Gathering Space for Epiphany, 2022

This January night on Iona in the North Atlantic is crisply cold at 9 degrees Celsius, 48 degrees Fahrenheit. The moon, waxing towards her fullness, has parted the clouds as she would pull aside curtains, offering us her light as we come to the Garden of the Ruined Nunnery. Tonight we will celebrate Epiphany together, so some of us are carrying trays of Christmas baking, thermoses of hot cranberry punch, and small wrapped gifts that are meant to be symbols of light. The tent flap is held wide, making room for us and our many bundles to enter.

Once inside, we find places for the food, beverages and gifts on a long covered table on the far side of the tent. When we come to take our places in the circle, we see that the planning committee has already placed beautifully illustrated booklets on each cushion. We gaze at the artwork that adorns the cover page, and at the title below:

By Way of the Heart

We look around our gathered circle of beloved friends, emitting tiny pops of surprise as one by one we notice a woman seated among us whom we have not met. Noreen stands to introduce our guest: "Tonight we are blessed with the presence of someone who has come to Iona, to our Gathering Tent, for the first time. Yet this woman is not a stranger to us, for her poetry has been inspiring our hearts and nourishing our souls for years, most recently at the time of the Winter Solstice when we read her 'Blessing for Longest Night.' For several years now, our guest, who is a poet, artist, and spiritual writer, has been offering a yearly Retreat for Women's Christmas. Tonight she brings us selections from her Collection. Let us welcome our guest: Jan Richardson."


Noreen bendsto light the fire pot, and returns to her place as Jan begins to speak:


"I am happy to be here with you women, friends drawn together in Communion around the Creative Fire of your lives, to offer you this time to rest, to reflect, and to contemplate where you are in your unfolding path. Mindful of those who traveled to welcome the Christ child and who returned home by another way, we will turn our attention toward questions about our own journey.

"To begin our time together, I offer you a Blessing poem:

Constellation

A Blessing for Women’s Christmas


Consider that the heart

holds its own constellation.

Consider that it has

a secret chamber

radiant with unspent light.


Consider this when you cannot find

that one star, that dream

that compels you to the road.

When every last thing seems

to have disappeared into dark,

consider that you cannot always know

how you bear this brightness

but that it holds you

and is not wasted

or lost.


See how we share this sky,

how it stretches above us

beyond every border,

how every day

turns each of us

in steady revolution

through morning, night,

morning again.


Or think of it like this:

that every heart is its own voyage,

sending its vessels out,

drawing them back again,

never by the same way they went

but still somehow making for

home, that place

that shimmers now in welcome

with all the gathered light

you had thought

you could not see.


There is a sacred silence as we ponder Jan's words. Then Jan invites us to read the four stanzas aloud, as a choir , with first the left side of our circle reading a verse, then the right, as was the way with the ancient nuns who once lived here on Iona.

Following this reading in choir, Jan invites:


"Consider what helps you put the pieces of your life together: the experiences you carry, the scraps of your story, the fragments that seem jagged and painful as well as those that you think of as beautiful. What response—in words, in images, in prayer, in movement, in stillness, in conversation, in solitude—helps you recognize and honor the pieces and put them together in a new way, making your path as you go?


"I bring you tonight a story of a woman who is well known to you through her writings, a woman who had the courage to tell us what she learned of Divine Love on her own life-path.

"On a day more than six hundred years ago, in the English town of Norwich, a woman walked into a cell attached to the parish church. She intended to remain there for the rest of her life. Her original name is unknown, and the cell where she would live as an anchoress—a woman devoted to a life of contemplation and solitude—no longer remains. It is likely that she took her name from the church in whose cell she lived: the Church of St. Julian.



"Nearly everything we know about Julian of Norwich comes from a manuscript she composed in her cell. In it she tells of how, at the age of thirty and a half, she became desperately ill. Just when she seemed at the point of death, her pain suddenly departed. As Julian continued to pray, she received a series of sixteen visions, which she called 'showings.' These visions primarily are of Christ on the cross, who reveals the face of joy and love to her.


"Julian recorded her visions in a short text. Nearly two decades later, she wrote a longer text that incorporates the insights she gained through years of reflecting on and praying with the visions. Together Julian’s texts became the book known as Showings, or Revelations of Divine Love.


"In the final chapter of Showings, as she comes to the end of the remarkable work in which she reveals to us a God of endless mystery who knows and loves us in all our human particularity. Julian writes: And from the time that it was revealed, I desired to know in what was our Lord’s meaning. And fifteen years after and more, I was answered in spiritual understanding, and it was said: 'What, do you wish to know your Lord’s meaning in this thing? Know it well, love was his meaning.


'Who reveals it to you? Love. What did he reveal to you? Love. Why does he reveal it to you? For love.

'Remain in this, and you will know more of the same. But you will never know different, without end.'


Once more Jan invites us into silence to receive these words. Then she asks this: "As you stretch yourself into loving others, what becomes revealed to you—of them, of yourself, of God?"


"How has love challenged or changed what you know?"


"How are you opening yourself to its presence in your life?"


After we have time to consider these questions, Jan says, "I have one more poem to offer you before we begin our celebratory feast together:

Beloved Is Where We Begin


If you would enter

into the wilderness,

do not begin

without a blessing.

Do not leave

without hearing

who you are:

Beloved,

named by the one

who has traveled this path

before you.

Do not go

without letting it echo

in your ears,

and if you find

it is hard

to let it into your heart,

do not despair.

That is what

this journey is for.

I cannot promise

this blessing will free you

from danger, from fear,

from hunger or thirst,

from the scorching of sun

or the fall of the night.

But I can tell you

that on this path

there will be help.

I can tell you

that on this way

there will be rest.

I can tell you

that you will know

the strange graces

that come to our aid

only on a road

such as this,

that fly to meet us

bearing comfort

and strength,

that come alongside us

for no other cause

than to lean themselves

toward our ear

and with their

curious insistence

whisper our name:

Beloved.

Beloved.

Beloved.


The singing bowl tells us our reflection time is over, and yet for some minutes all is stillness as we breathe in what we have heard, felt, seen and understood.


