Author: John D. (Page 166 of 202)

Pagan connections 9) Divination

fortune slips at Heian Shrine (courtesy of traveladdicts)

Japan. past and present
Go to a shrine and one thing you’re sure to see: fortune slips tied up on a tree. The preoccupation with fortune-telling of young Japanese, females in particular, is striking. Where does it stem from? One place to look is the shamanistic roots of Shinto.

In ancient times Japan used a form of continental divination based on heating animal bones, such as the shoulder blade of a deer, so that it cracked. Then specially purified experts would ritually analyse the pattern of the cracks. After Yayoi times tortoise-shell came to replace animal bone, and from the Kamakura period divination became ever more diverse.

As well as dream interpretation there was footstep divination, which depended on the number of steps taken in a given direction, and bird divination which counted the number and direction of birds. My favourite is ‘roadside divination’, which involved going out to a crossroads and listening for clues in random bits of conversation like a living I Ching.

Shamans, past and present
Judging by the shops in Glastonbury, divination is just as popular amongst New Agers and neo-pagans as amongst Japanese. Oracle cards, runes, tarot, palmistry, astrology, clairvoyance, pendulums – there seems no end. The let-out is that if you don’t like the future on which you’re headed you can always create a new one.

Shamanic healer Kestrel, in front of a painting of the pagan goddess Bridget

Today I went to a shamanistic reading by Kestrel, one of Glastonbury’s most respected practitioners. The smell of herbs filled the air as he took some deep breaths and went into a rambling discourse on the state of my higher self. One thing I learnt was that I was going to retire to south-west England, near Totnes. Mmm. With the full moon shining on the Tor, I’m feeling at the moment I’d rather it was Glastonbury…

Neo-shamanism makes up a big part of the neo-pagan scene, and you have the feeling that paganism like Shinto must have grown out of shamanism. Rather than drawing down the spirits, shamans journeyed into the other world to seek aid in helping others in their community. Divination and healing formed a major part of their activities.

Healing, past and present
Last night at Glastonbury’s monthly pagan moot the discussion focussed on the healing power of particular herbs. Some of the members were practising witches, though there were also those with an interest in aromatherapy and other forms of healing. Matters medical took precedence over matters magical.

At some stage in history Shinto lost its healing and shamanistic aspects. I think this must have been during the seventh century. Buddhism took over exorcism and other forms of spirit healing at the imperial court. 0nmyodo (Yin-yang) experts cornered the market in divination. Shamans came to be seen as dangerous individuals who looked to the spirit realm rather than a worldly ruler. You can see why a supreme ruler wouldn’t be keen on them.

With the coming to power of the usurper Tenmu in 672, the imperial system as we know it began to take shape with a mythology based on descent from a sun-goddess. The details are pieced together in a book I’m currently reading – Imperial Politics and Symbolics in Ancient Japan by Herman Ooms. Fascinating stuff if like me you’re into this kind of thing!

 

Imperial Politics and Symbolics in Ancient Japan: The Tenmu Dynasty, 650-800

 

Pagan connections 8) People

John Howard, neo-pagan and Shinto sympathiser

Some people in the West come to an interest in Shinto through martial arts.  Some through their sympathy with nature religions and neo-paganism.  John Howard, featured here, combines both elements.

You’re Ovate of Glastonbury.  Can you explain what that means?
It’s one of the offices of modern Druids, responsible for initiating and carrying out projects for the group.  Druids preach peace and respect for nature – it’s more a philosophical path than a religion really.  We hold circles and ceremonies, but they’re open to anyone from any faith.  We meet at full moon or special days of the pagan calendar, such as Beltane which is our main festival when we carry a red and white dragon down the High Street in honour of Glastonbury’s Red and White Springs.

What form do the Druid ceremonies take usually?
It all depends on the occasion of course, but usually we form a loose circle and ask the elemental forces of the four directions to join us and give their blessing. Then we intone the Awen (three sounds which resonate round the circle in harmony).  We intone an oath of peace three times, then it depends on the purpose of the meeting really.  We might tell stories, or sing songs, or recite poems for instance.

