Past and Future Ghosts - the Well Inside Glasgow Cathedral

My old habit is to work work work but times are changing and so am I. This is an important part of creating - to be still and listen to the ghosts of the future too. Even though the inspiration for my work is deeply entwined in the stories of the past, it’s the future where they will show their faces and live. There’s a reason why we have to trust intuition to guide art - usually artists are like surfers - riding the wave of what’s to come before it has crashed on the shore of the present.

For this reason, even though it can feel confusing & daunting. Perhaps not many people get what you’re doing or why but we have to trust those weird hunches when making art. Even when I don’t know the end of the road, the ghosts of the past and future do.

A great way to track messages from future ghosts is to keep journals and also to create collages. Each year I create a collage for the year to come and I call them living tarot cards. When I made the one above, it was in 2022 but for some reason I had a hard time connecting and understanding it. I knew I was making it about the next pilgrimage to Scotland and Ireland but I just kept feeling that something wasn’t right.

I make these collages very quickly and I was confused about the placement of large moth at the bottom of the image, I took the moth out and then put it back. It all seemed silent - it wasn’t talking to me.

I sat the living tarot card aside & forgot about it.

When I look at this future ghost now, 3 years after creating it and 18 months after making the physical pilgrimage in 2023, I’m stunned to see how many symbols and messages it was giving me all along. The pilgrimage in 2023 was definitely a shadow journey and in the middle of it I became extremely ill. On this journey I was shown that I cannot do my work if I don’t care for my body properly. I remember at one stage on the journey lugging my enormous bag of cameras, recording equipment and STUFF (so much stuff) and feeling as though I was lugging around a dead body.

And in a sense, I was lugging around my old self and fears about control - believing that I had to carry everything I thought I needed to do my work well. And attached to me at all times. Unfortunately I had contracted a lung infection on the flight and unchecked this travelled down into my kidneys. Before it advanced into a stage of being unable to eat & developed into fever & fever dreams, (of huge black and red moths winding silk threads around me - just like the threads around the woman in the collage and just like the moth at the bottom of the card) I made a journey to a church where things got really weird…

Even though I’d lived in Glasgow for years in the 1990s, I’d never been inside the Glasgow Cathedral. This pilgrimage kept taking me to the story of St Mungo the patron saint of Glasgow and I was particularly interested in the story of his mother Thenue who had been cast out of her home and village as a witch. I love stained glass and historic architecture and this cathedral was the resting place of St Mungo held in the lower crypt of the church.

Glasgow Cathedral is the oldest surviving church in Scotland but it wasn’t on my list to visit at all. And yet, here I was. When I stepped inside it, the energy was very odd. I soon realised it was a church on top of a church on top of a church. The original building that had been set up by Mungo was built over in 6th century and then finally the huge cathedral that we see now was begun in the 13th century. It is one of only 2 cathedrals that survived the reformation in Scotland - the miracle is that it is still standing at all.

As I made my way down deeper and deeper into crypt where Mungo is held I began to feel so weak I could hardly walk ( I still hadn’t worked out just how sick I was - ignoring all the signs). I noticed a strange feature in the far corner of the crypt and realised it was a well. I later found out that this holy well was the site of huge medieval pilgrimages and it was the well that drew Mungo to this place - they had built the cathedral around the well.

I then climbed stairs to the entrance of what is called Blackadder’s Aisle and on the threshold of stepping into this strange white room, I realised I couldn’t lift my feet. I could not walk a step further. I pretended to be fiddling with my camera as I was frozen in place on the stairs and people had to step around me, I was so freaked out I couldn’t work out what was happening. I looked up at the ceiling inside Blackadder’s Aisle and this is the face that looked down at me from the ancient beams.

I found I could move my legs again and slowly slowly made my way out of the cathedral. Out on the street, within minutes I could stand up straight and walk normally again.

When I got home from this pilgrimage I did the research and found that St Mungo’s shrine and well was the centre of pilgrimage in medieval Glasgow - my own ancestors who lived around Glasgow would have absolutely made this pilgrimage in their time. As I was writing this newsletter I began to research the significance of the Blackadder’s Aisle and why it had felt so completely different to the rest of the cathedral and found out that it had been built over an ancient graveyard linked to Mungo’s pilgrimage site at the well.

Whose feet had walked those same steps? Had I stepped into a memory held in the stones, the ghost of a pilgrim who had come seeking a cure for their crippled legs or illness? Had I met my own ancestor?

I will never know and I will never forget it. This pilgrimage as difficult as it was, helped me to create a completely new relationship to my body and health and I returned home to give up sugar completely and heal inflammation in my body. This shadow pilgrimage gave me a new life.

Swan Story :: My Familiar Stranger

Andvari by Franz Strassen

Thank you Julia, I have experienced so much healing from releasing this vow. I also feel that part of my soul experience has now become open to me within this life. You have shared a truly amazing gift, the gift of remembering who we are and all we can be, Kelly.

We are all made of stories and it is fascinating for me to sit with people as they remember ancient stories that feel like they happened only yesterday. After her Swan Ancestral Journey with me, Kelly sent me her Swan Story of retrieving the gift of her own ancestral wisdom from a ‘familiar stranger’.

“She came to me my familiar stranger and shared with me her emotions and memories. Her feelings reflected my own. The heavy ones that had lived so deeply within me for as long I could remember. I had taken them to be mine. I had taken them to be of this life, but they where not. They were the blonde haired girl's all along, and she was I. But that life has gone. She had lost her freedom to be herself when all her love was taken from her. This blonde haired girl had lived on the land amongst the natural people. These folk lived in small homes with lavish gardens and roaming wild life. Most of her days were spent running with the deer.

