Medicinalmeadows

THE PLACE WITHIN


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The Quest Beetham Church of St. Michael and All Angels

Part 2- Story of the Knight’s journey up the coastline of Cumbria

The ceremony lacked the expected level of union for his liking. Godfrei felt depleted in the effort to give their companion and teacher due solemnity and observed rites of parity. He could sense the weight of disappointment.

The Chapel now felt empty. It might have been fatigue, or the grief that hit them so unexpectedly. They wouldn’t have been surprised if their elder had passed away in his sleep in Spain, but he had regained his strength and resolve before their last voyage, determined to lead them to deliver their charge.

The brother of this chapel stepped forward, they could not linger here. The all-night rituals had been conducted at the expense of rest and nourishment. It was now time to depart. The brethren spent the entire night coordinating their plans with the changing tides. The brothers, overwhelmed and jaded, agreed to trust their long-held friendship with the villagers. Other boats awaited to take them a short journey up the coast then inland, so they pressed on to Beetham.

The Lord of the Mosses received notification yesterday and subsequently prepared the new resting place under his protection. Although the Church was cold and damp, the setting sun streamed through the high windows. Provisions, including food, wine, and bedding, were offered and a safe place to pray before they rested.

The lay sisters convened to perform the Liturgy of the Hours, as they prayed and rested. They remained cognizant of the villagers’ efforts of heightened security surrounded by daily activities. The reasons for these measures begged further inquiry, but the hymns soothed their tiredness to sleep.

When Godfrei awoke from his bedding mat on the ground he felt inspired by his brothers’ actions. He saw two of them praying in the Lady chapel and decided to join them. He seemed to drift easily into the liminal space of Sanctuary. The singing of the sisters, the soft light of the candles, the sweet smell of the cooked loaf and the warmth of his new clothes lulled him inwards.

Word finally came in the evening light. A soft rap on the wooden door, then voices, stirred him from the cushion on the chapel floor. Had he drifted back into sleep? No, he had gained his direction from his curled position, but it was not sleep. He had finally been able to rest, eat, and gain enough strength to enter the realm of guidance.

He got up and approached the doorway, dubiously not from fear but the strangeness of the light. He knew before he entered in the conversation, passage north was possible. But the conversation brought more difficulties to the journey ahead. Dacre’s man had brought word.  Safety for their vessels was always paramount and raiders where in the waters around the coastline. The route was now over land.  They were so close to the Abbey, but this meant the Abbey was also at risk.

The delay now appeared intentional.  The death of their Elder, the overnight Rituals, the stay at the church were all keeping them hidden from the coastal route. All these delays were divinely guided.

This was the very quest undertaken by their predecessors, and now it was their turn.

St. Michael and All Angels Beetham Church

The church is on the south border of Cumbria into Lancashire just off the A6 at Milnthorpe. The tower is an old Anglo-Saxon structure, with extended church aisles dating from the 12th century and full restorations in the 18oos. There are many interesting features to the exterior including a sundial to the right of the priest’s doorway.

The church was first dedicated to Saint Lioba, the 7th century Benedictine nun from Wessex. The daughter of a noble family and related to St. Boniface. She was educated at Wimborne Minster, probably skilled in the fine ornamenting of scriptures and needlework that created the embroidery of wall hangings of Europe’s great houses. She is well known in Germany as an Abbess in the convents of St. Boniface. She was known to frequent the royal courts of Charlemagne and to have performed miracles. Miracles that the Monk Rudolf of Fulda claimed continued to work from her grave tomb.(Wikipedia). I found the anchoress’s cell up the road from the church the most honourable dedication to one of England’s saints the most precious sight in our times. The stain glass windows within the church depict Lioba with Wessex royal Saints Ethelburga. She was the 7th century daughter of King Æthelberht of Kent and Queen Bertha. In 625, she married Edwin of Northumbria as his second wife. A condition of their marriage was Edwin’s conversion to Christianity. Here she is pictured also with Saint Osyth. She was born in Quarrendon in Buckinghamshire. Her father was Frithwald a Mercian sub-king of Surrey and her mother was Wilburga, daughter of King Penda of Mercia.

