Tag: Godspouse

Six s’s of Sister Patience that will live on

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With the Monastery of Annwn, I took vows of simplicity and sustainability. I simplified my wardrobe, cutting it down to three sets of winter clothes, three sets of summer clothes, a couple of things for in between, and gym kit. All but my fleeces, coats, and waterproofs fit into my great-grandmother’s chest of drawers. I never buy clothes or shoes unless I need them. I once had altars to many Brythonic gods and various spirits, but as they were little used (the only thing worse than no altar is a neglected one), I rearranged them to reflect my near-henotheistic devotion to my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd. I walk or cycle within my limitations as someone with knee issues and a cheap bike (after my last one was stolen), and do my best to buy local or at least British food.

Solitude has always come naturally to me. I love being alone (with my Gods), and only the call of the awen or the fulfilment of my shamanic vocation can happily draw me out of this state. Silence has been one of the greatest blessings. As an autistic person, exterior quiet has long been essential for me, but it’s only since exploring Eastern methods of meditation and Christian methods of prayer that I have managed, on occasion, to attain the inner silence needed to truly listen to the Gods.

I’ve lived in the same house in Penwortham pretty much since I was four years old, so stability really accords with me. Increasingly, I have no desire to travel. I’m happier and happier deepening my relationship with my home, garden, local valley, and walking and cycling in the local area. 

When I learnt I must give up the name Sister Patience, I feared her sanctuary would have to go with her. I was saddened to think of the departure of its spirit. Yet Gwyn came along and asked that I dedicate it to Him by His older name Vindos. I was absolutely delighted. It felt so right (although I had a sneaking feeling that He might have been planning for this all along…).

Another word, which I can’t include as it doesn’t begin with an ‘s’ but does have ‘s’s’ in it, and forms the spiritual core of all the ‘s’s’ is godspouse. It was as Sister Patience I married Gwyn, as a nun of Annwn, similarly to a Bride of Christ. I’m glad to say that we’re still happily wed and our relationship will live on. In retrospect I guess it makes sense that a year after we get married He moves in!

Beneath is an image from the cover of a poetry book about our marriage called ‘The Heart of Annwn’ that I wrote for Gwyn and was planning to offer to Him when I retook my temporary monastic vows this year. The book wasn’t quite good enough and the vows will not be made, but I’m hoping I might one day rework it. For now, here is the image I was planning to use as cover art.

My Husband Returns

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from one thousand battlefields
where in the dreamtime
He still gathers
the dead.

He is alive.
They are dead.
They will not return.

I think of all the widows
and what a gift it is to be
married to an undying God

who comes in the old armour
and military garments

of all the ages who have fought

and the funereal attire,
black coats, blacker hats…

of all the ages who have wept.

My only tears are tears of happiness
and my laughter is the laughter
of the fair folk who
for once didn’t laugh at our wedding.

His only tear carries the memories
of the astonishing and today
it is for the many and for me alone.

A poem celebrating the twelfth anniversary of my meeting with Gwyn ap Nudd at the Leaning Yew. At this time of year He returns from His sleep in the Castle of Cold Stone for Mis Medi ‘The Reaping Month’ (September). It is the first time I have celebrated our meeting and His return since our spiritual marriage.

Married to Gwyn in Life and in Death

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I have an announcement to make. A happy announcement. One that may come to you partly as a surprise and partly not at all (as it did to me). 

Gwyn and I got married! – A sacred marriage between a God and a nun of Annwn.

The moment Gwyn and I met and He revealed His name and His face I fell in love with Him and knew that I’d known Him from time’s beginning. 

It’s taken a long time for me understand the nature of that love, which has taken many forms – of the love between patron and devotee, of teacher and apprentice, of inspirer and inspired one, of truth and one who receives truths.

For many years that we might be beloveds – married as bride and groom, husband and wife – was completely unthinkable to me as someone who is asexual and aromantic and found the language of love soppy and sentimental. 

Another reason is that although Gwyn saved my life and my sanity and has been there for me through the toughest of times it’s taken me a while to become open to the possibility that He cares about me let alone loves me.

This changed when I had my first soul retrieval with my spiritual mentor, shamanic practitioner and wild therapist Jayne Johnson, in March. Jayne knew Gwyn is my patron God but didn’t know the meaning of Gwyn ap Nudd, ‘White son of Mist’ or His earlier name Vindos / Vindonnus ‘White / Clear Light’ or about His associations with Gwynfyd, ‘Paradise’. 

Before we began Gwyn told me He would oversee the soul retrieval and I told Jayne. The landscapes she journeyed were covered with mist and she came across an area of thick mist and an incredibly bright light and felt confused – like she was in the upperworld although she was in the lowerworld. The mist revealed an ancestor who led her to my lost soul part –  the young girl who had fled the trauma of school to the stables. Gwyn appeared to carry her back and Jayne blew her into my heart. The experience was incredibly moving and I was astonished to learn Gwyn cared.

This tied in with my experiences of the Heart of Annwn as Gwyn’s Sacred Heart. Of my playing a heartbeat on my drum every night to unite my heart with His and with my offering my heart to Gwyn several years ago and its travails in fire and ice before Him returning it to me on His feast day last year. 

More recently attending a shamanic workshop in London led me to discovering the Tyburn Convent and the Christian mystics whose experiences of the Sacred Heart of Jesus related to mine with the Sacred Heart of Gwyn. In the writings of these Brides of Christ I found descriptions of sacred marriage as a spiritual union that was neither sexual or romantic.

At the workshop, for the first time, I practiced being possessed by my spirits – my winged horse, my hounds, my crows, Orddu and all her ancestors. My teacher, Simon Buxton, described this as a form of sacred marriage / hieros gamos.

When I returned home, Gwyn asked, “Why have you denied me?” 

I could provide no answer beyond my fears of that kind of intimacy with a God so intense, so terrifying, so beautiful and of what other people might think.

On Nos Galan Mai He asked the question: “Will you marry me in life and in death?”

Knowing I couldn’t deny my love for Him, His for me any longer, I said “Yes.” 

On Nos Galan Mai we got married in life. An amusing side story – how I got the ring. Many years ago I was told to get a ring as an offering for the river Defwy, a river in Wales that is also a Brythonic river of the dead, and found a fitting ring with a black stone in a charity shop. It turned out I never visited. Gwyn admitted it was a trick as I would never have got the ring otherwise. It turns out it fits perfectly on my wedding finger – He knew I’d marry Him then!

After Gwyn fought his yearly battle with Gwythyr on Calan Mai and died and returned to sleep in His tomb in His Castle of Cold Stone I married Him in death. This took place as the finale of a shamanic burial ritual. I have rewritten the Yorkshire folk ballad, Scarborough Fair (in which a woman completes impossible tasks to win a fairy lover), loosely based on my experiences.

The Land of the Fair

Chorus: 

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

Verses:

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

I can’t say anything else about our sacred marriage in life and death only that  as the final result of it Gwyn has become ‘the Heart of the my Heart’. He is within me, me within Him, like in the mystical unions of the Brides of Christ. 

My heart has been opened to Gwyn, through this opening to others, to the nuptial spirituality of the Mystics of the Sacred Heart and fellow godspouses.

I am now happily married as a nun of Annwn and Bride of Gwyn.