Thither after the battle of Camlan we took the wounded Arthur … and Morgen received us with fitting honor, and in her chamber she placed the king on a golden bed and with her own hand she uncovered his honorable wound and gazed at it for a long time. At length she said that health could be restored to him if he stayed with her for a long time and made use of her healing art.
—Vita Merlini, Geoffrey of Monmouth
Avalon has been known by many names, has been accorded many attributes, and has inspired many ages on its journey down the stream of tradition to the present day. It is the Island of Apples, the Fortunate Isle, the Shining Isle, and the Island of the Blessed. It is an Island of Women, an Island of the Otherworld, and the Isle of the Dead. But above these all, Avalon is known best as the Island of Healing, perhaps a reflection of its attachment to the Arthurian mythos, that current of lore which has been fed by many tributaries of legend and tradition. Perhaps it is Avalon’s role as the place where Arthur awaits Britain’s need which has secured it to memory, acting as that sacred container where the hope of many Britons has been poured: that the folk hero, Arthur, held and healed in Avalon’s embrace, would one day keep his promise and return to save his people from the bondage of foreign invaders. That the legendary king (who some believe may be of divine origin) would return and claim his sovereign right to rule over the land, uniting its people under the banner of the dragon.
It is thought that the belief in the return of Arthur is what kept the light of hope in the hearts of the Britons—the Welsh, the Cornish, and those of the Old North—as they faced wave after wave of invasion and war after Rome withdrew from its shores. It is this hope in Arthur, some scholars believe, that led to the discovery of his grave at Glastonbury Abbey in 1191, and which forever married the legend of Avalon with the real-world place of Glastonbury; if you find Arthur’s resting place, you have found the island of Avalon. The monks of the abbey were said to have discovered a hollowed-out oak tree containing two skeletons; interred with them was a lead cross with the following inscription: Hic jacet sepultus inclitus rex Arthurus in insula Avalonia: “Here lies interred the famous King Arthur on the Isle of Avalon.” One of the skeletons was said to still have strands of long blond hair and was believed to be the remains of Arthur’s queen, Guinevere.
On the one hand, as this discovery came a few years after the abbey had experienced major damage from a fire in 1184, some historians believe that this discovery, and the subsequent pomp and circumstance—and visits from pilgrims—that came with the establishment of a cult to Arthur at Glastonbury, was a cynical ploy to attract funds to the abbey to assist in their rebuilding project. However, another motivation to perpetuate what most scholars believe was an elaborate fraud may have been even worse.
The period of time from the initial exhumation of the remains—apparently witnessed by well-regarded historian Gerald of Wales (also known as Giraldus Cambrensis) seven years after the fire at the abbey—through to the eventual creation of a marble tomb in front of the high altar in which the remains were re-entombed by Edward I in 1278, the English were fighting fierce wars against the Welsh. It is believed that the discovery of Arthur’s grave was intended to function as part of a propaganda war against the Welsh—to destroy any sense of hope that Arthur, as messianic folk hero, could grant to them. If the famous king was proven to be dead, there would be little reason to believe he would be coming to save them from the English.1
Gerald of Wales gives his accounting of the exhumation of Arthur’s remains in two of his works, and there is no reason to doubt that he was present at the event. A twelfth-century clergyman who was the author of seventeen books, Gerald was a staunch supporter of England, himself three-quarters Norman, and a quarter Welsh (the great-grandson, in fact, of Rhys ap Tewdwr, the Prince of South Wales). In 1216, he wrote about the deeper meaning of the discovery of Arthur’s grave:
Many tales are told and many legends have been invented about King Arthur and his mysterious ending. In their stupidity the British people maintain that he is still alive. Now that the truth is known, I have taken the trouble to add a few more details in this present chapter. The fairy-tales have been snuffed out, and the true and indubitable facts are made known, so that what really happened must be made crystal clear to all and separated from the myths which have accumulated on the subject.
—Speculum Ecclesiae, Gerald of Wales
Gerald of Wales was also the first to write about the connection of Avalon to Glastonbury, in 1193:
What is now known as Glastonbury was, in ancient times, called the Isle of Avalon. It is virtually an island, for it is completely surrounded by marshlands. In Welsh it is called Ynys Afallach, which means the Island of Apples and this fruit once grew in great abundance. After the Battle of Camlann, a noblewoman called Morgan, later the ruler and patroness of these parts as well as being a close blood-relation of King Arthur, carried him off to the island, now known as Glastonbury, so that his wounds could be cared for.