How did your interest in martial arts develop?
Well, I learnt judo from the age of eight, and then jujitsu (rougher and older).  it led me to read everything I could about them and martial arts in general.  Around 16 I met an aikido teacher and started learning from him.  The philosophy of ‘loving protection of all things’ really appealed to me, and so I started reading more about the founder Ueshiba Morihei.  And my other big hero is swordsman Miyamoto Musashi, as I also practise kendo and iaido (way of the sword).

John Howard with a Japanese sword forged in Glastonbury, site of ancient Avalon and the legendary Excalibur

From the age of 16 I was working at Peckforton Castle in Cheshire doing reenactments of medieval life and fighting.  Later I spent about 25 years teaching medieval weaponry, including that of Japanese bushi warriors.  I feel like I was born with a sword in my hand, and I find that the principles of swordsmanship are not just valid across West and East but apply to any situation of life, really.

How did you come to an awareness of Shinto?
Well, as I said, I was drawn to the philosophy of Ueshiba and also to Daoism, which is like the Chinese version of Shinto.  What I find appealing is the spirit of Shinto, if not the formal side of the ritual ~ the wonder of nature, the respect for lineage and ancestors.  A lot of the culture of the sword for instance is about swords having a kami.  I like that idea.  And kotodama (word magic) is very much like the Bardic thinking in Druidry.  Actually Druidry and Shinto are very close, it’s amazing. They both see the world in similar ways.

Here in Glastonbury we’ve started an interfaith initiative and currently there are 53 members, all of whom belong to different sects and beliefs.  The idea is to work towards mutual understanding and further the cause of peace. The city council here are very open and supportive, so it’s a receptive place at the moment.  The pagan shrines at White Spring and the Goddess Temple have all got going in the last ten years, so I think the time is ripe for Shinto to start something too.  Even though I’ve never been to Japan, I feel a strong connection with the culture. Perhaps it’s something to do with a previous life. You can’t explain these things.

Magical pentagram uniting east and west. Here depicted as Daoist wizard Abe no Seimei's sign, the pentagram also forms the witch's symbol signifying the five elements.

Pagan connections 7) Myths

Neo-pagan dragon at the Glastonbury Experience

Dragons
Anyone who has read Joseph Campbell knows of the commonalities amongst ancient myths.  Archangel Michael slaying a seven-headed dragon in the West is echoed in Japan by Susanoo slaying the eight-headed  monster. The hero’s journey involves facing your inner demon, whatever the culture.

There are only two countries in the world with dragons on their flags: Bhutan and Wales.  Why should a mystical fantasy creature appear on such far-flung flags?  And why should the West favour a fire-eating monster whereas the East sees a benevolent emissary from on high?  I can’t help thinking Christianity plays a role here, by demonising the snake and other serpent-like creatures which played an important role in pagan religions.

I once read an academic paper about the similarities between King Arthur and Yamato Takeru, a hero of the Nihon shoki.  Rather than synchronicity, the suggestion was that the similarities arose from a common point of origin north-west of India, with migration routes spreading the story in different directions.  Perhaps something similar happened with the dragon.

Tower on Glastonbury Tor, dedicated to the dragon-slayer Michael

Here in Glastonbury one can find two opposite uses of dragon imagery.  On the top of Glastonbury Tor stand the remains of a church destroyed in an earthquake, dedicated to St Michael. As the commander of the Army of God, says the book of Revelations, archangel Michael will lead the other angels in a fight against evil, represented by a dragon.

By contrast, in the heart of the town’s lively neo-pagan community stands a statue of a Japanese-style dragon.  It’s a conscious reclamation of its role as a pre-Christian symbol of wisdom and renewal.  In this way the split between Western monotheism and Eastern thinking is being bridged by the spirituality of a New Age.

Uniqueness
You only have to think of the Nazis to realise that paganism can be misused for nationalistic and ultra-nationalistic reasons.  Apparently something very similar is  happening in contemporary Ukraine, where paganism is being utilised by those who are anti-Russian.  So far neo-paganism in Britain has thankfully avoided this, being apolitical albeit firmly allied with environmental concerns.

One of the myths of primal religions is the notion of being a chosen people, and in this respect Japanese have sometimes been compared with Jews.  The idea of gods favouring one particular race is obviously comforting, and as we know from State Shinto it can easily be turned into a nationalist ideology in times of war.

