Rise Sister Rise

by Rebecca Campbell

  With a disbelieving laugh I responded, ‘I think I am,’ and then relayed to her what I’d just delegated to the Universe. She then pulled out her phone to text the event organizer Shabadpreet, and 30 seconds later I was booked in.

  The next day I joined a group of 30 turban-wearing yogis to begin chanting our way around the UK’s sacred sites. My breath was taken away again, as I discovered that the tour was not just going to Glastonbury as I thought, but also to Cornwall to St Nectan’s Glen, Merlin’s Cave in Avebury and… wait for it… crop circles too!

  My quick trip of rejuvenation was rapidly turning into an 11-day, life-changing magical adventure, as I kept extending my trip.

  Whole days spent praying, chanting, and connecting with the wisdom of some of the planet’s most sacred sites. Chanting as the sun rises over the Tor, lying on the St Michael and Mary ley lines, and sending my light to the corners of the Earth, meditating in the middle of sacred stones in Avebury, surrendering our creations to the Goddess at St Nectan’s Glen (where myths suggest that the Knights Templar would go to be blessed by the High Priestesses before and after battle) and, most significantly, Merlin’s Cave…

  MERLIN’S CAVE

  Walking into the cave my heart began to palpitate and my body was covered in chills. In an instant I knew my soul had been there before. As I made my way deeper into the dramatic rock-like retreat, I pulled out my phone to take a picture. As I did, I felt a flash of light fly in front of me and above my head. I looked at my phone and saw the shape center front in my photo. Moving further into the cave, I shared it with Madeline. To her disbelief she replied, ‘Me too!’ Comparing our phones we saw the exact same shape appearing like the outline of a man moving above us.

  Looking at each other, something inside us knew that we had been brought together for this moment in time. Wearing knee-high rubber boots, we waded through the icy dark waters and over a sea of jagged rocks to the other side of the cave where the sky and ocean meet. With moody waves crashing at our feet it was impossible not to feel the power of the elements coming together in potent force. Climbing up to a flat rock sheltered above, we joined hands and began to meditate together.

  Soon after closing my eyes, I had a vision of us in my mind’s eye: part of a group of Priestess initiates at the end of our training. Before us was Merlin and another woman. Madeline, the other initiates, and I were overcome with a sense of fear and trepidation at the thought of going out into the world. We knew that after this day we would be leaving the protective bubble of our guides and sisters behind us to venture back out into the world at a time of much turmoil.

  Merlin’s energy was fierce and forceful as he spoke to us in a way that was both relevant then and today.

  It is time to go out into the world and share what you have

  learned, what we have taught you, what you came here to

  do. Now is not the time to cower, now is the time to rise.

  Now is not the time to have your head in the clouds, now is

  the time to claim your potency, ground your light and lead

  with conviction. To do as you have been trained to. To do

  the work that you were born to do. To lead, lead, lead.

  He then looked at me as if addressing me in current time and said:

  The burning times are over. The time of doing

  this work alone or underground has come to an

  end. You do not need to hide anymore.

  This is the age that we have been working for. So pull

  yourself together, stand tall, rise up and lead. All of the

  lifetimes of training has been for now. You are held

  by many. Call upon them and all that you have been

  taught through the ages, for it has been for this exact

  moment in time. Go forth and lead, lead, lead.

  And then all of a sudden, he was gone.

  I opened my eyes to discover I was sobbing. Madeline squeezed my hand and I found her in the same state. Relaying what had just happened to each other, we discovered that we had had the same experience.

  Leaving the cave Madeline and I shared our pictures with the rest of the group, who had also been taking photos in the cave at the same time. The figure of light only appeared in Madeline’s and my photographs.

  WHITE SPRINGS RITUAL

  Craig and I were to be married in December in Australia, and leading up to the wedding I felt a deep yearning to honor the transition I was about to make, as I crossed the threshold into womanhood. My friend and commissioning editor Amy Kiberd asked me if I was planning to have a hen party in the UK before leaving and I confessed that I had been avoiding it but what I would really love is an intimate ritual. Amy suggested she organize it. I said, ‘YES!’