When I first encountered her she was outside with the women from the house chanting and sharing stories. I was drawn to her immediately. The youngest of the group, no more thirteen years. The wide-eyed, golden haired girl soaking up the lesson being offered by the wise women - with an awe of excitement.  This place was special, the Faerie played there. Together they worshipped the land healing plant, animal, and human alike.   People travelled far to see the natural people and be healed from both mental and physical ailments. No payment was exchanged. The risk of travel was enough and to arrive by the cover of night was they only request of the healers.

One night in a blink of an eye the blonde haired girl's life was turned to ash. By the men in black who travel the countryside, defusing the light in people’s hearts. On this night only one survived. The young girl was taken by the men and placed in a cold blue-stoned cell and robed in black. They tried to force her to use her abilities to heal their wounded men. Though she refused with conviction. As she laid in the darkness she bound her light and shielded her love, she would not share the magic of the land with those who were only out to destroy it.

Her magic was strong and her internal binding became physical. She herself was bound in rope by the men in black and left in the darkness - left to fade. Her sadness was deep, her conviction was strong and her intentions where true and clear. I could feel it. I had felt it before. I'd felt the bound girl inside, often a dull aching I could not quite place.  While connecting to this feeling I was transported to my sacred space. The space that I enter upon meditation and out of the water she emerged, that I of the past. She was now free I had become the one bound. Our eyes met, two of the same, she untied me from the rope she had once been bound in, and then she smiled.

And with that smile she whispered –

‘Thank you for coming back for me., now we are both free and in your world you don’t have to hide, you can dance under the moonlight without fear, you can use your magic, release our light and show others the way to theirs. Always remember the Faerie as they are still with you’. 

Kelly

Swan Story :: Retrieval of the Dreamer by Lucy Pierce

Soulskin by Lucy Pierce

I love working with artists. It’s always special when you get to journey with someone whose art you admire. This painting, Soulskin by Lucy Pierce lives in my home. Years ago, when I lived in the forest, Lucy visited me to do a pathworking session together in a Swan Ancestral Journey. After her journey, Lucy wrote her recollection of this experience of finding the missing pieces in the form of a poem.

Retrieval

Like an unsung song I have always known,

I have experienced myself to be riddled

with incomplete spaces

and unlived places within.

As though essential clues were still buried,

deep inside the body,

indecipherable codes and locks and holds,

camouflaged and obscure,

deflecting light and attention and love.

And now like an awakened crusade,

I have mounted my stead and bare-breasted I ride,

powerful and fierce and exquisitely soft inside,

into the darkness of my history,

back through the gateways

of my deaths and my births,

eyes piercing the shadows,

anchored within the womb,

my vigilant sentry,

ancient seer, awakened.

The rhythmic stride of my mount unrelenting,

senses strained to their full,

I am retrieving myself piece by piece,

unbinding the vows of my past,

reclaiming the power held captive

beyond the reach of my memory.

I am calling her home to me

She who carries her medicine,

She who hungers to be seen,

She who knows the heart-seed of her purpose,

the unfolding mystery of being home

in the throne-room of her soul.

From between the plump, sticky folds of my motherhood,

my Huntress awakens,

sleek and honed

and dark as the night.

She is retrieving the Dreamer

to the heart of life,

searching for She who sees the vision

and holds within her,

clear and true and easefull

the capacity to respond.

The heavy compass of authority

swinging from the outer to within.

It is time and there is no other path

but this focused reclamation of myself ,

of my vision, my purpose,

my dream, my response,

my authority,

my love.

Lucy Pierce

Swan Story :: Releasing the Vow to Hide

Illustration: The Princess and the Trolls by John Bauer

Today I would like to share Robyn's recollection of her Swan Ancestral Journey, a story of the Vow to Hide - to not let anyone know who she truly was. This fear of persecution can be one of the strongest ties that bind us and stop us from expressing our creativity and intuition. I hope that in the telling of Robyn's own story, it helps anyone who is also feeling this same fear. I hope it helps you to feel that you are not alone and that it is safe to come out of the shadows to live fully.

“As I looked into the well I became a seven year old girl with long sandy brown hair in braids. All around was forest. Beautiful majestic trees that were as high as the sky. I  was met by a woman, but could only see her curly, dark auburn red hair.  She was wearing an emerald green cloak made of raw silk. It was stunning and shiny.  I couldn't see her face through the shadow of the hood.  I felt we were mother and child. She beckoned me to follow her and seemed very excited to show me something. We were skipping and running with such excitement and freedom through the forest.

We came to a clearing in the trees where there were some people in a circle surrounding a fire. They were pagans, all holding hands chanting blessings to the earth. I could see their shapes in white with no defining marks. We joined the circle and began to become one with earth and all the people. We prayed for healing of the world, for peace, for the sick, for all in need. We were healers in an age where this belief could have you branded and killed as a witch.

Suddenly there were screams and men attacking us with sticks, breaking up the circle and beating anyone they could catch. As we fled into the forest they grabbed my mother. They pulled us apart, our arms stretched out for one last chance of touch. I  watched as my mother was carried away screaming and kicking holding her arms out to me. I was crying out for her with no hope.  I had to hide until it was safe to emerge. As I looked up, a hand reached out for me. It was a man who had come to help. He took me to a secret place where we were allowed to be free and safe. We all lived together in harmony with nature and continued to heal. They taught me the ways of nature and how to use the powers that I possessed.