The stain glass windows to early Christian saints are delightful in the church. They are full of vibrant colour and contain the apostles including Mary Magdalene.

There are fragments of medieval glass in the Lady Chapel. These depict King Henry IV, fragments of Christ the King, coats of arms thought of the Stanley family, who were given lands of Westmorland, including Beetham, after the Battle of Bosworth.

(thanks to the websites of Beetham Church and Wikipedia)


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Earth at my feet, Sky in my mind….

I am She of sound

On this dust and bone of Earth

As the sound plays from nature

The world goes quiet and song plays on

As the world goes quiet

And the song plays on

When you listen …..

When you go beyond the tongue

When you look inward and

See the sound…. does play on

When you look deep into Heart

You hear it…….

Feel the dust and bone at your feet Dear One

Feel under your soles

The Sky above

Let the Earth respond

At your Heart, at your mind

Let the Mind go beyond

Let the Mind go quiet

 And you’ll feel where you belong

With the Earth at your feet

And the Sky at your mind

Let the Earth engulf you

So you know you belong

Within Her now

Let the song play on

Singing the song to you

And see you belong

With the Earth at your feet

The Sky in your mind

And the song in your Heart

Let Yourself be held,

You are right where you belong


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Heart Resonance

Hear within my heart the whispers of becoming

Sweet Beloved guide the path upon that which you know for me is true

May the rains fall in the dark hours to fill up the rivers

So I can then follow you at the banks of the living waters

When the Light returns once more

Allow me to witness

The seasons of the leaf

That seems to die only to begin upon the richness of the path

That lays beneath my naked feet

Every tread upon your ground then leads me on

With ancient whispering asking me to flow along

Let me see Light as the dawn of opportunities

Like the flowers that open their heart’s fully in your coming strength

Let me feel the inner blossoming of your warmth upon my chest

And when the day is done

May I feel tenderness with the remembrance

Of your embrace

As the river runs, I will be

Gently embedded into my heart once more

As rest comes within your flowing breath


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Burning Times

When you burned, I burned with you

When you buried, I burned for you

In passion in flame in Holy name

I am Forest Father

The nature’s Pater

I burned for you

From ground to up above

Our essence of vapour and resin through the sky

To all sea, bird, creature and pebble nearby

As you changed to spirit on air

With wind and rain

I held our our branches to hold you again

On the arm of Grandfather Oak

Passed down to Mother Doe

To pine to ground

Gathered your spirit around

By branch and heather

In ash and soil in Gods own power to mycelium medicine

Within those resting hours

We hold you in woodland, nature’s roots

We carried you there to earth’s repair

We carried you over through the mighty air

Now sheltered with a canopy

Embedded to sacred ground

To oak, ash, yew and birch

Of Kin and Kith

Dwelling in arms of bark, heart of trunk

Of deer foot and bird above

Held by ivy

Entwined

With earth beneath you

Water to greet you

Wind to change you

Light to recreate you

Ancestors of root of seed and bud

Growing earthly

Living on

Forest of my blood, evergreen

Forest of Fatherhood


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The Pain of Anxiety

Anxiety has lived with me for many years. I have read a mountain of books on the subject from psychology, self help to spirituality and akashic records. As well as a Master’s degree in CBT I started but didn’t finish.

The emotions of anxiety include emotional pain. The pain of being stuck in a holding of “I can’t”. ” I can’t tell them how I feel, I can’t express myself enough, I can’t put myself up for that speech and so I can’t do that job”. These were not feelings brought about by others they were limitations of myself. I felt held and stuck and in pain. The moment I felt a change was when I took a small step. “I can’t  do the speech in front of so many people, but what if I took one small step towards speaking up. I can’t be heard in the team but what can I do to establish my boundaries”. Small steps to the land of becoming created a small success in belonging. In my own way I  experimented with challenge (with some anxiety) and saw success of achieving movement out from within the pain.

