In my constant quest for new bushcraft information, I recently came across the website of Eric Stoskopf, the Woodsdrummer. His outdoor philosophy and methods resonate with me: he prefers old fashioned, even privative equipment that can take lots of abuse. He is about function over form. For example, he uses a body bag as part of his sleeping system. In fact, a discussion about using body bags that way is how I found out about him. Apparently, body bags are very warm, lightweight, and robust. The downside seems to be that they don’t “breathe,” and so perspiration can be a problem.

But, I think what makes me a fan of his is the subtle sense of spirituality that pervades his posts. When moved by the feeling of being in a natural sacred place, he feels an impulse to make offerings to the local spirits. He is ambivalent about doing this, as he is “wary of putting on facades of nativeness,” but this impulse was shared by our European ancestors as well. I hope to have a conversation with him about this sometime soon.

I was also touched that he came to my home area, New Orleans, to help rescue animals after Katrina. The log of the trip was very moving. Reading it is what impelled me to write a post, and track Woodsdrummer’s “digital footprints.”

Woodsdrummer is a an advocate of Ron Hood’s survival methods, and from reading Woodsdrummer’s outdoor exploits, I plan to get my hands on some of Hood’s video’s ASAP. Hood also provides a very active forum, which is providing me hours of distraction from work.

My discussion with a Christian about ancestor worship led to him asking a very thought-provoking question: “Do you think that you, yourself, are worthy of being worshipped? That if you had kids and/or grandchildren that they should worship you?”  At first, I just smiled and shook my head, because I could see immediately where the disconnect we were having was: as a Christian, he has a very different concept of “worship” than we do.  But, as I thought about the question, I had a reaction I doubt he was expecting: I was moved to tears at the beauty of it.

I had never really thought before about the fact that we would be part of the ancestors that are honored just as we honor them now.  The thought that we might still be able to watch out for our children and our children’s children, and guide them, and that they would remember us, honor us, and turn to us when they have problems is very touching.  I described this to my wife, and she was misty-eyed, too.  Driving our son home from school, I told him that I loved him, and that I would always love him, even after I’m gone.  Yes, it was a very moving thought, indeed.

We do worship our ancestors, but I not in the same sense that Christians worship.  We relate to our dead relatives pretty much the same way we do to our live ones: with respect and familial love.  My grandmother is ninety years old.  We go out of our way to visit her, spend time with her, and honor her as the matriarch of my family.  We relate to our Gods the same way, too.  We invite them into our lives, praise and honor them, offer them gifts of gratitude and caring, and seek their advice and wisdom and assistance. I can think of no nobler way to live.

I was recently asked about ancestor worship in a forum I frequent.  Yes, I think it’s fair to say that I worship my ancestors.  As a modern part of the Gaelic diaspora, my ancestors were kings, heroes of legend, even gods.  Their blood flows through my veins.  Yes, I honor them greatly and pray to them frequently.

The Celts had an understanding of three types of spirits: Gods, ancestors, and nature spirits.  The thing is, these are not three very distinct categories, and the line, if there is one, between Gods and ancestors is very unclear.  Celts consider themselves direct descendants of the Gods and clans would trace their lineage to one or more of the deities.  So, Gods are really very ancient, very powerful ancestral spirits.  Also, there is some intermarriage between “nature spirits” and gods and humans, so even that distinction is not a very sharp one.

We worship our ancestors (and Gods) because, among other reasons, we owe them our very existence.  As I see it, countless people have lived, struggled, and died just so that I could be born and live today.  And I struggle and work to protect, nurture, and teach my child so that he grows up to be a good man and the line continues on.  As my favorite wisdom triad says, there are three to whom our debt can never be repaid: a good teacher, our parents, and the gods.  That sense of obligation and reciprocal duty drives much of my understanding of Celtic spirituality.

So, I honor my ancestors by inviting them to my rituals, making offerings to them, remembering them as best I can, and passing on that memory to my child.  At Samhain (Halloween), for example, we sat down and drew a family tree, telling stories of the ancestors we knew of who died in our lives before our son was born.  We wrote letters to them and sent the letters to them in our ritual fire.  It was a beautiful thing.  I also try to honor them by living a virtuous life, but that’s a whole other story.

In return, they have helped me tremendously.  I can’t tell you the number of times that something happened in which we are sure some guardian spirits are watching over us.  Our legal practice, for example, has been struggling, but every time things look bad, something happens, some “lucky coincidence” happens, to pull us through.  There may be fantastic luck once or twice, but when it happens with such seeming regularity, we cannot help but feel that our Gods and ancestors are looking out for us.

…which reminds me, I need to work on a ritual to thank them for the blessings we have had just recently…

An Chuallacht Ghaol Naofa (Fellowship of Sacred Kinship) recently opened their virtual doors to the online community. As it is a very rare thing that I visit Beliefnet’s CR community, where I found their posting, I can’t help but feel the spirits have led me there. Although my information on them is scant, I have yet to see any indication that they are not exactly the kind of group I have long been waiting for.

I currently belong to several “druidic” organizations, most of which I have posted about at some time or other. None of them have the combination of “features” I find in CGN. (Yes, part of me is sad that one basically has to “shop” for religion much as buying a new car. Something seems fundamentally wrong with that, but it is what it is.)

CGN is a Celtic reconstructionist group focused, as I am, on the ways of the ancient Irish. They are “dedicated to the practice and promotion of a modern, viable religious tradition rooted in pre-Christian polytheistic Gaelic spirituality.”

Their mission statement, and brief statement of belief is one I fully endorse. An important point, since it is the first religious organization I have found that I can really say that of. In fact, I have scoured their site for what information I could find about them and not only did I not find anything off-putting, but their approach to the “reconstructionist/traditionalist” divide is quite promising. I have long considered myself to be somewhere in between the two approaches and I thought I was about alone in that preference. Apparently, I am not, and I feel much uplifted by that discovery.

So, I look forward to learning more about this community and organization, and if it is everything it seems to be, I will be quite involved with them.

A Celtic Wisdom triad names three fears that weaken our hearts: fear of speaking the truth, fear of wretched poverty, and fear of evil being done us.

I was pondering what to do in my local community and when I read these words, they seemed a message from the gods. These are exactly the three fears that have kept me fairly “in the closet” with my faith. I have been afraid of what would happen if I “spoke the truth” openly and freely about my faith. I have been afraid of business for our small law practice drying up, people slashing our tires and egging our house, picking on my young son at school.

Those are the things I fear by coming out. But, living with those fears has its own price, too. I know what the triad means by “weakening the heart.” I feel it.

So, I intend to move forward with my plans to make Cypress Nemeton a real place and a real presence in the community. That will be a long time coming, but it will happen. Some day, maybe soon, all of this will attract the attention of someone — the local media, the local church, who knows. It will happen. And I will not be afraid.