The idea that kami are only associated with Japan, and that only Japanese can be Shinto remains deeply embedded in the minds of some.  Similar notions have been expressed about the shamanism of indigenous people, such as Native Americans, and charges of ‘appropriation’ made by Westerners who adapt the practice.  However, the consequences of living in ‘a global village’ in a postmodern age mean that the argument cannot withstand the force of history.  What will be, will be.

White Spring at Glastonbury - a pagan spring revived or a neo-pagan creation?

Continuity
Both Shinto and modern paganism have claims to be ancient religions with a continuous history.  The idea of a  link with an ancient age of lost wisdom when mankind lived in accord with nature is a seductive one.  So is the notion of following age-old traditions.

However, both modern Shinto and paganism are more properly described as invented traditions.  Following the restoration of the imperial system in 1868, the government artificially divided Shinto from Buddhism, setting up a new organisation designed to bolster the spiritual authority of the emperor.  Folk customs like shamanism and shugendo (mountain asceticism) were outlawed; imperial ancestors were forced on local shrines as the primary kami; and ritual was prescribed to boost central control.

As for modern paganism, it has often sought to position itself as the continuation of ancient traditions.  Witchcraft was said to have survived secretly into modern times, despite the ruthless persecution of the seventeenth century and later.  However, studies by Ronald Hutton and others have shown that the roots lay elsewhere, such as in Theosophy, the Golden Dawn and borrowings from different traditions.  It’s now generally accepted that Wicca in particular, which was the driving force of the pagan revival, is more a creation rather than a revival.

Glastonbury's Goddess Temple, first in the land for 1500 years

 

Mother figures
Because of a concern with patriarchy in Christianity, neo-paganism has looked to reclaim the feminine.  Here in Glastonbury at this very moment a Goddess Festival is taking place, centred around the first Goddess Temple to have been established in the British Isles for some 1500 years.

Feature at the Goddess Temple, Glastonbury

Shinto too has a primal female deity, Amaterasu, but she is associated with the sun rather than the earth.  How did the sun come to be female in Japan, whereas it’s decidedly male in the West? It’s an intriguing and complex question which I’d like to take up in a separate post.  Suffice it to say here that Amaterasu serves as the great ancestral Mother of the imperial line, and as such is worshipped at Japan’s premier shrine of Ise.

For Joseph Campbell, the urgent need of our times was to find a modern myth, one that would fill the spiritual void of our postmodern society.  Here in Glastonbury a contender can be seen in the many depictions of Gaia, a concept which derives from the personification of the earth in ancient Greece,

In 1979 the scientist James Lovelock gave the idea new impetus by suggesting the earth was in fact a living organism with a self-regulatory mechanism. By interfering with it, humans are destroying it.  His hypothesis has been hailed by some as a breakthrough akin to Darwin’s theory of evolution.  Here was scientific underpinning for an ancient idea and one eagerly taken up by the neo-pagans.  It represents just what is needed for our times – an idea to cure us of the madness that allows the West to spend billions on war and greed while turning a blind eye to the destruction of the environment that entails.  Instead of invading the Middle East, why not spend the billions on declaring war on pollution and the devastation of the Amazon rainforest?

Gaia, by Oberon Zell

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Information about the Goddess Temple can be found here.   There are many youtube videos too featuring events from the Goddess Festival, such as this one.

For an absorbing 4-part interview with James Lovelock, see here.

Pagan connections 6) Sacred mountains

Glastonbury Tor ~ star of the Olympics!

 

Olympic heights
The opening of the 2012 Olympics on Friday night showcased England’s most sacred mount – Glastonbury Tor.  It featured as the pastoral paradise of William Blake’s visionary poem, before the country became despoiled by the ‘satanic mills’ of the industrial revolution.  ‘And did those feet in ancient times/ Walk upon England’s mountains green?’ run Blake’s opening words, in reference to an old legend about Jesus being brought to Glastonbury by his uncle, Joseph of Arimathea.

I happened to be staying in a bed and breakfast with a full view of the Tor just as it appeared on the television screen – with a crucial difference.  The church tower on the real Tor had been replaced by an oak tree – the sacred tree of the Druids.  What on earth was going on?  Instead of a Christian monument was a shamanistic vision of the countries of the world (represented by 204 flags) unified beneath the World Tree.  Wow!

