Elaine Knight | Contemplative Inquiry

LATE WINTER: REGENERATION

In the picture above, birch catkins are gaining strength. It is a bleak and cold early afternoon. The tree trunks sit in quiet latency. But new life is stirring all the same.

In the wheel of the year, winter is the season both of dying and regeneration. Late winter my be the coldest time of year, but the turn has been made and the days are already lengthening. Imbolc, which once marked the first lambing season of the year for our ancestors, is on its way.

Four years ago (1) I wrote a post in which I described the place of Birch (Beith) in the Irish Ogham alphabet, and its link with new beginnings and the need for careful preparation in any new endeavour. In Northern runic tradition Birch (Beorc, Berkana) is identified with the young Goddess, sexuality and birth, as well as beauty and creativity in general. At the time of writing I was working with a mandala of 16 trees in which Birch was my tree from 1-22 February. It continues to be an important tree in my life.

Now, my emphasis is different. I started by reflecting on a group of birch trees planted just outside our building. I can see them now out of a balcony widow. There are five in this space, somewhat sheltered between two buildings. They are the nearest thing to a grove in this urban setting. They are still young and have only recently reached the second floor level where we live. They seem vulnerable, shallow-rooted. When we have high winds, I expect them to blow down. They bend a long way. But they haven’t broken or fallen yet.

They are our neighbours. Elaine and I walk among them often. They are a good place for her when she re-learns walking after her accident and its complications. She first noticed the catkins and pointed them out to me weeks ago, when they were tiny. The picture above, which I took today, shows how much they have managed to grow in these apparently unpromising winter weeks.

(1) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2021/02/01/birch-new-beginning/

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November 22, 2024

DOORS OF PERCEPTION: SUN, SKY, SHADOW, SNOW

This post is about Hillfield Gardens (1,2) and the taste of psychic rejuvenation. Just being there, actively opening to the elemental energies of place and time, I felt confident, happy and strong.

The early morning of 20 November was misty and dark in a slushy, miserable kind of way; closed in and confining rather than magical and mysterious. Elaine and I catastrophised together in gloomy harmony about skies made unfriendly by perpetual drizzle and pavements made treacherous by hidden ice. The term stir crazy came up for me. We have begun to expect fresh air and activity outside the home. This time we planned to be in separate spaces. They are good in themselves and healthy for us as a partnership. So the tension of anticipated disappointment was in the air, for a long moment in a dull morning.

Then everything changed, with clear blue sky and sun. After an early lunch, I could wheel Elaine to her creative arts event and then fully stretch my legs in a walk to Hillfield Gardens. When I got there I slowed down again and shifted from a doing mode to a being mode. I became porous to the world – at once disappearing into it and expanding to embrace it. The snow on the ground looked beautiful to me and a crinkly fallen leaf both modified the picture and enhanced the look. William Blake once famously wrote: “if the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is, infinite” This brief eternal time (being in two worlds at once) – with the snow on the ground, and the fallen leaf – was like that, or at least something which pointed towards it. I feel tremendous gratitude for the experience. In its afterglow, I found myself feeling confident, happy and strong.

At a reduced level of intensity, I continued my walk. Below, My attention was drawn by a seat, and the snow around it, in a secluded corner of the gardens. Sun shone freely on the buildings, and the bushes, but reached only a small area on the seat.

In the most wooded and unmanicured section of the gardens, I found snow still present on a section of cleared space and pathway. Elsewhere there was no trace of it, even in this relatively shadowed space.

On the buildings below – blue sky, sun and shadow. In the picture below snow is just discernible on a rooftop and in a garden. During the period of my walk (1-1.30 pm) the gardens visibly changed. The snow was retreating and shadows continued to shift.

It wasn’t a long walk – twenty minutes each way for the sake of my legs and thirty in the garden. It was enough. I took away the psychic rejuvenation I named at the beginning of this post. The experience was both mystical and ordinary, a place where the ‘spiritual’ and ‘mundane’ are one – and big part of how I live my Druidry.

