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Polly’s Law: a duty of care for the Earth


‘If you care, you can move mountains.’ These were the words of the extraordinary Polly Higgins, who devoted her life to creating a law to criminalise ecological damage, a law to protect the Earth. Polly died on Easter Sunday, taken suddenly by cancer during an extraordinary week in climate history. Across central London and several cities across the world, tens of thousands were taking part in non-violent acts of civil disobedience under the banner of the Extinction Rebellion; student leader of the School Strike for Climate movement got all the political parties at Westminster to sit down together and discuss the climate crisis; and it was Earth Day, celebrated by a billion people worldwide. It was also the day that the Easter Sunday bells of Notre Dame were silent for the first time in 800 years, the day that about 250 people were killed by suicide bombs up and down Sri Lan

Polly Higgins, the Earth’s lawyer

Yes, these are crazy times and sometimes it seems as though the whole world has gone mad. But something else is happening too, something remarkable and precious. We are remembering something wonderful that is deep within us, something we had thought we had lost. We glimpsed it as we silently watched the great spire of Notre Dame burn, the shock plunging us into our hearts. The connection was there for a brief and precious moment – before the babble and the voices started all over again, drowning it out. Nevertheless, it is undeniable. We are collectively waking up, starting to step out of our comfort zones and realise that we are here for the biggest show on Earth. The voices are many, the songs varied but slowly they are harmonising into one refrain. Will humanity, or will humanity not turn the evolutionary corner from treating our planet as a commodity to be bought and sold, to collectively stepping into our roles as guardians and protectors of the fragile and delicate ecosystem on which are lives also depend?

The message is clear and simple, scientists, activists and reformers have been saying it for years. Greenpeace, Noam Chomsky, Secretary-Generals of the UN, the IPCC all tell us that we are facing climate breakdown, biodiversity loss and ecological collapse if we do not limit global warming to 1.5 degrees – now. Their voices were like cries in the wilderness, or if we heard them we chose not to listen. It seems that it would take a sixteen year-old student to do that. ‘We are facing an existential crisis,’ says Greta Thunberg. ‘We must act now to create a shared vision of change, to create a world that is fit for future generations.’ After her meeting with politicians in the House of Commons last week, Michael Gove echoed her demands. ‘The time to act is now, he said. Greta, you have been heard.’

Iceberg’s calving in Iceland (author’s photo)

Indeed it is now imperative we not only hear, but act. As our human population has increased, so has our impact on the natural world. The burning of fossil fuels to power, heat and light our world is the main source of CO2 emissions, but our use of plastics, pesticides and technology is causing pollution and plunder on unprecedented levels. Our impact on biodiversity is causing a mass extinction, our use of plastics is giving rise to a whole new layer in the geological record named the Anthropocene. But it is not too late, there are some simple solutions. We clearly need to phase out fossil fuels and replace them with renewables, we must manage and protect our oceans, reduce meat and plastic consumption, plant more trees and stop cutting them down to plant palm oil or make cattle farms. To rewild the wild.

The good news is that we have all the information we need, and there are some frameworks in place. Under the Paris Agreement, we are committed to reducing CO2 emissions by 45% from 2010 levels by 2030, to reach net zero by 2050. According to the IPCC, we have all the tools in our tool box to successfully limit climate change to 1.5 degrees.  We don’t need science to invent a magic machine to suck CO2 out of the atmosphere, we can’t buy our way out of it, and we certainly shouldn’t intervene with drastic measures that would upset the delicate homeostasis of the Earth.


But we do need to make different lifestyle choices, and this means changes to our behavioural patterns. This is the rub, what we are resisting. Climate change and consciousness change are linked. We cannot do one without the other, and when we do one the other will happen automatically. And it is already happening, slowly but surely, like a seed planted in the ground, it has taken root and just needs more care and attention to make it grow into the shoot – like the one in the ‘Banksy’ picture. We are waking up to the fact that it is ultimately the future of our own species that is at stake. The Earth will survive, we might not.

We need people who are aligned to a cause, we need Greenpeace activists to highlight our follies, David Attenborough to tell us to halt biodiversity loss and re-wild the wild, Greta to get school children to care about their future, Extinction Rebellion activists demanding that we must act now. And most of all, we need a law to protect the Earth, for we must align our heads with our hearts if we are to change our consciousness.

That is what Polly dedicated her life to. To bring about a law at both national and international level to hold to account perpetrators of long-term severe damage to the environment. In her words, she was ‘realigning human law with natural law to take it back to the sacred trust that we all hold in our hearts.’ It’s not just ‘big corporations’ that need to clean up their act, though it is clear that this needs to happen, it’s down to each one of us too. How we take responsibility for ourselves on a microlevel is important, as this is what ripples out. Each one of us has a duty of care to the planet we call home, to protect the natural world, to protect life. And we need to expand this duty of care to a collective one. Polly has left us a framework to do this, she assures us that it is possible, even straightforward. She has now passed the baton, to Jojo Mehta and the rest of the ‘Ecocide: Change the Laws’ team, and to all of us too. She showed us what is possible when we step out of our comfort zones, she is daring us to be great. And she is assuring us that together, we can make it happen.

Beltane: Of Flower Brides and Green Men

The ancient festival of Beltane is celebrated at the beginning of May when the sexuality of life and the Earth itself is at its peak and now turns to conception and the initiation of a new life force. This is when the Greenwood marriage was celebrated, the union between the May Queen, or the Flower Bride, and the Green Man, the young oak king or the Jack-in-the-Green. Even today this ritual is still re-enacted in villages around the country, where a May Queen decked in flowers weaves the ribbon of the male pole, symbolising the fertility of the god, in a dance that follows the spiral of life.

Traditionally Beltane began when the hawthorn blossomed, drenching trees, hedges and paths with scented petals like the scattered confetti of a bridal feast. The blossom was taken into the house and used together with mead and cake in handfasting ceremonies, where a couple tied hands with a red chord bound in a figure of eight and pledged to stay together for a year and a day. It was also the time when everyone went to the fields and celebrated the Greenwood marriage; children born to these couplings nine months later were considered sacred.

