Composting with Ceridwen

A couple of years ago our local council stopped taking our food waste for recycling so we decided to get a compost bin. Over this period I have come to associate it with Ceridwen. She has revealed Herself to be not only a Goddess of the Cauldron, a vessel used for cooking, but of a number of other vessels of transformation including our compost bin which takes the bits of food that don’t go in the cauldron (apple cores, onion skins, potato peelings, carrot tops etc.) and turns it into compost for our garden.

I’ve felt Her presence as I’ve learnt how it works, what it likes and dislikes, how to get a healthy balance of the food waste with greens (vegetative material) and browns (paper and cardboard) to make good compost.

One of the startling things that happened was that the comfrey plant I have kept in a pot nearby for many years seeded a number of new plants in the cracks around the compost bin. I thought about pulling them up before I realised comfrey leaves make really good compost and the plants had come to help. They felt like a gift and I believe they are likely to be included in the 365 herbs from which Ceridwen brewed awen.

As the weather grows colder composting time has to an end. The last thing I put into the bin were the pages from my novel-in-progress, In the Deep, which isn’t to be, at least in that format. It feels right to be returning them to Ceridwen, Goddess of the Awen. I pray they will make good compost.

Evidence of Monks of Annwn in The Book of Taliesin?

Inbetween my decision to rewrite In the Deep and beginning I decided to return to some of the source material. I had been avoiding The Book of Taliesin for a long long time because, as a devotee of Gwyn ap Nudd, a King of Annwn, I find his support of Arthur in the raiding of Annwn (1) and of Lleu and Gwydion in battling against Annuvian monsters (2) incredibly emotive.

Still, I took another look, and didn’t find anything I hadn’t remembered. And Taliesin’s warmongering and bragging had got no less annoying.

Then, when, I was out running this morning I found my mind wandering to Taliesin mocking ‘pathetic men’ (monks) who do not know when God / the Lord, potentially Pen Annwn ‘Head of the Otherworld (3), was born / created then referring to monks who ‘congregate’ or ‘howl’ (4) like a pack of dogs’ and ‘like wolves’ ‘because of the masters who know’ the answers to certain riddles such as ‘the wind’s course’, ‘how the light and darkness divide’.

I had always assumed those monks were Christians but as I was running the question came into my mind, ‘What if they were monks of Annwn?’ 

*

My first intimation of the possibility of the existence of previous monks and nuns of Annwn occurred during my night long vigil for my lifelong dedication to Gwyn.

I spent the first six hours alone in my friend’s living room drawing a card from the Wildwood Tarot for each hour. My first card was the Four of Vessels – Boredom. Disappointing. But not unexpected. So I sat and surrendered to the likelihood the first hour was likely to be very boring. But instead of getting bored I got very lonely and found myself lamenting that I had no tradition to follow, no-one else for support in making such deep vows to Gwyn.

Then I had a vision. I was no longer alone. I was in some kind of underground shrine, chapel, or tomb, with long lines of monks and nuns wearing dark robes carrying candles before and behind me. 

I had always thought they were monastics from other traditions who walked similar paths and had come to provide me with company but now I’m wondering if they might have been past and future monastic devotees of Annwn.

*

This reasoning might seem a bit wild particularly considering there is no evidence for monks or nuns of Annwn in Brythonic literature or lore. 

However, if we look at those lines from Talieisn, first off we find them in Preiddeu Annwn ‘The Spoils of Annwn’ wherein the bard accompanies Arthur on his devastating raid on Gwyn’s realm from which only seven return. 

Secondly, the monks are exhibiting extremely strange behaviour for Christians – congregating or howling like dogs or wolves. This would make far more sense if they were devotees of Gwyn who is associated with a red-nosed hound called Dormach (5) and the Cwn Annwn ‘Hounds of the Otherworld’ (6) and whose father, Nudd, is referred to as ‘the superior wolf lord’ (7).

Thus, it might be argued, Taliesin is taunting monks of Annwn with accusations of not knowing the mysteries of their God – Pen Annwn – when He was born / created, of the source of the wind, the division of light and darkness. These seem bound up with Annw(f)n (from an ‘very’ and dwyfn ‘Deep) as the primordial reality that ‘underlies or underpins our known universe’ (8).

*

Even further, another of Taliesin’s taunts, is that they do not know ‘how many saints are in the void, and how many altars’. Again it would seem odd if saints and altars were consigned to ‘the void’ rather than raised to the Christian Heaven. If they were Christians… yet the consignment to the void of Annuvian saints and altars would make a lot more sense. 