(1) SEE: https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2024/04/11/images-from-a-town-garden/

(2) NOTE: At the beginning of April 2024 I discovered Hillfield Gardens – a little outside the centre of Gloucester, yet still in easy walking distance (or an easy bus ride) from where I live. Originally the gardens of a large house, Hillfield Gardens are about 1.6 hectares in extent. They are managed by a Friends Group on behalf of Gloucestershire County Council. For me the gardens are a tranquil space, different in feeling-tone from other local parks.

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November 11, 2024

RE-ENCHANTMENT WHEN GROWING OLD

“Contrary to the current genetic determinism that sees increased longevity as a wasted aberrance created by civilisation, The Force of Character presents an explosive new thesis: the changes of old age, even the debilitating ones, have purposes and values ordained by the psyche. The older we become, the more our true natures emerge. Thus the final years have a very important purpose: the fulfilment and confirmation of character.” (1)

I have known and walked with James Hillman’s book for a number of years, but only recently have I felt it coming into its own in my life. Hillman, originally a pupil of Carl Jung, went on to found his own school of Archetypal Psychology – a psychology which remembers that ‘psyche’ first meant ‘soul’. He describes his own journey as about challenging what he sees as limiting beliefs that “clamp the mind and heart” (1) into positivistic science, bottom-line capitalism and religious fundamentalism.

I am growing old and experiencing frailties together with a beloved partner in the same position. What is happening in the depths of my psyche? I notice that I do not perceive a single entity here, but multiple aspects, including a dialogue between youth and age. Both have always been present. But their roles have changed. I now find myself seeking them out, engaging with them and listening to them.

How do I recognise re-enchantment in my everyday life? Simply being open and alert to experiences as they come. On the morning of 10 November there was blue sky for a limited period. We walked around our Greyfriars Estate (once the site of a Franciscan Priory). There was a good-natured Remembrance Parade close-by: a custom beginning in 1919 after Word War I, when people hoped they had been through the war to end all wars. I am not very military minded but I’m glad we have this occasion all the same. I’ve made it to 75. A lot of the people we think about at this time didn’t make to 20 and they shouldn’t be forgotten. Honour was being paid to the dead, and an intentional act like that always changes the space.

Elaine and I however were at some distance from the event so that she could practice her walking. Whilst I was looking at some young birch trees with vigour still in their end-of-autumn leaves, Elaine carried on walking on her own. She didn’t need me hovering around her. It was the first time she’d walked outside on her own since her accident in Gran Canaria six months ago. I had witnessed a wonderful emancipation and, more than that, a fulfilment and confirmation of character.

(1) James Hillman The Force of Character and the Lasting Life Milsons Point, NSW: Random House Australia, 1999. First quote from back of cover blurb, second from main text.

November 6, 2024

THE IMAGE AND THE SONG

“I am the Mabon. I am the child.

I am YR, the Golden Bough.

I am the dart that the yew lets fly

Three pure rays, the pillars of life.

I am the wren, the King of Birds.

I am the Bard and the teller of lies.

I am a song within the heart.

I am the light that will never die.

I am stars within the Void.

I am the eye of the Aeon.” (1)

For more than a decade, my spiritual practice has been mobilised around a contemplative inquiry. For me, this has been successful in its own terms, but I’m conscious now of something missing. It’s as if, for earnest, intelligent and ethical reasons, I have whitewashed the walls in the church of me. Now I want my murals back. So, recently I have started a course correction.

This course correction includes a glance back at my own pre-inquiry practices, happily well documented. The image of Modron and Mabon used to walk with me: Modron as the primal mother and Mabon as the primal child (2). They were archetypal figures, not everyday humans. My understanding was that these names were from a pre-Celtic language, retained in Brythonic speech. I am not sure if this is true, but for me it offered the possibility that even the surviving Celtic stories (3) were not the first. I was free to dream. In this dreaming I was powerfully influenced by the image at the top of this post (received as a midwinter holiday gift from my wife, then partner, Elaine, in 2007) and by the Silver on the Tree song that follows.