Beltane is above all a fire ceremony when bonfires are lit to honour the sun and its role in bringing forth life on Earth. It was probably named from the god Bel, a complex composite god originally belonging to the Sumerian/Babylonian (Bel = Baal = Lord) pantheon, and then adopted by the Celts as their sun god. This was when a special fire was lit called the Tein-eigen (‘teine = fire in Gaelic)[1] and everyone would gather together and jump over it to purify, cleanse and bring fertility. Cattle were also driven through the smoke to protect them from disease. Afterwards everyone would take a spark of this original fire with them to rekindle the home hearth. There is also some evidence that bonfires were lit along special places that were aligned to rising sun at Beltane, giving rise to some huge scale alignments such as the Michael Mary line. [2]The fires were lit on top of mounds and aligned Heaven and Earth, drawing down and harmonising energies, renewing the sacred bond afresh each year with this sacred act.

There are two stories about Flower Brides, or May Queens, and they are both told in the Mabinogion. In keeping with the prevailing Welsh culture of the early Middle Ages, the stories are told from a male perspective and the female protagonists appear somewhat lacking in their own authority. However, as ever there are deeper thread discernible just below the surface.

The first story is about Creiddylad, the beautiful daughter of Lludd Silverhand. She was fought over by two men, ‘carried off by one before the other had slept with her.’ Acts of revenge were carried out between the two parties, until King Arthur himself heard tell of it and came north to settle the dispute. He decreed that ’the maiden should remain in her father’s house, unmolested by either side,’ and there should be battle between the two ‘suitors’ each Beltane ‘for ever and ever, from that day till doomsday.’

So Creiddylad in this way, remained the eternal May Queen around which the seasons revolved, fought over by the holly and the oak king, or the powers of the waxing and waning sun, locked in a continuous battle for supremacy as a result of the yearly seasonal cycle.

The May Queen in the second story also has two male suitors, but of quite a different form. This is the tale of Bloueuwedd, the flower bride, created for the son of the goddess Arianrhod (more on her later) by his uncles to thwart his mother who declared he would not marry a mortal woman. Together they ‘took the flowers of the oak, and the flowers of the broom, and the flowers of the meadowsweet, and from those they called forth the very fairest and best endowed maiden that mortal ever saw.’ [3]She was duly presented in marriage to Arianrhod’s son, who changes his name throughout the story, but here is called Llew Llaw.

After they have been married a while, he leaves her alone in the castle and goes to visit his uncles who have promised him some land. However, in the meantime a hunting party arrives and Blodeuwedd invites the leader of the party into the castle. They immediately fall in love and ‘she knew great joy at heart, and their talk that night was of the affection and love that they had conceived for the other.’ [4]Losing no time, they plot to kill her husband on his return.

Showing a degree of cunning that has earned her a reputation for betrayal, Blodeuwedd tells her husband that she fears for his untimely demise. He tries to reassure that this would not be easy for in order to die, he must be killed with a spear that was a year in the making. Not only that, but the manner of the death is very specific. ‘By making a bath for me on a river bank, and making a vaulted frame over the tub, and thatching it well and snugly too thereafter, and bringing a he-goat and setting it beside the tub and myself placing one foot on the back of the he-goat and the other on the edge of the bath. Whoever should smite me so, he would bring about my death.’[5]

Bloudeuwedd listens demurely. ‘Why’ she replies, ‘I thank god for that. That can be avoided easily.’

Armed with this information, her lover gets to work and fashions the spear needed to kill his rival. A year later, once they have their plan in place, Blodeuwedd once gain feins concern and asks her unsuspecting husband to demonstrate how he might meet his untimely death. This he dutifully does and as he stands precariously with one foot on the bath tub and the other on the back of a he-goat,  her lover jumps out and stabs him with the spear. Llew Llaw flies up in the form of an eagle and gives a horrid scream, and after that he was seen no more.

But that is not the end of the story. Llew’s aggrieved uncles once again come to his rescue and set out to find him. Eventually they find a maggot covered eagle and sing him out of a tree, changing him back into the form of a man with the tap of a magic wand. Llew Llaw is in a pitiful state and it takes him a year to get his strength back. But then he comes back to the castle where his wife and her lover are ensconced to seek revenge. Blodeuwedd’s maidens are all drowned in a lake whilst trying to escape, but she herself survives. For her is reserved the fate of being turned into an owl ‘so that she may never show her face in the light of day, and that there be enmity between thee and all the birds and that it be their nature to mob and moles thee wherever they may find thee.’[6]

So, it could be said that the flower maiden, made as the perfect wife to serve her husband, falls in love and thereby empowers herself. This enables her to take the sort of ruthless action that those  deprived of choice must take. But she must take responsibility for her action as she matures, symbolised by the owl, an ancient symbol of wisdom and cronehood. She also achieves independence and self-determination in the end (the owl), and like Creiddlydd, remains connected to the cycle of nature for ever more. Her suitors also face each other in combat, but unlike in Creiddlydd’s story, her lover is killed, though only after he has served as the king, or consort for allocated time (the timings are very precise in this story). So in this way, the story may be perceived in terms of the May Queen, goddess of the land (Sovereignty) and her two suitors, the holly king and the oak king, or the Green Men, who act as consort to the goddess, forever locked in an eternal cycle of waxing and waning, linked to the seasonal power of the sun.

[1] http://www.goddessandgreenman.co.uk

[2] ‘The Sun and the Serpent’ by Paul Broadhurst and Hamish Miller

[3] The Mabinogion, ‘Math Son of Mathonwy,’ 1991, Everyman

[4] As above

[5] As above

[6] As above

The Medway Megaliths Part 1: The enigma of the White Horse Stone

The White Horse Stone is shrouded in legend. It is located in the Neolithic funerary complex that we today call the Medway Megaliths, and was once possibly part of a chambered long barrow of which no other traces remain. Until recently it was one of a pair of megaliths that stood close to the Pilgrims Way in North Kent, the chalk ridge that comprises the northern limb of the Wealden anticline, but the Lower White Horse Stone was destroyed in the nineteenth century, leaving the upper White Horse Stone alone and isolated. To add insult to injury, now it can only be reached via a slip road behind a petrol station, cut off by the racing traffic of the A229 dual carriageway that links the M20 with the M2, part of the extensive motorway network that divides Kent. And just below it the Eurostar train emerges from a tunnel cut into the chalk as it speeds down towards Folkestone and the Channel Tunnel.