Read into this more deeply and we find the disturbing possibility there existed monastic devotees of Annwn with saint-like qualities who with the altars of their Gods were committed by the likes of Taliesin and Arthur to the void. 

It is notable here ‘void’ is translated from diuant ‘space, void, annihliation, death’. These monastics have not returned to Annwn, ‘the Deep’, the regenerative deep home of their God but have instead been annihilated. Their names and memories chillingly wiped by Christianity from existence. 

Could it be their voices I hear from the void at this time the veil is thin?

(1) In ‘The Spoils of Annwn’, 
(2) In ‘The Battle of the Trees’.
(3) Potentially the Christian God but another possibility is Pen Annwn, the Head of the Otherworld, as in the second instance ‘Lord’ is translated from Pen.
(4) Margeret Haycock’s translation reads ‘congregate’ and Sarah Higley’s ‘howl.’
(5) In ‘The Conversation of Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’.
(6) In the story of Iolo ap Huw in John Rhys Celtic Folklore. 
(7) In ‘The Pleasant Things of Taliesin’. 
(8) Kristoffer Hughes, ‘The Thirteenth Mount Haemus Lecture: Magical Transformation in the Book of Taliesin and The Spoils of Annwn’.

Meditating Gwyn

My breath with Your breath,
my heart with Your heart,
my feet on Your path,
You and I as one.

This piece of devotional art represents a face of my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd, who I know as Meditating Gwyn and the Inspirer. Gwyn first appeared to me in this form when I started to take seated breathing meditation seriously after finding techniques that worked for me from yoga.

Several years ago I received the gnosis that the meditating deity on the Gundestrup Cauldron is likely to be Gwyn (who may also be Cernunnos ‘Horned’ by another title) and Gwyn’s appearance in this guise confirmed it.

I had not thought of Gwyn, as a warrior-hunter God who gathers the souls of the dead, as being associated with meditation until He took this apparel. Yet it made sense in terms of my experience of Him paradoxically being not only the storm of the Wild Hunt but the calm at the heart of the storm. It also ties in with His likeness with Shiva, the Hindu Lord of Yoga, with them both being creator-destroyers with connections with bulls and snakes/serpents depicted in similar poses.

Since then Gwyn has continued appearing to me in this guise when I meditate, helping me to align my breath with His breath, my heart with His heart, keep my feet on His path and enter union with Him.

Whilst this image resembles the image on the Gundestrup Cauldron in many ways, it differs in others. You will probably notice Gwyn’s antlers don’t look like real antlers. They look more like radio antennas. I asked Him about that and He said it represents His ability, when meditating, to tune into what is happening in Thisworld and the Otherworld and sense the deaths of those whose souls He needs to gather.

Gwyn and the serpents have jewels in their foreheads. This addition has come to me in personal gnosis as I’ve journeyed with Him into the deep past, before the world was created, before humans, when He lived in Annwn amongst serpents. He and the serpents all had these magical jewels. I found no evidence of this for a long while until I saw a bronze head with a forehead jewel from Furness, Lancashire in Pagan Celtic Britain. I then learnt the serpent associated with Shiva, Nandi, has a magical forehead jewel. There are also three jewels in Gwyn’s belt which, to me, are the three stars in the belt of His constellation, the Hunter (Orion).

He wanted hair. Although Gwyn is not pictured on a cauldron I kept His silver-grey apparel as I see Him as having grey skin in His more primordial form (Creiddylad has green skin, Nodens/Nudd blue, Anrhuna grey) which I later realised fits with representations of the Gods in the Hindu and Buddhist yogic traditions.

This image on the Gundestrup Cauldron has also been associated with awenyddion ‘people inspired’ who likely used meditation and journeywork to travel to Annwn to bring back inspiration for their poetry. I see it as an image of Gwyn as the Inspirer which can be imitated by His Inspired Ones.

Vow Beads

Last week, in preparation for taking or retaking vows at the Monastery of Annwn, one of our monastic devotees led an online prayer beading session threading beads relating to our nine vows.

I received my first set of beautifully crafted prayer beads from my friend, Aurora J Stone, as a gift for taking my initial vows. I use this set to connect more deeply with Gwyn and the mysteries of Annwn.

Therefore I decided to make a simpler set to represent the vows. I chose nine wooden beads from a local supplier, with knots between them, and added the pendants of my winged horse and Annuvian hound spirits (which had lost their original ‘home’ as the necklace I wore them on had broken). For me this represented a physical binding, with the black cotton string, of my monastic vows with my spirit guides.