I grew into a tall, stunning looking woman that walked tall and proud hiding my deep secrets. I  was a healer with such powers that I could heal with a single smile or glance. I had my secret kept deep within, not sharing through fear of being killed.  I healed from afar. I was living in a Scandinavian town on the edge of the forest. Nobody knew who I was, but I had respect.

When it was time to see my binding I felt a huge rope coil around my entire body much like a snake would strangle their prey. I was bound with this rope with a giant knot in my mouth. The knot represented how I swore to never discuss my secret within. Never to let anyone know I am a healer.  Then my mother was reunited with me to show me I was safe. As she put out her arms for me, a feeling of love and peace shot through my entire body. Then my ropes were cut and they fell to the ground. The young girl was free to talk her truth. No more silence, no more fear, I too am free.

After my blessing the Swan circled above with the sun behind her. She came low enough to pick me up and carry me away.  I embraced her with gratitude for allowing me to take this journey. I felt safe with her as she flew through the perfect sky, then spiraled down and around to land in the paddock of my home. A home I can now appreciate and feel settled and safe in from this day forward.

I believe more and more in past lives and at times have had some amazing things happen to convince me even more again. For a while now I had the feeling that my beliefs and abilities should be kept secret, as judgements and criticisms I have had to face from opening my heart to people have felt so unfair. I am not cuckoo or going to hell, I am an amazing being with a lot to share. Life is good!

Robyn

Swan Story :: The Net Mender and Perfectionism

Newhaven Fisherman - reproduced with acknowledgement Edinburgh Museum

Recently I held a Swan Ancestral Session for a young man living in Iceland. He was born in another land and was brought up speaking English. Even though he had lived in Iceland for a long time and had learnt the language well, when it came time to express himself, especially when he was emotional, he found he could not speak fluently. And yet, when he dreamt, he dreamt in Icelandic and spoke it perfectly. He told me he was drawn strongly to Iceland, that he had to uproot his whole life and world to move there and yet he was facing these issues of being stuck in his expression there. When he got emotional he could not speak.

When we journeyed together he saw himself as a man mending nets. He was very skilled in his craft. His grandmother had taught him how to do this when he was a small boy. When his little hands couldn’t mend the nets well, his grandmother asked him to look into the water and see that ‘all nets mattered’ because even though it wasn’t perfect and he’d left big spaces in the net, the net still worked - small fish swam out of it but the bigger fish were held inside of it.

When the boy grew into a man, he was very respected in his village for his strong and well-made nets. He was relied upon and valued in his community. But with this responsibility, he became more rigid in his thinking and began to create a new belief that every net had to be perfect and that ‘every detail matters’.

Unfortunately the challenge in his life came when his wife passed away in childbirth. This moment fractured the man. He became obsessed with the detail that he’d missed. The one detail that he believed could have somehow saved his wife’s life. He punished himself for missing this detail, he believed he had failed and that he had not kept his wife ‘safe within the net’.

His grief was so strong that it took away his ability to speak.

After his session we spoke about perfectionism and that this story had placed an unbearable weight on him about getting ‘every detail right’. He created a new belief for himself to let go of the perfectionist and laugh at mistakes because he was always learning. He told me in his journey the most beautiful moment was when he looked into water and watched the fish in the reeds and listened to the music the water made.

It reminded me of this photo that I took when Tony & I used to gather water from the spring near Wombat Forest in Victoria.

Learn more about Swan Pathworking Sessions with Julia..

The Vow to Never Do Harm

The Vow to Never Do Harm

Swan Lore Story

I made this doll for Kristen after she journeyed through her Swan Lore session. There were many clues and hints in this doll for new surprise and gifts that were coming to Kristen but were unknown to us both at the time. But they were known to the dolls...

Today I share Kristen's beautiful Swan story because I feel it touches on an old belief and fear that we carry as women from the Burning Times - that somehow working with nature and magic means that we are doing harm. Or the fear that what we are doing will be misunderstood and lied about and we will be labelled as our great grandmother witches and healers were and persecuted for it.

When I sat in session with Kristen I was very moved because I could feel how pure and rare her spirit was. It's always a gift and honour for me to sit with others in the Swan Lore sessions because I receive so much too. Something really unique was happening as I sat with Kristen, it was as if an older part of myself somehow recognised her. Often, before a session people tell me that I visit them in dreams. It's never something I intend or do consciously but I'm always happy to hear that this happens as if the Swan has made introductions. It wasn't until she wrote and sent me her Swan story afterwards that she told me about the dream she had before we even laid eyes on each other:

"First I want to tell you about the dream I had the night before the Swan Lore session. I was speaking with you and a friend of yours, a maiden helper- deciding about some sort of round symboled jewels to wear on my third eye. I did not recognize any of the symbols; some had animal spirits, but none of them spoke to me even though they were all so beautiful. We began talking about Iceland, and we traveled together to the volcanic rocks outside of Keflavik along the coast. You shapeshifted into an Elf Woman as I told you a story about my son seeing a troll among the rocks. You were speaking Icelandic, in a trance- your pupils were pinpoints, your ears were slightly pointed. You stayed that way, speaking Icelandic in trance until I woke up."

And now for the retelling of my Swan Lore story:

'As I looked into the pool, I saw myself- I was young and had very long red, wavy hair. As the well water rippled I saw a woman, ancient and weathered, with hair like mine but white and gray. I followed her and we arrived at her home in the woods where she lived alone. It was a small cottage, well taken care of, but round and the light was dappled and happy though the leaves of the great trees towering above us. She was used to being alone and moved with ease as she led me down the carefully laid stones to the house. On her arm she carried a basket filled with plants and roots and along the pathway and surrounding the house were a number of plants used for medicines. We walked in and I saw more plants hanging for drying, and others that were piled along the table. There was one window in the house- one chair, one table, a hearth and a bed. There were other plants in clay pots and jars on shelves.