Now it is time to celebrate with food and drink and gifts. We express our deep gratitude to Jan whose life is offered to others as a pathway to their own wisdom, as they recognize and learn to follow their own star.

Happy Epiphany!

Winter Solstice Dawn at Newgrange, Ireland Gathering Space for Winter Solstice 2021


Each of the Sacred Nights from now until the Feast of Christmas holds a darkness that arrives early, stays a long while, is scattered at last by a late dawn. We have decided to experience the darkness fully, to find its gifts. The garden of the ruined nunnery on Iona is inky black, a blackness pierced with what might look to a passerby like stars fallen to earth, but are actually tiny flashlights carried by our Communion as we make our way towards the Gathering Tent.


Inside, there is no need of flashlights, for the large space is illumined with candles that shine from every flat surface. At the centre of a circle, formed by careful placement of brightly coloured, intricately patterned silk cushions, there sits our fire pot, already burning a welcome.


We take time to exchange greetings, to look into the faces of our companions, to see reflected there the same suppressed excitement. The long autumnal darkness is about to end. But tonight we celebrate its gifts.


The Celebration of Light and Love will follow in a few days’ time.


Quiet settles on us. We wait in expectation.


Mary Ellen rises, goes to stand beside the fire to read a poem by Pablo Neruda:

Nighttime,

my nighttime,

night of the whole earth,

you bear something

within you, something round

like a child

about to be born, like a

bursting seed:

it’s a miracle,

it’s daylight.

Your beauty is all the greater

because you nourish this budding poppy

with the darkness that flows in your veins,

because you work with your eyes closed

so that other eyes may open

and the water may sing,

so that our lives

might be born again.

After Mary Ellen returns to the circle, we hold Neruda’s words within us, wondering how each of our lives might be born again.


Karen comes forward to speak: ‘The poet, Rilke, writes often of darkness. This dark space for him resembles the hub of a wheel, a pitcher, the hold of a ship that carries us through “the wildest storm at the edge of all”, the grave earth under the tree, the lower branches of a pine, the darkness at the edge of a bonfire. 'Rilke’s darkness is something out there and at the same instant it is far inside. Once a man or woman inhabits that dark space, he or she finds it hidden inside objects, in walnuts or tree roots, in places where people don’t ordinarily look for it. In one of his poems, he says, “…no matter how deeply I go down into myself my God is dark, like a webbing made of a hundred roots that drink in silence.”

'In another poem Rilke writes:

“You darkness, that I come from,

I love you more than the fires that fence in the world

For the fire makes a circle of light for everyone,

and then no one outside learns from you.

But the darkness pulls in everything:

Shapes and fires, animals and myself,

How easily it gathers them!

Powers and people—I have faith in nights.”'


Rita stands to read from Judith Duerk's Circle of Stones:

“I am so aware, at my age, of light and dark. Earlier in my life, I was all light, swift, clever, bright. I dressed in primary colors and abhorred anything that I considered slow, dull, muted.

“It was only when I lived through the summer solstice light, far above the Arctic Circle, the light of the longest day in our year, the totality of white, ever-pervasive light, day after day, that I experienced our desperate need for darkness, for shadow, for relief from the clarity, sharpness, and rationality that this present world demands….a need for soft lines, blendedness, greys….to respect one’s need to be sometimes out of focus, unformed, blurred.

“Now the winter returns, the darkness…the year come full circle again…a chance ... to sink into one’s own stillness…a time to feel one’s fatigue, the aches of life, one’s own age, to reconnect ... with deep, dark earth-energy, hidden far below in our roots.

“The winter is for us to nurture ourselves in that same way —a long time of preparatory darkness and inchoateness… a very long time to nurture and to begin to begin to bring forth …. A time when it is in the natural order of things to be still, to rest in the quiet blackness. A time to trust that one will be refreshed and brought again to new creativity just as is all the rest of nature… to trust, once again, in the cycles of light and darkness in nature herself and within one’s own nature.”


Suzanne reads from Wendell Berry:

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.

To know the dark, go dark.

Go without sight, and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,

And is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.


Now Ellyn comes forward with a poem by Jan Richardson:

Bless those

Who know the darkness

and do not fear it,

Who carry the light

And are not consumed,

Who prepare the way

and will not abandon it,

Who bless with grace

That does not leave us.


The readings are ended. A soft persistent drum beat is heard, accompanied by the sweet soaring notes of a flute. We slowly begin to rise, to spread out through the tent, to dance to the rhythm.

After the music and dancing, there will be stories, our own stories of darkness and light. There will be feasting, for a long table is already spread with food and wine.

We shall spend this longest night together and then we shall go outdoors to greet the dawn of Solstice.

Gathering Space for the Communion: November 4, 2021

It is the dark of the moon as we enter the Garden of the Ruined Nunnery. The blackness of the sky makes the stars appear diamond bright on this crisply cold evening on the Island of Iona. Pulling sweaters, shawls, jackets more closely around us for warmth, we stand still in the night air to gaze in wonder at the feast of light high above us.

Inside our Gathering Tent, we see our Communion Quilts laid out on the floor, forming a seating area around the fire pot. Elspeth is standing outside the circle of quilts speaking with a woman whom we have not met before. The woman is holding a violin.

Once we are seated on the quilts, Elspeth speaks to our circle:

“Kate Fitzpatrick is a good friend of mine who lives in County Kerry, Ireland. Kate, as you see, is a musician as well as a writer whose work appears regularly in “The Mythic Voice”, her online Blog illuminating the events and times in which we live. When Kate arrived on Iona just after Samhain, I invited her to visit our Gathering Tent to share her thoughts with you.”

Elspeth takes a place among us on our quilts, while Kate speaks:

“When Elspeth told me about you and your weekly Gatherings here among the stones of the Ruined Nunnery, I was eager to come to meet with you. These times invite us to expand our friendships so that we might circle the globe in spirals of love. Before offering you my reflections on this time of Samhain on our planet, I’ll first allow my violin to speak for me.”