I am hoping that, together, they will guide me through the next three years of my temporary vows. I will be consecrating them when I take those vows on the new moon on Saturday.

On Not Feeling Monastic Enough

During my discernment process around my temporary vows I have been struggling with not feeling monastic enough. Worrying our vows at the Monastery of Annwn are too ‘lite’. That I haven’t suffered enough, sacrificed enough, that my life of devotional creativity is too much like fun.

Reflecting on whether my life is monastic enough in relation to other traditions such as Benedictine and Carmelite Christians who pray Divine Office seven times a day I asked Gwyn by divination whether He is happy for me to continue focusing on devotional creativity or if he wanted me to give up more of my time to regulated prayer. I received the following answer.

For myself as querent (centre) I got 7 of Arrows Insecurity. This suggested my asking this question is based on insecurities around not feeling monastic enough.

For creativity (left) I first got Ace of Arrows – The Breath of Life. A clear sign this is where my inspiration lies. Secondly 1. The Shaman. A powerful card showing I must continue to bring wisdom from the Otherworld through my writing. Thirdly King of Bows – Adder representing magical and serpentine energies and the snakes and serpents prominent in my books. 

For shifting focus to contemplative prayer in a formal monastic way I first got 7 of Vessels – Mourning. This shows I am mourning having no existing tradition to follow in relation to my questions about spiritual direction. Secondly 2 of Vessels – Attraction. Rather than looking to more formal traditions I should keep my focus on the relationship between Gwyn (the stag-headed man) and Creiddylad (the horse-headed woman) and their relationship and the Heart of Annwn. Thirdly 8. Stag. I should remain focused on Gwyn and my shamanistic path as an awenydd (represented by stag and drum).

Shortly afterwards Gwyn asked me why, when I have my devotional relationship with Him and all the Otherworld to explore, I’m hankering after Christianity for guidance rather than asking Him and journeying for answers. He asked me to give up looking to Christianity and I agreed. 

A scary thing about this was when I was researching Christian prayer my horse and hound spirits disappeared from my life and I didn’t notice until I made my agreement with Gwyn and they returned to me afterwards on my run.

On further reflection I have been thinking about how the restrictions and rules of Christianity drive us towards physical and mental self-flagellation and cutting off parts of ourselves, in acts of martyrdom, in aspiration to saint-like ideals. Not good particularly if you’ve got a history of self-harm.

In contrast shamanistic traditions encourage us to be whole. To recover the soul parts we have cut off, that have been cut off from us through centuries of Christianity and more recently by industrialisation, rationalism, science, capitalism. 

To undo our internalisation of harmful social constructs and to heal. 

Our environmental crisis is underpinned by one of spiritual crisis. As Paul Francis describes it ‘an epidemic of soul loss’*. Our being cut off from the land and its spirits and the Gods has led to the hegemony of the exploitative world view that has allowed the ravaging of the earth that has brought about climate change to happen.

These insights have led me to see that if I am to be a polytheistic monastic and have a leading role in the development of the Monastery of Annwn I must put aside existing ideals that are harmful and focus on those that help us heal.

My work in relation to soul loss is reclaiming the myths of the deities of Annwn (the Brythonic Otherworld/Underworld) from demonisation by Christianity. Exposing the wounds and also working towards healing them.

Thus filling the myth-shaped and God-shaped holes**, the voids at the heart of modernity, that drive our endless consumption and consumerism.

Is this monastic enough? Is this monasticism? Perhaps not as we know it. 

Yet Gwyn has told me I am a nun of Annwn and this ‘title’ refers to my depth of devotion and service to Him. That it is fitting for one who lives a life centred on Him and to the awen from His cauldron.

I feel that in my soul I have always been a nun and this essential part of my being has been denied to me by society and my internalisation of society’s norms and accepting and becoming it is now the core of my journey.

*In his video on ‘Soul Loss and Soul Retrieval’ HERE.
**Terms used by myth teller Martin Shaw in a number of his video appearances on Youtube.

Nun of Annwn Morning and Evening Devotions

These are the morning and evening devotions I have developed over the past year living as a nun of Annwn honouring my patron God, Vindos/Gwyn ap Nudd and His family and my local deities and spirits and my ancestors. It has become important that Gwyn’s name is the first thing I speak when I wake up and the last thing I speak before I go to bed.