White Horse Stone, author’s photo

Isolated and lonely it might be, yet dating back to around 4000 BC, it is an important piece of our heritage, placed at the very beginning of the arrival of the farmers from Europe who brought with them the knowledge of agriculture.  These people were said to be semi-nomadic, yet near the stone was found the remains of an early Neolithic longhouse that was used 3780 – 3530 BC and was most likely a domestic residence. Another chambered long barrow was found nearby containing human remains and could have shed more light on these apparent contradictions, but sadly this has also been destroyed.

If the Neolithic ancestry of the stone has many unsolved elements, the legends become more complex when linked to a more recent invasion, this one involving the arrival of the Anglo-Saxon people, again from continental Europe. Around 409 AD, the last of the Romans withdrew from Britain, leaving a vacuum soon to be filled by tribes from Germany, including the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, some of whom had already begun to settle during Roman times. The takeover was gradual and not uniform throughout the country; it could have begun in Kent, certainly the legend describing the foundation event say it was.

White Horse Stone from side, author’s photo

There are different sources for the story, and each tell a slightly different version, but the gist is as follows. Vortigern, King of the Britons, needed assistance to fight the Scottish Picts who frequently launched raiding parties into his territory. He invited the Angles to come to his aid, and in due course (449 AD),  the brothers Horsa and Hengist arrived at Ebbsfleet to serve as mercenaries. They were said to have arrived under the banner of a ‘rampant white horse.’ [1] In return for their services, they were given supplies and land on the Isle of Thanet, and in time they sent back home for more aid, causing more Angles, Saxons and Jutes to arrive in large numbers. According to Nennius in the ‘History of the Britons,’  Vortigern had bitten off more than he could chew and tried to get rid of them, but to no avail. At any rate, Hengist’s daughter Rowena came over and Vortigern fell in love with her and asked for her hand in marriage. In return, Hengist asked for Kent, which Vortigern granted even though it wasn’t strictly his to give. This made Vortigern unpopular, and he was forced into hiding by his own people. His son Vortimer turned against Hengist and Horsa, engaging them in battle and driving them back, back dying himself in the process.[2]

The Wooing of Rowena, by A. S. Forrest – Our Island Story, Public Domain

Eventually, Hengist and Horsa, now reasonably established, sent Vortigern a message of peace, and invited him to a feast where the Saxons and Britons could meet. Here a great act of treachery took place, deepening the drama of the story. Hengist’s men concealed knives ‘beneath their feet’ and murdered the unsuspecting Britons in what is known as the Treachery of the Long Knives, though they did spare Vortigern. [3]

According to the Anglo-Saxon chronicles, in 455 AD, Vortigern faced the brothers at Aylesford in Kent, where a decisive battle was fought. [4]The Saxons were victorious though Horsa was killed. Hengist went on to found the kingdom of Kent with his son, marking the beginning of Saxon rule. Horsa, according to legend, was buried by the White Horse Stone, over which was draped his banner.

In old English, Hengist and Horsa mean ‘stallion’ and ‘horse’ respectively, and Bede in his version of the story charts their geneology back to Woden, the great Norse god.[5] Both the Norse and Anglo-Saxon languages are Indo-European in origin, and have inherited aspects of Indo-European mythology, cleaving it to fit their own time and place. Two of the central tenants of this proto-mythology were founding brothers, or divine twins, and they were often associated with the horse, the most sacred animal in Indo-European cosmology. There are many examples of divine twins who founded nations, including Romulus and Remus in Rome, Aggi and Ebbi of the Danes, and Ibur and Aion of the Lombards .[6] And in all of the legends, one of the founding twins must die, as does Horsa in this case.

Folkestone White Horse

There is no evidence of course that he was actually buried beneath White Horse Stone, but the association stills lingers on. His emblem was adopted by the Jutish kingdom of Kent, the first of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, and the rampant white horse is still today the emblem of Kent. In this way the story of Horsa, Hengist and Vortigern can be seen as an Anglo-Saxon foundation myth, similar to Romulus and Remus in the foundation of Rome. Not to be taken literally, but seen as a sacred and part of a greater cosmology. What Horsa and Hengist as German immigrants would have made of Brexit we do not know, but the constant presence of the Eurostar train beneath the stone is certainly a reminder of our deeply European connections, and one which they appear to stand guard over today.


[1] Richard Verstegan ‘Restitution of Decayed Antiquities.’

[2] Nennius,’Historia Britonum’

[3] Nennius, Historia Britonum

[4] The Anglo Saxon Chronicles

[5] Bede ‘Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation’

[6] ‘Hengist and Horsa,’ Wikipedia (accessed 30.5.2020)

Venus Retrograde in a time of Lockdown

The planet Venus, associated with love and beauty and all that governs relationships, reached her highest point in the night sky on March 24th and has been descending ever since, mirroring precisely the descent of the world into Coronavirus lockdown. On May 13th she will turn retrograde in the next stage of a complex series of motions during which she will set as an evening star, disappear from view, perform an interior conjunction with the Sun, then rise as the morning star before turning direct again just after Summer Solstice. For millennia human beings have tracked the movements of Venus and correlated them happenings on Earth, but the timing this year seem particular poignant as we contemplate love, loss and all that we value in a time of lockdown.

Inanna/Lilith, British Museum (author’s photo)

In Ancient Sumeria the planet Venus was worshipped as a personification of the goddess Inanna, queen of heaven and earth. The story Inanna’s Descent to the Underworld is the oldest epic poem in world literature (written down around 1700 BC), and, remarkably, it can be interpreted as an allegory of the visible movements of the planet. Thus when we weave together the story of Inanna’s descent with the planetary movements of Venus, linking both with events in our personal and collective lives, we renew afresh the sacred bond between heaven and Earth. And on a personal level, Inanna’s story is a poignant description of the maturing of the soul through relationship, with love, loss and reflection on all that we value, with a powerful message for us all.

