeing it as a sign that I have been binge eating or drinking due to my past and cultural associations.

Zoom doesn’t help. I only recently found out about the phenomenon of Zoom Face. The wide-screen camera makes your face appear a lot wider. Having your laptop on your desk with the screen tilted creates a double chin effect. Default web cameras make your face redder to adjust for poor lighting.

These effects can be seen in the differences between Zoom and Photo Booth.

Zoom
Photo Booth

I look absolutely terrible on Zoom and try to ignore my face, but if I catch a glimpse of it and wonder what other people are thinking, it makes me even redder. 

This vicious cycle has led to a flare-up of my eating disorder voice telling me that if I exercise a bit more and eat a bit less my face will be paler and thinner. 

My inner bully is very good at hijacking my creativity and turning it against me. It tells me I look like ‘an angry beetroot’ and ‘a demented red hamster’ and that if I over-eat (ie. eat some extra nuts if I exercise more) my cheeks will get bigger and redder like Pinnochio’s nose and everyone will know I’ve been bingeing.

I know it’s lying because no amount of weight loss can undo the changes in my vasculature or the swelling and thickening of my skin due to my immune response. 

I’m also aware that the person I am speaking to is more likely to think I’m overheating, or have been exercising, or have rosacea, rather than that I’ve been bingeing. And that they’re more likely to be thinking their own thoughts and focusing on the topic we are discussing rather than staring at my big red face. 

But it’s still very difficult to live with. I’m aware there’s an element of body dysmorphia too as a remaining psychological eating disorder symptom.

Psychological and Spiritual Coping Methods

I’ve been doing my best to counter my guilt and shame with the knowledge that my bingeing wasn’t entirely my fault. It began due to bullying and my parents giving me chocolate rather than comforting me. I’m also genetically predisposed to diabetes. Together, these things led to me being addicted to the sugar in chocolate and later in alcohol. I’ve done well to get over both these addictions (albeit at the cost of developing a restrictive eating disorder).

I’ve attempted to decolonise my mind of the narratives of fatphobia and white supremacy that drive my discomfort at having a big red face and lie behind the anorexigenic ideals of thinness and whiteness.

In terms of advice from my Gods, I’ve been told to ‘be calm’ and ‘embody sanctuary’. This won’t get rid of my rosacea, but might help to calm my nervous system and dampen my overactive immune response.

I’ve found that daily meditation helps. I’ve tried giving metta ‘loving kindness’ to the bingeing parts of myself and practicing self-acceptance and self-compassion.

I’ve tried to be kinder to my face. Spending more money on nurturing natural products. Instead of scrubbing at it cleansing gently. Not scratching in the night.

I’m hoping that being open about my condition and providing an explanation of what’s happening on the outside and within here will relieve some of the guilt, shame and paranoia and lessen the voice of my inner bully and its hold.