Avalon Within

by Jhenah Telyndru

  The Station of Confrontation in the Cycle of the Sun

  In the heart of winter, the Celtic Britons subsisted on what they had in their stores and never traveled far from their homesteads because of the weather. Their attention was instead taken by what was needed in the home; they focused on repairs, weaving, and planning for the coming growing season. We too look within to see where the roots of our pain begin, and to plan for our healing. We cannot apply a cure when the source of the hurt is unknown. Gwyl Mair (Imbolc) is a time of expectant stillness, knowing that we have done all that we can this Cycle to see what lies unconscious within us. We can begin the upwards climb toward the Light Half of the Cycle, in motion once more, but only through commitment to the revelation of what we have worked to discover.

  The Station of Confrontation is of extreme importance in women’s Soul Work. Having undertaken the journey into the self at the Station of Descent, Confrontation marks the stillness before re-emergence. It takes great courage to immerse oneself in the darkness of the shadow, seeking out all that lies hidden, and working to reveal the mechanisms of the lower self. These revelations can heal the wounds that have motivated our actions and colored our perspectives. Armed with the knowledge that comes from exposing the root of our pain, we can begin the ascent, bringing our once-hidden issues with us back up into the light of consciousness.

  This Station embodies the deepest depths of the Dark Half—the nadir of the Cycle and the very bottom of the Cauldron. The work of Confrontation is to come face to face with the core of the shadow aspect being sought. We must delve into the darkness so that we may see and name that which holds us back—there is great power in that naming. Facing the root wounding allows the freeing of psychic energy otherwise tied up in perpetuating lower self impulses. We can cease engaging in compensatory behaviors, allowing our actions and perspectives to better reflect our true selves.

  The depth of the descent sets the height of the ascent; we can only reach as far up as we are willing to dig down. It is important to work to push past our limitations when confronting the shadow, for the more we are able to see of our wounds, the greater our capacity to heal. The energy released through the act of Confrontation is the resource from which the new self is created. To be sure, it takes great courage to look within, but the universe will not present to you what you are not yet ready to see. Everything is keyed to honor the seeker’s limitations. Plumbing the inner depths will bring us as close to the root of our issue as can be processed with the tools at hand; we will never be given a burden greater than our ability to carry. That said, processing inner discoveries with a therapist, a trusted friend, or a circle of Sisters can contribute greatly to the individual process, especially when the need for support and encouragement are strong—growth and change are hard work.

  This Station is where we sit in our stillness of honest self-contemplation and undertake the great magick of reweaving the pattern of our inner tapestry and setting our course to wholeness. Confrontation is aligned with the energies of solar Aquarius: drastic and sudden change, inquiry, and insight; and lunar Leo: reflecting the inner flame of transformation in order to understand the center of the self.

  The Station of Confrontation in the Cycle of the Moon—Dark Moon

  The dark moon phase lasts from the day of dark moon until three days after. During this phase, the moon’s face is hidden by the shadow of the Earth, and so its familiar disk cannot be seen, except on the occasion of a solar eclipse. The dark moon rises and sets with the sun. Energetically, this is a time for turning within, confronting the shadow, and banishing negativity.

  Self-reflective Questions for the Station of Confrontation

  Take some time to meditate upon these questions while in a clear and receptive space. Use your replies to help form a focus for the work of the Station of Confrontation. Be sure to record your thoughts in a journal—this will help you chart your process of growth and change as you do the work of the Avalonian Cycle of Healing.

  What keeps you anchored in negativity, hurt, pain, and suffering?

  What is your first response to a confrontational situation? Do you address the issue head on, or revert to a defense mechanism? When and why did you begin to use these methods of protection? How have these affected your quality of life?

  What do you consider ugly about yourself—physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually? When did you learn to despise these aspects of yourself? How would your life be different if you could change how you felt about these things? What keeps you from making these changes?

  What would be the most frightening thing you could come to discover or realize about yourself? How would this affect you? Is there any truth in this fear? What makes you feel this way?

  What is the worst-case manifestation of your greatest fear? How would this affect your life? Is this a fear you learned from someone else? If so, is it truly relevant to your everyday life?

  If your life would be completely transformed by changing one thing about yourself, what would that thing be? In what ways would your life be different? How can you manifest this change in your life?

  The Avalonian Landscape: The Tor

  alternative names: Tor Hill, Glastonbury Tor

  cycle of healing: Station of Confrontation

  cauldron transformation: Hare/Greyhound

  elemental alignment: Earth

  energy center: Root

  The most commanding feature of Avalonian landscape is undoubtedly the enigmatic Tor, the center of Confrontation and the deepest point of the Cycle in the landscape. Rising to a height of over five hundred feet, the recumbent body of the Tor can be seen from a distance of twenty-five miles away; there is nothing like it in all of Somerset. For all its height and rarity, the most distinctive quality of the Tor is its terracing. It is possible the terraces are natural in origin, created by instability of the Tor’s geologic makeup; these were later augmented or used as they were for agricultural pursuits in medieval times.