In the ancient Sumerian version of the story of her descent, pieced painstakingly together from 13 fragments,  ‘Inanna, from the great above, set her mind toward the great below, abandoning both heaven and earth to descend to the netherworld.’ [1]Before beginning her mythic descent, she was careful to don all her accoutrements of power, and to instruct her messenger Ninshubur to get help if she does not return after three days. This preparation period and initial descent began on March 24th when the planet reached the highest point, and correlates to when lockdown began in ernest. We too had to seek out our power objects and prepare practically, psychologically and materially to go deep into the uncertainties created by pandemic.

On 28th April, Venus attained maximum brilliance, a breath-taking site in the night sky just after sunset and right next to the silver sliver of the crescent moon. Now entering the second stage of lockdown, we watched anxiously to see if the peak of the pandemic has really been reached, and to calibrate our own lives to the restrictions imposed.

Venus at maximum brilliance, 28th April (author’s photo)

Finally, after approximately seven weeks, Inanna, in full regalia, arrives at the gateway of the underworld. This corresponds to the time when the planet starts its retrograde motion, May 13th. For us, as we go into a potential easing of lockdown, we must be particularly vigilant and reflect on all we have lost and gained throughout this time, of the gifts and sacrifices we have received and endured. As Melanie Reinhart says, ‘We are ‘given the opportunity to plumb the depths of our relationships, finish unfinished business, release the past and renew our capacity for love.’ [2]The myth offers us very clear guidance on how can we can do this, for now Inanna must descend through each of the seven gates, and as she does so she is asked to surrender all the carefully collected symbols of her worldly power, just as we have been forced to surrender ours. The following could be used as a journey through the chakras, or as a contemplation of what the different power symbols mean to us, and how they relate to our own personal losses during the Coronavirus pandemic.

At the first gate, she must surrender her crown.

At the second, her rod of lapis lazuli was removed.

At the third, the lapis lazuli stones from around her neck.

At the fourth the sparkling stones of her breast,

The fifth the golden ring of her hand,

At the sixth the breastplate of her breast,

And finally at the seventh, she must surrender her robe.

For it is decreed that she must enter the Underworld naked.

Each time she asks the gatekeeper, ‘Why pray is this?’ And each time he replies, ‘Extraordinarily O Inanna, have the decrees of the netherworld been perfected, O Inanna do not question the rites of the nether world.’[3] This is a reminder that what is demanded of us now is nothing short of unconditional surrender to the situation we collectively found ourselves in, to remain willingly present in the liminal zone, perched somewhere between a world of fact and of illusion. We must enter this stripped bare, peeled away so that only our inner essence remains. This time period lasts 40 days, the length of the retrograde cycle, the proverbial time for mediation and reflection also incorporated into later traditions, including Lent.

Planet Venus (Wikepedia Commons)

On the May 28th Venus will set as the evening star one last time before disappearing from view. This is the time of the greatest danger for Inanna, who now naked and vulnerable, comes face to face with her sister, the dark goddess Erishkigal, seated on a throne next to the Annunaki, or the seven judges. As she stands before them, they pronounce judgement on her. This symbolises on a personal level the confrontation with our shadow, our inner self, that which we keep cloaked. What inner reserves have we discovered, what has emerged for us once the ego has been laid bare?

June 3rd is the interior conjunction between Venus and the Sun, the time period when the planet is behind the Sun and no longer visible. This is the time when Inanna, now turned to a corpse, is hung from a stake for three days and three nights. This is the time to bear witness to not only our own soul, but the World Soul, the most poignant moment of all. We are required to sit with ourselves and engage as little as possible with external relationships, to listen to the inner voice and the voice of the Earth herself. There is the potential for unresolved grief to surface, that which has not been processed, all that has been denied and suppressed.

However, there is hope on the horizon. Three days have passed and Inanna has not returned, so the faithful Ninshabur, as instructed, and goes out to sound the alarm. He turns first to the god Enlil, who refuses to help, then next to Nanna, who also does nothing. Finally he goes to Enki, the ruler of the abyss and the waters, who is so troubled on Inanna’s behalf that he fashions beings called kurgarru and kalatuttu from dirt and gives to them the food and water of life. They find the corpse of Inanna, and ‘sixty times the food of life, sixty times the water of life they sprinkle upon it, and Inanna rose.’ [4]

After three days and three nights of being hung on a stake, Inanna rises again (note, this myth predates Christianity by about 2,000 years!) This reminds us that during a liminal period, times of great change and flux, we should take special care to nourish both body and soul with good food and allow tears, the waters of life, to gently dissolve the grief and mend the wounds of the psyche, to console that which was previously not consoled.

Akkadian Inanna (Ishtar)

Thus brought back to life, Inanna prepares to leave the underworld. This is marked by the heliacal rising of Venus as the morning star on June 10th. But beware, the danger is not yet passed. In the original Sumerian tale, when Inanna returns she brings with her a whole army of demons, who cause havoc wherever they go. This fragment of the poem breaks before it ends, so we need to look at another text, the ‘Dream of Dummuzi’ to find out how we can safely exit the underworld without unleashing our demons.

In the Akkadian version, Inanna is only allowed to return when she has sent a substitute in her place, in keeping with the laws of the netherworld. She ponders who this could be, and when eventually she sees that her consort Dummuzi has been occupying her throne in her absence, oblivious to her suffering, she fixes her eye of death on him.

A great wail of mourning goes out, let by his sister (Geshtinanna) and this touches Inanna’s heart, who now feels the grief of her consort’s death – by her own hand. Now softened, she decrees that Dummuzi will spend half the year in the Underworld, going down when called, and alternating with his sister, who will go down for the other half. The natural order has been restored, breaking the cycle of destruction, ushering in forgiveness and seeds for new potential. This coincides with the time that Venus turns direct (also in Gemini) on the 25th June, just after the Summer Solstice.

This year, a solar eclipse occurs on the exact day of the Solstice (21st June), which is also on a dark moon. This extremely fiery and powerful combination seems set to melt even the most frozen of areas, especially as Jupiter makes another conjunction with Pluto around this time. At the lunar eclipse in January, the Saturn/Pluto conjunction ushered in the beginning of the Coronavirus lockdown in China. As Jupiter tentatively enters the dance again (Jupiter will come into full conjunction in December), this could be time of great upheaval, maybe as lockdown fatigue really takes hold. Only if we take the opportunities offered for reflection, for release and for taking personal responsibility will this be the breakthrough that we are hoping it could be. Working with the retrograde cycle could then really have collective as well as personal impact.