Kate lifts her bow, places her violin under her chin. The melody begins. As we listen, images arise from with us, ocean waves washing the shore, bringing hope, the promise of a new dawn…


When the music ends, Kate places her violin carefully on a side table and comes to sit within our circle. “In crossing the threshold to Samhain on 31st October,” Kate begins, “we have the ancient energies of the land coming to meet us and take us into the Cave again. This is a cave of transformation, rebirth, gestation. It is the death of the year and the beginnings of a new one taking form within. It is the Cave of the Feminine – the womb, and a time to surrender.

“This year, I believe, we are being asked to become lighter, clearer and more in resonance with a higher light of the Divine Feminine. All patterns of Patriarchal control and domination of this earth are being demolished.

“And what I believe – is that the Gaia, our Earth Mother - is spitting out abusive patterns one by one. With Earthquakes, volcanoes, breakdowns in many systems, this is helped by the power of the other planets and the beings of light from many places in our Universe that are collectively committed to this evolutionary change. "Gaia - within us and around us - is raising her vibration of Light.

“Centuries of abuse are being purged from the Earth. In the mythic sense, I see it not as an issue of ‘Climate Change’ nor a need for ‘Climate Control’ but rather that Mother Earth is taking her power to become free of this horrendous abuse to her and all her children. She is settling this score once and for all. Humanity will no longer be able to use her riches to dominate and control the beauty of the earth, nor the creatures and kingdoms that live within it. As all patterns of abuse are being purged, we keep in step with her as we release our own issues and regrets. We can, therefore, go with her to a higher, healed place.

“What I imagine also happening – is that the Divine Feminine Light of Source is coming in more and more to meet the Earth Mother and she is rising up to meet this new light. When they meet – perhaps in 2022 as many would say- it will be a union of Earth and Heaven. By our steep climbing and resilience to let much go from our lives - we too we can be a part of this.

“We are a part of that flow and right now - every day - every step we take - we are helping to release the energies needed for that Union. A Healed Feminine will exist in one whole body of light. New Earth Risen. A healed Masculine energy rising from the ashes of old systems - is a phoenix reborn and ready to meet this liberated Divine Mother.

“I have journeyed for more than thirty years in the search of Feminine Healed light and her integration with a healed and whole Masculine that is held in divine union. On and on and on, harrowing and endless it seemed as we progressed through the years. Never, ever giving up that journey to the Light.

“In the past few months I have the ever-increasing sense that we have now arrived at what we were looking for. I cannot put this into words. I cannot even understand it myself. But in every cell of my body and in the flow of each precious day, I know this: In the clear-seeing of patterns being shown to me, and as I tackle every challenge thrown in my path by the forces that would resist the upgrade of Earth to a place of light and truth and healing, I know, in the whole of my heart, that this world is changing forever and that what we have steadfastly held as our life’s vision for New Earth, is about to manifest. Blessed Be.”

After she stops speaking, Kate’s voice seems to resonate within our circle. No one among us can think of anything to say or ask. We remain awash in light. Elspeth, looking around our circle, understands. “I wonder if you would play your violin again while we absorb what you’ve offered,” Elspeth asks. Kate agrees.

As we listen, lost in her music, we are also aware that we have been found.






Ritual to Celebrate the Season of Samhain Gathering Space for October 28, 2021

The night is wet with rain as we approach our soggy Gathering Place, the garden of Iona’s Ruined Nunnery. Something is different this evening. We sense, then lift our gaze to see, a canvas tent whose bulk now fills the whole of the grassy area within the low stones of the former Chapter House.

Its open doorway is flapping in the light winds, but plastic sheeting keeps the rain from entering. Our Seasonal Gathering Tent has been raised, offering shelter from the autumn rains, from the coming cold and snows of winter. Memories of its sheltering warmth, inner beauty fill us with delight as we enter.

Many of our companions are already here, have settled on the large cushions patterned in squares of beautifully-toned fabrics. Some of the cushions have been embroidered with scenes inspired by Iona’s history: the arrival of the boat that brought Columba and his companions to this island in the sixth century; designs that recall the Book of Kells which was created here; depictions of the wild goose, a Celtic symbol of the Holy Spirit. And look! Here are our quilts of many colours, hung with care against the bare inner walls of the tent, offering layers of warmth, additional protection against the outer cold that will come with winter.

Dimly, we hear the rain as it dances on the top of the tent. The sound only adds to the feeling of being enclosed in warmth, sheltered. Though the air outside is still mild, the chill of the rain invites fire. People begin to look with expectation towards the fire pot which sits at the centre of our circle. Suzanne stands and walks towards it. The oil receives the lighted match, and a bright orange flame leaps into view.

Suzanne speaks: "Tonight we celebrate our yearly return to our Gathering Tent. This is the eve of the Feast of Samhain, the doorway to winter in the Northern Hemisphere. For the ancient Celts, the three days that we now call Hallowe’en, All Saints’ and All Souls’ were one feast, marking the year’s end with a three-day festival. It was for them the time when the year turned from the bright masculine season with its intense activity of planting, growing, harvesting. They welcomed the quieter days of winter.

"Tonight I invite us into a Ritual. Together we'll release into the cauldron of the Cailleach something which is raw and painful in our lives, something which is not yet resolved or completed.

"Ask yourself what you are willing to release/sacrifice into the cauldron at this festival of Samhain so it can be transmuted by the power of Fire and Water and the energy of the Cailleach into nourishing creative energy for your journey. " To Sacrifice means to be willing to let go of something in order for something new to be born into our lives. Be conscious of choosing to release something in your life that no longer serves your true self. "I invite you as you feel ready to stand and walk to where the cauldron now sits in the midst of our circle. Make a gesture with your hands of dropping into the cauldron what you wish to release, as you say these words:

“I release …………. into this cauldron. "May it be transformed and transmuted by the power of Fire and Water and the dark feminine energy of the Cailleach into nourishment for my soul journey. "

Let us pray these powerful lines from John O’Donohue’s poem for ourselves our friends and families:

“May all that is un-forgiven in me/ and everyone be released

May all fears yield their deepest tranquilities

May all that is unlived in me and in everyone blossom into a future, graced with Love”

After we have each completed our Ritual at the Cauldron, Suzanne speaks: "Tonight we close our Samhain Celebration with a ritual that awakens inner fire, reminding us of who we are: the Communion of Creative Fire. Ellyn has offered to lead us in this sacred movement, so let us stand to be ready to begin:

Ellyn comes to stand beside the fire pot and speaks: "Standing at ease, we become aware of the earth beneath our feet, the embrace of air and light on our bodies. We move our awareness inwards, to the deep centre of ourselves. Here is where the fire burns that ignites our passion for life. Let us hold our attention on this inner fire. Imagine it as a small flame. Now see if our inner gaze upon it makes it grow stronger, steadier, hotter.

