Tag Archives: Faerie Gathering

A Samhain Tale from the Faerie Castle

scribed after the Samhain 2023 gathering by NoName:

In Featherstone Castle, when winter’s near,

Samhain celebration, faeries gather here.

Mermaid drums, ancestors appear,

Dancing ’round the fire, their presence so dear.

NoName too, with his drumming might,

In the gunroom naked, save a coat of white.

His rhythms echo through the starry night,

A peculiar sprite, oh, what a sight!

Greenheart, the wizard, dances with grace,

Ancient tattoos adorn their face.

Like flames in the wind or sun’s embrace,

Their every move, a spell in place.

Zebedee by the fire, so stoic and tall,

If he leaves the hearth, the castle may fall.

His duty heavy, yet he answers the call,

Guarding the flame, warming us all.

Soul sings, her voice like a dove,

Healing the mind, body, with love.

Her songs, a soothing balm from above,

Restoring harmony, fitting like a glove.

Eden’s aura fills the room,

Under their influence, love does bloom.

Naked bodies in embrace, dispelling gloom,

In front of the fire, passion does consume.

Acorn leaps with youthful zest,

The strength of a thousand faeries in his chest.

From castle’s top to its humble nest,

His art is known as the very best.

Mackerel Sky, keeper of plant lore,

Their wisdom, all faeries adore.

From castle gardens to forest floor,

Their green thumb touch is hard to ignore.

Then there’s Magpie, flying high,

A jewel collector in the sky.

Her graceful flight, a lullaby,

Reminding us of beauty nearby.

In Chachi‘s pot, a magic brew,

Sacramental drops, a hallucinogenic stew.

Faeries sip, their minds anew,

Experiencing realms they never knew.

Astro arrives, sequins in hand,

Adorning each faerie, oh so grand!

Under the moonlight, they make their stand,

A dazzling sight, just as planned.

In Featherstone Castle, under the moon’s beam,

Faeries celebrate, as if in a dream.

Their tale of Samhain, a recurring theme,

A night of magic, to the extreme.

A moment in the gunroom:

Once upon a frosty winter’s eve, in the realm of the radical faeries, a grand castle stood resolute amidst the mountains and rolling hills. Featherstone Castle was no ordinary fortress but a gathering place for faeries far and wide, who came together to celebrate the mystical Samhain festival.

Nestled amid ancient trees and an icy river, Featherstone Castle braced itself for the annual Samhain celebration. A gathering of faeries from far and wide, it was a time of revelry, of music and dance, of love and healing.

Mermaid, known far and wide as the greatest drummer of all lands, possessed a magical talent. When they played, the ancestors were summoned, their spectral forms swaying before the fire, entranced by the enchanting melody, of unparalleled musical prowess. When Mermaid played the drums, it was as though the heavens themselves had ordained the melody. Each beat seemed to summon the ancestors, their spectral forms pirouetting in a mesmerising dance before the blazing hearth. Mermaid’s drumming was a sacred rite, a symphony that connected the worlds of the living and the departed.

Among the many faeries, there lived a peculiar sprite named NoName. An oddball, he was renowned for his love of drumming in time and out and his penchant for baring his skin to the chill, save for a long, plush fur coat that swathed him from neck to ankle. The gun room was his chosen haunt, where he’d pound on his drums until the wee hours of the dawn, the rhythmic beats reverberating throughout the castle’s stone corridors and into the starlit night.

Greenheart was a wizard of dance, their movements as mesmerising as flames dancing in the wind, as serene as sunlight reflecting off a quiet river. Each twirl, each leap was a spell cast, entrancing all who watched. They held the beauty of ancient lines tattooed to their body and face art in its greatest manifestation, a vision to behold.

Zebedee, the stoic guardian of the fire, was ever present by the hearth. Legend whispered that if Zebedee were to abandon his post, Featherstone Castle would crumble. Such was the gravity of his duty, yet he carried it with unwavering resolve. In his hands, he held the flame that lit up the castle, its warm glow welcoming all who sought refuge within its walls.

As the night deepened and the revelry reached a peak, NoName joined Mermaid’s divine rhythms with their own unique beats. Greenheart danced to the music, casting spells that illuminated the naked bodies of faeries in an ethereal light. Zebedee watched over the fire, its crackling flames a comforting lullaby to those who had danced until their feet could carry them no longer.

Soul, the faerie healer, was blessed with a voice that could cure any ailment. Her songs were medicine, soothing the minds and bodies of her fellow faeries and restoring harmony within the castle walls.

Eden, the embodiment of love, filled the gun room with an aura of affection. Under Eden’s influence, faeries would find themselves in intimate embrace, their naked bodies radiating warmth and love. All were called to join the passion of the naked faerie in front of the fire with love for all.