Morning Devotions

Opening

3 deep breaths

Gwyn ap Nudd, 
White Son of Mist, 
I, Sister Patience, 
nun of Annwn, 
come this morning 
to honour You, 

my horse inside me, 
my hounds beside me, 
my crows behind me.

Song: 

Vindos*, Holy Vindos,
You are my patron, inspiration and my truth.

Vindos, Holy Vindos, 
make me yours in deep Annwn.

Prayer for at-one-ment with Vindos/Gwyn:

My breath with Your breath,
my heart with Your heart,
my feet on Your path,
You and I as one.

Breathwork meditation aligning my breath and heartbeat with the Heart of Annwn (Gwyn’s heart)

Thanksgiving prayer: 

I give thanks to the Spirit of Monastery of Annwn.

I give thanks for this monastic cell where I come in devotion to the Gods and Goddesses of Annwn, practice my practices, incubate my dreams and visions. 

I give thanks to the people who support the monastery and pray for… (space for prayers for members who need support).

I give thanks to my ancestors of spirit, land and blood and to my parents for me being here. 

I give thanks to the guardian of this place, to the spirits of this house, of our garden, to all the trees, plants and creatures, to Greencroft Valley, Fish House Brook, this land of Penwortham, to Belisama, Goddess of the Ribble. 

I give thanks to the spirits of my gym and the people who support me there.

I give thanks for my health.

I give thanks to Ceridwen, Old Mother Universe, from whose crochan (womb / cauldron) the stars were born.

I give thanks to Anrhuna, Mother of Annwn, Dragon Mother, to Your dragon children for shaping this land, to Your womb for bringing life. 

I give thanks to Kraideti/Creiddylad for flowers and fertility. 

I give thanks to Nodens/Nudd and the weather shapers for today’s weather.

I give thanks to Vindos/Gwyn for guiding and gathering the dead.

Prayer to Gwyn:

I Hail You in the Morning HERE.

Meditation

Prayer for Awen

Either Annuvian Awen HERE or Prayer to Gwyn for Awen HERE.

~

Evening Devotions

Opening (replacing ‘morning with evening’), song, prayer for at-one-ment and breathwork meditation as above

Prayer to Gwyn: 

I Hail You in the Evening HERE.

Communion with Gwyn reflecting on my day. 

Song for Gwyn: 

All My Devotion HERE

Drumming – slow heartbeat – the beat of the Heart of Annwn.

Cleansing of body and energy centres.

Prayer and communion with Nodens:

I give thanks to you, Nodens, Lord of Dreams, for this sanctuary of sleep and for the dreams you gift me. These were last night’s dreams… I pray to you for a good night’s sleep and for dreams from the Deep.

Guide me through the land of dream and back to waking the next day my Lord Gwyn.

*Vindos is the Romano-British name of Gwyn and also means ‘White, Blessed’.

Nun of Annwn Daily Routine

This is the daily routine I have been keeping as a nun of Annwn since taking my initial vows. My living at my parents’ house off savings from environmental work makes it possible for me to live a full time monastic life centred on devotional creativity in service to my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd.

Weekdays

4am Get up and breakfast

4.30am Morning devotions and meditation

5.30am Devotional creativity – work on The King of Annwn Cycle

7.30am Run or gym, shower, snack

9.30am  Devotional creativity – work on The King of Annwn Cycle

12 noon Lunch

12.30 Devotional creativity – work on The King of Annwn Cycle

2.30pm Housework / gardening / outdoor volunteering / walk

4.30pm Bath

5.00pm Tea

6.00pm Reading – Fantasy / Myth

6.45pm Yoga

7.15pm Evening devotions

8.00pm Bed

*On a Wednesday morning in my 5.30am slot I check emails, the Monastery of Annwn forum and sometimes post on my blog.

Weekends

Saturday – Outward facing

4am Get up and breakfast

4.30am Morning devotions and meditation

5.30am Monastery of Annwn, emails, work on blog / internet catchup

7.30am Long run, shower, snack

10.00am  Work on blog / internet catchup

12 noon Lunch

12.30  Work on blog / internet catchup

1.00pm Meal planning and food shopping

3.00pm Meditation in garden / drumming / journeywork

5.00pm Tea

6.00pm Reading – Fantasy / Myth

6.45pm Yoga

7.15pm Evening devotions

8.00pm Bed

Sunday – Inward Facing

4am Get up and breakfast

4.30am Morning devotions and meditation

5.30am Prayer with beads and divination / journeywork

8.00am Yoga and snack

9.00am Devotional creativity – poems, songs, art

10.00am Housework

12 noon Lunch

12.30 Reading – Myth / Spiritual

2.30pm Sacred walk to Fairy Lane

4.30pm Bath

5.00pm Tea

6.00pm Reading – Fantasy / Myth

6.45pm Yoga

7.15pm Evening devotions

8.00pm Bed

In preparation for taking my vows one of my spirit guides instructed me to draw a map of the essential parts of my life as a nun of Annwn I intend to carry with me through the next three years.