—Liber de Principis instructione, Gerald of Wales
The stories of Avalon became attached to the lore of Arthur but are inspired by a tradition far older. The earliest tales say nothing of Arthur’s role as a savior; in the earliest historical mentions, he is a chieftain and a war duke. In Geoffrey of Monmouth’s pseudo-history, Historia Regum Britannia (The History of the Kings of Britain), Arthur is the recipient of assistance from the enigmatic Lady of the Lake, who is his ally and benefactress. She gifts him with the sword of Sovereignty as a validation of his right to rule, a sword said to have been forged on the Holy Island of Avalon and used only to confer kingship upon a worthy man. Through this act, she reveals the underlying truth of her nature, identifying herself and the women of Avalon with the goddesses and holy women empowered to grant sovereignty on behalf of the land, as well as holding a resonance with the traditions of the Ninefold Sisterhoods know to us from the lore of many Celtic lands. In Britain, they are the keepers of the Cauldron of Annwn, muses and prophetesses, shape-shifters and weather witches, initiators and healers.
Although famed for its healing arts, Avalon is much more than this. It is a threshold place, a portal between this world and the Otherworld, between history and legend, between consciousness and the unconscious, between shadow and Sovereignty, and between Self and Source. And what is the way to pass over this threshold? How can we bridge the space between that which is known and that which can only be learned by delving into the deeper mystery? How can we part the mists that guard the space between and obscure the opening in the gateway through which we can reach the inner Avalon?
We can do so by way of the Island of Healing.
It is this outermost avatar of the Holy Island that is easiest for us to reach, and with good reason. Like the pilgrims in Arthurian legend, who must spend the night in vigil and prayer at the shrine of Beckery before being able to step foot on the Holy Island, we too must take the time to connect with our intention, and consciously engage in a practice of inner preparation—a practice that leads to self-knowledge and integration. This process of self-healing guides us in the use of our inner vessel—the cauldron or the grail—to catalyze the alchemy of the soul, bringing us to a place of greater understanding and unconditional acceptance of both the shadow and the sovereign aspects of the authentic self.
When we come to Avalon in this way, we can be relieved of our wounds. Like Arthur, we can take up the mantle of Sovereignty, and drink deeply of the vessel of regeneration that will heal the landscape—both within us and around us.
Sovereignty and the Land
In its most basic form, the concept of Sovereignty from an ancestral perspective is about acknowledgment of the interdependency of the people and the land. This may have developed as a consequence of the shift from a nomadic, hunter-gatherer economy to that of a more stationary, agrarian economy. Able now to set down roots in one place, people become connected to the land in a way they hadn’t been when they moved from place to place, following the migration of herd animals and knowing where and when to harvest plant foods. Our hunter-gatherer ancestors’ intimate connection with the cycles of sun, moon, and stars helped them survive by moving to the places where the resources, terrain, and weather would best support their needs.
The shift to full-time settlements taught our ancestors how to be in balanced partnership with the land they lived upon. Respecting the land and the resources it offered, rather than engaging in exploitative practices—such as exhausting the soil, befouling the waters, deforestation, and over-hunting—would support the continuing bounty of the land. Being out of balance with the land could lead to desperate times, desperate people, and desperate actions—bringing war and the Wasteland: famine, disease, and the suffering of people.
Tutelary goddesses—divinities connected specifically to a place—can be considered a resonance of animism, the idea of an indwelling divinity that permeates all things. A sacred marriage between a chief or king and the goddess of the land is a pact connecting the fate of the king with that of the land, making him responsible for the care and defense of the realm. This sacred bond is a sign of trust from energies of the land itself, investing the tested leader with its blessings and permission to serve as the husband (protector, lover, leader) and administrator of the land and all who dwell within its boundaries. What we may imagine as having begun as a true energetic bond and connection between the king and the land appears to have shifted over time to become more symbolic and metaphorical, likely due in no small part to the cultural shifts which accompany changes in technology, economy, and social structure.
Beliefs shift, and today the land is overwhelmingly looked at as a commodity to be exploited, not as a living and vital partner in need of consideration, respect, and honor. The place of women in society has also degraded, and ecofeminist theories have linked the status of women in society with environmental awareness and the nature of our cultural relationship with the Earth. When the planet is honored and respected, women are similarly treated; when the land is seen simply as a resource from which to profit, women’s lives and bodies experience the same treatment.
Whether literal or metaphorical, there is a connection between women and the land, and the degree to which culture at large is in balance with one is mirrored by its relationship with the other. It makes sense that we who are seeking Sovereignty do so by taking an accounting both of our inner and outer landscapes—the realms over which we preside.
Shadow Work
It is no simple task to begin the intentional exploration the shadow aspects of the unconscious Self; by its very nature it is a road that is paved with pain, on a pathway lain by fear, and which is typically marked by obstructions built to protect us from any further hurt or horror. Our shadow is not something we can cut off, ignore, or throw away; it is a part of who we are—a part in need of love, gentleness, and understanding. Our task instead is to learn to love ourselves completely; to be able to celebrate our achievements and also be compassionate with ourselves when we falter.