I see the child in the image as androgyne, and not in their earliest infancy. In the song, Mabon is not gendered. The mother in the picture is clearly the Goddess as Mother. Different stories can be drawn from this. In my own journey I tilt the child back somewhat to the masculine. In this pairing, She is Zoe, the life eternal. He is Bios, the life that comes and goes and comes again. Like Taliesin (4), transmuting out of his identity as Gwion, Mabon becomes in a sense his own father. So my midwinter picture appears to reference the Christmas story, but in important ways diverges from it. The image shows a magical midwinter child, who will indeed have an illuminating and transformational influence, but who is not exactly a redeemer in the Christian sense. This is drawn out in the Silver in the Tree song, which includes specifically Celtic references and extends beyond them.

Both Mother and Child live strongly within me, in the imaginal realm. I like and use the old language, Modron and Mabon, because of its sense of ancient mystery. But what it points to is universal. Part of my work now is to re-open my contact with them, who after another fashion I also am.

(1) Silver in the Tree in their 1991 album Eye of the Aeon

(2) NOTE: I am aware that there are divergent visions of Mabon. One centred the Autumn Equinox has become powerful and influential in recent years. Happily modern Druidry is not a religion of the Book though it is enriched by its books. This new literature follows the oral tradition practice of allowing stories to evolve and change in divergent directions. I see this as a strength.

(3) Caitlin Matthews Mabon and the Guardians of Celtic Britain: Hero Myths in the Mabinogion Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 2002 (Revised edition of Mabon and the Mysteries of Britain, 1987)

(4) If you visit Loch Maben in Dumfriesshire, in south west Scotland, you may find the feeling-tone similar to the much larger Lake Bala, strongly associated with Taliesin, in north Wales.

October 30, 2024

COUNTER CURRENTS IN A DECLINING YEAR

The November around me is grey and gloomy, though not especially cold. I notice this year that I am not entering the seasonal zeitgeist, not going with the flow of time as I normally do. Instead, I am marshalling my resources. I am pushing back. I am not all contemplative and I find myself more concerned with agency than with surrender to what is.

The Ace of Wands card in The Druidcraft Tarot (1) says, in the language of the mundus imaginalis (2): “Here the wand is offered to us from the heart of the sun – the source of creative fire, initiative and energy”. The card fell out of the pack when I believed I was looking for something else. I thought. ‘yes, I as an individual person am not dead. I am not ready to fade away into another realm or be dispersed into universe of interbeing. I’m here, now, home and not done yet. I have life, love and work yet to cherish and enjoy. I can still make things happen, should I so choose”.

I am inspired by my walks with my wife Elaine outside our flats as she relearns to walk with big new boots and a rollator. Such determination. The wand in the card is a birch wand, The wood is alive and leaves are falling from it. Elaine and I walk amongst at least two varieties of birch. One has finished shedding its leaves. The other hasn’t. For Druids, the birch is connected through the ogham alphabet with ideas of birth and new beginnings. Unseasonal or not, this is an energising place to be.

(1) Philip and Stephanie Carr-Gomm The Druidcraft Tarot: Use the Magic of Wicca and Druidry to Guide Your Life London: Connections, 2004 (Illustrated by Will Worthington)

(2) “Mundus Imaginalis or the Imaginal was a term coined by Henry Corbin, a friend and colleague of C. G. Jung. This concept captures the fundamental key to working with symbols and the creative imagination, allowing the psyche to move beyond the limiting constraints and one-sided attitude of the ego.” See; https://appliedjung.com/mundus-imaginalis/

(3) See; https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2021/02/01/birch-new-beginnings/

September 8, 2024

SWEET SUCCESS

The picture* shows Waterstones in Gloucester, not far from where Elaine and I live. It’s a well-stocked bookshop on two levels. The upstairs includes a cafe. Before Elaine’s hip fracture in April (1,2,3) and its attendant complications, we were frequent visitors. The cafe offers good coffee. It is a pleasant place to be. It hosts both a writers’ group and a book group that we have attended.