I was aware that people would come find her in the woods for her medicines and for her Sight. A woman came for medicine and looked wary of being there. She was cloaked, but desperate for the old woman’s help, for the old woman not only worked with plants but very secretly, very carefully and covertly worked in other ways- in the other realms. Her Grandmother had taught her the ways of the forest, the Old Ways, the Spirit of the Plants and the ways of healing with the Earth. She was so pleased to learn and thought her Grandmother the most powerful and kind of all people. Her Grandmother handed her Rosemary- something very important, a pausing, a way of remembering. This was for her to keep for herself, a totem of the Medicine she was teaching her, the same way her Grandmother had taught her and so on and so on. The ancestral lineage passed on from many lifetimes. I felt so deeply connected and so grateful. We flashed back to when the old woman was a young woman. She was gathering plants with her Grandmother, walking along the side of small cottage which the two of them shared. She was feeling a deep heaviness and like the plants and the life she was bound to was a burden- She felt like she wanted to marry- she was so angry, so angry at her Mother. Her Mother was gone.

It was hard to look. Her Mother had died in a fire, a witch’s burning. She died with three other women who were also burned;  for practicing her Sacred Medicine. Her Mother had long blonde hair. She watched from the very back of the crowd, cloaked and stood next to her Grandmother. Before the burning was complete, her Grandmother hurried her away, deep into the forest and taught her the Old Ways. She was only about 16 at the time and did not understand everything, for she promised to Never do Harm- something her Mother was accused of, although she never actually caused any harm. All of the cycles of life had become confused all around her. She vowed to stay alone, she felt deeply burdened by this responsibility- to practice the Medicine, what her Grandmother told her was the most important thing. More important than anything else. When she died, there was a woman and a child with her, possibly her own daughter and granddaughter. As she took her last breath she turned to face the single window of the house and focused on the doe just outside. As she took her last breath, she saw nothing but the doe.

The bound agreement of the burden of the life of a healer, the obligation of healing, the solitude, and the vow to Never do Harm manifested into thick jungle vines. They wove themselves around me, around my torso and began to tighten like a vice. It was hard to breathe. The well woman gave me a ball of light in each hand to cut the vines, and with this action the Story and the agreements, the burden, the lies, and the confusion withered away dissolving into light.

Then it was me- the Red haired maiden and the Blonde Mother as One- surrounded by all of our Grandmothers from the well woman and her Grandmother and her Grandmother and so on and so on- the circle around us was grand indeed. My crown was made of roses and rosemary, and the White Raven came and rested on my left shoulder. I was washed clean.”

I will say, the following week after this blessing I sat down in meditation and the White Raven came back- this time flying into my womb and settling in for the long haul. It has not left me since. Thank you for this opportunity for deep connection with myself, with my ancestors, and with those to come.

Blessings and Love, Kristen

I hope we can all come to a place of being able to offer the gifts of our lineage and ancestral folklore with love and trust again. Thank you Kristen for sharing your Swan story and your dream.

The Witch's Daughter - Past Life Vow to Remain Alone

Witches' Wood by Bertrand H. Wentworth

Swan Blessing is the past life and ancestral healing work that I began 7 years ago to help clear and heal the memories and ancestral trauma of the 'burning times' upon our ancestors and ourselves. The memory or soul loss created by witnessing events where women have been persecuted for simply being healers and connected to the earth and her plants or even carrying these memories from our ancestors in our DNA can create many kinds of problems in our present lives. The most common feeling is anxiety, but it can also manifest as a kind of sensation of being stuck and unable to move because in a way we remember what happened to the women who stood out, were different. The biggest crime of all is that it has conditioned us to believe it is safer to stay on the edge of the 'mystery', to never step back through the veil. 

Today I share Alex' Swan Blessing story of the witch's daughter and her vow to remain alone. When I read this story in full it had a profound effect on me because she was speaking from the heart about issues that were so personal and painful for her. I loved her retelling and the honesty, the raw guts and all approach to her life! Thank you Alex for reminding me that this journey with the collective is also personal and individual - we cannot compare it to anyone else's experience and the worst thing we can do is try to 'fit in'. Alex is also speaking honestly about the healing process and how it is often like peeling layers away - good and deep healing takes time. Most importantly I am so happy to see that now Alex is alone when she chooses to be alone and that she is MAGNIFICENT! 

With her story also came gifts of healing water gathered at the Fairy Pools on the Isle of Skye in Scotland where she was the only one crazy enough that day to swim in those freezing waters and from the Chalice Well in Glastonbury. When Alex arrived for her session I didn't know that she was about to embark on this journey, but as soon as she chose tarot cards from the Gaian Tarot by Joanna Powell Colbert (an amazing deck that I find perfect for past life work) her destination was right there in front of her in vivid colour. The cards asked Alex 'are you going to always sit on the edge of the mystery daughter? How long can you keep yourself apart, a step away from joy?' Here is her answer.