"This is the fire at the heart of our being, the source of the love we send forth to others, to people on the planet we have never seen, to places where there is a hunger for peace, for food, for shelter. This fire is the source of our impulse to reach out through our work, our service, our caring, our wisdom, our strivings to understand life and all it requires of us.

"But this fiery centre is also the dwelling place within us of the Holy One. Love awaits us here, awakens us to joy, to the knowing that we are worthy, and beautiful, and held in a love more tender and deep than we can imagine. "The Sufi poet Hafiz says it best: There is something holy deep inside of you that is so ardent and awake …

"This inner fire of love, received and given, is the holy heart of our communion. It is present in the depths of each of us, and each of us is invited, called, to awaken this fire, to tend it, so that its flames become a burning that radiates forth to the Communion, to all those we love, and finally to all of life.

"Some gentle movement will warm us, while reminding us of our task, our great work: Stretch your arms upwards and imagine the sky above our tent. Imagine the heat of the sun on a summer day so that you feel it in your outstretched hands, on your palms. "Now lower your arms to just above your head and draw the sun’s warmth in through the crown of your head. Imagine it passing down into your body to the place of inner fire, adding warmth and light. Now slowly, gently, bend forward, and with your outstretched arms, scoop up from the earth the heat that is in the belly of the planet herself. Draw it upwards as you slowly stand. Now draw it into your body, into the heart of your being where it meets the light you have drawn in from the sun. Stand at ease, your eyes closed, as you imagine the fire of the earth and the fire of the sun meeting in the deep centre of your being, increasing the fire within you. AHHHH. Breathe slowly in and out for a few moments as you feel this inner fire growing, filling you. "Then with a gesture of giving it away, send it forth as radiant light and love to the planet.

"This is a simple practice we may do each day, as we remember our Companions in the Communion of Creative Fire, and imagine them standing in a circle around us."


After this time of sacred movement, the joy of being restored to our Gathering Tent spills over into excited conversation and laughter. And yes, some of our Communion members have come prepared to celebrate Samhain with home-baked pumpkin pies, chocolate witches, and light honey wine. Let the feast begin!


Gathering Space for October 21, 2021

The cool air of early evening brushes our skin, ripples our clothing. As we come into the Garden of the Ruined Nunnery on the Sacred Island of Iona, the sun has not yet set, though its patina of gold offers little warmth. October is moving swiftly towards the Celtic Festival of Samhain. The dark quiet feminine time of the year will soon be here.

Once we are within the stones of the low walls we stop, gazing in wonder at the sight before us. The grassy area is crowded with long tables, covered in an enticing array of baked goods, woven scarves, shawls, small paintings, handmade pottery, clay cups and plates, jewelry… Have we fallen through a worm hole in time? It looks like a Medieval Faire!

Someone is coming towards us as we stand transfixed by this vision. Our friend Elspeth is smiling, greeting us. Now we know we’re in the present time.

"What's happening?" Karen asks. "What is all of this?"

Elspeth's smile broadens. Her grey eyes are warm with delight: "This, my dear ones, is our Harvest Fair! We've brought the goods not already purchased last week by the tourists drawn here to Iona. Since you began holding your Gathering Space here, some mysterious energy has increased the flow of tourists. "Come. Move around the displays. Enjoy all that we’ve brought for you. There’s hot apple cider, mulled wine, scones, cakes, pies. If you’re drawn to something lovely, a necklace or bracelet, a shawl or scarf, it’s yours for the asking. The village of Iona offers this as a thank you for all you’ve brought to our small island."

What joy to mingle, to greet the other women from Iona, many of whom we’ve met on past visits. Some are the quilters who created the magic carpets of colour for our Gathering Space. We explore the craft table with delight, each choosing a either a beautiful piece of jewelry, or a colourful scarf, or a warm hand-woven shawl. Then we choose cider or mulled wine and sample the baking.

Afterwards, drawn by the crackle of flame, the scent of burning wood, we gather around the fire pit which the women from Iona have created. Its welcoming blaze invites us to stay a little longer. We find places to sit on the grass, feeling the fire's warmth, sipping mulled wine.

Once everyone in our Communion has formed a circle around the fire with the Iona women, Clara asks a question that many of us have wondered about.

"Elspeth, what do you know of the beginning of this Nunnery? Are there any stories of its founding, or of the nuns who lived here so long ago?"

"Well now, I’m glad you asked, Clara." Elspeth’s face is lighting up with a storyteller's eager joy. "You may have heard of the great Celtic Scots leader Somerled, known as Lord of the Isles? He had a dream of uniting the Irish and Scots Celts, at the time when Viking raiders were attacking the isles. He is honoured for creating a Celtic Renaissance and through his wife, Ragnhild, daughter of Olafr Godredsson, King of the Isles, claimed for himself and his descendants the Kingdom of the Isles.

"One of his unfulfilled dreams had been to bring Irish Monasticism to Iona. In the last year of his life he attempted to persuade the Columban monastic community in Derry to relocate from Ireland to Iona, for this sacred island was within Somerled's sphere of influence.

"Unfortunately for Somerled, his death denied him this hope. Somerled was slain in 1164 at the Battle of Renfrew, during an invasion of mainland Scotland while he was commanding forces drawn from all over his kingdom. We believe that Somerled was buried here on Iona.

"Somerled's son Reginald, founded the nunnery in 1200 and installed his sister, Beatrice, as its first prioress. It was one of only two Augustinian Orders in Scotland. The nunnery earned itself the name 'An Eaglais Dhubh' - the black church - after the colour of nuns' robes.

