A Wonderful Story Unfolding
In Hindu philosophy, there is the belief that all souls, all spirits, are on this tremendous journey back to the source of everything–like a drop of water finding its way back to the ocean. Western thought sees time in a much more linear fashion. But regardless, our souls are traversing this land. We are seeking […]
In Hindu philosophy, there is the belief that all souls, all spirits, are on this tremendous journey back to the source of everything–like a drop of water finding its way back to the ocean.
Western thought sees time in a much more linear fashion.
But regardless, our souls are traversing this land. We are seeking something greater than ourselves. We are wanting to belong. We are wanting purpose. We are hoping for a sense of community. And I think, regardless of whether one is Christian, Pagan, Hindu or Jain, we all seek some sense of permanence in a world that seems so transitory.
We want a legacy. We want a connectedness to the past, the present and the future.
And here we are…in Texas of all places, our role of the cosmic dice. Some of us drive trucks. Some are businessmen/businesswomen, Moms, Dads, Writers, Poets, Drunks, Preachers, Teachers, Carpenters and Artists. We represent the entire spectrum of occupations and interests. And yet, we share the strange and mysterious and fun experience and love of renaissance festivals.
We don our costumes. We have a bit of ale (or not). We hit the road for a day or a weekend of escape. We listen to music. We eat great food. We buy from artists, artisans and merchants. We watch jugglers and magicians. We even dance when the spirit calls us to dance.
And then we head back home and prepare for another week of eight to five. When the renaissance season is over, we are both exhausted and quite sad. And wonder why this experience cannot go on for longer.
It’s not Disney. It’s not Six Flags. It’s friends and family. It’s the love of the past. It’s so much more.
So, several years ago, I decided that I wanted to commit a great deal of my life to growing the experience. To enhancing the depth of this very bizarre love affair I had with this seasonal excursion into a simpler, more genuine time.
Thus, Sherwood Forest Faire…and from the moment I knew it was going to become a reality, I asked others to join me on this journey. I asked you to brave the winter cold last January. And over a hundred of you did. I asked you to take your paintbrush and place your vision of what Sherwood would/should/could become upon its canvas.
Many were skeptical. So many of the old timers had seen first year faires come and go without much more than a whisper. Others of you patted us on the back and bid us good luck.
Still others of you huddled around the campfires and sang songs, drank ale, walked the woods and listened to possibilities…while adding your thoughts, concerns, and visions.
And over the last twelve to fourteen months, Sherwood has taken on a life of its own. We have folk from all over emailing us about their desires to be a part of what is being created in these magical enchanted woods of Sherwood. We have people volunteering their time, their gas, and their talents to build the very core of this faire. There are more paintbrushes at work now than one can imagine.
This is not a faire. It is an experiment. It is a fantastic voyage. It is a community. It is art. It is business. It is a thousand dreams converging. It is story being written by a myriad of authors.
Unlike other faires, we come to you as partners in this venture. We come to you not having all the answers, but believing that our collective wisdom is greater than our individual insights.
And when you enter Sherwood, you can look at what is; but we encourage you, rather, to look beyond at what will be.
Check your calendars. See if you have the time to join us for the December 12th Gathering. And spread the word that soon the gates of Sherwood will be open wide.
Blessings to you and yours,
Rengypsy