Swan Blessing reading with the Gaian Tarot before Alex journeyed with the Swan

"This has taken me a while to write. Soon after my Swan Blessing with Julia, I wrote some notes to remember my encounter. But to write it out fully, is to release it. And I haven’t been ready to do that. Until now. I very much enjoy wallowing in my pain and misery, observing it, letting it twist my insides until my anxiety levels peak. It’s quite sadistic, I know. But I learn from it, as long as I acknowledge it. Which takes a while. After I wallow, I ignore all the self-inflicted pain and become destructive until I am ready to face the truth. I am a big advocate of 'ignorance is bliss'. Yet the problem is, this no longer works for me. I know too much, have felt too much to be ignorant to my desires, passions and ultimately the light and dark of my being. Which was why I went to see Julia.

I arrived at Julia's home on the second day of spring, full of promise, hope, doubt and a little worried. Throughout the year, I have been doing a lot of soul searching, trying to understand my nature, patterns I repeat and my shadow aspect which I have a tendency to either deny or let consume me. I was going to Julia to seek answers. When she explained to me that sometimes vows or promises made in past lifetimes have the ability to affect us in this lifetime, my immediate reaction was "shit... I reckon I did some pretty crazy shit in my previous lives". But Julia's calming voice let me break away from my fears and feel the love and energy of my spirit guides and ancestors.

After I selected cards from a tarot deck, Julia was able to explain to me the vow I had made was having a major impact on my relationships in this lifetime. This was very accurate, as I do struggle to connect to others on a higher level as well as letting certain patterns destroy my relationships. However, the next card was the one that really hit me. It was a young girl sitting on the edge of the Chalice Well, a famous spiritual site in Glastonbury, England. Like the girl, spiritually, I had always found myself on the edge. Never delving in, never committing, yet interested and informed. Not being able to let go and experience spirituality had there caused me much sadness throughout my life, contributing to feeling like an outsider. What made this card particularly interesting, was that in approximately a month, I was travelling to the UK, so making the journey to the Chalice Well was at the top of my must see list. The final card was the Sun which showed a girl surrounded by sunflowers, dancing, with a beautiful, happy and knowing smile. I saw myself in that girl and instantly I wanted that version of me. I didn’t want to wallow and pity myself anymore. Nor self-destruct,hurt myself and others or waste my life away in ignorance. I wanted to release the vow I made, one so strong, it hid, forcing me to go deep within. One that I have carried through lifetimes, letting it affect me and even feeding it at times. But not anymore. This time I am going to let it go.

The first thing I see are green eyes. Green eyes peering at me in a pool of clear water. I try to reach to the creature with the engaging green eyes. But they disappear. I call to them again and this time they appear with a nose. But they still will not leave the pool, the safety. They are willing to let me in, but they will not come out. I must go deeper for this journey. As I break through the veil of the pool onto the other side, I find myself in a partially dried river bed, in a beautiful valley surrounded by trees, standing next to a girl of about 8 years old. She has straw coloured hair and is dressed in a filthy white woollen shift. As she turns to look up at me, somewhat defiant yet also grateful, I see that the eyes match the green eyes I saw in the pool. She still will not let me approach her, but she allows me to follow her so she can show me. I follow her along the river bank, watching her as she stops sporadically to pick something up, throwing stones into the river here and there and occasionally checking that I do not get too close to her. I ask her where her family are.

She speaks to me without opening her mouth, in what I can only describe as telepathically. She tells me that she is alone. She is upset but she looks into my third eye and shows me what happened to her family. I am not myself, I am her. I feel all her fear and horror as people surround her house, yelling and shouting, calling out to her mother. I can see my (her) mother standing in the corner shielding my brother, a toddler who is crying. The people around the house are yelling a number of things, directed at my mother such as“Heretic”, “Witch”, “Whore” and“Slut”. The mob burnt the house to the ground. Yet I was not in it. I am not sure how or why, but I was somehow watching the house burn from above.

I feel all her loss, pain and anger at losing her family. As the girl pulled me back to myself, she explained that she had been living in the valley on her own, taking care of herself. I ask her to show me happier times with her family and what it was like before they took them away. Again, I am forced into her consciousness. I see my mother, who radiated love and cared for me so much. The love I felt towards my mother, emanating from my small form was some of the purest, most joyful love I have ever felt. My mother was a medicine woman or hedge witch, who showed me how to make healing poultices, use healing plants and hunt and trap animals for food. I had no father. I played with my little brother and took him to the garden when people would come to see my mother. The same people who would kill her. Young women would come for love or fertility, and men for healing and virulence. To the child and to me she was the absolute embodiment of the divine feminine. The perfect balance of feminine and masculine. She was womanly and gentle with unbleached skin and light auburn hair with big blue eyes like sapphires.While these people used her for her services, they were always wary and scared of her. I could feel my child’s mind unable to understand, because the way I saw her as beautiful, loving and caring. She was pure. The people who used her were troubled and scared of everything including themselves.

illustration John D Batten

I was thrown forward in time and I was still the girl but a little older, around 14 years old. I slept in a large tree at night to keep warm. I was able to hunt for myself and find any herbs, vegetables or plants that I needed. I was ultimately a recluse, withdrawing form human contact as much as I possibly could. She wanted me to see that we could take care of ourselves. That we didn’t need to rely on others. As I acknowledged this fact, I was thrown forward again to a time where I was approximately 20 years old. I was walking through the middle of a small town or village. The people that I walked past, mostly in a market place, stopped what they were doing to gawk at me. Some were whispering, few knew who I was. Others could feel or sense the power that was emanating from me, swirling around me, threatening to consume them if they dare approach. My destination was a hall which sat on a hill just above the village. The only way I can describe my thoughts while I was walking through the village was “NO FUCKS GIVEN.” I did not care what these people thought of me, what they said to me or about me. I was fucking magnificent, powerful and most of all, I knew it. I was there for a purpose.

