A Changing of Seasons
Tens of thousands of years ago, man began a journey toward civilization…an evolution of the human consciousness away from mere survival and one toward planning and development. In the caves of southern France, we can witness the evidence of man finding both the time and desire to express himself/herself through art. New tools were invented. […]
Tens of thousands of years ago, man began a journey toward civilization…an evolution of the human consciousness away from mere survival and one toward planning and development.
In the caves of southern France, we can witness the evidence of man finding both the time and desire to express himself/herself through art.
New tools were invented.
Agricultural techniques and the domestication of animals were developed.
Religion seems to have formed very early from what we find in ancient graves.
And we as a species looked up into the heavens and attempted to make sense of things by associating the formation of stars with our psyches and lives.
We erected stone circles.
We made primitive calendars reflecting the seasons.
Rituals arose from our coming together in tribes and clans.
Music—drums, the beating of sticks, song, and the like—could be heard as we gathered around the fire in the evenings.
And storytelling became the means of passing down our traditions to the next generation.
Sherwood is young. We have a long way to go in our evolution; but, our foundations are solid. We have created our spiritual spaces. We have clans. We have music. We have basic laws of what we mutually accept as right and wrong. We gather at the changing of seasons to recognize we are part of nature. We understand the significance of fire and earth and wind and water. We have a respect for our place in the cosmos. We realize that we are all sojourners…so we give gypsies their due. We know all is not explainable or understood and thus magic is all about us…so we pay homage to the fey and fairy folk who wander about causing mischief.
Sherwood remains a canvas for all to paint upon. It remains a living, breathing experiment in culture…as well as a place and time where we may still dream.
Sherwood is evolving like the rest of creation. It is neither stagnant nor stationary. It is like all of us as individuals—an imperfect composite of living organisms attempting to co-exist and survive.
Sherwood, like each of us, is imperfect, flawed and in need of grace and forgiveness. Sherwood needs your love and patience. It is in a constant state of becoming…and like us, sometimes becomes overzealous or imbalanced.
But like us, Sherwood is composed of stardust…and with roots in earth spinning around our sun….swirling within the Milky Way Galaxy, one of a billion such galaxies…and our place is to find acceptance and peace with our existence.
Sherwood is for me passing through cycles – seasons – not circles, but rather loops that never connect, and instead spiral.
It is essential that as we look forward to the seventh season of faire, we each take time for introspection—to think, to vocalize, what brought us here, what keeps us here, or if some have left…what pushed you away—what caused the disillusion?
So, we dance, we sing, we drink, we come together in celebration. We see each other aging and young ones coming behind who will carry the torches and banner from the various clans to the Seven Sisters.
And like the ancient Greeks, we will struggle to find the balance between the various aspects of our existence. We will allow Bacchus to have a festival of wine. We will work at planting and harvest season. We will expand our rituals. We will continue to encourage our storytellers to repeat the events we feel are worthy of passing down.
We will respect the land, the animals, each other, and we will know as we gather in the place called Sherwood that there is no king. There is no absolute power beyond the collective wisdom and compassion we bring.
Join us this coming week at the Texas Music Jamboree. Put the 2016 Faire on your calendar. Come to our gatherings and volunteer as well as break bread with us. Bring your drums. Touch our sacred grounds. Bring your magic and your awe to the experience we have called Sherwood.
Love and respect,
Rengypsy