Being a Nun of Annwn – A Life of Devotional Creativity

A year ago I took my initial vows as a nun at the Monastery of Annwn. I am  now preparing to take temporary vows and have been considering how living by our nine vows and rule and being part of a monastic community have shaped my life and brought me closer to my Gods over the past year.

Our first vow is ‘to abide by the values of devotion and inspiration’. At the Monastery of Annwn we differ from other monastic traditions in that an equal amount of value is given to contemplative practice and to creativity. 

Throughout the year I have done my best to keep focused on these values. I’ve maintained my morning and evening devotions (vow three) to my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd, His family and my local deities. Through meditation and journeywork I have deepened my relationship with Gwyn and my Gods (vow six).

I’ve found much of the deepening of my relationship with Gwyn has come from the process of writing my books reimagining His story – The King of Annwn Cycle. Through journeying with Him beyond His known myths into His unknown boyhood to find out how He became King of Annwn I have walked with him, borne witness to the numinous events that have shaped Him. This has felt like an immense and a wondrous privilege and I also feel privileged to be able to share this with others in the form of the books.

Caretaking a sacred space (vow three) in my monastic cell has been a pleasure and an honour and I am striving to treat our house as a monastery. Going about my chores more mindfully and prayerfully. And treating our garden, where I grow herbs, wildflowers and some food, as a monastic garden.

I’ve had some minor conflicts around vows seven and eight – ‘to take care of my health’ and ‘to live simply and sustainably’. Running and strength training are important for my well being as an autistic person with high anxiety but are costly in terms of buying running shoes every six months and belonging to a commercial gym and paying my personal trainer (whose sessions are well worth the money in terms of learning and progressing and staying injury free).

In all other ways I keep vow eight – I do my best to eat local produce, recycle, only buy clothes if I need them, don’t travel, don’t socialise. As my training is bound up with my spiritual path in terms of becoming a strong vessel for the inspiration of my Gods and closer to Gwyn as a warrior and hunter and He encourages it I am allowing myself these excesses.

I have ironically found the vow which is closest to my heart – ‘to keep the Rule of the Heart’ – the hardest. Our rule is to follow our hearts in alignment with the hearts of the Gods and the beat of the Heart of Annwn. It has taken a lot of quandry to discern what is in my heart and what the Gods want.

On a number of occasions I have made mistakes and almost taken the wrong path on the basis of trying to do what I think society wants or what will make money. During this discernment process I have received the gnosis that I am ‘an inspirer not a teacher’ and must focus on my devotional life and creativity rather than attempting to teach workshops and courses. 

Following my heart has led me to see my calling as one of devotional creativity.

Vows five and nine  are to pray and check in regularly with other members and to play an active role in building the monastery. We are developing practices such as our co-written New Moon Prayer and Novena Prayer for Gwyn over the nine nights of the full moon. We have begun celebrating seasonal festivals based on Gwyn’s mythos and have a monthly meditation group.

Praying, meditating, celebrating, and communing with other monastic devotees on our forum has helped me feel less alone and it has been inspiring to learn how others interact with and perceive the Deities of Annwn. 

I have also been considering whether I am closer to earning my monastic name Sister Patience. I am still very very impatient in relation striving to get things done as quickly as possible and being unable to relax until they are done. 

Writing a novel for Gwyn has been an important lesson in learning patience. In contrast to poetry and short stories it is a long process not only in terms of the greater word count but the reworking and editing to make it a coherent whole. So has building the monastery as a collaborative project. In this I’m trying to learn to let go and trust the Gods and other members and to allow it to grow organically rather than attempting to push and force the pace. My slow progress in other areas – from breathing meditation and yoga to my running and strength training have all been steps towards patience too.

I will be taking temporary vows (for three years) on the new moon on the 14th of October.

The Distant Island and Coming Home

A week ago a journey undertaken for me by my spiritual mentor, Jayne Johnson, led me to meditating on a distant island within a ruined clochán. To a vision of a ‘last nun’ bricked up within a corbel stone hut with the birds of the sea and an eagle, a raven, and an owl bringing her food and stories. Alone, but for the crashing of the tides, of the calling of the gulls. Her own breath.