Then there was Acorn, a young faerie bursting with energy. He had the strength of a thousand faeries and the agility of twenty goblins. With a single leap, he could clear the castle’s highest point, his youthful exuberance a source of joy to all. Their art was known in many lands as the greatest of all art.

The faeries of Featherstone Castle were a diverse and talented group, each bringing their own unique gifts to the community. Together, they created a harmonious atmosphere that was unlike any other place in the realm.

As the Samhain festival approached, preparations were made throughout the castle. The kitchens bustled with activity as cakes and pies were made for a feast of delights.

Mackerel Sky, the keeper of plant wisdom, held knowledge of all living things within this realm and beyond. Their understanding of nature was unparalleled, their wisdom sought by all faeries. From the gardens of Featherstone Castle to the far reaches of the enchanted forests, Mackerel Sky’s green thumb could be seen in every living thing.

Despite their differences and quirks, each faerie had a special place in Featherstone Castle. As they celebrated Samhain together, they were reminded of the importance of community and unity. Together, they created magic unlike that seen before.

And finally, there was Magpie, the only faerie granted the gift of flight. She was a collector of jewels, each piece a treasure fit for a king. Wise and mysterious, she moved silently, her flight as graceful as a dance in the moonlight. Her presence was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is still beauty and magic to be found.

As the Samhain celebration commenced, Featherstone Castle came alive with laughter and song, love and dance. Each faerie played their part, their unique talents contributing to the magic of the night. From NoName’s drumming to Mermaid’s ancestral call, from Greenheart’s enchanting dances to Zebedee’s eternal vigil, from Soul’s healing songs to Eden’s aura of love, from Acron’s leaps of joy to Mackerel Sky’s wisdom, and from Magpie’s dazzling flight, the castle was filled with wonder and joy. As the moon reached its pinnacle, Mermaid took over the drums. The tempo shifted, the beats becoming deeper, more resonant. The fire flickered, and the ancestors emerged, their ethereal forms waltzing before the glowing embers. The faeries watched, spellbound, their hearts swelling with reverence and love for the spectral dancers. Bridging the gap between the faeries and their ancestors.

In the kitchen, Chachi was mixing a pot of sacramental brew, carefully adding drops of magic to create the perfect hallucinogenic brew. The faeries eagerly awaited their turn to sip from the cauldron and experience a different kind of magic that would open their minds and souls to new realms of existence.

Astro from the river faeries, maker of songs and keeper of sequins, arrived with gifts of shimmering fabrics and sparkling jewels. They adorned each fairer in dazzling garments, transforming into ethereal beings that shone brightly under the moonlight.

As the night went on, the faeries danced and sang, their bodies moving in perfect harmony with the rhythms of nature. The castle was alive with magic as they celebrated the cycle of life and death.

As the night progressed, the faeries danced until their feet were sore and their heart’s content. They drank from the cauldron, indulging in Chachi’s concoction and exploring new levels of consciousness and being.

As the night wore on, the faeries danced wildly around the fire, lost in a trance induced by Chachi’s concoction of spells and sacrament.

Their story became a cherished folklore, a tale recounted at every Samhain gathering, a tribute to that magical night in the faerie castle, a testament to the magic of unity, love, and celebration in the faerie realm.

Blossom, the collector of coins and maker of music, buzzed around, keeping the spirits high with their lively tunes. And in the midst of it all, Zebedee stood, his eternal vigil never wavering, his flame ever burning, reminding the faeries that no matter how wild and joyous the celebration may be, there must always be someone to keep watch over the fire.

As the night drew to a close and the last notes of music faded away, the faeries gathered together in a circle. Holding hands, they thanked their ancestors for their eternal guidance and protection. As they looked up at the moon shining bright above them, they knew that no matter what challenges may come their way, they always had each other and the magic of Samhain to guide them through, year after year.

For in Featherstone Castle, the faeries had created a place where magic never died, and love and unity were always celebrated. And as they drifted off to sleep, with smiles on their faces and hearts full of joy, they looked forward to another year of enchantment and wonder in their beloved home. No matter how far apart they may journey throughout the realm, they will always return to Featherstone Castle, their true home and sanctuary. And as long as they had each other, they knew that the magic would never end. So, let us raise our glasses to the faeries of Featherstone Castle, for they are a reminder that no matter how small or different we may seem, there is always a place where we belong and are loved beyond measure.

You can only be there to be transformed.

On leaving Brighton last June, I was full of bravado. Determined for a new chapter and challenge. Calling out to London and the next rung of academia, I was determined that this city in all its sprawl and corners; its chaos, capital and overwhelm, would teach me a lesson. Help me smash the plant pot that had become Brighton for the previous decade and revitalise me somehow – let me grow.

 

Probably naively – wide open and fatigued from the summer downloads of Folleterre and heartbreak of Berlin – I rocked up to meet her in my typical state of unpreparedness. All tentacles, no core. 