"Unlike the rest of the Abbey buildings, as you know well, the nunnery has not been restored since being made derelict during the Reformation. The pink granite walls that remain, despite being ruinous, are amongst the best examples of a medieval nunnery left in Britain. Little is known of the nuns who lived here. Like the Benedictine monks, they followed a strict life of prayer and contemplation. A few clues have been left which shed some light on aspects of the nuns' lives. For instance, the tomb of Prioress Anna Maclean is so detailed in its carving as to give a clear depiction of her dress. Some of the nuns were thought to have fled to the nearby Island of Mull where they lived in a cave during the Reformation. This cave is called the 'Nun's Cave' and is to be found on the coast at Carsaig on Mull. It has crosses carved into its inner walls."

While Elspeth’s story unfolded, the light of evening faded. Darkness now enwraps us like a cloak. Deep silence pervades as each of us is lost in our own imaginings of those long ago times, of the mysterious life that went on for more than three centuries, of the terror of the nuns' escape to the Island of Mull.

"What a sad story!" Colette says.

Elspeth stirs as if waking from a dream. "Sad? I’ve never thought so. Does this Garden feel sad to you? You know there’ve been a few times when I’ve been walking here in the evening and heard music, ethereal, lovely, as though coming from far away. There was one eve of Samhain…. But no, that story is too strange for such a night as this.

Low murmurs begin, sounds of wonder, of awe, grow louder. Our companions are looking upwards. We follow their gaze. The full moon is rising above the Garden of Iona, clothed like us in an aura of colour.



Gathering Space for October 14, 2021

Galadriel’s Mirror: Part Two

This evening, as the women of our communion come into the Garden of the Ruined Nunnery on Iona, each looks about the grassy enclosure, then beyond to where trees obscure a pathway. Some of the looks are hopeful, expectant; others are cautious, a few even fearful. No one has yet spoken.

Finally, someone asks, “Is she here? Or do you think she is coming?” A chorus of questions follows. Everyone seems to be wondering about Galadriel. Will she return? Will we have another opportunity to gaze into her Mirror?

Kate is looking thoughtful. “If I understand Galadriel, her coming will depend on whether or not we want her to return.” Kate pauses while we take this in, then she asks, “Well do we want her to come?”

“I’m not sure I want to know anything more than what I saw last time,” Carol says. “It will take me a while to really understand it.”

Colette agrees. “Once is enough for me, too.”

“I’m wondering…” Clara begins, and everyone looks her way. “Well, I just wonder how it would be if we asked Galadriel to show us something about our whole communion, since we’ve each had our chance to see a personal vision.”


This suggestion is greeted with relief, even enthusiasm. The mood of the group quickly shifts to a subdued excitement.

“How shall we invite her to return?”

Yet no answer is needed. Galadriel is already standing among us, gesturing for us to follow her along the path that leads to her mirror. In moments, we are gathered around the tree-shaped pedestal, watching as Galadriel fills her silver ewer with water from the nearby stream, pours it into her shallow silver bowl.

“Do not stand too near, and be careful not to touch the water,” Galadriel advises.

“Make a large circle allowing two metres between each of you, so that everyone can see the surface of the mirror.”

Although we seem to have only arrived minutes before, the sky is now fully dark.

There is no moon. We gaze upwards towards more stars than any of us have seen or even imagined. There are so many that it is impossible to make out the shapes of the familiar constellations, riddled as they are with flickering lights within and around them.

“Now look carefully at the surface of the water, and wait,” Galadriel says.

And so we gaze, and wait. And wait. And wait.

Someone whispers, “There is nothing to see.” Another voice says, just as softly, “I don’t think anything is going to happen.”

“Quiet,” Galadriel speaks in a voice of command. “You must wait or the vision will not come to you.”

We see a bowl. It holds dark water. The surface begins to fold as though someone were blowing a breath of air across it. The folds grow larger until they look like waves. We are gazing into a dark sea whose waves rise and fall and rise again. At the edge of the bowl a tiny radiant star is rising until it stands above the waves. A guiding light.

“Star of the sea”, someone whispers. But no one hears, for now on the surface of the sea, a little boat has appeared. It is enclosed, made of wood, looking like an ark from a child’s picture book. It moves over the waves, rising and falling with them. The tiny star is leading it forward.

Suddenly the vision fades. We are looking at a bowl of water that holds starlight in its clear unruffled surface.

“What did you see?” Galadriel asks.

“A sea.” “A ship”. “A star.” The responses carry disappointment.

Now the white lady smiles, and seems on the edge of laughter. “But what did you desire to see?”

It takes us a moment to put the expectation with the result.

Yvette speaks: “We hoped to see a vision for our Communion. Who we are. Where we are going…. Might it be all of us inside that ark, floating on a sea, not certain where we are going, but guided by the Star of the Sea? ”

Galadriel’s smile is warm. “What is the meaning of that title, “Star of the Sea”?

Colette asks: “Isn’t that a title of the Sacred Feminine?”

Suzanne is excited. “Yes. It is one of the ancient titles of Isis in Egypt. And it is also a title of Mary. Stella Maris in Latin. Star of the Sea.”

The mood is shifting from mild disappointment to wonder, to awe. Galadriel looks at each one of us. “Do not be afraid. You are on a journey together across the sea of faith to an unknown destination. You are being guided by the presence of love, the ancient feminine form of the Sacred: Wisdom Sophia. Be joyful, for you are greatly loved.”

Suddenly she is gone. We make our way back to the Garden of the Ruined Nunnery, guided by the light of uncountable stars.