As I approached the hall and opened the doors to enter, my eyes locked with a man in a large chair, someone who was clearly in charge. He knew who I was and I knew who he was. He was my father. And he had had my mother and brother killed. Whatever his reasons or intentions, I did not care. I stared at him until his gaze fell, possibly in recognition of who I was or in acceptance of what was about to happen. And then I cursed him. I cannot remember the exact words (probably a good thing) but they were similar to “I curse you and all your seed. Your line will begin and end with me. All you love, have ever loved and all you touch will turn to dust and fade. You will be nothing. You are nothing." The pure anger, hatred and vengeance was like nothing I had ever felt. At times I can be a vindictive person who will hurt others because they have hurt me, but this was next level. In this lifetime I was willing to sacrifice myself to hurt another person. To take away everything that mattered to him, because he had taken away the only thing that I cared about. My vow and the sacrifice I made for the curse was to be alone forever. I had lost the only thing that mattered and rather than try to find solace and acceptance, other people to care for, I chose hateful vengeance and a solitary life. I was shown a brief glimpse of the rest of my life, which was not overly long. I had a number of lovers and seduced anyone I could, with no acknowledgement of the pain I caused to people that had never hurt me. I bore children and in a way discarded them, found no joy in them, regarded them as a hindrance. And so I was always alone. I didn’t care for anyone.

Many years later, I went back to the village of my father. They eventually bound me in chains and placed me in a jail of some sort. In some way, I knew that my father was dying or very ill. I was at the end of my journey, the hate and rage had become exhausting and it was nearly over. I knew that to capture and kill me, despite the curse would give my father a measure of peace in his after life. So in my last act of defiance I pulled a vial of poison out from between my breasts, took the dram in one long swig and died with a smile on my lips because I had won. I had sacrificed my own peace to take away someone else’s.

Once again, I was standing in the valley beside the river bed, with the young woman who had placed the curse in front of me. As I looked at her, my eyes filled with tears and my whole body became tense, making me feel like I had been winded. I begged her to embrace me, to release the anger, hatred and the vow that held us both. She refused me. Who was I to tell her what to do? How could I make her release when no one else could? What happened next, was like some telepathic exchange where I explained that I knew how she felt, I had just seen it, I was also bound by her hatred. I pleaded with her once more and hesitantly she embraced me and then collapsed in to my arms. All the sadness, sorrow, hatred and pain left her, filtered into me and she became light as a feather. Before she was beautiful because she was fearsome. Now she beautiful because she was happy. She could be finally be with her mother and brother. They were standing there waiting for her, like they always had been. As she hugged me goodbye, thanked me and went to her family, all her emotions consumed me and bound me in vines from my feet to my neck. As they constricted and suffocated, this was the time I knew I could not wallow in my self-hatred and pity. I searched for anything to break me free from these constricting vines and found a dagger made of bone. As I began to hack away at the vines piece by piece, I could feel the tension in my body begin to ease, the anxiety slip away. I felt the hatred, vengeance and pain fall away with every vine. I cut through the curse and the vow and felt my body release generations of pain. I was free.

A month after I had my Swan Blessing, I journeyed to the UK. I went with a heart and head full of the excitement, knowledge and hope I had gained. And you know what? I was disappointed. I arrived in London expecting to be this amazing, free person, yet I still wasn’t. To be honest, after seeing Julia I did a little bit of work on myself but other than immediately after the blessing I didn’t feel significantly different. I thought it would all make sense when I left, when I escaped from everything I knew. I expected an instant fix. I saw friends in London and Liverpool and travelled to Glasgow on my own, waiting every moment for this 'epiphany' to happen. To let go of all my bullshit, to release my vow, to be as free as that girl in the sun, the one who had cut all the vines. Instead I was homesick. I was in a country I had wanted to travel to virtually my entire life and I was fucking homesick!? What the hell was wrong with me? Where was this magical realisation and cure all for me being a fucked up mess? Feeling quite dejected I continued on. I hired a car and drove through the Scottish Highlands, to the Isle of Skye, Inverness and back down to Edinburgh. I marvelled at the enormity of the highlands, the vast meandering emptiness that also felt so full of life with a sparkle in my eyes and a grin on my face. I forced myself out of my shell, talking to the travellers, asking their advice and picked up a hitchhiker who I travelled to Skye and Inverness with. I climbed mountains, stood on cliffs and swam in the Fairy Pools. I went searching for the Northern Lights of Inverness, driving along winding roads that felt so tiny and foreign. I stood on the banks of Loch Ness, with a song in my heart and picked a thistle for my one true love.

During this time, I forgot that I was waiting for this 'epiphany'. I forgot that I needed a cure for being a mess, for being sensitive and cruel at the same time. It wasn’t until I was back in London and had a little down time that I remembered how important the Chalice Well had been to me. So I hired a car and drove out to Glastonbury, stopping at Stonehenge on the way. After arriving in Glastonbury late, I left early the next morning to drive towards Tintagel Castle and Cornwall. Due to lack of planning, I missed the opportunity to explore Merlins Cave. Pissed off, I hiked up a ridiculous amount of stairs against the tearing wind to look at some bloody rocks that form what was once a castle. I kept going, marvelling at the wildness of the country, avoiding massive slugs and goats that are apt to chase people. When I had reached a peak, I sat down partially from exhaustion, part memory and part sadness. I stood up and looking down at the ferocious sea, I screamed into the wind, yelling at the goddess, at god, at myself, daring the wind to become powerful enough to knock me into the sea and let it consume me. With a raw throat, salt stained face and teary eyes, I walked back to the car.