 

In retrospect, owing everything to the wild resilience of other residents, who gave me shade in all manner of ways and allowed me to probe and curl new roots around the curves and cracks of this relentless, steaming slab. 

 

I hit winter hard. Watched another illusion of encounter and connection whither. And set into a space nearly and then finally my own. Alone in the east, smoking and drinking too much and posturing in unhealthy ways around too much Netflix and procrastination, I burned out. Sank into chronic pain and scared myself of how unwell I can become. Popped up every now and again to talk to people about gut health – mesmerising them with northern articulation, anecdote and stand up. The download that leaves me depleted. Then went back to it. The lack of embodiment obvious;  ashamed to talk about healing in such a state of dis-ease. 

 

Up until early spring, I was up for calling it a day. I think the thought of anyone close to me having to navigate the chaos of my material legacy after the fact was the only pacifier. The sun was a rescue at first if only in animation. Found myself wondering cruising grounds too early until I met myself. And that’s kind of where London took me – really deep into the pain that I think Brighton bandaged. Scared me hard enough that I had to look again at my shit. To look again at why for so many years I kept cycling through peak experiences to crash upon my arse lost and alone. This time, she gave me a place where I would be alone and then let me really sink into it. 

 

After years of meeting my makers in folds of geometry; holding, receiving and pouring into heart circle, singing with frogs and puking into buckets; sweating in lodges, vibrating around fires and sucking cock in ritual – it was clear that yeah, I still had some work to do. 

 

Part of that began at Unston Grange at the beginning of spring. Where after a long and deliberate hiatus from the Albion circle, I tentatively reconnected with the community. Momentarily bringing a bit of that shadow into the light of a relatively new format for domestic community. Away from the corridors of the castle and some of the trickier relating I find there, and perhaps a bit of the unprocessed shame and history of Avalon – here, there was a rhythm of community that spoke of home again. In both the silence and the stars, I felt held. And I went back to my lair in London in a kind of renewal. 

 

In Spring I found myself co-facilitating a gathering in Portugal. Finally in that place of stone and lavender which had been such an online effort in shadow to help co-create. And I felt fully home again on-continent, in community and surprised myself at how boundless, connected, in love and strong I could feel. How accepted and accepting I could be. 

 

At this gathering I brought the shadow dance – product of years of fantasising about this form of ritual – and watched through my mask, in awe; charged and connected in a way I’ve only known with the plants – as the community, initially apprehensive, responded. Lurching and moaning in shapes around the fire in honour of one of our most taboo, tricksterish, yet essential teachers. And then walking back into sanctuary revealed somehow. Honest. Open. Seen. 

 

After having the opportunity to deepen my connection with a faerie at ADF, already known but not known, they said their goodbyes and gratitudes to me in the bathroom whilst I hid behind my toothbrush. But I heard what they said and it re-inspired me to the kind of heart I’m capable of. Later as I sat bare arsed on a chocolate and banana cake in no-talent, windmills gushing to my left on the hill – I felt the reminder of inner rest flow through me like I hadn’t in a long time. I’d come home. 

 

Beltane was the ignition for self-love, clarity, assessments and therapy. And for the first time in my process I got some answers around why my experience in the world had been pitched the way it had been for so long. I saw very clearly who I could be and wanted to be in the laboratory of community and the work I’d need to do to brave that heart in the rest of the world. 

 

Probing and manifesting those depths is never seamless though – and on leading upto some of the biggest medicine of the year, Pan Gathering – I wobbled. Felt the pressures of navigating the system in the city materially and reluctant to shift my focus to where it counts. But I went and arrived in the heart of a process where wild, free and naked in the woods I fully embodied the truth of my names in a circle of Pan revellers both old and new. Let my heart fully connect and worship another unconditionally. Fully knew my Libra in Venus. Re-calibrated on what I need in terms of romance and feeling in the collective. Renegotiated my polyamory – maybe even abandoned an aspect of my polyamory. Got a taste of where to go when I am cut adrift. Held space graciously despite my ram. Felt my power. Reconnected wholly with my spirituality through drum and rattle. Believed again. Heard the horse on the hill whinny at my private ritual at the ancestors tree – just like the first time, years ago. Felt totally the wisdom of my sisters and what they mean to me when I reach out and allow. 

 

In that gathering I heard such profound poetry and meaning and fully understood the experiential nature of our culture – our profoundly oral tradition. Breathing in medicine for the heart in whispers and eyes, like silk parcels through the letterbox of my soul. You can’t write these exchanges to their full potency. You can only be there to be transformed. 

 

Despite a few closing thanks – this is where my piece initially ended. I hesitated at posting at first because of the more raw truth in the struggle. But also, a technical issue with the website came up and I couldn’t get in to post. So I kind of sat on it. Almost forgot. And then Queer Spirit Festival happened and in retrospect, I couldn’t have really said what I wanted to say without it. 