Gathering Space with Galadriel Part One October 7, 2021


 There is a stillness to this early evening. It wraps itself like a magic cloak around us, as singly or in two’s or in clusters of friends, we come into the Garden of the Ruins of Iona’s 13th century Nunnery. With the earlier darkness of Autumn, especially on this night when the moon is in darkness, stars are becoming visible. We find spaces to sit on our Communion quilts of many colours at respectful distances from one another. COVID continues to hover about our planet, requiring us to respond with wisdom and care for ourselves and for others. The usual energetic twitter and chatter of greetings is softened by our cotton masks, lovingly sewn by Elspeth and her friends here on Iona, with a design stitched on each showing a scarlet flame. The sound of our voices creates a low murmur, more a quiet stream than a babbling brook… until it quiets further into a sacred expectant hush. It is Noreen who finds words for the moment. “It’s as if something awaits us. Something wonderful.” Ellyn asks, “Might it be Sophia? We have been reflecting on her presence in our lives. Perhaps she is here with us.”Mary Ellen suggests, “Maybe we should invite her to come to us, as Solomon did? Didn’t he write, I asked and the spirit of Wisdom came to me? Shirley is looking puzzled. “It doesn’t feel like Sophia, who is always with us and within us. It feels more like an imaginal presence, an archetype, someone who represents Wisdom.”Heather speaks, “Whoever it is, we need to welcome her. Just ask her name, and why she has come.”Hesitantly, Corinne speaks now: “This might sound impossible, but what about Galadriel, the Lady of Lothlorien in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings? Galadriel shows wisdom reflected in her water mirror.”Carol adds, “That’s an ancient Celtic practice called scrying. I wish we had Tolkien’s book to know how to do it.”Anne Kathleen says, “I have my copy. I never go anywhere without it. Let me find the page and I’ll read it aloud:”They saw, as if she came in answer to their words, the Lady Galadriel approaching. Tall and white and fair she walked beneath the trees. She spoke no word, but beckoned to them.
Her eyes on the page, Anne Kathleen cannot see what the others do. As the words are read aloud, the Lady Galadriel comes, enacting her own movements just as in the story. Magically, the Garden of Iona is transformed into the place described. The Communion members, as though under an enchantment, follow Galadriel.
Turning aside, she led them toward the southern slopes of the hill… and passing through a high green hedge they came into an enclosed garden. No trees grew there,and it lay open to the sky. The evening star had risen and was shining with white fire above the western woods. Down a long flight of steps the Lady went into a deep green hollow, through which ran murmuring the silver stream that issued from the fountain on the hill. At the bottom, upon a low pedestal carved like a branching tree, stood a basin of silver, wide and shallow, and beside it stood a silver ewer.
With water from the stream Galadriel filled the basin to the brim, and breathed on it, and when the water was still again she spoke. “Here is the Mirror of Galadriel,” she said. “I have brought you here so that you may look in it, if you will.” The air was very still, and the dell was dark, and the Elf-lady beside (them) was tall and pale. “What shall we look for and what shall we see?” (they) asked, filled with awe.
“Many things I can command the Mirror to reveal,” she answered, “and to some I can show what they desire to see. But the Mirror will also show things unbidden, and those are often stranger and more profitable than things which we wish to behold. What you will see, if you leave the Mirror free to work, I cannot tell. For it shows things that were, and things that are, and things that may yet be. But which it is that she sees, even the wisest cannot always tell. Do you wish to look?”
Looking up from the book, seeing the Communion members have disappeared, Anne Kathleen goes in search of them, arriving just in time to hear Galadriel’s question, the response from each woman: “Yes.”
And so begins the most magical of all our rituals on Iona. One by one, each woman steps forward to stand beside Galadriel. In the clarity and strength of her presence, each one looks without fear into the mirror.Now it is your turn. Come forward. Do not fear. Look into the water. Wait while the clouds on the surface clear. What do you seek?What do you see?Take the time you need. Afterwards, you may wish to move a little apart to make notes on your experience or to draw or dance what you have seen/felt/ glimpsed/ understood.


Gathering Space for September 30, 2021The Dark Feminine As we come into the Garden beside the ruins of the 13th c. Augustinian Nunnery on Iona, we stop to gaze upwards. The Harvest Moon is waning, now in her last quarter.“The moon is an image of the Sacred Feminine,” comments Kate. “She is light in our darkness. Sometimes she is herself wholly dark. "The dark feminine.”
The ruffling wind rises, stirring the cool air of this September night. We have grown to know Iona's fickle charms, have come here warmly covered in long sweaters or cozy jackets, carrying blankets to sit on, or to wrap ourselves in. We want to stay outdoors, gathered here under the Moon’s benevolent gaze.
We join our companions who are already seated in a circle on the grass around the fire pot. Several conversations are occurring all at once as greetings and news are shared. When the excited chatter subsides, and silence rises like a healing zephyr, Kate stands to speak.
“Just above us the moon is rising. Tonight what still remains of her radiance brings us joy. Yet we know her light is not always with us. Like the Sacred Feminine, the moon too has her dark side. I have brought some writings to share with you on the Dark Feminine. The first is from the Jungian writer Sylvia Senensky. This passage from her book, Healing and Empowering the Feminine is especially appropriate now as voices are being raised across the planet calling us to awake to our responsibility for our planet, for all that lives upon her in oceans, rivers, lakes and air, all that cannot thrive unless the Earth herself thrives and heals from the depredations that human activity is causing.
Senensky writes: We have come to a time when we can no longer remain silent. We are being called upon by the sorrowing and powerful Dark Feminine to know our own darkness and the profound richness of all dark places, even when they are laden with pain. Through her we know the mystery of existence and the sacredness of the cycles of life. We learn how important the destruction of the old ways is to the rebirth of the new. When she steps into our lives and awakens us, we can be shattered to our core, and we know, as we see the tears streaming down her face, that she too is holding us in her compassionate and loving embrace.We need to know her as the source of life in the material realm, and to know her sorrow at how we have so unconsciously set out to destroy her...our Mother Earth. She is calling upon us, each in our way to do our inner work, to become her allies, to become the best human beings we know how to be; to allow our creativity, our compassion and our love to flow to ourselves and to all life forms on this planet. This is the lesson of the Feminine we all need to remember. We need to honour our earth and all creatures, human and other, that she supports. We need to nourish ourselves, each other, all children, and the unbelievable creative potential within each human being....As we come to a place of love and compassion for ourselves, our struggles, and our own vulnerable humanity, we will at the same time begin to kindle a similar compassion for others. Love attracts love. If we flood our planet with loving and transformative energy, our actions will begin to mirror our feelings. We will come home to ourselves.
There is a time of quiet as we allow these words to resonate within our hearts. After a time, Kate continues: I invite you now to join with me in a contemplative practice that I engage in each morning, sitting in quiet stillness.I invite you to become aware of your breath, gently breathing in the healing sacred Breath of the cosmic Spirit of Love, sending it forth as a transformative healing for the whole world. Let us together hold this intention as we stay focused on the Spirit's Breath -- in and down through the chakras -- and out to wherever the Spirit desires to move with her healing presence and benediction. In the stillness, we spend time allowing the Breath of the Spirit to move in us, through us and out to the world. We continue this practice for fifteen minutes.…………Now Kate speaks once more: A prayer arose from within me as we engaged in this breathing together. I would like to share it with you: I sit in this gathering spacein silence and thanksgivingaware of Wisdom's sacred Presence.
She wraps me gently in her cloak of knowingassuring me againthat Love holds this pregnant universein compassionate, creative embrace,that Hope awaits with outstretched armsexpectant hands cupped to receivethe promised new birth.
In silence she offers me her cloak of knowinginviting me to rememberher constant Presence and her giftingof Creative Love and Expectant Hope. Who else would like to share with us a prayer, an image, a poem, a thought that arose for you during this time?