Waterstones has been out of bounds to Elaine, and effectively me, since April. Elaine was completely house-bound until the middle of August. Even then, we worried about whether her wheelchair would fit the door of the lift giving access to the upper floor. Would the formal ‘accessibility’ option lead to actual access? I measured the breadth both of Elaine’s wheelchair and the lift doorway. The distances were bothersomely similar, and this had a slightly inhibiting, effect. We didn’t want drama or disappointment.

But on Saturday, 8 September, we lost our hesitation. We wheeled boldly into the shop and put the lift to the test. Lining the chair up carefully, we ascended to the top floor. It was indeed a tight fit, but doable, which is what matters. We reached the cafe, and had our first coffee out together for a long time, happy in the familiar atmosphere of a favourite haunt, knowing too that we would be able to attend its meetings and events. A sweet success!

(1) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2024/06/27/elaine-knight-haiku/

(2) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2024/05/25/festive-moment/

(3) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2024/05/12/unsought-journey/

*Picture from Google Maps.

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June 27, 2024

ELAINE KNIGHT: HAIKU

Tick Tock sounds the clock

Marking the passage of Time

As does the silence.

It is a calendar month since Elaine came home from the Gloucester Royal hospital, after her hip fracture in Gran Canaria on 11 April (1). She is slowly recovering, but still housebound.

Two days before her accident I attended a meeting that signed off on a collection of poetry by local writers (2) to which we had both contributed. Elaine’s haiku below is part of that collection.

(1)See: https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2024/05/12/unsought-journey/ and https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2024/06/03/inside-looking-out/ (para 3)

(2) Random Writings by the Wrandom Writers Wroclaw, Poland: Amazon Fulfillment, 2024 (Editorial Copyright J.D. Warner; individual poems copyrighted by the authors).

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June 3, 2024

INSIDE LOOKING OUT

I spend time inside looking out. The sky changes a lot. Its shifts are rapid and dramatic. The trees change too, but over longer periods of time. The high levels of rain this year have encouraged an exceptional verdancy and abundance. Looking out, I can almost forget that I am in a block of newish flats in an old urban area. The person walking on the pavement below seems dwarfed by the splendour of the leaves. The road is very quiet for a late morning. The wheel of the year turns, approaching its summer zenith in this part of the world.

I am settling in to a higher number for my official age. In social gerontology, there are (or have been) three kinds of ‘old’: young-old (50-64), middle-old (65-74) and old-old (75+). I am now old-old and statistically immune from premature death. These classifications don’t quite fit my lived experience, but they are a sort of landmark all the same.

Elaine and I have been together for nine days following her repatriation and subsequent stay in a local hospital. We are learning how to live a new phase of our relationship where she has high needs and is housebound, and I am in a ‘caring’ role in the institutional sense of that term. We are learning as we go along and doing our best to be conscious about our experience as well as practical in an ‘activities of daily living’ sense. I think we are doing OK. We are establishing new patterns of day to day life and Elaine’s capacity is increasing.

Mostly I leave the flat only for shopping and other practical tasks and, because we are so well situated, these don’t take long. On Saturday Elaine and I both felt comfortable and confident with me going out on a one hour recreational walk. I continue with a regular practice and journaling. I still practice within a Druid circle (grove) and I find this healing and re-energising. At the same time my work has been referenced more to five personal commitments rather than to tribal membership, religious devotion or spiritual metaphysics. Recently I have been contemplating my commitments and checking out whether they still work for me. These are:

1. I will work from the stillness of the centre.

2. I will cultivate good will towards self, others, and the wider web of being.

3. I will cultivate positive health and well-being, within whatever constraints may apply.

4. I will cultivate discernment, creativity and wisdom, to the best of my understanding and capacity.

5. I will cultivate a life of abundance in simplicity, living lightly on the earth.

I do see a danger in lists like these: they can become a frozen and pious – an internal rhetorical performance. For me, contemplative inquiry keeps my commitments alive, suggesting revisions if necessary. This is my direction, going forward, in the unfolding chapter of my life.