I had one more stop before I could finally go to the Chalice Well, and that was St. Nectan's Glen which I thought looked like a cool waterfall. Once I arrived, I started to walk along the path hurriedly as I just wanted to get a photo and get back in the car so I could make it to see the Chalice Well before it closed. Yet I kept walking. And walking. And bloody walking! Rather than taking in the beauty around me, I was hurrying. When I finally reached the entrance I walked down to the waterfall and I was on my own in this haunting glen. It felt like there was no one around for miles. Like I was the only soul left alive. I admired the ribbons hanging from trees, small piles of flat stones and the rushing water from the beautiful keyhole waterfall. I sat for a moment and contemplated whatever people contemplate in places such as this and then I stood up, took my clothes off and waded into the water and stuck my head under the freezing waterfall. Because why not?

I finally made it to the Chalice Well gardens that afternoon (after taking forever to find a park in tiny English streets, being yelled at for smoking too close to the gardens and scolded for coming towards closing time). I walked the gardens, took photos and drank the water which apparently has healing properties. By the time I came to the actual Well, I sat and cried. Not from sadness or happinessbut from acknowledgement. Sitting by it, I can’t honestly say if it was 'welling' with the spirits and powers of ancient magicks. I was too consumed in myself and my 'epiphany' moment. The Chalice Well was a reminder of how far I had come since sitting in the room in the forest with Julia and discovering my vow, my strength and my darkness.

Despite making the vow to be alone and being afraid of it all my life, I learned it is okay to be a recluse at times in order to recharge and to do things on your like driving through Scotland. That like the little girl from my Swan Blessing, I can take care of myself, without reliance on others, what they think of me and their opinions on how I conduct my life. I realised that I am FUCKING MAGNIFICENT, even if I don't feel that way all the time and that while being born a woman, a cause of pain and frustration in many ways, is such a blessing that I need to own it and be proud of being this fucking divine. I don't need to constantly test people nor do I have to win all the time, as it is okay to let go sometimes. I acknowledge that I don't need to rush all the time, sometimes the universe is just screaming for you to take your time. Most importantly I realised that I am deserving of love and so much more.

While these might not sound like things worthy of a major realisation, these are issues that I have faced throughout my life. While I visualised cutting away the vines that day in the forest, they were never completely gone. Cutting the vines did not release my vow, but gave me the power to release it. However it doesn't come quickly. You release parts and pieces, acknowledging and bidding farewell. They will try to come back repeatedly (a bit like John Farnham) but you know better now. They're transparent and you are no longer ignorant. You won't let the vines creep up on you again. Whilst I understand not everyone can go on a journey like I did so soon after having their blessing, you don't need to. You have been awoken. You have seen your lightness and possibly your darkness. It won't come as easy as you think or will it come quickly and you will spend a long time keeping those vines at bay. But it's worth it. Because you're no longer happy to sit by in ignorance and bliss. Take the pain and harsh realisations because it is all worth it in the end.

I would like to thank Julia for not only the Swan Blessing but also the help and advice she has given me in the past. I have learnt that I don't need to hold on to things to make them true. I need to release them so that I am able to live."

Alex Walker, 2016

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Photos by Alex Walker

GrandMother Crow and Past Life Beliefs

Lately I have been finding crow feathers on every walk in the forest. This is a photo of a GrandMother messenger that I met on Williamstown Beach many moons ago - one of the biggest teachings I've ever received. She said to me 'you are beholden to no-one' and began to show me visions of past lives where I'd taken sacred vows of silence, poverty, chastity and the healer's oath - beautiful & honourable vows in their time but promises that had become binding and heavy to my spirit now. Soon after this meeting with Crow I began to travel around Australia for the next 3 years with the medicine that became known as Swan Blessing - a release from old karmic contracts and sacred vows.

I'm happy to say that after resting this medicine over the last 6 months I will be opening space to hold these medicine sessions again in 2015 in person here in Sherbrooke Forest & by Skype. Blessings on your path friends, you are free.

Kristan's Swan Blessing Story of The Outcast

In her past life, Kristan belonged to a tribe that could not accept the powerful medicine that she carried. In her tribe this medicine was seen as taboo for woman to hold. She was asked to obey or to leave. She chose to say NO to the tribe so that she could say YES to her spirit. Many of us have experienced similar stories in past lives and in our present lives. We have felt that to truly be ourselves, we must journey alone. Or we have put up with behaviour that hurts us just to stay a part of the tribe whether that tribe is family, society, peers. In this time of the rise of the Divine Feminine we are being called out of the shadows to embrace all of our natural gifts and to release the fear of being rejected and cast out by those who do not understand or accept us. Saying NO when it is right for us is a practice of honouring ourselves. When we release the belief that there was ever anything ‘wrong’ with us we remember that we are all creatures of the earth – as individual as every animal and plant and an integral part in the wheel of life.