Director Danny Boyle’s genius in pulling off this extraordinary feat was much in keeping with traditions concerning the Tor.  It’s long been associated with King Arthur legends as the site of ancient Avalon, and it stands at the intersection of important leylines. it’s also believed to have a labyrinth which spirals up to the summit and which in pagan times may have been thought of as an entrance into the other world.

The Tor is a diminutive 518 ft, which makes it all the more remarkable that it carries so much presence and has accumulated so much folklore.  I don’t think anyone forgets their first sight of it when they see it rise above the surrounding Somerset levels (once covered in water).  Many people have come under its spell and found their lives changed as a result.  For neo-pagans, it’s akin to Mecca.

On top of the Tor with a view over legendary Avalon

 

Getting high
Sacred mountains exist all around the world.  The mountains reach up towards the sky, and for ancient man they were the nearest point on earth to heaven.  On their summits the air was purer, worldly affairs far removed, and there was a sense of heightened spirituality.

Steven Sterba has written in to point out a number of sacred mountains around Europe: Mount Athos (Greece), Babia Gora (Poland), Brocken (Germany), Mount Etna (Sicily), Glastonbury Tor (Britain), Kebnekaise (Sweden), Olympus (Greece), Parnassus (Greece), Venusberg (German), and Mount Vesuvius (Italy).

It’s said that like much else ancient Japanese derived the notion of sacred mountains from China, where as far back as the fifth or fourth century B.C. Taoism had established the notion of five sacred mountains to honour the five directions (the usual four plus the centre).  Buddhism later added sacred mountains of its own.

In Japan a major development took place in the seventh century, when the legendary En no Gyoja started the shugendo (mountain asceticism) tradition of ‘entering the mountains’ for spiritual practice.  It combined elements of Buddhism, Taoism and kami worship, and out of their practice arose the sacred mountains of modern Japan.

One of the world's most famous sacred mountains ~ Mt Fuji (courtesy of adventures.bootsnall.com)

 

Mt Fuji
Independent of shugendo stands Japan’s most famous sacred mountain – Mt Fuji.  A volcano with a symmetrical cone, it was awe-inspiring both visually and as a force of nature (it last erupted in 1707).  At 12,388 ft, it’s the highest mountain in Japan, visible from surrounding areas in all directions.

No one knows for how long the mountain has been venerated.  Its status as a sacred symbol stretches back into prehistory, and it stands supreme amongst Japan’s ‘three holy mountains’, towering above its companions Tateyama and Hakusan.

In terms of Shinto, Mt. Fuji is sacred to Princess Konohana Sakuya, whose symbol is the cherry blossom. In mythology she married the kami who descended from heaven, Ninigi no mikoto, thereby cementing the tie between sky and earth (i.e. invader and indigenous people).  There is an entire series of shrines dedicated to her, called Sengen shrines.  Some of these can be found around the base of Mount Fuji, but there are more than 1,000 in all across Japan.  (The Fujiko sect by contrast worships the mountain itself as a sacred being.)

Mt Fuji has come to symbolise Japan, just as Glastonbury Tor was used to symbolise Great Britain at the Olympics.  The lump of rock rearing upwards thus becomes a microcosm for the larger rock-island on which it stands.  For nationalists that’s as far as it goes, but for universalists like myself there’s a further step to take: the large lump of rock floating in space that unites us all.

Many paths, one mountain top!

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For a report on the Tor’s role in the Olympics, and some great photographs, see Huffington Post here.
For sacred mountains in general, see here. For further information about both Glastonbury Tor and Mt Fuji, see here.

Pagan connections 5) Purity

Cleanliness is next to godliness

Shinto purification
In Shinto there’s no good and evil in a moral sense, but instead there is the idea of purity and pollution.  Whereas the kami live in a realm of absolute purity, life in the material world inevitably results in impurity.  So we need purification in order to return things to their pristine condition.  A common analogy is that the soul is like a mirror on which the dust of the world settles, rendering it unclear.  By cleaning away the dust, the mirror is restored to its natural shining state.