  A month later, Amy, Hollie Holden, Lisa Lister, and I all piled into Hollie’s car and made our way to Glastonbury to hold a ritual the next day at the White Springs.

  We arrived at an ancient guesthouse, where Joseph of Arimathea* is reputed to have been a regular, stopping over on his journeys to the Isle of Avalon.

  Greeted by a strapping young man wearing very tight white jodhpurs, we all tried to hold back our teenage-girl laughter, as he escorted us (four grown women) to the family room we had opted for, because… sleepover!

  We opened the door to discover a heavily floral-clad room. Floral bedspreads, floral wallpaper, floral chairs, floral pillows, two floral single beds, and a floral canopy over the smallest double bed on Earth, where Amy and Lisa would end up sleeping that night.

  Under the floral canopy slumber party style, Amy pulled out a gourmet array of snacks and champagne. The perfect start to what would become a regular ‘Spiritual Sleepover Sisterhood’ (The SSS), consisting of the spectacular combination of great food, conscious company, and ritual.

  The next morning we sat together in circle. Adorned with handwritten wishes, blessings, and symbolic gifts, we passed a red egg (symbolizing my womb and ability as a woman to create both within and outside my body) around the circle, whispering wishes into it.

  I was asked to share my intention for the ritual: To step into my power as a woman, unbind myself from those things that are no longer mine to carry, and break the chain so I could enter the marriage as a woman one-in-herself. Hollie, Lisa, and Amy listened deeply. I never felt so held and so heard.

  A flower crown was placed upon my head and I was told what the ritual would entail. These incredible women would hold the space and highest intention for me to reclaim any lost pieces of my power and voice as a woman, as I moved between them and through each stage of womanhood. Amy, Hollie, and Lisa would each embody one of the archetypes of the Triple Goddess: Amy as the Maiden, Hollie as the Mother, Lisa as the Crone, and me as the Wise, Wild Woman who would be transitioning throughout.

  Their ability and willingness to be in complete service to my unbinding and rising was deeply humbling and moving. Before we left, I burst into tears, in deep gratitude for them being so truly there. Even before the ritual had taken place, they had expanded my capacity to receive.

  I confessed that I had been craving this kind of circle, this sisterhood, my whole life and that it would be my deepest honor to be able to do the same for each of them. They affirmed that they had been craving it too and were receiving it by being there – the power of women circling. Magic was already being woven.

  Arriving at the White Springs, we were greeted by one of the keepers, who escorted us inside and locked the door behind us. With a bang of the door, I was reminded how haunting the acoustics can be in there. Surrounded by candlelight, we stepped into the dark womb-like cave at the belly of the Tor to the soundtrack of the springs thundering before and below us. It was freezing in there yet a light we could feel but not see warmed us. As we walked deeper into the springs, I was overcome with a feeling in the depths of my own womb. She had already started moving through me. I had no idea that I was about to have one of the most powerful experiences of my life, one that would set off a chain of eve
nts both for me and in my female line.

  In the three corners of the White Springs are altars devoted to different parts of the feminine and masculine. The front left corner is devoted to the Maiden, as represented by Celtic Goddess Brighid. The far left corner is devoted to the Mother, with a shrine to the black Madonna (linked to the Magdalene consciousness and Kali) and a well above, where the ancient witches were initiated. The back right corner, devoted to the horned God, which for me also holds the energy of the Crone.

  Glastonbury is one of two places on the planet where the white (masculine) and red (feminine) come together – the other is Mount Shasta in California in the USA. Some say that the White Springs hold the sacred masculine energies while the red springs of the Chalice Well hold the sacred feminine. But to me, and particularly on this day, the White Springs embody the unclaimed feminine – the darker, fierce, wild, powerful parts of us that have been bound and are once more waiting to rise. And in order for us to truly rise and find our true light, we often need to journey dark and deep. Which was exactly why I was there.

