The potted backstory of my religious/spiritual life thus far can be seen as a journey from a strict and dogmatic form of Catholicism, to a liberal Christianity, to atheism, to Druidry. But of course, it was never that simple or linear.
From an early age I loved woods and fields, coastlines and clifftops, ponds and rivers. Nature was special, and time in nature got me through some very difficult periods in my life. What I felt in nature, I came to understand, is what I was supposed to feel in church. Peace. Sacredness. Joy.
I did a theology degree, which was a formative experience that led me away from the religion I was inculcated in and to the clarity and cool air of atheism. Yet, while atheism makes logical sense, there was always something in my being that hinted at more. I needed a life-way that was both grounded in the real, natural world, and allowed for emotion, ritual, and the numinous.
So to Paganism, and from there specifically to Druidry, where I have lingered ever since, sometimes trekking deep into the forest on well-trodden paths, sometimes exploring my own way among the undergrowth, sometimes resting in a clearing.
Druidry is a breath of fresh air, it is non-dogmatic and open to diversity of belief, practice, personality and experience. As an agnostic, and as a queer person, I appreciate that openness.
Druidry is standing on the shore, singing awens with the crashing waves. It is sitting at the foot of a tree and knowing its wisdom. It is welcoming the changing seasons. It is rituals under the noonday sun or the full moon. It is a cup of tea made over a camping stove as the sun rises on a misty morning. It is loving nature in all its myriad forms and wonders.
Druidry is choosing to see all things as sacred, as magical, as worthy of honour.
Why Druidry? Because it is the scenery of my soul.
[Prompt from Alison Leigh Lilly’s 30 Days of Druidry]