Purification can take different forms.  There is the symbolic washing of hands before entering a shrine.  There is the waving at rituals of the haraigushi (wand with paper streamers), in order to sweep away impurities.  And there is the ritual immersion of the body in cold water (misogi), so as to purify the soul.  In the past miko shamanesses were meant to be pure and virginal, while still today before major rituals priests purify themselves by abstaining from meat and practising other austerities.

The concern with purity is evident elsewhere too, including the Japanese obsession with cleanliness and hygiene. Salt is used after funerals to keep away evil spirits (it’s used too at sumo to cleanse the ring).  Houses and cars are protected by ritual purification.  In terms of character too, Shinto values purity of heart, as expressed in sincerity, honesty and dedication.

Athame (courtesy of paganpages.org)

Pagan practice
As in Shinto, paganism sees purity as safe and life-affirming, while ‘pollution’ is harmful.  Ritual tools are purified by water, incense, salt and fire. In Wicca the witch’s circle is symbolically sealed as sacred space by means of a ceremonial sword or athame, which cuts through evil.

The Christian concept of purity and impurity differs in emphasis. For paganism, impurity is conceived as inherently hostile to humans and gods.  In the Bible this is replaced with a concern for purity of belief and the concept of sin.  Good and evil are what matter most.  By contrast, ‘An ye harm none, do as thou wilt’ is the pagan philosophy.

Rather than ethics, it is the idea of ‘energy’ that drives neo-pagan and New Age spirituality.  This may take the form of heightened energy, as in rituals and trance dance, or the dispelling of negative energy as in healing and cleansing rituals.  Helping energy flow freely and be free of pollution or blockages is a major concern.

Christian Kyriacou

The House Whisperer
Two days ago I went to a talk by Christian Kyriacou, known as the House Whisperer after his television series.  He performs spiritual cleansing on buildings in a very New Age way, by mixing feng-shui, geomancy, neo-shamanism, ki energy, architectural principles, personal intuition and Tibetan bowls for harmonics.

Among the causes of spiritual pollution in buildings which he identified were the psychology of the occupants; mistaken architecture; bad earth energy; ‘hungry spirits’; or a past trauma at the site.  I’m not normally much taken with this kind of thing, but as he talked about various case studies I came to see there was something to it.  A couple of his stories made me sit up and think.

One of his cases concerned a construction engineer plagued by misfortune, the cause of which lay in not having collaborated with the spirit of the earth.  The constructions were built for profit and with lack of respect for basic priniciples.  As a result they were ‘ugly’ both in a physical and spiritual sense.  Kyriacou arranged a ritual in which the engineer apologised to the earth spirit, following which both his physical and financial health showed a marked improvement.

Here then was a New Age affirmation of Shinto’s jichinsai earth-breaking ritual, in which permission is symbolically sought for new building work. Perhaps there’s good reason why Japanese all seem to slavishly follow the custom, despite the cost.  I’ve even heard of Christian churches in Japan having the ritual conducted, so deep is the custom embedded in the culture.

Pat Ormsby performing the jichinsai earthbreaking ceremony

Another Kyriacou incident involved spiritual cleansing, much in the way that Shinto priests perform purification on houses by reciting Norito for their vibrational effect and waving the haraigushi wand through the air to dispel negative energy  In this case Kyriacou sensed a lingering residue from previous occupants, which needed to be cleared by a special ceremony.

Again this made me think of how traditionally Japanese have been reluctant to buy second-hand houses or wear second-hand clothes because of the lingering trace of others.  In the case of Shinto there are various taboos surrounding contact with the dead for similar reasons.  It’s in keeping with the widespread notion in the West that something of the deceased clings to their clothes and possessions, and why we are so fond of keepsakes.

Videos of the House Whisperer can be seen at the following site.  I recommend checking them out: at the very least, they will make you think…  http://www.housewhisperer.com/

House Whisperer on the job (from the House Whisperer Facebook page)

 

Pagan connections 4) Intuition

A lone sheaf left standing at the centre of a crop circle

Mystery circles
Yesterday I went on a crop circles tour which led me to reflect on the nature of intuition.  The general feeling on my tour was that the number and complexity of crop formations mean that some if not most of them cannot be explained simply in terms of a hoax.