  As we stood in a circle in front of the main circular well, Lisa initiated the ritual by first calling upon Craig’s energy to protect and hold the space. Calling upon the water element pounding around us to assist in moving the energies that were ready to flow, we invoked the Goddess Magdalene consciousness, subtle beings, and all the women and Priestesses who had come before us doing the work of the feminine. We stated our intention and invited in their support.

  Lisa lit the cauldron at the edge of the well, invoking the energy of the dark mother Kali and then began beating her drum. The rhythmic sound reverberating through our bodies and through the entire space felt like the mother’s heartbeat vibrating through us in unison. We could feel the energies rising.

  One by one we began chanting our own unique songs, inviting the energies to move through us by using our bodies as conduits. Held by the presence of all the women who had ever come together in circle in honor of what is falling away and what is rising, I was overcome with emotion at what was taking place and these three women’s ability to allow it to move through them so selflessly. I could feel the Shakti serpent ecstatically weaving through me. Acutely aware of how long it had taken me to journey here and all of the wise women who had supported me along the way, I could feel them, too, standing alongside me.

  Amy, Hollie, and Lisa then dispersed to the three corners of the sacred cave and, as a trinity, began to sing their own unique songs. They were not singing, they were being sung. Their voices echoed and hit all the corners of my heart and womb. With an intentional first step, I began my journey from Maiden to Mother to Wise, Wild Woman to Crone in surrender to what was falling away and in deep reverence for what was ready to rise.

  Entering the nest of the Maiden, I found Amy surrounded by candles. She invited me to sit with her on a log, under a canopy of branches. Looking into her eyes, I saw my younger self mirrored back. The playful, adventurous, inspired, excitable, big-hearted Maiden so committed and determined to work hard and always do her best.

  I was moved to tears as I saw a sadness and depletion in her eyes. From all of the times I had denied her the nourishment and holding she so craved. For pushing her so hard to hurry and grow up. Her young, playful spirit that I had not allowed to roam free. I took her hands and told her how sorry I was for pushing her so hard. For making her feel guilty when she needed to rest. For making her feel like what she was doing was never enough. I told her that I was so sorry for denying and not appreciating this part of myself for so long. I confessed that I knew I needed to move on, but didn’t know how to without cutting her off. She took my hand and lovingly led the way.

  Feeling the replenished, playful, and joyous strength of the Maiden behind me, I stepped over the threshold toward the Mother. My heart softened and opened wide as Hollie sang, ‘Now I walk in beauty. Beauty is before me. Beauty is behind me. Above and below me.’

  With mascara all over my face and my flower crown all wonky, I fell into Hollie’s arms and allowed myself to be wholly and completely held. Up until that point I didn’t realize how much my Maiden had been carrying. Hollie placed my face in her hands and lovingly wiped the tears from my cheeks.

  Assisted by the pounding water behind us, I let go of all resistance, allowing my whole body weight to be held by the Mother. While my soul already knew that the Universe held me, it was as if in that moment the human part of me, my body, finally caught up.

  Hollie continued singing and rocking me, as if to say, ‘I know, I know. Let me hold you. You can rest here.’ In her arms, I could feel her voice and heartbeat echoing through my body. And for I have no idea how long, allowed myself to be rocked and nourished by the Great Mother of us all.

  I knew that I could retreat to this nurturing nest at any time but now was the time to journey on. I heard the whispers of one of my favorite quotes by Clarissa Pinkola Estés:

  ‘When a great ship is in harbour and moored,

  it is safe, there can be no doubt. But… that

  is not what great ships are built for.’

  Seeing that I would prefer to stay in the Mother’s nest, but knowing that I was ready Hollie gave me a gentle but firm and encouraging push.

