The Daily Journal has a fascinating article that illustrates the shrinking radius we give our children to explore over the years by looking at the childhoods of four members of a British family. Great Grandfather was allowed to roam some six miles away from home to go fishing at the age of eight. Grandfather had about a mile radius of freedom, Mother about half a mile, and the now eight-year-old-child can only wander to the end of his block.

In what I consider a ringing endorsement of “druidic values,” psychologists are concerned about the mental health of the current and future generations due to lack of exposure to the natural world.

The report’s author, Dr William Bird, the health adviser to Natural England and the organiser of a conference on nature and health on Monday, believes children’s long-term mental health is at risk.

He has compiled evidence that people are healthier and better adjusted if they get out into the countryside, parks or gardens.

Stress levels fall within minutes of seeing green spaces, he says. Even filling a home with flowers and plants can improve concentration and lower stress.

“If children haven’t had contact with nature, they never develop a relationship with natural environment and they are unable to use it to cope with stress,” he said.

“Studies have shown that people deprived of contact with nature were at greater risk of depression and anxiety. Children are getting less and less unsupervised time in the natural environment.

“They need time playing in the countryside, in parks and in gardens where they can explore, dig up the ground and build dens.”

A new reader recently graced us with her clickage: Ali, a Christian (or Christo-Pagan?) Druid who writes the blog Meadowsweet & Myrrh. She is a skilled writer, a thinker I can respect, and she has honored me with a link from her blog, which I am reciprocating.

Her recent article about why she identifies as a druid is exactly how I feel about it. I especially appreciated her take on depth of commitment to one path:

I have always been reluctant to jump from one spiritual path to another–to become a “window-shopper” of religions or to approach religions with a buffet-style pick-and-choose attitude. I believe that spiritual traditions have an integrity and internal consistency of their own, and that it is often more fruitful to explore a single tradition deeply, than to abandon any belief or practice that seems, on the surface, to be difficult or unappealing.

I have said some less-than-gentle things about modern pagans who seem to treat their faith like fashion accessories. If I were to put it more politely, this is close to what I would have said. Also, her take on the distinction between the Wicca and Druid archetypes is dead on:

One difference that I realized has always been important to me is how I consider myself in relation to the rest of society. The history–both the literal history and the idealized tradition–of Druidry is based on the idea that the Druids were not only priests, but the scholars, judges, advisers, poets and historians of their societies. They were integral to the healthy functioning of their community, and their wisdom was respected, celebrated and utilized openly. On the other hand, the dominant narrative about historical identity for most modern Witches and Wiccans is the story of the Witch Trials. Although we now know that many women who were killed were in no way associated with witchcraft, there is still the general idea at the heart of many witchcraft traditions that wisdom and power–especially that of women–is feared and rejected by society, that this is “just how it is” because society “can’t handle it.” The identity archetype of the “witch” remains the young seductress or old wise-woman living on the outskirts of the village, ostracized and misunderstood even when the community does covertly desire her or utilize her wisdom and influence.

So, welcome aboard, Ali. I look forward to reading more of your work in the future and hearing your comments about mine.

Erynn Rowan Laurie, an elder of Celtic Reconstructionism and collaborator on the Celtic Reconstructionist FAQ project, has recently made available a PDF file, giving the beginner an excellent introduction to the Ogam and her valuable insight into it. This PDF will be the core of her upcoming book on the subject to be published by Megalithica Press.Though reading several books on the Ogam, I never felt them to be very accessible to me. Laurie’s fresh perspective and insight has unlocked the door and I’m studying this fascinating alphabet with renewed interest.

Although easy to read, Laurie’s scholarship is rigorous for such a brief treatment of the subject. She clearly explains her sources and differentiates them from her personal insights.

After some introductory notes explaining briefly the history of the Ogam and her approach to them, Each Ogam is given one page. The descriptions start with the traditional associations, and then Laurie gives us a few paragraphs of her personal insight, which I have found very edifying. A later section briefly discusses divination methods and other practical uses.

In short, Laurie’s work provides an excellent springboard for a beginner (like me) and I look forward to her completed book on the subject.

Hat tip to Brenda.

In a thread on Ex-Witch, the conversation turned to sitting outside and listening to the divine. The thread started out as my venting my frustrations in a vein similar to my article below.

I was asked what I hear. I was surprised, I think, because I never had been asked that and never tried to put it all in to words.

I hear a lot of things, I think. “Feel” is a better word, but I have had actual conversations with spirits, also. Part of me cringes at saying that — the “rational and logical” part. But even it cannot deny the evidence presented to me that it was more than just “in my head.” It just rebels at something that sounds so “crazy.”

I spent 20 years as a Zen Buddhist. I always sat indoors for meditation, facing a wall. As a druid, now, I try to meditate outside as much as possible. Outside, the skills I developed through Zen come in to play, but take on a whole new dynamic. Zen teaches to listen, but the walls of the temple block the sound. The real sound is outside, under the sky.

It is a symbiotic thing. A give and take. It’s a symphony, and I am floating with the music. It’s almost as if I am co-operating with nature in meditation. It’s feeling the relationship, what we share with nature, which can only be felt when the mind is quiet, still, and listening.

Spanish moss hangs from nearly every tree where I live. In researching various primitive technologies, it cured to me that Spanish moss must have a bunch of uses. It does. I knew about its use as furniture stuffing, but just how good a stuffing it is really surprised me.

I found this nifty article: The Story of Spanish Moss, which told me many of the things I wanted to know. One sentence in particular got me very excited: “No known insect will attack moss fiber, eat, destroy or live within it. Moss ranks next to curled hair in resiliency. That is why it is desirable for use in upholstery.” Wow. Concerning sleeping outdoors, would a bed of Spanish moss on the ground keep ground insects away? Would a screen of moss over a hut entrance keep out mosquitoes? The possibilities are very intriguing.

I also read about Natives in Florida who wore clothes made out of the moss’ fibers. Would that also work in keeping the bugs off? If you haven’t guessed, finding natural, primitive ways of keeping the mosquitoes at bay is something of a concern to me. If you lived in South Louisiana, you’d surely understand why. It seems that if the Native Americans who lived here before we came had a solution, then we should be able to figure it out.