Not only do the circles appear with alacrity (microlite airplanes passing over the same spot have supposedly recorded their sudden appearance), but it’s said the intricacy of some designs would involve teams of humans working for days on end. There’s currently a large sum of money available for any team able to replicate the intricacies of one particular formation.

There are many who ascribe the circles to UFOs and claim that science can differentiate between the real circles and those that are man-made.  It’s worth noting though that Wikipedia is sceptical: “While it is not known how all crop circles are formed, the most likely theory is that all of them were made by hoaxers.”  Really?  Even the Wikipedia site itself cites so many loose ends and oddities that personally I’m an agnostic.

Those with greater sensitivity than myself claim the circles give off a powerful energy: some feel it through meditation, some through dowsing, and some through unusual experiences.  Amongst my coachload the camera of a Norwegian engineer sitting next to me malfunctioned, which I was able to verify for myself.  Also a young Frenchman told me he felt pressure in his forehead when he entered the formation but it left when he exited.  Such feelings are apparently common.  For myself, I felt the kind of expansive peace and happiness that comes from basking in glorious sunshine in the midst of the English countryside.

If nothing else, crop circles make for a stimulating and meaningful exchange of ideas with people drawn to them from all over the world.

 

Shinto nature
The whole issue of energy, vibration and intuition set me off thinking about the similarities with Shinto, which is often thought of as a religion of feeling rather than intellect.   Indeed, the whole ‘we-Japanese-are-emotional-rather-than-rational’ strand in the culture seems to me to stem precisely from a Shintoesque view of the world.  Small wonder then that interest in ‘mystery circles’ (as the crop circles are known) is particularly strong in Japan.

Not surprisingly for a primal religion, it’s the emotional rather than the intellectual viewpoint that Shinto privileges.  It’s the nature of synthetic polytheism to accept contradictory truths, and this underlies the supposed contrast between a logical West and an East of higher truths.

Stepping rhough the circle into another realm

I’ve often found my research running up against a non-existent wall in this regard.  Is the kami in the shrine present in the goshintai (spirit body) the whole time, or does it arrive in the shrine only when requested by the priest at the beginning of rituals?  When the kami is out at a festival in its mikoshi, can one pray to it at the shrine? Why do kami live in one particular rock and not another?  Why doesn’t each separate rock have its own kami?

These are the kind of questions that drove medieval Christians crazy because they were obsessed with finding the one sole truth.  But in terms of Shinto the questions seem ridiculous because they’re rooted in a rational reality.  They’re simply not in the right dimension.  Intuition not intellect governs the realm of the kami.

Dream, myth and meaning
The primary role of intuition helps explain why for Shinto and paganism alike dreams, ‘energy’ and shamanistic visions are all-important.  They are gateways to the invisible world.  Feeling the presence of dead ancestors and sensing the spirit of place underlies both religions.

Sacred space for an invisible world. At its core is nothing but a mirror.

If you go by the number of Shinto shrines in Japan, then Hachiman, Inari and Tenjin are the country’s three most prevalent deities.  Hachiman owes his fame to having appeared in the vision of a shamanistic oracle at Usa.  Inari began with a member of the Hata clan shooting arrows at a rice cake which shape-shifted into a white egret. And Tenjin is the vengeful spirit of exiled politician Sugiwara no Michizane (845-903), who was identified in a dream by a Kyoto woman as causing disasters in the capital.  Clearly there’s not much point in looking for logic here.

Similarly, Shinto puts much store on the kind of ‘energy’ that New Agers like to talk about.  Words have vibrations that resonate with the cosmos (kotodama).  Misogi (water asceticism) is good for spiritual cleansing.  Participation in festivals will bring blessings and harmony to the community. The meaning of all this is simply a belief that something exists outside the mechanical world, something that Arthur Koestler called The Ghost in the Machine.

Meanwhile, I’m still puzzled by those crop circles.  But perhaps there are some things in this world that are simply meant to be left a mystery!

Puzzling over a crop circle: who or what made it? How? Why?