Pattern made by orbit of Venus

The orbit of Venus is highly regular with eight Venusian orbits round the sun corresponding to five of those of Earth’s. This means that every eight years, the retrograde cycle will repeat at the same place in the zodiac. So the last time Venus went retrograde in Gemini, the esoteric ruler of Venus, was in 2012, when a very rare transit of Venus across the sun was also seen. [5]If we look back to what we were doing exactly eight years ago, we gain a deep perspective on the nature of our soul journey, and of the potential for any unfinished business from that time that may need addressing. It seems significant that the much talked about prophecies around 2012 never seemed to materialise. But maybe something was set in motion then which is starting to come to fruition now?


[1] Inanna’s Descent to the Netherworld’ in ‘Sumerian Mythology’ by Samuel Noah Kramer, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1972

[2] Melanie Reinhart, ‘Venus: Queen of Heaven and Earth,’ (2009) at http://www.melaniereinhart.com

[3] ibid Samuel Noah Kramer

[4] As above

[5] See Melanie Reinhart at http://www.melaniereinhart.com

May Flower Moon: Etain, Willow and Crane

The May Flower full moon is the time when the Celtic goddess Etain brings beauty, grace and fertility into our lives. Known as the Shining One and as a White Lady of the Fae, Etain is a goddess of transformation and rebirth, associated with water, the sun, apple blossom and horses, to name but a few. She is also associated with butterflies, swans and other beings that symbolise the transmigration of the soul. Her story is complex and warrants a deeper analysis than is possible here, but her message of grace, rebirth, and maturation of the soul is deeply resonant for our times.

In ‘The Wooing of Etain,’ her story is told largely through the lens of a series of male protagonists, all of which seek to court her (indeed possess her) in some way. It revolves primarily around the character of Midhir, a king of the Tuatha de Danann, who lived among the sidhe. We are told that he loses an eye whilst visiting his foster son, Aengus Mac Og, and asks compensation for his loss which includes ‘the fairest maiden in Ireland.’ This is Etain, the daughter of king Ailill of Ulster and she is said to have ‘shimmering waves of fire-gold hair, skin as white as snow, and blushing cheeks red as foxgloves.’

Aengus duly goes to the king and asks for his daughter, as bidden by his step father. In return, he must perform a series of tasks which he successfully does, but before he is permitted to take her, he must also provide the maiden’s weight in gold and silver. Finally, she is brought to Midhir, and stays together with him at the home of Aengus for another year. When the pair eventually return to his castle, his first wife, the queen, becomes jealous and ‘strikes Etain with a rod of scarlet rowan, turning her into a pool of water.’ In time the water congeals and forms a hard chrysalis, or a worm, out of which a beautiful purple fly, or butterfly, emerges. [1]

Midhir takes the butterfly and cherishes it, but the queen now conjures a strong wind that blows the butterfly around for seven years without rest until she finally alights on the breast of Aegnus, who feeds her pollen and nectar for nourishment. Alas, the queen intervenes again and sends such a wind that the butterfly is now tossed around for 1000 years in misery, without respite, until finally, she lands in the goblet of another queen of Ulster. This queen swallows her down with her wine, then gives birth nine months later to a beautiful daughter who she calls Etain.

Her beauty once more becomes legendary in this new life, she is coveted by the High King in Ireland, and they duly marry at Tara. Over the course of time, however, his brother also falls in love with her and starts pining, much to the concern of the king, who asks Etain to do everything in her power to heal him. At this point, her former lover and husband Midhir, in a desperate bid to get her back, uses spells and enchantment to get her to sleep with him instead. In an echo of their former existence, he carries out a series of task designed to make her current husband let go of her, demanding a kiss from Etain as his prize. In this way he ‘reminds’ her of the love they once had for each other and reunited in ‘the dining hall,’ he takes her into his arms and they change into swans, linked together by a golden chain, and fly off into the distance. [2]

The story of Etain functions on many levels. On one hand it is the story of the soul, of hope and maturity in adversity, of love, jealousy, possession and the belief that through all the trials of life, our inner essence remains pure and unsoiled, shining like Etain. There are also specific number references throughout the story, showing clear calendrical or symbolic connections, maybe even links to astronomical cycles. The time frames and frequent use of shapeshifting into different animal forms is a powerful way to depict the cycling of the soul through space and time, and the experiences it gathers along the way. The butterfly is a potent and beautiful symbol of rebirth, and the swan a psychopomp, or accompanier of souls into the afterlife.

Though swans are named in this story, another bird is also linked to the flight of the soul in Celtic mythology. The crane, or heron, is one of the four sacred birds in both Irish and British tradition, and in one version of this tale it is said that three cranes guard the entrance of Midhir’s castle.  Cranes were linked to the Cailleach, to longevity and wisdom, and a crane bag was a key part of the druid or medicine woman’s equipment. They were also famous for their dances, which they performed in circles. This has led to their association with birth, in the form of storks, and then death, when they perform the function of psychopomp as the swan does in this story. [3] Both are large migratory birds, that mysteriously appear and disappear with the seasons and seem to take pre-destined flight paths across the heavens.

The crane is also linked to the flight of the soul not just in death, but also in the quest for otherworldly knowledge. The story of Etain has this aspect to it in that the soul experiences and gains wisdom and deep knowledge through not just love and loss, but through the wisdom of nature in the form of water, worms, butterflies, even wind. Cranes are also sometimes associated with the willow tree, the tree that along with the hawthorn, governs this time of year.