Gathering Space for the Communion of Creative Fire We gather to celebrate the Autumn Equinox September 2021



This September evening of the autumn equinox greets us with surprising warmth as we arrive at our gathering space. The garden of the Ruined Nunnery still holds bright flowers: black-eyed susans, tall golden sunflowers, asters, anemone, the purple flowering spikes of vervain, the small blue michaelmas daisies, and the brilliant, if unkind, goldenrod.

Are they, like us, finding it hard to let go?


Yet the mood as we gather this evening is one of joy, a celebration of this lovely weather as long as it wishes to stay, the joy of settling on our quilts of many colours between the low stone walls that hold lingering warmth from the day’s sunlight.


Once we are each seated, and have greeted one another, we look about to see who might begin the evening’s sharing.


Anne Kathleen speaks: I have a poem about the Autumn Equinox to read for you this evening:


Balance

precise, precarious,

between day and night.


Earth readies herself to tip into autumn

leaning into loveliness of rare, golden September light

explosion of vermilion, scarlet sumac, rich madder maple, orange, sienna, yellow amid everlasting greens...


Earth in autumn is at her most alluring,

Her womanly last hurrah of intense beauty

before she freezes into Ice Queen.


I try to summon up sadness for summer’s passing

for warm nights lying on sand under meteor showers

the embrace of lake water cooling sunbaked skin

the morning watch for deer, for heron, for wild duck,

the evening wait for wild sweet calls: whippoorwill, loon, wolf.

I love these things the way I love exotic places,

thrilling to visit, leaving me hungry for home.


Who else has memories of summer to share?


Yvette speaks: Nature as seen in the changing seasons has always fascinated me. Walking in woods, visiting a local botanical garden, strolling on sandy beaches, gazing at the stars, hearing early morning birds warbling, laughing at scurrying squirrels and rabbits nibbling clover ~ these and many other moments in nature nurture my soul... speak to me about who I am.


Mary Ellen speaks: The wide vista visible from my apartment has contributed to my summer reflection. I feel part of the greater whole, and my spirit is one with the ever-changing scene of the sky, and the relationship of the Earth to the Sun and the Moon. Four years ago the Solar Eclipse brought alive the wondrous relationship between Earth, Moon and Sun. We participated in this sacred drama unfolding. Millions of people in North America and further, joined in this sacred ritual. We experienced at a visceral level our dependence on the Sun for life and warmth. And for a few moments, we had a sense of Oneness.


Clara speaks: To have immersed myself in nature this summer has been restorative and renewing. To listen to the waves, to feel the breeze from the trees, to listen to the birds, to walk the country roads, to swim……all this was like being bathed in the embrace of Sophia’s love. I sensed I was given much and I received these gifts with a heart full of gratitude at the extravagance and lavishness of the Divine.

Yet I am always longing for a deeper communion with the universe, people and the world. Hurricanes, fires and floods becoming ever more destructive with each season, the typhoons and earthquakes across the planet… these are a constant reminder of how climate change is creating chaos and havoc in people's lives. So many have lost their homes, their possessions, and are experiencing feelings of grief, frustration, fear.


Anne Kathleen speaks: In the midst of our compassion and suffering for/with so many who share our home planet, this poem by Wendell Berry helps us to remember and honour the wild things who share their peace with us:

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting for their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Let's reflect for a few moments now on the gifts of this summer for which we are grateful.


We have been, in recent years, honouring the Seasons in the Celtic Way. With the Autumn Equinox here, let us reflect during our Sacred Hour on the question that Dolores Whelan suggests in her Celtic Calendar:


What is it that is now complete in my life?


Dolores offers us this “Prayer at Autumn Equinox”

As this cycle draw to a close,

May I have the discernment to harvest what I need

and release what is no longer useful for me.

May it be so! And so it is!

Sounds are stirring in the garden just beyond where we are seated. Is that a tinkling of crystal? Yes! Some of our companions are arranging bowls of autumn fruit and berries on a long table, beside plates of chocolate chip cookies,the last of the summer wine. It is time to celebrate!