 

Any of the community close to me know that I’ve had some political misgivings about the impact of the festival on faerie culture. The groundswell of new energy and the challenge it brings for the sensitive transmission of our cultures and ways – and for those negotiating and finding their space in our folds with their own histories, experiences and boundaries. The energy it takes to grow, rather than tend. But more personally, community is a delicate web for me where I feel trust through being properly seen and understood. And despite the excesses of Fish Wife, Octopus is a creature of solitude or at least, of a tight nest. 

 

But in the spirit of the medicine this year, I showed up. And I was moved. 

 

The faerie encampment was such a profound healing experience of a circle within a circle – from where I could stretch out, dance, laugh, feel, touch, taste, fondle and fuck with this enormous and beautiful sodden love nest of queer hearted beings. I was honoured to serve the high priestess GayLove in assisting in the sacred sexuality temple; where I saw the most radical visions of queer utopia in action. The full spectrum of gender embodied in the play-fighting, foreskin stretching, cunt sharing, pain meditating, queer orgying ecstacy; which spoke to me of a true and honest scope of our boundaries and readiness for evolution in the co-creation of fundamentally queer places of spirit, play and worship. Both sober and messy, I found and felt profound love in that place. It dawned on me after all of these years in community, what I don’t see or hide from. That we are fucking family. And it was deep – no prose needed. But also, that exponential broadening, deepening, spreading and sharing of our spaces is the work. And that I am part of it. Gratitude and graces, Octopus may have been a bit late to the party. 

 

I am now in Berlin. Still riding the waves of QS and entering Virgo season feeling a bit like I’m being blown apart and filed into a different path. It’s bringing more truth, more clarity and a search for the future of me; of the love and the spaces I want to be part of and to create. It’s not that this isn’t without its bumps, retraction, re-entrenchment, old-patterning and a bit of mania-dusting – but it is what it is and overall, it’s promising. 

 

And in that sense, dear faeries – this is a thankyou. Thankyou for saving my life time and time again. Thankyou for loving me. Thankyou for showing me a life that I am so blessed to live with you. Every year I am changed through you. 

 

And while yes, I can curl up all tendril in my time away – not sure where my point of reconnection is, whether I can relate, or how to start over – I know that you’re waiting for me to begin the walk again. And that each time of holding your hands up and through it, I come back to myself more whole. More potent. More wise. That this dance never ends and that I still feel you in my hair, when I walk the other paths alone. 

 

Changes are afoot. 

 

Octopus & Fish Wife X 

 

Special thanks to True Paradox, Ofra, Eyal, Ananda, GayLove, Sprouty Merlot, Blue Star, My Little Pony, Bliss, Shokti Lovestar, Faunalicious, Foxie Plethora Deux Mille, Hazel, Printemps, Wood Pigeon, Andy B, Mushroom, Kingfisher, Thunder, Princess, Iris, Bholenath, Nigel and Ed.

Other stuff by Octopus:

Breakups | A Call to Sisterhood. 

Our Glorious Bodies. 

Albion gathering history

At a political demo in London this summer I met a Radical Faerie from Atlanta, the city faerie clan in Georgia that currently has a reputation for being the most active and fertile group in the USA.  He told me that he had heard that the Albion Faeries are ‘very spiritual’.  By this I don’t think he meant that we go to church on time, or that we all line up dutifully for morning practice, nor even that we are super nice to each other (and compared to some of what I have seen in American sanctuaries, we actually are).  He may have been referring to the way we meet regularly to honour the moon cycles, and also to the way our gatherings are built to consciously get the most out of the energies of the seasonal festivals of the wheel of the year.  As I feel very fortunate to have discovered very early into my personal spiritual journey, our ultimate task while alive is to follow our spirit, not our given/chosen spiritual path.  Fortunate also to have discovered how the cycles of the Sun and Moon, and the rhythms of Nature, give us all we need to liberate the spirit, to heal and awaken the soul, if we become conscious of them.  Gatherings are a very effective way of discovering the gifts and subtleties of a season’s energy.

The Albion clan of the global Radical Faerie tribe are about to hold our 21st gathering since we first assembled at Featherstone Castle in Northumberland a decade ago at Imbolc 2006.

faegathEight times we gathered at the enchanted Featherstone, our Faerie Hogwarts, during the cold Winter months…. Twice over Christmas and SIX times at Imbolc.  These were thermal fashion, finding-divinity-through-the-duvet gatherings, with lots of cosiness around fires, intimate, slow heart circles held at sunset in the blue room (which most people attended) and freezing ballroom discos – divas dancing around the tall radiator heaters not their handbags.