  Alternatively, the Tor’s undulating pathway may be what remains of a three-dimensional labyrinth created as a massive earthwork in the Neolithic period, around the same time as the Avebury complex. If so, the Tor Labyrinth is truly unique in scope and dimension. Taking the form of the seven circuit pattern called the Cretan or Classical labyrinth, a configuration seen the world over, it is the only such example created in three dimensions. Even archaeologists cannot discount the theory that the terraces on the Tor were once a massive labyrinthine earthwork; indeed, the Tor Labyrinth can still be walked today.

  Perhaps both theories are true; the medieval usage of the Tor could well be agricultural, usurping its earlier usage as a sacred Pagan site. It is well known that other earthworks and stones from circles and henge monuments were reclaimed for building projects long after their original usage was forgotten. This is just one example of the many paradoxical dualities making up the Tor’s essence.

  Climbing its steep slopes, one is confronted with buffeting winds, wild and unsettling. Yet, even as one spirals up towards the crest of the Tor, there is an unmistakable magnetism, pulling one’s energy down into its very bowels. It is disconcerting to be pulled upward and downward at the same time, and yet through this seemingly irreconcilable polarity, the Tor’s power reveals itself.

  Dual energy lines encircle the hill, following the path of the terraces, and merging near its apex. Feminine and masculine energies meet, symbolized by the Mary and Michael Lines—a geomantic resonance of the red and white dragons of British myth. Here then, on the slopes of the Tor, we experience the alchemical mingling of energy in this Sacred Landscape that sets the tone for the transformative power of place.

  Red and white are the colors of the Celtic Otherworld. The merging of these two energies—and the Tor holding the place in the Cycle between the Red and White Springs of Avalon—creates a fitting portal into the chthonic powers associated with t
he Tor as a Gateway into the Underworld, the Celtic Realm known as Annwn. Ancient lore tells us that Gwyn ap Nudd—Light, Son of Night—rode out from his Otherworldly kingdom through the Tor, calling the spirits of those who had died to join the Wild Hunt with his white-bodied, red-eared hounds at his side. Interestingly, there is a long-standing legend of a cavern complex existing beneath the Tor, and that an entrance to these subterranean features can be found somewhere on its slopes.

  Such an underground system of tunnels would further reinforce the “as above, so below” duality evoked by the energy of the Tor. On its surface winds the ancient processional way, recalling the stirring of Ceridwen’s Cauldron. In walking this three-hour moving meditation, the women of ancient Avalon spun the landscape energies coursing through the ley lines up to the top of this earthwork spindle, all the while delving down deeper into the self. Once at the top and deeply entranced, the priestesses could connect more fully with the Lady and divine the needs of the Sacred Realm of Albion, the Spirit of the Island of Britain (Ynys Prydein), entrusted into their keeping.

  The Three-Dimensional Tor Labyrinth—

  After a drawing by Kathy Jones

  The present-day tower standing on the Tor’s crest dramatically punctuates the power of center. This last remnant of the second Christian monastic complex built upon the hill in the fourteenth century serves a powerful energetic purpose. Indeed, this may be the reason it endured when other buildings erected on the Tor have long given way to fire, earthquake, and Dissolution. St. Michael’s Tower, without roof or doors, serves as a stone conduit at the Tor’s energetic apex. The tower is a physical- world manifestation of the World Tree of Shamanic cosmologies that intensifies and focuses energies which course through it. The tower is the bridge between the realms, and by crossing this, the seeker can journey through time and space, and confront the very center of her existence.

  Immram to the Tor of Avalon

  The Tor of Avalon resonates most strongly with the energies of the Station of Confrontation in the Avalonian Cycle of Healing. This Station marks the nadir of the Dark Half of the Cycle, and represents our complete immersion into the realm of the Unconscious.

  Stepping through the portal of this Station, we commit ourselves to acknowledging the root causes of our pain and naming the source of the involuntary manifestations of shadow in our lives. Use this holy site to unearth the root cause of the soul wounds hidden at the the core of your being. Clear away self-deceptions that block your sight, so you may look into this spiritual underworld with honesty and without fear. The ultimate treasure of the soul is found through the reclamation of energies tied up in our pain. The greatest growth occurs in the darkness.

  Perform the Immram to the Island of Avalon as described on p. 55. After disembarking the Barge to Avalon, proceed with the rest of this working.

  The Journey

  It is midnight. Stepping off the Barge that transported you across the glassy lake to the Holy Isle, you meet your guide waiting for you on the shores of Avalon. Greet your guide. Share your reason for undertaking this journey. State your desire to visit the Tor and ask to be guided there.

  Crystalline shards of frost crunch beneath your feet as you are led over the frozen ground through the heart of the orchards. The twisted apple tree limbs lift their skeletal arms skyward, as if to touch the cold and distant light of the stars shining in the moonless winter sky.