Like Etain the willow is beautiful and full of grace. They are also one of the oldest trees in Europe, embodying deep wisdom, and they are frequently found close to rivers and streams due to their love of water. Etain was changed into a pool of water, symbolising a deeply transformative potential, the ocean of possibility, or waters of rebirth. In Celtic mythology journeys are often taken by boat to the Otherworld in search of inspiration and wisdom, crossing over water as part of the process. The willow stands guard to this entrance, showing us that when we are in the flow of grace we can attain both of these prizes. [4]

Perhaps most of all, Etain’s story reminds us of the deeply healing and transformational power of beauty, in herself but also in the Nature around her. She loves to make people around her happy through kind words and smiles, and with her music she breaks through sadness and dissolves it gently into tears. Flowers bloom when she is near, and mankind falls in love with her. In all the trails and tribulations of the souls journeying, she reminds us of the beauty and nourishing power of Earth’s abundance through water, butterflies, swans and cranes. Each of them wondrous in themselves to be sure, and also holding up the mirror to us so that we can see the beauty of our own soul in them.


[1] Sharon Blackie, ‘The Wooing of Etain.’

[2] www.orderwhitemoon.org, ‘Etain the Sining One’

[3] The Druid Animal Oracle, Philip and Stephanie Carr-Gomm

[4] The Green Man Tree Oracle, John Matthews and Will Worthington

Forests: lungs, love and life

This was set to be a big year for the Planet, with several international meetings planned to discuss some of the most pressing issues of our time: world poverty and refugees, the state of our oceans, deforestation and catastrophic biodiversity loss. But with the world in the grip of the coronavirus pandemic, all of that has been shoved into the background considered as ‘insignificant’ compared to the crisis that we didn’t see coming. But the fact of the matter is that we have only limited time to take the health of the planet seriously – and hopefully the pause of lockdown might give us the breathing space to do just that.

As the pandemic panic starts to die down, if we have managed to keep our own lungs safe, we can now no longer keep out another sense of growing grief. That connected to the lungs of the planet, and all that we are losing each day as our most precious of resources burns. Our forests take in the carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and magically transforming it into oxygen with a little help from the Sun. They are home to over half the world’s animal and plant species and around one billion people worldwide making them the most biodiverse and important ecosystems on the Planet. But according to the WWF’s  ‘Below the Canopy’ report (2019), they have lost more than half their wildlife over the past fifty years and more than the same proportion of land.[1]

To be specific, the Amazon rainforest, the largest and most well-known in the world, is in deep trouble. Between August 2018 – 19, nearly one million hectares of land were deliberately set on fire, destroying irreplaceable trees, plants and countless numbers of animals. And worse, this figure is increasing in spite of growing awareness, more efforts on the part of environmental companies, and most importantly of all, despite a pledge by the Worldwide Consumer Goods Forum to achieve net zero-deforestation in the supply chain by 2020. Last year, Greenpeace surveyed 23 of the UK’s leading food brands and fast food chains and not one could guarantee the soy they used was it linked to deforestation.[2]

In Brazil again, another lesser known but equally important ecosystem, the Cerrado savanna, has lost half of its natural vegetation, destroyed to produce soy exported worldwide primarily to feed factory farmed livestock. In West Africa, rainforests are cleared to produce cocoa to satiate the world’s chocolate habit, and in South East Asia, large scale forest clearance in Malaysia and Indonesia is driven by demand for palm oil, used in up to 50 % of the packaged products produced in our supermarkets. In Borneo, the Indonesian government backed the protection of the rainforest and made deforestation a crime, which, together with a global fall in palm oil, put the brakes on wide scale destruction, but deforestation still continues in some areas, pushing the orangutan to the top of the list of the world’s most endangered species. Our food choices, illegal wildlife trade, and unsustainable hunting, are literally driving the forests, and the entire Planet, climate and all, to tipping point.[3]

We know this and desperately want to take action to stop this catastrophic situation, but we feel overwhelmed in the face of its enormity. Deep down we know that this is a problem that can’t be solved from our current dominant worldview. According the WWF, we have more than enough farmland to feed the worlds population of only it was managed in a more sustainable way, if only farmers had a stronger incentive to do this. Clearly the more emphasis there is on social justice for those farming the land, the better the land will be managed, which benefits the whole ecosystem, especially the animals that are currently factory farmed to give us food.

We are aware of the devastating pictures of industrial sized cattle farms over the Amazon where millions of cattle are kept in appealing conditions to satisfy the world’s beef hunger. But it’s not just the land that has been cleared for intensive beef farming that is the problem. Poultry consumption is also a huge contributor, not because of the birds themselves, but because of the production of the soy used to feed them. Up to 95% of chickens in the UK are intensively reared to meet a huge growing demand for their meat, and this soy largely comes from South America.[4]

Now as we scramble to get food from our supermarkets, standing in queues (2 metres apart) reading the contents of food labels is low on people’s list of priorities. Yet we need to do so now more than ever. According to the WWF, UK consumers each more than 3 million tonnes of soy farmed in cleared rainforests, most of which has been used to feed the animals and animal products we eat. And this soy is largely hidden because our food supply chain currently does not distinguish between sustainably produced soy and that which drives deforestation, and therefore farmers at source have little incentive to take the more costly steps involved in sustainable production. So our individual food choices have a direct impact on the health of the planet.

Indigenous people who try and protect the forests are also in danger. In 2019, eleven Brazilian indigenous leaders sought the help of European governments to stop forest lands being seized for agriculture and to end attacks against indigenous communities. While they were touring, indigenous forest guardian Paulo Paulino was shot dead by loggers in Brazil. In the words of Nara Bare, ‘what happened to Paulino is a clear example of what we have been through: our blood is being shed for soya beans and wood that comes to Europe. It’s time to say enough!’[5]

Even in the throes of this tragedy however, there are some positive moves afoot. In Brazil, more and more people are calling on NGOs to ensure that meat and soy from the Cerrado is sustainable, and 140 companies worldwide have supported the initiative to stop the forest loss associated with agricultural production. The more we actively consider not only what we eat but where it comes from and how it was produced, the harder it is for the real cost of the impact of food on the Planet to remain hidden. In the UK, there is also a campaign to demand that the UK government commits to a deadline for ending the sale of all goods that have caused deforestation (wwf.org.uk/deforestation-free).