The Imbolc gatherings were slow paced, cosy and for the most part mellow.  There was a lot of deep sharing and healing going on, also of course an element of high spirited partying, which for some occasionally seemed to become more central to the experience than the healing journey.  Whether related to that or not, we experienced a lot of physical sickness at the last few castle winter gatherings.  I suggest that if we do not attend effectively to the soul healing that spirit calls us together to address, it is easy for sickness to manifest in our bodies.

I also feel that the deep healing work that many of us did engage in for ourselves… and for the collective… during those deep and magical winter retreats (there was one stunning year that it snowed deeply before we arrived and didn’t melt until we left… we were outside doing naked photo shoots in glistening sunshine, we also built a snowhenge) was now done.  Spirit was pushing us out of our winter dream time space to explore new territories.  The conditions at Featherstone in February were proving too tough, but the wish to continue meeting to savour the sparkling energies of Imbolc, and each other as a respite from the dark winter period, was strong – so gatherings shifted to Paddington Farm in Glastonbury, where space is limited and we have to be cosy with each other.

Sometimes it is so exciting to escape the winter blues and arrive in faerie land it can be tempting to forget that the spirit at this time of year is asking us to light a small inner fire, not a conflagration… is inviting us to look within and heal, preparing ourselves for the busier time of year ahead.  Imbolc has an exciting energy of potential and promise, but it’s still winter.  The Featherstone winter gatherings gave us attendees a powerful experience of deep stillness – because the land holding us was itself so cold and still, while in Glastonbury the earth energy is much lighter and livelier.  It does not offer us the kind of deep winter spirit experience that many of us got to know in the Northumberland wilderness.

Imbolc is a time to come together for warmth and reassurance in the dark months of the year – the faeries of Albion have explored this season’s energy more than most other clans around the world.  Imbolc is also a much celebrated faerie festival in southern United States – an annual Brigit Ball is held in New Orleans, in a very different climate to our northern retreat.  So maybe that’s where the spirit of the British maiden goddess emigrated to after her people forgot about her here, somewhere much warmer!

In 2014 we gathered for the first Albion Spring Gathering, held over the Equinox shift from winter Pisces water to spring Aries fire energy, discovering powerful magic through consciously making that shift within ourselves in sync with the planet.  We returned to Featherstone for this and subsequent Spring gatherings, taking huge delight in the warmer temperatures both outside and within the castle, in the longer hours of daylight, the lambs in the fields and the bright Spring sunshine.

2014 was the year of our second Summer Solstice Gathering at Paddington Farm under the Tor, but the first year the magic really took off there for us.  Powerful workshops releasing shame from our lives prepared the ground for a ritual rise into blissful communion around our hot and sizzling Solstice fire in the woods.  Many a faerie’s deep rooted dreams of passion and play in nature were fulfilled that night, and our merry mystical dance with the woodland spirits has continued at the Solstice gatherings since. 2014 Solstice brought a glorious sunrise witnessed by many Fae up on the top of Glastonbury Tor.  We arrived there at dawn, a very merry band of kissing, cuddling queers livening up the atmosphere amongst the local hippies and characters of Avalon.

2015 the Albion Faeries filled in the last remaining gap in the seasonal calendar with our first Autumn gathering, Featherstone providing the most perfect setting for 9 days of Samhain sorcery and spooky delight.  Within a decade we have held gatherings in each of the four seasons of the year, this seeming to me like a very significant statement from our collective to the cosmos that we are not messing around, the Albion Faeries are a spiritual tribe and we mean business.

An issue that comes up for us, it seems every few years, is around substance use and abuse.  The issue seems to arise when we have become accustomed to a venue and start to take the magic for granted.  Or maybe we just get lazy about doing the work that opens the gates to it?

When we cosmic queers gather together and open the gates to the heart and spirit we are inviting the potent powers of the universe to come be part of the journey with us.  Those powers answer the call gladly when they feel the sincerity behind it, and they bring the possibility of profound awakening and transformation to our conclaves.  Having invited super powered cosmic guests to the feast it is silly to ignore them, and seek illusory transcendence through quick fixes.  Sometimes of course suitably blessed and prepared sacraments are part of the exploration of our faerie nature that we undertake.  As we are in community space and not a gay holiday camp it would seem vital. and natural that those using substances as part of their experience would aim to do so consciously, with awareness given to how their choices impact on others.