The nature of shadow is that it arises as an adaptation to help us survive traumatic experiences such as abusive childhoods, sexual assault, chronic bullying, frightening accidents, and the painful loss of loved ones. When we experience these life challenges, especially (but not exclusively) when we are young, our psyche unconsciously creates a kind of mental and emotional subroutine to help us remain as intact as possible throughout the trauma. If we look at the shadow as the survival mechanism it truly is—an internal support system we should bless, not a disability we should disavow—it truly changes how we can engage in shadow work.
The issue with shadow tendencies is not that they exist within us at all, for in our times of greatest need they served a critically important role and could be seen as, perhaps, our greatest ally in those times of intense vulnerability. Problems arise when the compensatory behaviors and perspectives the shadow gifted us with have outlived the situations which birthed them; this causes us to react to situations in our lives which feel similar to the old traumas as if they are the old traumas. This prevents us from seeing the truth of the present situation with clarity because the shadow subroutine has been triggered and we unconsciously react to the old wound rather than the present moment. And that is the key: when we are anchored in past traumas that prevent us from seeing the present with clarity, we react rather than respond.
Effective shadow work therefore has several essential components:
The Root: Identifying, where we can, the original cause of our woundings. This is the “why” of our shadow.
The Filters: Seeking the ways in which these wounds have tainted how we view ourselves, others, and the world. This is the “what” of our shadow.
The Reaction: Acknowledging both the situations which trigger us as well as the ways in which we act out when we are triggered. This is the “how” of our shadow.
The more conscious we are of these aspects of our shadow tendencies, the more we are able to see ourselves, others, and the situations of our lives for what they are, rather than interpreting these things through the filters of our past hurts and fears. Recognizing the patterns of behavior that arise from outmoded ways of being allows us to take responsibility for them, and this in turn empowers us to make choices when we are triggered. We can learn to respond consciously to the truth of the situation at hand, rather than to react unconsciously as if this were a past situation that caused us pain. However, before we can make this choice, we must first develop the discernment necessary to recognize our triggers for what they are.
It is the degree to which we are in relationship with our shadow that determines whether we react unconsciously to these challenges or we respond to them with clarity. This relationship is founded on how well we know ourselves, a skill that requires us to understand not only the nature of our shadow but also the extent of our Sovereignty.
Sovereignty and the Self
The overall focus of the Avalonian Tradition is to provide a paradigm of spiritual transformation through which we can come more fully into our personal Sovereignty; it is the loom upon which we can weave—and reweave—the whole and holy tapestry of our lives. We define Sovereignty as “fully conscious self-determination” that is, it is the state of loving, respecting, and knowing one’s self so well that the choices we make about who we are and how we choose to be in the world is informed only by our true will, and not by our fears, wounds, perceived limitations, and the expectations of others.
To be sovereign does not mean that we have achieved complete empowerment or spiritual enlightenment, nor that we have utterly conquered our shadow and dwell in some kind of balanced bliss of light and love. It means that we understand our flaws, recognize our self-destructive patterns, are conscious of our fears, have accepted the pain of our experiences, and honor where we are in our process of growth. Yet, even with all these shadow tendencies still present, we nonetheless elect to make choices that reflect our greatest good, are in support of achieving our highest potential, and fortify our deepest connection to Source. When we are sovereign, we act in the world rather than react to the world.
So where do we begin? How do we cease to perpetuate behaviors which are outdated adaptations to old wounds? How can we work to shift our consciousness and sharpen our Sight so that we are able make different choices? How can we work to create a life for ourselves which is in greater alignment with our Sovereignty?
Revisiting the Avalonian Cycle of Healing
The Avalonian Cycle of Healing is a foundational paradigm of practice in the modern Avalonian Tradition as practiced by the Sisterhood of Avalon; an in-depth immersion into this work is the focus of my book, Avalon Within. At its core, the cycle was inspired by a tale of one of the powerful cauldrons of transformation known to us from Celtic myth, the Cauldron of Wisdom and Inspiration owned by the goddess Ceridwen.
In her tale, which we will examine in great detail in Chapter 6, the goddess brews an herbal elixir which, when complete, will bring the gifts of wisdom and prophecy to whomever receives the three drops which emerge from the brew. Although intended for Ceridwen’s son Morfran, it is the servant-boy Gwion who steals the cauldron’s yield for himself. Ceridwen pursues him, and the pair embark upon a shape-shifting chase through the five elements, which sees the boy destroyed and reborn as one possessing great wisdom. It is this five-fold chase, long been believed to encode a Druidic initiation rite, as well as the five seeds of the star revealed in the cleaved apple of wisdom that gives Avalon her name, which inspired the Avalonian Cycle of Healing as a pathway of inner understanding and a vehicle for affecting deep and lasting change in our lives.
