So here I am, still sitting in my garden and listening. A couple of months ago, I felt inspired to listen 'downwards', to travel down along the roots that connect me to my land and see who I would meet.
I was greeted by a spirit who is familiar to me. I experience him as the spirit of this bit of land where I live: the tract of urban and suburban land that lies between Harrow on the Hill and the ridge to the north. This spirit is hard to describe. I sense that he is an ancestor who used to live here in the time that this place was an endless forest. Over time, he as become more estranged from humans and from the changes that have happened around him. He still lives in that ancient forest and has taken on the characteristics of a nature sprite. He is a gangly, puck-like creature who sits on tree branches and dances down the street.
This spirit came to me that day, covered head to toe in mud, in mud from this land. He seemed to be asking me to do the same, to learn about the spirit of the clay. Given that I live in a suburban street, my corner plot overlooked by many windows, I didn't fancy getting naked and rolling around in the mud. So I decided to learn about the clay in as many ways as I could. Here are my findings so far.
It was deposited here by the sea, during the Lower Eocene period 56-49 million years ago, when modern mammals first evolved. Around London, the layer of clay can be around 150 metres thick. Its edges are the Chiltern Hills to the North and the South Downs to the South. The clay stretches past Reading in the West and touches the sea in the East. It holds fertile agricultural land, forests and the great River Thames for much of its course. And it is strong enough to hold and contain the great city of London.
What the Tarot said
The spirit of the clay is the ancient Mother who takes and gives. Her gift is acceptance: she accepts and holds all that is done to her and built on her, yet still continues to give. You can strengthen your relationship with her by celebrating her fertility, alone or in community.
A ceremony of clay
Inside the sacred circle, I did a journey with the clay through the elements. I started in the centre, with Spirit. I held some soil from my garden and rooted down deeply. I felt the depth of the clay, her moistness. I felt her holding me.
For Fire, I visually examined my bowl of soil, finding little roots and stones and signs of invertebrate life. The clay smells of brown aliveness. In that crumbly moist state, it felt very soft to the touch. For Air, I sprinkled it around my circle. I felt strong protection holding every side of me. It felt so safe that I reached up to the sky and the light, like a sprouting seed, without fear. For water, I did make mud and smeared it all over my hands. I could feel it tingle and noticed its healing power. This clay soothes and settles things. For Earth, I lay down on the grass and let myself relax into the soil. I dissolved, but the clay held my bones. This is the ultimate rest and restoration.
Back in the centre of the circle, I journeyed down into the clay and met her spirit. She is a Willendorf-like Mother who constantly devours things and constantly gives birth. She showed me how she is fertilised by things that die, by the sun and the rain, and how she produces life from these things, constantly. She asked me to give back to her by feeding the garden.
Dancing with the clay
In my meditation this morning, I reached down and met the spirit of the clay. I let her fill my energy body - it felt strong and soft at the same time. The spirit of this place encouraged me to dance that feeling. I listened until I heard her song and danced.
It was a rhythmic dance with stamping feet and clapping hands. The dance spoke of the warm, damp earth that holds the fruits of the land and give it power to grow. I could feel the land holding the harvest and making love to the sky in whatever from it comes to her: wind, sun, moon and rain.
In the coming days I hope to dance with the clay again, to learn how to celebrate her fertility and feed my garden. I know there is much still to learn.