Our self-defined and self-declared community has grown rapidly in a decade. Is this the moment for us to take a collective breath and consider how, where, when and why… we do what we do.  Our last two gatherings at Paddington have led to some disturbance and, it seems, division, amongst us.  By contrast the last two Featherstone outings have been extremely well blessed on all counts.  It is noticeable to me that while the castle gatherings have had several faeries stepping forward to be part of the organising team, there has been a shortage of new energy in the Glastonbury team.  There even seems to be some element of ‘consumer’ culture seeping into Paddington.  I also think we have been sticking to a tried and tested formula in our gathering spaces and not really adapting fully yet to the differing energies of each season.  What works for a cosy Winter or lazy Lammas retreat may not be the best formula for the highly individuated energies of the Summer Solstice.  These high energy gatherings, which have become very large very quickly, could perhaps be held more ‘lightly’, with less expectation of a tightly bonded faerie unit than at other times of the year. They could be more like a faerie ‘festival’ than a conventional gathering.  It simply does not seem practical to expect large numbers of fae to achieve the type of bonding and intensity that we know so well when our numbers are so large and the space we are occupying is also used by other people, when we are so close to the attractions of Avalon and when the Sun energy is at its peak.  But a less formal faerie festival that embraces these factors as gifts might manifest a lovely energy.

2017 looks like being a different kind of year for the Albion Faeries.

Featherstone Castle has been booked for a Global Gathering in August, to which we will invite a number of activist queers from countries in Africa/Middle East/South America/Eastern Europe/Asia to come tell their stories and have an experience of the kind of compassionate community the Faeries create.  This gathering is being run in collaboration with the organisers of the first Global Gathering in California held two years ago. With a limit on the number of places the organising team is asking only faeries who feel passionate about the global rights of lgbtq people, and who wish to input into the creation of a global queer shamanic conscious community, to come along.

The castle has not been booked for a Spring gathering next year, Team Butterfly figuring that after 3 successful Spring events there a fallow year was appropriate.  Dates have been booked for October.

Imbolc at Paddington Farm is booked for us but as yet I believe there is no organising team for a Summer Solstice gathering.  I think we could consider also taking a year off from the Solstice gathering, giving time to reconsider how we gather in that space should we wish to continue using it.

This potentially would leave a huge gap between our Imbolc gathering and the August Global, and both of these two have restrictions on the numbers that can attend.  Could this space be an opportunity for new initiatives to manifest?  To perhaps try out smaller gatherings in new locations, perhaps built around themes that some people wish to explore?  I would also like to encourage as many Albion Fae as possible get off our little island and go experience the spirit at American and Euro Faerie sanctuaries, to make connections with other parts of the tribe and learn from how they do things.

The Albion Faeries are part of a global network of queer healers and agents of change and transformation.  There is surely something significant about the Radical Faerie spirit finding a home in the pagan homeland Albion, reaching here via the United States and European gatherings and sanctuaries.  We are exploring the crucial link between our sexuality, nature and consciousness, we are birthing the Age of Aquarius. We are also a crucial beacon for lost, confused and abused queers who are not finding their place in the soulless modern world, nor in the shallow end of gay life.  We offer a plunge into the radical depths of being, and a lot of fun while plunging.  It is well worth us taking stock of what we have achieved and plotting a way forward with consciousness, compassion and care. The Albion Faeries are a ‘very spiritual’ clan of queer magicians, a fact that needs to be properly honoured and understood as we enter our second decade of community building.

-Shokti

Some Observations on the Albion Faeries at the end of Summer 2016

This has been a busy and dramatic year so far for the Fae in Albion, even from my partial and occasional viewing but I have had a number of conversations over the months and yesterday even they crystallized for me in a long conversation with Shokti.  From this conversation several thoughts have emerged about where we are and some of the issues facing us as we move into the future.  I shall attempt here to summarise my current thinking, with the always present caveat that I may change my mind and adjust my opinions as new information and circumstances arise (or when the wind changes, I am a Queen and therefore will, because I can X)!

Is this a time for a taking stock of where the Albion Faeries are?  After the strife and challenges and achievements of this year some thought about how we move forward, in inclusivity, in safety, in numbers and activities could be of assistance to us.

In that last few years the number of events and gatherings held under the Faerie name here in Albion has multiplied and the numbers of Fae with them, thus it is increasingly difficult for all of us to know everyone, there are new faeries, faeries who have never been to the events we(I!?) have, old faeries who haven’t been for several years.  This is Wonderful!  And challenging!  Informal gossip networks that sufficed for information exchange and organising are creaking trying to include everyone, core values and practices can be diluted/lost in all the wonderful new opportunities and experiences offered by so many new Fae.  I do think however that some consciousness needs to be brought to this process, an awareness and thoughtfulness.  For instance, it is several years since I have been greeted on first arrival in a Faerie space with the words “welcome home” which was my first magical experience at my first Faerie gathering, I miss it; and I wonder how many have never had that experience?  Maybe I’m being old fogeyish, maybe not, but this and other practices might be usefully thought about before being abandoned all together – or after consideration revived?