The phrase you can’t eat an elephant in one go was my mantra. What smaller steps can I make? In the words of Sandra Ingerman, “taking small steps to climb a mountain will get you there just as surely as taking giant leaps. And the steps will also allow you to climb the mountain consciously as well as in your comfort range, keeping you in a state of balance and harmony” (Soul Retrieval 2011).

For me, the smaller steps were still challenging but manageable, they also required  marking, like a reward to celebrate a new threshold reached. Celebrating myself for making the steps, however small where all part of the bigger journey. Marking these achievements was key as well as repetition. The advantage I see is that repeating the small steps creates a new perspective, a new development, a new wider comfort zone. And so the repetition becomes a habit and a routine from a new challenging moment some time ago. It gives me time to focus, refocus and repeat and do-over and so the competency develops into a competent confident skill. Small steps can be seen as wise steps where a repeating pattern creates comfort as well as individuality in the endeavour just like water wearing its way over rock to carve isn’t own way forwards. It may be a slow process but it becomes a less messy one. Nature shows us over and over that repetition creates growth. Think of that old oak tree every year discarding its leaves and reaching higher with new branches.

Rushing towards goals still has me sliding into the pain of anxiety. Knowing myself, within a relationship to myself, is also about knowing how I relate to my natural way of being in this life. It has also cultivated a compassionate approach to others and how anxiety feels when it is outside in the cold causing stagnancy and misunderstandings in all areas of life and relationships. Bringing anxiety into the inner circle of a compassionate relationship has become a way of reconnecting and understanding pain. Pain is not just a physical symptom, it is also emotional.


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She of a thousand stars

I am She of a thousand stars above

and smooth wind upon the brow

I am She who adores you with kisses upon that brow

I am She who rushes like the waves to meet your feet

upon the shores of your dearest tidings

I am within the night of the dream weaver

and in the days of sadness upon your tear soaked cheeks

I am in your thoughts as you tend to your loving cares

I am in your remembrance of friendships that feel joy to you

I am that bridge of the Heart from you to another

I am within and outside of your Heart

I am the connection from your eyes, your thoughts, your touch of hand

and hand on Heart

I go with you into the darkest places you may be sent

I walk by your hand brushing upon mine

Just grasp my soft fingers when you are needing steadying

I will carry you wholly across that threshold

into the door of it surrounded by my Love for you

I am She of a thousand stars

I am here for You


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Dirt, Decay and the Dream

When dirt and decay become a master piece of my hands

when the ending of a cycle is just a resting into the not yet started

like the night is not yet a dawn

and the dream has finished and the waking state is not begun

the in between, the vision and the arising……

when dirt is just dirt and the seeds are not yet sprung

when dirt is the life within my hands

and the dream in one


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The Serendipity of the Soul…

Inner Landscape of the Multi-dimensional Soul…..

The inner landscape is healing with an integration of sorts. It comes in the form of a wound, an old wound that re-opens. Some say it is where the light comes in, it feels more like the reveal of the source of the wound. The serendipity.

This healing and I use the term loosely, is like a flash of realisation. It is a secret exposed with some shock and flatly deposited in the lap so it can not be missed. It is a “postcard” from the soul delivering what we had previously separated from ourselves and now it is the messenger for the integration to occur. Hold it, yes pick it up, look at it with a new perspective. Give it all the medicine you can. It was always a part of you, not apart from you. The integration is the acceptance of not who you are today but how magical you have become.

In turning the wheel of change within, exposing you beyond your boundaries you come back to yourself and hold tightly that which is transformative. As you are your Grandmother spirit in time. This is your spin around the wheel to integrate the realms of all you are. You are a soul on a mission to integrate.

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