This isn’t just about ‘climate change’ and greenhouse gas emissions, it goes way beyond that. Ultimately it’s about recognising once and for all that we live on a sentient, intelligent and conscious planet where all life matters, no matter how great or small. Once we see things in those terms we can no longer countenance the destruction of irreplaceable ecosystems, let alone eat the food so forcefully extracted and reared in conditions conducive to virus growth and spread. And even better, rather than leaving us feeling overwhelmed in the face of such huge change, this approach can empower us. For in the words of Charles Eisenstein (2019), in an interconnected view of the world, if it follows that service to any life is service to all life, then any act of care, ecological or social healing is part of the bigger whole of caring for the Earth. [6]And as a living, sentient being, Earth will reply to our letters of love.


[1] http://www.worldwildlife.org/publications/below-the-canopy

[2] Greenpeace Connect Magazine, Autumn/Winter 2019

[3] World Wildlife Fund, Action Spring 2020 ‘Forests in Crisis’

[4] Greenpeace, Connect Magazine Spring 2020 ‘Forest Destruction: the Meaty Issue’

[5] Greenpeace, Connect Magazine Spring 2020 ‘Forest Destruction: the Meaty Issue’

[6] www.charleseisenstein.org ‘The Amazon: how do we heal a burning heart?’

April Hare Moon: Eostre, Andraste and Hare

The month of April is the time of the full Hare Moon, or Planters Moon, when the sowing of the crops takes place and early blossoms and shy wildflowers unfurl with the rapidly awakening Earth. The name April could be linked to that of Aphrodite the Greek goddess of love, but to the Anglo Saxons this was the month of Eostre, goddess of spring and fertility. Her name has survived in both the Christian festival of Easter and the hormone oestrogen, responsible for orchestrating the female reproductive cycle and therefore birth. She was also linked to the growing light and budding of Spring, like Eos the Indo-European goddess of the dawn.

In the British countryside it was once the call of the lapwing (plover) that heralded the birth of spring, along with that of the cuckoo, and her eggs were particularly highly sought after. Unusually for a bird, the lapwing lays her eggs in the ground, and it was customary to find them and gift them at Easter, probably the origins of the Easter egg hunt. Unfortunately during Victorian times the hunt took on epic proportions and so many eggs were harvested that the lapwing was brought to near extinction and they are sadly rarely seen today.[1]

The lapwings shares the same territory as hares, leading to a remarkable misunderstanding. Hares live solely above ground and make indentations in the Earth in which to sit and sleep. When abandoned, the lapwing would come along and lay her eggs in these same idents, which then led to the notion that it was the hares who had laid them. This all added to the mystery of these nocturnal creatures: not only were they deemed to lay eggs, but it was also believed they changed sex every year, as well as participating in frenzied boxing matches most often seen in March. Their appearance at spring, their breeding and egg laying habits and the fact they sat in rings, led to an association with rebirth, resurrection and new life.

Hare bones were often found in ritual pits, showing their sacredness in ancient times, and there were taboos around eating their flesh. Later when the Romans took over the land, hare coursing (hunting) became a favoured past time, again drastically reducing the numbers of the original indigenous species, the Arctic hare. Under Christian domination, the rabbit took their place as prime fertility symbol, and Easter would not be complete today without the ‘Easter bunny’ and the distribution of chocolate eggs in place of the older land-based customs.

The hare was also sacred to another more shadowy goddess in Anglo-Celtic Britain, Andraste, goddess of love, fertility – and battle. Andraste was the patron goddess of the Iceni tribe, a pre-Roman Brittonic people who inhabited parts of Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire. Boudicca was their queen, and famously fought the Romans, with some success, before being brutally subdued along with her tribe. On the eve of battle, Boudicca was said to evoke the goddess Andraste and a hare was used in divination. According to the classical write Dion, Boudicca would address her people then let a hare escape from the fold her dress. [2]The success of the battle could be foretold according to the direction in which the hare chose to run. It could have been the left side that was unlucky (the origins of the word ‘sinister’ from ‘sinistre,’ left) but there is no record attesting to this. It is also said that the Iceni took no captives in battle, but those that were defeated were dispatched to Andraste, showing that she accepted sacrifice of human blood. [3]

In more peaceful times, she was worshipped in the sacred groves as a woodland/lunar goddess, presiding over the life death cycle of nature, as is the natural order of things. This notion of life, death and rebirth is still enshrined in the festival of Easter to an extent, though it has now been separated from the cycle of nature and projected onto the figure of Jesus.


[1] See ‘The Lapwing – unsung hero of Easter and farmland icon’ by Rebecca Hoskins,  www.permaculture.co.uk (Accessed 5.5.2020)

[2] ‘The Druid Animal Oracle’ by Philip and Stephanie Carr-Gomm

[3] www.thewhitegoddess.co.uk (Accessed 7.4.2020)

Coronavirus: The World is Listening Now

Over the past few months we’ve had raging fires, howling storms, floods, famine, war and the most dire of climate predictions, yet we have carried on with business as usual, allowing nothing to get in the way of a sense of entitlement that tells us it’s fine to lead our lives exactly as we please, taking no responsibility for our choices, even denying there could even be one. We’ve also had other viruses this decade, other pandemics, other respiratory related SARS viruses, of which Covid-19 is actually the seventh and not the deadliest, in most cases causing either no symptoms or just a runny nose. Yet nobody can deny that it is the coronavirus that has ground the world to a standstill, literally brought us to our knees. The medical profession and governments warn this could just be the beginning, others say that it will disappear as quickly as it came. Either way this tiny spiky ball, this microscopic virus has our full attention now, so what is it that we need to hear? Is there an opportunity for growth amidst all the chaos, fear, panic and death?

The answer is a resounding yes, and many people have already begun thinking about this and expressing their views online. As we stay at home, ecosystems driven to the brink by us start to come into balance again, the air that we are now so fearful of breathing becomes instantly cleaner. People are starting to reflect on what really is important, on all that they have taken for granted before confinement. We have started to communicate in new ways, exercise in online communities, take up new creative hobbies that we previously had no time for. We are starting to think not only about the vulnerability of own health, but also about the fragility of the ecosystems of the Earth. Finally, we are realising how interconnected we all are. How literally someone coughing in China has the ability to infect the whole world, with disease, but with other things too, including hope.