As part of the growth in numbers and events the Faerie purse has grown to!  When I joined a set of accounts was circulating showing a balance of about £2,000 (I don’t remember the exact figure), comfortable but not earth shattering for a group of our then size and nature.  Most gatherings since then have (wonderfully) turned a profit and as far as I am aware the purse now stands at something over £10,000.  This is great, but now presents us with the challenge of what might/do we want to start doing with this.  How much do we need to keep in hand as a ‘rainy day fund’ against a financially disastrous gathering or event, what is over, what could we do with the surplus(es?).  Do we want to seriously start saving for The Land?  We are now at the stage where that looks like a possible target, not this year perhaps or next, but in a few years time perhaps.  Do we want to set up a system to support sending some fae to short Mountain or other US sanctuaries to learn and deepen our connection with our sister/cousins in America, bringing that new skills and knowledges home with them?  The very beautiful suggestion earlier from Shokti about funding some LGBTQI refugees to attend Queer Spirit started an excellent debate – I think the solution reached was perfect – but it leaves the question open about outreach to those who may have no way of making even travel costs, and may face cultural barriers to even finding out we exist.  Next year there is the World Gathering in August, an enormous opportunity, and challenge, happening here in Albion.  Will we provide seed money to this?  Will that be a loan or a grant, or dependant on how that gathering does financially?  I note here as well that the Faerie spirit has this year moved Arian Bloodwood to start offering workshops on ‘changing your relationship to money’ inspired by the Faerie Hammer.  They are amazing and well worth attending if you can, and if you can’t get to London trying to persuade Arian to come to you! (He doesn’t know I’m saying this, but will no doubt find out J…).

Finally, there is the matter of Faerie magic/heart space/spirit.  This is not an accidental or happenstance aspect of the Faeries.  It is a core part of what makes us faeries and not just another holiday camp for vaguely like minded alternative hippy types into booze, parties and sex. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just not ALL we’re about and recently I think that our growth and changes have made that more difficult to create and maintain, again my thinking is that this needs a deliberateness and attention that it has maybe not always been receiving.  We have relied on “co-creation” to make sacred heart space happen.  I would offer that we need to be much more deliberate and considered around this to make our future developments easier to manage well.

-Minerva

 

It’s time to renew our love.

I don’t know what to say about my experiences at the solstice. And I don’t know how to voice them.

I don’t want to use language that triggers. I’m lost by language that talks of “men” and “women”. I don’t see “men” and “women”, I see individual souls, layered, complex, experience-specific. That is my truth. I accept others see differently. I seek to connect with people in faerie space from my essential soul to theirs.

I seek to connect with all in some “authentic” way and being an empath I was awash with emotions at the gathering, some as high as the sky, some as deep, as dissident as the ocean.

I went into this gathering wounded. Alongside Orlando’s hate attack came a hate outbreak in our online community and it enfeebled me.

I think it placed fear in our hearts, fear which grew as the gathering unfolded.

I believe that fear creates fear. It sensitizes, focuses, triggers fear. Fear seeds itself.

I have not heard much talk of fear at our gatherings before. I ask was it there and not spoken or was it not there?

Was it our fear or the inrush from Orlando at the solstice?

There was grace and kindness, laughter and caring. There were wonderful workshops. There was delicious food. I felt that flowering of heart that faerie gatherings nurture. Our first heart circle, starting late at night, was profound. Death was a significant theme and the celebration of life.

Faerie space is precious to all who experience it. It embraces light and shadow. We feel shifts in our emotional frequency there. Could it be that a protective urge is emerging for some? A desire to define that preciousness, to keep it safe? How can we do that when we all have light and shadow in us. Would some of us seek to repress the shadow?

After four days the group had grown large. Finding volunteers for things was noticeably a strain. I did not sense that we were operating or connected as a single group. That was surprising. It felt unusual to me. The energy felt scattered, volatile.

Nothing formal was done for the group and nothing formal was done to orient newcomers. Our organisers continued to be very low on energy. I was curious to hear some newcomers say they’d been told faerie gatherings were sex parties. I sensed the possibility of mixed messages.

More time passed and my awareness of fear and fragmentation increased. I pushed both aside, rejoiced as the farm was glittered in preparation for the procession and Well rituals.

I left on Sunday at lunchtime. Many beautiful farewells filled my heart and eyes. I pushed away an increasing dis-ease in the energy field. I did not have any resources to offer and a long drive home.

I don’t know really what happened after I left. Many voices speaking different truths. Many silent. Many emotions. Faeries offering insights, ways to learn and heal. Faeries heavy with questions.
“We will not heal the world’s fear by giving it place in our hearts”. My heart spoke these words. They felt too raw to share on Facebook. Facebook has felt a complicated, raw place, sometimes enlivened with laughter and kindness.

Someone said the enemy of fear is love. I have been seeking to love more and fear less, although it would be a lie to say I don’t fear the energy of fear, for it is very potent.

Now is our time to renew love, starting with ourselves.