Looking into the waters of the crystal ball of consciousness, I stared and I waited and I imagined I would not see anything. And I saw nothing for what felt like such a long, long time, I was beginning to feel I would not see, that my mind was too strong to allow my soul to show me what I needed and wanted to see

I stayed with prayer, asking and pleading at one moment to see, please let me see  . . .  and then the mists began to clear and I could see a clearing in the mountains, green pine all around, the smell of freshness and soil, and a teepee

And horses, many horses And then I saw HER, myself in another time By the teepee, the wild life of the mountains surrounding HER  Ah, she was alone, living an isolated life, no tribe, a sadness surrounded herI could also sense an understanding, acceptance of her situation as the best possible outcome for her at that time and place We saw each other, she smiledI could see her deer skin clothing, her turquoise choker with red beads HER long, long braids of dark black hair I could feel HER and I felt a relief that we had met, that the veils had parted and that we could meet I began to track why she was alone in the woods, her only communication with the forest life; the birds, woodland creatures, trees, the natural world who heard her and loved her

A new vision appeared I found myself within a tribe of teepees A fire A Father, a Chief at the door of his teepeeAnd a Mother and more children (my siblings) sitting at the door of her teepee I stood by my Father, the Chief as he asked me again if I would do what was expected of me and again, the 12 year old HER (me) said NO I would NOT

I was banished from my tribe

For being who I was For speaking who I was For saying NO to what was not true for me I caught the eye of my mother and she caught mine sadness but understanding i saw there and in my father too, not as cheif, but as my father a sadness and again an understanding And away SHE went, alone, to live a life of isolation, to be herself Again, I find myself back at HER teepee This time we connect, we stand in a pool of water, a water fall, falling behind us The vines from below come up, writhing and cover her, strangle her, snake like she is bound I connect with HER, I cut with my teeth the binding reedy vines I free HER She smiles at me, she becomes as of light and as a shooting star Returns

The wounding: I will be rejected, cast out, banished from my tribe if I am myself, authentic and truth speaking, if I say NO to what does not feel right I release this binding, this wounding as I bite and free the vines of that lifetime

The blessing: authentic, true and free, I express myself fully, I am my actualized self, accepted, loved and cherished by my tribe, now and for eternity

Thank you Kristan Read, for sharing your beauty, strength and truth. Kristan is a Shamanic Midwife, Teacher and crafting creatrix extraordinaire! You can experience Kristan’s inspiring medicine for yourself through her work at www.atmypractice.comand www.thecrafthive.com

Read more Swan Blessing stories

New Forest Space for Sacred Familiar

Hello dreamers we have now opened our new space in Kallista surrounded by the green wonder of Sherbrooke Forest. Ancestral Medicine sessions will open on Monday at the New Moon Solar Eclipse. Hope to see you soon. We also offer sessions by Skype and telephone for our faraway friends. Green love to you all for your weekend wanderings, Julia and Tony x

Swan Past Life Story - Unbinding Plant Wisdom

Today I share again with you the moving Swan Past Life story of Nicole Ahava who remembered a time of working closely with plants as medicine. I will always be grateful to Nicole for awakening my own ancestral memory of doll making. It is a path that once re-awakened, is hard to ignore!

We both knew that there was a memory Nicole carried of still needing to hide and work in secret. This is something that many of us feel and it can be very hard to reconcile with only the rational mind. I hope Nicole's story helps all of those feeling this fear to come out of the darkness and share your wise gifts too.

I am walking barefoot through a familiar forest. I come upon the well. I look into the deep pool and see her. She is a tribal woman, with long dark hair and dark eyes. She takes my hand and we cross the threshold, I am there. It is dark, the land is barren.She dances around a fire. I see so much pain inside her. This is a dance of mourning. Her face is full of sorrow as she stomps and writhers around the fire.

She shows me her journey. I see her wondering naked on the bare earth. She is a very small child. There has been a great upheaval and her family has left her behind. She is found by a wise old woman who takes her in, raising her and teaching her wisdom. They walk the earth together. This is where she learns her medicine. Later she is a grown woman she takes me to her village. We are in front of her mud hut with her six children. They are so beautiful. They have very little but there is so much love. She shows me her work with plants making medicine.

There has been great famine, all the people in her village have been driven away from their lands. They now live on barren land, fighting starvation and illness. Her husband has gone to a far away land to work. The women from the village cover their heads as they go to her for medicine and scurry away quickly with her brew hidden in their robes back to their huts. She is living in fear and isolation. She shows me how they come, soldiers, tearing her children out of her arms. They are taking them away, she pleads with them desperately, she vows never to use her medicine again, but they take them all away.

Finally I see her lying on the bare earth, she is old and lonely, overwhelmed with grief. She lets her body go and is instantly free.

I am back in the forest at the water’s edge we are facing each other. I honour her. I understand why she made that vow. She smiles at me. She knows why we are here. It is time to let it go. We hold each other with deep love and she transforms into light she is surrounded and embraced by her family, her children, her husband, the wise old lady and her mother they are all free.

I am standing before the daughter of the well bound heavily. Together we cut the bindings and instantly I feel myself expand, I am free. She takes me into her sacred well, all the daughters are there. I am floating in the sacred well. The daughters are washing away all that burdens my soul. I am cleansed, pure, light and free.

The first time I got an email from Sacred Familiar about the Swan Journey Sessions I knew it was something that I just had to do. I put it aside for a while but the swan medicine continued to call me. It is a very sacred and profound blessing. In this life I was born a healer. As a child I would give healing to sick animals, I would lay in my bed at night and send healing to people. Years later when I began to explore my own healing I became a Reiki master and it all came back to me, but I would find that every time I shared my medicine the energy would get stuck with me or my children would get sick. I could not share my medicine because I was afraid that it would harm my children.

The swan journey really is very gentle as she continues to unfold and expand in my life. There have been many changes I have been able to share freely without fear, I feel as though a channel has been cleared from which I am free to connect and receive more clearly and my medicine is changing, becoming more potent. I extend my deepest gratitude for this journey and to Julia. Thank you.

Nicole 2013