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May 25, 2024

FESTIVE MOMENT

On 12 May I wrote: “I hope soon to get some sense of how soon Elaine will come home, and what resources we will need for our lives going forward. It’s my 75th birthday on 25 May, and my best present would be to have Elaine home by then.” (1) Today is 25 May, and my wife Elaine is indeed coming home from the Gloucester Royal hospital. It has felt like a long absence for both of us and we are glad to move into a new chapter of our lives.

Yesterday evening I went Alney Island, a Gloucester wetland, for a brief contemplative walk. The footbridge near Gloucester docks has been repaired and after many months the island is easy to reach again. Back on the island, I loved its sense of growth and abundance in the summer evening light. I felt care-free. I had almost forgotten how much experiences like this nourish me.

This is a festive moment in my life: a significant birthday, Elaine’s return, celebrating a moment in the year that makes me glad to be alive. I feel refreshed, heartened and re-energised.

(1) https://contemplativeinquiry.blog/2024/05/12/unsought-journey/

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May 12, 2024

UNSOUGHT JOURNEY

Ego sets me up, in both a narcissistic and rational way, to be the hero of my own journey. But it’s at least equally valuable to have a support role in someone else’s. On Monday 8 April my wife Elaine flew to Gran Canaria with her sister Glynis for a restful and undemanding holiday. It worked brilliantly for nearly three days. On Thursday 11 April Elaine had a fall resulting in a fractured femur. Instead of a restful and undemanding holiday, they were in a health disaster overseas.

Elaine was duly admitted to hospital. Other health complications – a characteristic of we older people – meant it took 9 days for Elaine to have a successful operation: not ideal given the problem being addressed. Glynis was the support person and champion at this stage. But soon it became evident that Elaine would not be well enough for repatriation for some time. An original plan for me to be the person who organised things at home was ditched, and I flew to Gran Canaria on 28 April allowing Glynis to go home.

In a way it wasn’t hard. But I was knocked around by Elaine’s predicament, which might have been fatal, and by the culture shock of being in a new place where, but for the kindness of strangers, I had the verbal and communication skills of, at best, a chimpanzee. I also had to be, or at least appear to be, competent in managing (influencing?) the hospital and insurance companies’ relationship both with Elaine and each other. A completely unfamiliar situation for me, and not one that I would want to be in again.

We managed somehow. Elaine and I know and love each other. We supported each other in our respective roles. I liked my hotel though its amenities were largely wasted on me. Its great virtue was in being 15 minutes easy walking distance from the hospital. I spent several hours a day with Elaine, but also had several on my own. I needed to be away from stimulation for a good deal of time. I did enjoy the warmth, and especially at sundown, the sky over Gran Canaria’s south coast.

The repatriation, when it came, felt almost sudden. We flew back, together with a wonderful paramedic and minder sent over for the purpose, on Friday 10 May. Elaine, whose left leg is not weight bearing at all, was trolleyed and chaired both on an off a commercial flight where she got her own row of three seats. The cabin crew were great.

The repatriation process ended with an ambulance journey to the Gloucester Royal hospital, where our paramedic had organised Elaine’s admission in advance and Elaine was wheeled straight onto the orthopaedic ward where she now is. This is also in walking distance from our home. At the moment she is largely being monitored and tested. A new phase will begin when the physiotherapists show up on Monday. I hope soon to get some sense of how soon Elaine will come home, and what resources we will need for our lives going forward. It’s my 75th birthday on 25 May, and my best present would be to have Elaine home by then.

This post has been a simple story, without much obviously contemplative, reflective or overtly ‘spiritual’ content. But I don’t in my own life and practice make much distinction between the spiritual and mundane, and I do know that this has been a life-changing event. A pilgrimage, of sorts.

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January 18, 2025