Oh how easy and trite that line sounds. And I’ve never in my life been more serious.

Love brings us together, guides us to appreciation of our differences, treasures what we hold in common and makes our particular joy manifest.

This poem came to me shortly after I got home from Glastonbury. Reading it now I hear the Mother’s voice speaking to us so clearly…

Solstice 2016
The rain met you
frothed the sky
in bloody rivers
So many
And they did nothing
but show their faces
to the rage

Fretful sun
kept its distance

Like empty hammocks
you hang about crisscrossed
Weigh the countless years
left to live
Attempt amends
with fires and food and drums
but this time cannot raise
the price of redemption

Till you take your own brittle skylark
wings and shatter them
Thick juices
stain the soil
Then the sun re-opens
a path to your faces
Then the sun reclaims its place
and purply spreads
around enfolding
each as a mother’s
song enfolds a child
until it settles again

With love, Qweaver

Does the world change when you close your eyes?

Dear great spirit – I offer gratitude for your guidance and total removal of nice predictable patterns!

Just as I was feeling comfortable in having read and followed the “solstice script” around my thoughts, feelings and emotions, this year you, of course, re-wrote it.

I was expecting a slight hiccup at the start before moving in to warm, joyous connection, sensuality and rising energies, culminating in cosmic-orgasmic eruptions around the fire.

I got tumultuous fits of cynicism to get past, coldness to learn to love, connections that felt confusing to me with energy flows that seemed random and awkward at times.

What I wanted, what I sought to create, what I felt must happen – it was as elusive as ice upon a fire.

Yet I feel I am learning – something around “choice”; that sometimes there is no point getting stressed out or worked up around having to decide this or that. More and more it seems that for me at least, choice is actually a misrepresented thing; a presumptive thought that “ME” can decide to do or not do, to go or not go, to act or not act. The reality is that I am in service to spirit and the “choices” are already there.  Thinking I can say yes or no makes no sense much like deciding to choose not to see the heard of elephants that is stampeding towards you; pretending that the great hole you have just fallen in to isn’t there; kidding yourself that you are stone dry when you take a shower…

Now back away from nature and from faerie energy, I notice myself falling back in to that crater of my habits, of my addictions, of my lack of being able to feel the loving connection of all and everything.

BUT

Sitting here, as I look back, great Spirit is slowly letting me re-read my solstice script. It’s beginning to seem that those 10 days under the energy of the Torr were the abridged summation of my life.

I have “wants”; I have “desires”; I have need to “control”; I have lack of self-belief; I have cynicism; I find it hard to trust others…

I cling to the idea that I have to make choices and the fate and flow of the universe hangs from every one of those decisions ….

I dragged myself in to the gathering at the start and I ran away from it at the end and I see it is so easy for me to let the cold and wet grow in my sole and let the love, the dancing, the sharing, the connection, the vulnerability, the holding – the faerie spirit – fade and die.

I can “choose” to let that happen but of course it won’t actually since deep down the good is still there, waiting to resurface at the next gathering – so my choice is just a closing of my eyes, a denying of what is there.

Keeping your eyes open when you feel tired is hard; Seeing what you don’t want to see is painful.

Perhaps the solution is to embrace spending time with Captain Caffeine, with Molly Mandy and with others?

But the message seems clear – those elephants will keep on coming even if my eyes are closed!

Snail – June 2016

Does the world change...
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Angels surround me – by Unicorn

The Angels surround me
In you
In me
All around us
Benevolent spirits
We channel them
Are them

Came from them and will go back to them

We came here to meet again
In this special place
Sacred
To celebrate life
Ourselves
Sexuality

Heal each other with our stories from our hearts

Allowing our beautiful souls to shine through our past traumas

As they are erased
We are reborn
Like the earth is reborn each spring
Getting back into tune with nature
Such a beautiful thing

A fandango of faeries – by Blue.

By night, by day, fifty shades of gay
The beige, the pink, the queer, the fae
A fandango of faeries with lavendar farts
Medicine to heal and mend broken hearts

Improvised singing, heartbeats and drums
Heart circles, meditation, yoga, numb bums
Tinsel curtains and fires, rivers, rocks and trees
Banquets and sunrise, hot baths, dirty knees.

Ten days an oasis, a whisper, a cuddle
Warm by the fire, from the outside we huddle
Battling demons, clutching mugs of steaming tea
Evolve, Emerge, with wings we’re set free.

Featherstone – by Shokti

Honouring sexuality as a sacred force of nature.

Revealing love as divine presence, infinite, abundant and meant for everyone.

Uniting the worlds of spirit and matter, expressed in art, in dance, in rhythm, in drag, expressed in ecstatic flow and in majestic stillness.

Featherstone.

Fires on the water. Deep peace and deep release.

Flames igniting in hearts. Butterfly wings outstretched.