  Held by the loving strength and support of my Maiden and Mother, I left the warmth and stepped into my power, as the Wise, Wild Woman. Completely held and nourished by my Maiden and Mother I felt the subtle energy change, as I stepped over yet another threshold back to the front of the well. Something had shifted. I felt strong. Powerful and held in a different way than before.

  In front of the well I began to chant and dance, releasing any part of me that was bound up and caged. Shakti surged through me, as I swayed and kicked my wild woman, my too much woman, my ancient wise woman back into my body, made possible by the presence of my three sisters forming a triangle around me.

  Just as I finished there was a knock at the door, my signal that it was time to move on, that the outside world was beckoning.

  As I made my way around the corner to the depths of the Crone I fell to my knees. My forehead at Lisa’s feet, I surrendered to the Crone’s wisdom, her potency, her perspective, and capacity not to care about what the world thinks. As I stood back up, she held me in my potency. She placed her hand on my third eye, throat, and then womb, as if to unlock my power as a woman to intuit, speak, and create, and to do so fearlessly.

  As we made our way back to the center where it all began, the door flung open and light flooded in. It felt like I had died a hundred deaths and was reborn just as many times. I looked around at my dear sisters, my breath taken from me upon realization that I was not the only one who had been transformed.

  Linked by hands, entwined by spirit, our bodies vibrating from what had just taken place.

  A pause in our lives where time stood still and the veil got really thin. Breathing deeply, our eyes said all that words could not.

  Tourists began flooding in, no idea of the ritual that had just taken place. Did that really just happen?

  My mind so blown that my legs barely worked. Having to concentrate to put one foot in front of the other. We ventured up Well House Lane, the only word each of us could utter was

  ‘Whoa.’

  * * *

  * Legend suggests that Joseph of Arimathea was Mother Mary’s uncle, thus Jesus’ great uncle. Legend says that Joseph traveled to Britain with the young Jesus, and after the Crucifixion brought the Holy Grail to Glastonbury and established the first Christian church here.

  HEALING THE FEMALE LINE

  A week later back in Australia, in the lead-up to our wedding, Craig and I hired a wedding planner in an attempt to make sure Mum slowed down and put herself first so she could concentrate on her healing. But she still seemed to be going a million miles an hour, putting everyone before herself.

  I was setting up for a one-day retreat. The retreat was down the road from my childhood home and the same location I would be getting married at t
he next week. Dad arrived to lend a hand and apologized that Mum couldn’t be there, as she was resting.

  Delighted that Mum was finally putting her own wellbeing first, I cheered inside then heard a crunch, as my left ankle twisted beneath me. Not the best timing when you’ll be walking down the aisle in heels six days later. But knowing that the left side of the body represented the female line, I knew there was something bigger at play. After the retreat, I looked at my copy of You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay and discovered that the ankle represents ‘our ability to receive without guilt.’

  The next day I hobbled to my hen’s party on Sydney Harbor. Having already spoken to Mum about the timing and interpretation of my injury, we were spooked to discover that my half-sister Kylie had injured her left ankle too. If that coincidence was not enough, Nanna Peg then arrived (Mum’s mum) and we discovered she had injured her left leg too!

  Three generations of women, surrounding my mum, all with the injuries on the left side of their body – the feminine side. The feminine line. Something was happening. I texted my SSS ladies to tell them the news. Their response? ‘Whoa.’

  THE CHAIN

  After the wedding, Craig returned to London and I stayed on to spend time with Mum.

  On the morning before returning to London I went to Yin Yoga with Mum, Sheila, and Robyn. During the class I discovered the necklace that I wear every single day had broken. On inspection, I noticed that the chain had broken in two leaving a single link lying there free on its own.

  After the class Robyn noticed that my necklace was missing. We couldn’t see how it could have possibly broken, and yet, one of the links was separate from the chain.

  Baffled, the four of us walked across the road to a café. As soon as I sat down I turned to Robyn holding the broken chain and extra link in my hand and said: ‘I broke the chain!’