We gather on September 9, 2021 to share our thoughts on the spiritual journey we are making together.
The Chapter House of the Nunnery stood here in this garden on Iona eight centuries ago. It was the place where those 13th century women gathered to share what they'd heard in their deep listening to the Voice of the Presence of Love within them. When each woman who wished to speak had been heard, the Community would consider and decide how best to follow the guidance received in prayer by their members. What new beginnings, what fresh ideas, what actions seemed called for? On this September evening, as we await the rising of the new moon, we listen to the words of our companions in the Communion of Creative Fire. In this ninth year of the Communion's story we've been invited to reflect on our shared journey. It is our moment of Trasna, the Crossing Place. Come, find a place to sit on the grass or to perch on the stones of the ruined walls. Let us together listen deeply to the voices of our fiery friends as they speak of their experience, their hopes and longings. How might we respond to each one? What newness do we hear us being called to as a Communion? Heather is the first to speak: I joined the Communion of Creative Fire almost 2 and 1/2 years ago in a time of deep grief. The road ahead was painful and yet the weekly reflections stirred me to written expression and spirit-led thoughts of healing. I was on a journey of self-discovery, amid the chaos that comes with grief. Would I choose to go back? No, for the embers are no longer smouldering. I have laid down my load and am much lighter in movement. Where am I called to next? I don’t know and it is indeed a “mist enrobed future” but I am curious and willing to surrender to a grace-filled trust and move forward. How does this relate to the Communion? I have changed over this time and part of this change was birthed in the weekly reflections that sometimes spoke to me and sometimes not. There is a reason for every season in my life. It’s what I do with it that makes the difference. Where are we being called to go next? … I have sensed a deep fatigue among the women who have difficulty staying focused. I sensed that fatigue within myself at times. There is a shifting going on and we are off balance a bit. There is an energy that vibrates and calls me to a higher level of consciousness, a new awareness…I choose to continue our journey in whatever way it presents itself.
Suzanne: As I reflect on our Trasna, the spiral path has fed my soul. For the next phase, I am intrigued by Jean’s Houston’s latest, “The Quest of Rose”. Perhaps, participants could get the book and do the exercises together.
Colette: Interestingly I have purchased…“The Quest of Rose”. I have just started to read it. It certainly could be a possibility.
Shirley: For me, our human journey has been one with constant change and many opportunities for growth. All the precious information you have shared gave much to aid me on my life journey which I am so grateful for. What have we gained? I have gained insight, deepened my spirituality. courage, strength, hope and trust.How have we grown or changed? Well, for me trying new ways of connections was a brilliant idea.. The zoom calls are more of a connection, and are a symbol of how we are open to new ways when the old no longer works.Where are we called to go next? I see the need for more advocacy work for our wounded, suffering Earth and as I get older I have to find new ways to move forward with this. For me, our call is to be light bearers wherever we are. I am open to Jean's book!
Yvette: I would be interested in reading a Houston book together as you suggest. For me, the journey together has been progressive. There have been comings and goings as Psalm 121 tells us. I have always been faithful to reading Communion reflections and have written when I feel moved to do so. And, I write and read reflections in the way Mary Oliver speaks about life: “Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” I often respond to the group or to someone in particular. I do receive responses from individuals. I have come to know a lot about our members who post frequently enough.Given personal experience, I would say: some of us have come to know one another quite well. Of course, I feel closer to those who do post and/or respond to my posts. I think where we have grown most in COMMUNION, is when we meet online as a group. Your effort, Anne Kathleen, to bring us together in this way is, to me, of utmost importance. There are areas in my life’s interests that would not have deepened, expanded, and grown without your postings and your reflections. I thoroughly enjoy when members write about their doings, their comings and goings, their struggles, their joys ... I have no idea to where we are being called ... except to follow the leading of God’s Spirit. SHE will lead us, guide us, prompt us, encourage us, AND strengthen our bonds. We WILL be led individually and together to go into a future full of hope, a future that will draw those of us who are older to share our life-giving maturity with those who are younger and offer us new life and energy. Mary Ellen: I am wishing to…reflect on where we feel called in the year ahead and in our lives going forward. This is something on which I have been pondering for some time. I would say that I feel called to keep discerning the important integration of ENTERING DEEPLY INTO THE JOY AND STRUGGLE AND SUFFERING OF OUR WORLD AS IT MOVES TOWARDS UNITY, LOVE AND FREEDOM AND A GROWING CONTEMPLATIVE, MYSTICAL INTIMACY WITH THE DIVINE EMBEDDED AND MOVING IN ALL. Bridget of Kildare is a "light" and model for me. I believe the Communion has always been about this, and so my desire would be to continue the journey at a deeper level. Perhaps Jean Houston's latest book would be perfect for this. Karen: I have not been directly involved with much of the group’s journeyings. It feels as if I have been on a different path. That being said, when I have ‘listened in’ to the group, I have felt a deep connection with the members’ individual stories and experienced a resonance with the nature of the journey – the quest to honour the inner fire. My engagement with the group began to be more sustained and active around the onset of Covid. My heart sang and sings to see women, some of very advanced years such as Noreen, who continue to be alive to life and to the spirit within. This has been encouraging to me as I have sometimes lost faith with this – and my life-journey has taken me into the shadowlands of just ‘making do’, ‘coping’ and ‘getting through’ which has sometimes led to a desire for the end – i.e., to turn around, return to the village and die by the dying fire. As a child, I sought a relationship with the Earth – to know Her in Her beauty and power. As the call has evolved, it has come more and more to be about listening and speech – how my speech, and its attendant gestures, might touch the Earth and receive their impulse from the sacred in the Earth. This path involves really observing the Earth – through drawing and nature study as well as contact with animals – key aspects of listening. Poetry – ancient spirit lyric, my own writing and the sounds of epic narratives of old – are foundational to the speaking. (I am doing this work now with two online groups and an effort to establish an arts and culture centre.)I really now seek the sacred as it has been lived on Turtle Island and in the land here – and how that particular flavour of spirit related to the rest of the world. For so long, I cast my eyes and heart abroad.My desire is actually to be listened to by other human beings – to be a part of their journey; to touch them. Much of my life’s work has involved ‘fitting in’ to others’ programs or agenda. In the sculpting from the outside, I have often felt closed in upon myself. -- as if I were guarding a hidden treasure that was gestating and waiting with my breath and being to be born to its purpose and its joy.I am not certain that Creative Fire is the right place for me to speak that voice. There is a mode of speaking with which you are all familiar and from which you receive inspiration and nourishment: I have no wish to disrupt that or place my needs upon it. This is mostly why I have remained more on the periphery, occasionally enjoying and celebrating he warmth of your process. I am not certain about this; thus I share this with you to determine if I am to be more fully present in your path forward. After we have listened to each woman's experience, her questions, her thoughts about the way ahead, we take time in our own Sacred Hour to ponder what we have heard. We may wish to respond to some of the women personally. What do their words say to us about the call to our Communion as we continue our sacred journey together?