  The hilly terrain slopes up and then down again, finally causing the slumbering body of the Tor to rise gently over the landscape. Take note of what you see along your path as you follow your guide to the foot of the imposing spiraled hill. At the mouth of the serpentine path are two stone markers, each carved with intricate and ancient designs. You feel drawn to touch the patterns, and find they have been made smooth by the finger tracings of countless pilgrims. You notice a walking staff propped up against the stone to your left. Sensing it is for you, you take it and examine the powerful glyphs etched into the yew wood. It feels solid in your hand, and you test your weight against it—it will be a perfect companion for what lies ahead.

  Your guide steps aside, leaving you to stand alone between the guardian stones; it is clear that you must walk the rest of the way in solitude. Take a moment to revisit your purpose for making this journey. What insights do you seek at the heart of the labyrinth … the heart of the Tor … the heart of the self? Connect with the essence of the matter, concentrating on your breath to bring you clear focus. Release all fears, doubts and expectations. With a deep breath, plant your feet firmly on the path, and pass through the portal stones. Your journey begins.

  One foot … then the other … you begin the ascent. Up and up and up you climb … each step brings you higher up the hill … and deeper within yourself. Every footfall becomes a rhythmic heartbeat, drumming your intention into the core of Holy Tor—reverberating in the sacred core of your soul. Every step awakens the energies of the landscape, and the twin coils of the Red and White Dragons of Albion arise in your wake. Encircling the sacred hill, the dragon lines empower the purpose of your journey, as you move with them through the sinuous terracing of the Tor.

  Immerse yourself in these ancient and holy tracks of force—once stirred by countless priestesses in procession—once borne by humble pilgrims in solitude. Flowing around you and weaving their way to the hilltop, the energy currents begin to take on lives of their own. They appear powerful, moving you up the hill of their own accord, and you fall deeper into trance. Round and round, up and down, hill top and soul bottom … paths curving back upon themselves … the crest approaches, only to be taken once more from your line of sight by the next spin of the labyrinthine pathway.

  Though leaden, your feet seem to move without conscious effort. You keep steady on the pathway aided by your yew staff, impelled forward with each breath. Dizzy with energy and confused by the endless series of twists and turns, you have lost track of time in the walking. The wind whips around you, sometimes chasing you up the path, other times causing you to struggle against its invisible resistance, holding you back from reaching the top of the Tor. The moonless sky is deep with stars, and shimmers, beckoning you forward—past the cold, through the dark, against the protests of your weary body.

  Time passes … the stars move above you … And still you walk.

  In and out.

  Up and down.

  Through and around again.

  Spinning and weaving the energy up and back into itself.

  At last, you find yourself making the final turn, bringing the crest of the Tor directly into your line of sight. Take a deep breath and proceed forward—each moment carries you closer and closer to the top. As you walk, the top of a standing stone comes into view, growing larger as you approach. Still others appear in your periphery, and at last you have reached the pinnacle. You draw a deep breath at the sight of what awaits you. With your eyes, take in all you can of the sacred precinct atop the Tor of Avalon.

  You feel drawn to one of the enormous stones before you. With reverence, you walk forward and stretch your hand out to touch its lichen-mottled surface. The energy you have brought with you through the snaking pathway up the hill now courses through you and into the stone, and through it, into the others standing nearby. The entire breast of the hill is suddenly illuminated with the brilliance of the energy, almost blinding you with its intensity. You remove your hand from the stone to shield your face from the light, and just as suddenly, you are plunged into darkness.

  Your eyes struggle to regain focus, and slowly notice a soft green-tinged glow. A few moments pass and you can see well enough to note that the vault of the sky has been replaced by the ghostly fingers of dripping stalactites above you, damply straining to meet the rising stalagmites below them. Somehow or other, you now find yourself in a cavern filled with a faint phosphorescence and the distant sounds of flowing water. You begin to move forward in the darkness, drawn towards an a
rea of increased light. Moving slowly over the damp ground, and feeling your way through the forest of cave formations, you sense that you are less in a single cave than you are in a system of subterranean tunnels. With that consciousness, you suddenly feel—rather than see—the space in front of you open up into a large chamber.

  You enter, tentatively, and feel the space brighten the further you move into the cavern. From out of the shadows, you catch an occasional glimmer of light or an odd glint of a sparkle. Though still dim, the light becomes strong enough for you to make out the fossil and crystal formations encrusting the walls and stone pillars of the cavern. The ground slopes downward from all sides, creating the effect of an underworld

  basin. As your feet take you forward and downward gently, you catch a glimpse of movement in the middle of the chamber.

  Walking towards the center, you call out into the darkness, asking who is there. Silence and the quickening of your heartbeat are your only replies. You feel driven to announce your name and the reason for your journey. This time, your words echo around the chamber, each crystal facet reflecting the energy of your words back upon themselves until they are absorbed in the shadows. The chamber becomes silent once more. You take three steps forward and find yourself in the lowest point of the cavern.