 

Pagan connections 3) Sacred water

Water basins can be found at every Shinto shrine for purifying oneself before entering

Water deities
Gratitude for the blessings of water plays a big part in Shinto, and there are many shrines dedicated to water deities.  Sujin is a composite deity of water, and Ryujin a water dragon particularly associated with the sea.  Around Kyoto, Matsuo and Kibune Shrines are well-known for their watery connections.

Matsuo Shrine was founded by the immigrant Hata clan, who brought saké-brewing techniques from the continent: water for saké is still drawn from the magical Turtle Well.  Kibune Shrine further north is located at the source of the Kibune River, identified by tradition by the mother of Emperor Jimmu who sailed up the stream in a stone boat.  In the past the shrine was associated with rain rituals, and today fortune slips are floated on the water to disclose one’s fate.

It’s often said that water plays a particularly strong part in Shinto consciousness because of rice-growing and the mountainous nature of the country.  Ancient communities were nestled in isolated valleys, and the surrounding hills were alive each spring with the melodious sound of water gushing out of their slopes.  Not only was it vital to wet-rice cultivation, but it had a magical purifying nature.  Misogi (cold water austerity) even provided a means of immersion in the spirit of nature.  It was truly a gift of the gods.

Pagan springs and holy wells

In ancient Britain, as elsewhere, certain springs were treated as sacred and there is evidence of offerings having been made.  The appearance of clear fresh water from deep within the earth must have seemed miraculous and providential. Springs that never failed or ran at a constant temperature would have been venerated for their special properties.

Some of the wells and springs had healing powers, because the waters were rich in iron, calcium or other minerals. Some indeed, like Mother Shipton’s Cave, were so rich in limestone that they ‘petrified’ anything suspended in the water.

It used to be thought that Christianity simply took over pagan sites by substituting stories of saints and miraculous springs.  It was in the tradition of Moses who stuck a staff into the ground and water gushed out.  Now however historians think that the holy wells of Christianity may have developed independently from the pagan springs of ancient times.

Water basin at Chalice Well in Glastonbury with the shape of the Vesica Piscis, to symbolise the meeting of the physical and spiritual worlds

 

Chalice Well ceremony
Today happened to be Water Celebration day, and I attended a ceremony at Glastonbury’s Chalice Well.  It’s unusual in keeping a constant flow and temperature throughout the year.  Moreover, the water has a reddish tint, which led in the past to its association with the Holy Grail.  What on earth is that all about?!

According to legend, Joseph of Arimathea, the uncle of Jesus, came to Avalon (the old name for Glastonbury) after the crucifixion, bringing the Holy Grail with him.  He buried the chalice near the Tor, and the blood of Christ which it contained now runs in perpetuity causing the reddish water of the spring.  The well is kept now as a place of peace and contemplation.

At the ceremony, conducted by an Avalon Goddess priestess, thanks were given for the blessings of water and emphasis put on the need to protect it from pollution.  Water brought from other spiritual places were added to the well, and the eighty or so people attending prayed for purity and meditated on its life-sustaining nature.

Avalonian priestess pouring in sacred water

The Japan connection
The ritual all seemed much in the neo-pagan spirit of contemporary Glastonbury, but I was startled to learn it was the brainchild of Japanese researcher, Emoto Masaru, whose photographs of water molecules have achieved a worldwide fame.

In accord with his assertion that human consciousness affects the structure of water, Emoto has initiated a worldwide Love and Thanks to Water Day on July 25, during which he advocates the reciting of a simple prayer: ‘Water we love you’ (repeated three times); ‘water we thank you’ (repeated three times); ‘water we respect you’ (repeated three times).

Not only the sentiment, but the form of the prayer (3 x 3 as in the Shinto san san kudo wedding ritual) struck me as redolent of the Japanese tradition.  Here in Glastonbury, on this Water Celebration day, was a most unexpected linking of neo-pagan and Shinto sensibilities.
  How apt then that by sheer chance the person next to me with whom I held hands in our circle of silence should have been a Japanese from Kanazawa who had just got off the bus from Bristol and wandered unknowingly up to the well.

Synchronicity in a Steiner-inspired garden!

Water ceremony at Glastonbury, initiated in Japan

 

Crystal clear…
The quest that never ends
At Chalice Well

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For a Youtube demonstration of Emoto’s work, see here.

For an overview of water deities in Japan, see here.

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