The next time I set out to meditate on this island I found a part of myself resisting and instead wanting to root into my home, my garden, specifically to go to our raspberry patch, to taste a raspberry, to watch the insects. 

Then, the next time I tried to depart, I was posed the question of whether I could physically give up my home, my possessions, my comforts – regular meals, my running, my gym, to exist on gifts of food and stories in that far off place.

My answer was ‘no’ and as I spoke it I felt that place being shut off for me. A crash of thunder. A dark veil coming down. Access forbidden. My connection gone.

It left me feeling inferior to those who were able to make those sacrifices. To those proper monks and nuns. Then I heard another voice telling me it’s ok to ‘come home’ and recognised it as belonging to Old Mother Universe, Ceridwen.

There is a longstanding traditon of going far away, doing extreme things, to have spiritual experiences. The Desert Fathers. The peregrini. The anchoresses who bricked themselves up. Those who go to Peru to take ayahuasca or take to the Welsh mountains or Devonian moors for wilderness fasts.

It’s not something I’ve felt the need to do or feel that it would be psychologically safe for me to do as an autistic person prone to anxiety attacks and melt downs who already exists too close to the edge of madness. 

A little like Alice I’m able to imagine a thousand impossible things before breakfast. My challenge has not been accessing non-ordinary experiences but discerning what comes from my own mind and what comes from the Gods. 

For that I need to be rooted in the land where I live, in my routine of devotional practices to my Gods, my creativity, regular meals, exercise. 

I find when I break with this I don’t get divine madness – just insanity. 

Prior to covid I did travel a little mainly to visit sites in the Welsh myths or places associated with my patron God, Gwyn, such as Glastonbury Tor and Cadair Idris. This resulted in some insights and inspiration but 99% of my awen comes from having a regular prayer, meditation and journeywork practice and from simply slogging away at my keyboard in an old fashioned writerly way.

A good many of my answers to prayers and the visionary nuggets at the core of my best poems and stories and the novels I am working on have come when I’m out running or walking locally or in the early hours in bed at home. 

For me becoming a nun of Annwn has been a homecoming not a going away.

Home from conservation and ecology work that took place on a combination of local nature reserves, wastewater treatment works and residential properties but also took me as far away as Manchester, Cheshire, and the Wirral.

Home to my room, my monastic cell, in the house I live in with my parents, which I have only moved away from twice since we moved there when I was four.

Home to our garden where I tend and grow wild and cultivated plants and herbs.

Home to my body and to learning about what with proper nourishment it can do. How far it can run, what weights it can lift, what shapes it can bend into.

Home to a life of devotional creativity centred on my relationship with Gwyn.

There’s a place for going away but also a greater need for coming home. For accepting ourselves as ourselves, for knowing not only our extremes but our limits.

The Cell of Sister Patience

A new moon. More change. I’m sitting, meditating in this space I consecrated to Gwyn ap Nudd and the deities of Annwn as a cell of the Monastery of Annwn, being guided to focus on my breath, my here-ness. On the process of becoming Sister Patience as I approach taking my temporary vows as a nun of Annwn. And I realise this virtual space, re-named Orddu’s Cave, isn’t reflecting this place or who I am.

I changed the name of this blog several weeks ago for a few different reasons. The title ‘From Peneverdant’ was no longer working for me as I live a good mile and a half from ‘the Green Hill on the Water’ after which my hometown is named. Away from the river Ribble, up Fish House Brook, through Greencroft Valley, close to its source on the edge of where Penwortham Moss was drained off. In the Kingsfold Ward very close to the once notorious estate known as ‘the Beirut of Preston’.

It was no longer reflecting my monastic turn, to the turning of my attention to tending this sacred space, the cauldron of inspiration within and without, our garden, continuing to volunteer in Greencroft Valley.

The tagline ‘In Service to the Old Gods of Britain’ was no longer working as my path was becoming increasingly henotheistic, centred on Gwyn, whilst continuing to honour His family and the spirits of Annwn and my local deities.

I felt a calling to reconnect with Orddu and her ancestors – the lineage of witches who lived in a cave in Pennant Gofid, ‘the Valley of Grief’, in an unknown location in the Old North. I found analogies between their cave-dwelling and my own retreat to my monastic cell yet ‘Orddu’s Cave’ began to feel too distant.

I now feel much happier with ‘The Cell of Sister Patience’ reflecting where I am and who I am.