The fundamental premise of the Avalonian Cycle of Healing is to embrace our connection to the energies of cycle that are the prime mover of the universe in a quest to match our personal nature with Nature. Once we acknowledge that we are a part of the Universe and not apart from it, we can consciously come into alignment with the energies of the great cycle, whose repetitions are seen in the tiniest subatomic particles through to the great whirling galaxies that make up the known Universe and beyond. This expression of the Hermetic principle of correspondence—as above, so below; as within, so without—allows us to harness the macrocosmic/microcosmic paradigm of the universe and use it to empower our changes as we ally ourselves with the turning of the great wheel in all of its iterations.
The Avalonian Cycle of Healing teaches us to look at the progression of changes in the world around us in a practical way, giving us the tools we need to tap into the greater movement of the cycle and channel it so that it is the battery that powers our inner work. The work of the cycle, simply put, follows this general pattern: we enter into the depths of the unconscious to seek out negative life patterns at the Station of Descent; look into the mirror of our soul’s shadow at the Station of Confrontation to find the root of these energies; we bring the reclaimed energies from our hidden selves up into the light of consciousness at the Station of Emergence and redirect these energies to cultivate a harvest of self-actualization at the apex of the cycle that is the Station of Resolution. This spiritual harvest provides us with the resources needed to bolster our resolve from a place of increased clarity as the cycle turns down into the Station of Descent once more. The Station of Integration is the heart around which this perpetual cycle turns, while also existing in-between each of the other stations; indeed it is the totality of the cycle itself. Integration holds the energies of wholeness and unity and assists us in seeing the big picture of our soul growth and spiritual unfolding.
The Cycle of Healing informs our understanding and engagement with the holy days of the Celtic wheel of the year in the Avalonian Tradition. It mirrors what we know of the socioeconomic practices and religious traditions that our spiritual forebears engaged in as a result of their relationship to their land. While instead of a physical harvest we seek a psycho-spiritual harvest, the seasonal map we follow is roughly the same, as are the allies we seek to engage with along our journey.
Lunar Correspondences of the Cycle of Healing
Reflecting our transformational journey through the wheel of the year, the Cycle of Healing also reveals itself to us monthly through the silver wheel of the lunar dance. In much the same way we ride the wheel of the year, the cycle reveals itself to us monthly through the phases of the moon. Harnessing this energy every month is where the core of our inner work originates. We see the echoes of the greater cycle reverberating in the smaller one, pushing us through our day to day revelations, building up to the greater insights that come with the yearly cycle, culminating in the cycle of our lives when our time here is through. Indeed, even as we cycle around the incarnational wheel, the same energies move over and through us until we finally attain that ultimate wholeness—union with the Divine.
|
Station of Cycle |
Element |
Holy Day |
Moon Phase |
|
Descent |
Water |
Calan Gaeaf |
Third Quarter |
|
Confrontation |
Earth |
Gwyl Mair |
Dark Moon |
|
Emergence |
Air |
Calan Mai |
First Quarter |
|
Resolution |
Fire |
Gwyl Awst |
Full Moon |
|
Integration |
Spirit |
The Cycle |
Sovereign Moon |
The cycle of the year, the cycle of the moon, and the cycle of our lives all weave the same pattern of progression described by the Cycle of Healing and its Stations of Descent, Confrontation, Emergence, Resolution, and Integration. As we align ourselves to these natural rhythms, we will find that our work parallels the point of cycle we are in. As we begin the process at the third quarter moon or the Station of Descent, we enter into the dark half of the cycle, focusing upon what hinders us and prevents us from being all that we are. The work continues as we come to the dark moon, the Station of Confrontation. Here, the shadow is revealed at this darkest point of the cycle.
We take this hard-earned understanding of our pain, our unconscious motivation, back up into the light with us, to the Station of Emergence into the light half of the cycle, at the first quarter moon. Here, we now plant the seeds of Sovereignty, laying down a new pathway through which the energies reclaimed from the shadow can flow, in support of the vision of ourselves which better reflects the authentic truth of who we are. The Station of Resolution at the full moon sees the seeds come into fruition. Transformation has taken place, and the results of our spiritual alchemy brings us to a place where we are in better alignment with our sovereign selves. With these accomplishments in place, we peel the next layer off the onion, and our energies wane down toward the Station of Descent once more but with new insights and new tools at our disposal. Although the cycle repeats itself, and we move through its stations and phases again and again, we are not treading the same ground. For even as we turn, we are spiraling ever-upward, ever moving to a greater connection to our sovereign self, and to Source.
1. Philip Rahtz and Lorna Watts, Glastonbury: Myth and Archaeology (Stroud, UK: Tempus Publishing, 2003), 56.