And then we start to ask, what is the Earth trying to tell us? What have we not heard because we were too busy to listen? As we fear for our own lungs, we remember that the lungs of the Earth, one of the most precious and priceless resources we have, is being cut down by the rate of one football pitch every minute. That during 2019 – 2020, more deforestation took place in the Amazon than ever before, despite pledges a decade before to stop mindless tree burning by 2020. As we fear our own lungs might be drowned in water, we feel how the lungs of the planet are going up in fire.

If we take responsibility for our part in the cause of this virus, which is the only way forward given that everything is interconnected, we can start to unpick the behaviours that got us to this place in the first place. And we can do this by trying to understand the symbolic message of the coronavirus, the crown virus, a messenger arising from the mycelium of the Otherworld, the voice of the Earth itself.

Firstly, there is our relationship to other life forms. The outbreak started, as did SARS and MERS the other respiratory viruses of this century in so-called wet markets in China where live and dead animals are slaughtered, eaten, bought and sold with no regard to animal welfare or basic hygiene. After the SARS outbreak in 2002-3, instead of closing down the markets and instigating measures to stop cruelty to animals, thousands of pangolin were mindlessly ‘culled’ for their role in the virus transmission, as though they alone were the cause of the outbreak. This disregard for animal welfare is symptomatic of our Grand Disconnect, our lack of connection to the interconnected web of which we are an integral part.

Covid-19 literally went viral because it jumped the species barrier from bats (now there’s a transformation symbol if ever there was one) to humans and emerged fully equipped with all the right mechanisms to lock onto the epithelial cells in the lungs and rapidly multiply. Only Mother Nature is capable of such precision and execution, this is far beyond the capacity of mere Man, and as the virus has an endless capacity to mutate, it will not help us if we go down the simple root of ‘getting a vaccine to destroy it so we can go about business as usual.’ But everything has changed, there is no getting back to normal, so we need to develop a more holistic way of dealing with this virus. There are many ways to do this, but homeopathy can offer us a potent tool.

According to Samuel Hahnemann who formulate the principles of homeopathy during the early nineteenth century, a miasm is regarded as a sort of blueprint of dis-ease, an underlying matrix from which all symptoms, no matter how unrelated, emerge. Allopathic medicine traditionally aims to treat the symptoms not the cause of dis-ease, whereas an enlarged view of miasm is to view them, when they present, as an opportunity for growth (incidentally not shared by Hahnemann himself who sought somewhat allopathically to eradicate the miasm, considering it to be a malevolent force). Given that any form of disease is the best attempt of that organism to heal itself, rather than seeking to just eradicate it, we could also ask what is it trying to communicate to us about our lifestyles, the choices we make, the habits we have formed and our emotional behaviour. Using this approach, we see patterns and meaning, we start to listen to the voice of the Earth itself, to become empowered and work with dis-ease rather than simply fight against it and hope it goes away in a fingers-crossed-bury-our-heads-in-the-sand-sort-of approach.

There are only a handful of miasms in homeopathy, three described by Hahnemann and another three of four since his death. All miasms are present within us, waiting to be activated in response to particular circumstances, but to Hahnemann, the primary miasm, responsible for around 80% of all disease, is Psora, linked to our most basic needs, how we survive on Planet Earth. When all is said and done, food, water, our environment and how we transition and adapt are the most fundamental aspects of our lives. This pandemic is clearly pushing us back into our most primal of fears, throwing us all back into survival mode, causing us to rush to supermarkets and stockpile goods (toilet paper hoarding is very indicative of Psora!) Our fear of death has been awakened, our cellular memories carry the imprint of The Black Death and the Blue Death, amongst others, and we feel helpless, despondent and disconnected from source. Our challenge is to overcome these deeply ingrained traumas and reconnect to the life force at the heart of everything.

The other two primary miasms are Syphilis and Sycosis, one concerned with the survival of our species as a whole and therefore  preoccupied with sexual reproduction, the other with the necessary chthonic forces of decay and breakdown that allow life to flourish through death and die back. We are witnessing the interplay of the two on a global scale and individually we can try to maintain our own health by achieving balance between the forces of fire (Syphilis) and water (Sycosis). Global warming is also a good example of these two primary forces at play[1]: as our human population expands, heating results from the burning of fossil fuels, which pushes carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. This in turn traps more heat due to the greenhouse effect, resulting in more overheating, melting the water held in ice that protects us from overheating due to its albedo effect. So more heating occurs, and so on. Our challenge here is to turn our passion (fire) to compassion (water), and keep fluids moving in a healthy way to counteract the excess of fire energy. In Covid-19 it is the filling of the lungs with fluid that is the cause of death.

Most importantly of all, there is Tuberculinum, the miasm that has been called the Divine Wake up Call [2]. This is one of the few miasms whose challenges are specific to humanity (though it should still be noted that we contracted TB in the first instance from cattle) and could be the main miasm of this extraordinary time. In essence, it allows us the possibility to break free of all that is purely material and instinctive, to soar and become the highest and grandest versions of ourselves. But as it originated in cattle that were displaced from their home environment with the spread of agriculture[3], in its shadow aspect it, it is linked with displacement and with being forcibly trapped and imprisoned. Refugees and prisoners therefore have always been particularly susceptible to this disease as over-crowding aids the spread of airborn viruses. As we find our own freedoms severely restricted, we are thrown back into the memory of imprisonment and loss of home, another deep-rooted trauma in us all. Our challenge is to use the restrictions on movement to communicate and act in more creative ways, and of course to remember now more than ever the terrible plight of refugees, and those from Syria in particular. Solving this problem is surely still one of the greatest challenges of our times.

Like Coronavirus, the Tuberculinum miasm affects the airways. Aspiration means both to draw a substance in through the nasal passage and the desire to improve oneself, to dream big. It is quite literally life energy carried through the breath that leads to inspiration.[4] This is the call to reignite our connection to the entire cosmos, and most of all to the Earth. It is about integrating the creative, the spiritual and the mundane, seeing the sacredness in everything and in every action. This is what Coronavirus, the crown virus, could be offering us. We all have a choice on how we move forward, but collectively we must move forward in a new and different way. The survival of our species could depend on it.


[1] ‘The Homeopathic Miasms: A Modern View,’ by Ian Watson, 2009

[2] Ibid

[3] Diana Eder, personal conversation 28.3.20

[4] Ibid Ian Watson