Everybody in the world MUST read “The white goddess” by Robert Graves!
It´s a complicated book, nerdish, too many names to remember, too many ancient mythologies and stories and yet again not a single one too many, see; EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED!
Not only the trees who communicate underneath the soil via the mycelium but us, our stories, past, mythologies.
The Ogham alphabet is said to be an ancient celtic system of poetry and memory.
The celts, like the norse, didn’t write their stories down, no, they passed their knowledge on via the spoken word, situated in bodies, situations, relations. Yet they still seemed to have had an alphabet; the alphabet of trees!
This alphabet is said to have been used by the druids and intuitively this just makes so much sense to me not at least regarding the runes (ancient alphabet of the norse)
I study the alphabets these days- as I write my book on asatru and Ragnarók.
I study the alphabets and thus I study the trees.
The Danish word for “letter” is “bogstav” derived from “bøg stav” meaning; staff of beech.
Writing down letters on staffs, carving letters, letters having more than one meaning, meaning more than a sound, a whole system of meaning, intuition, folklore, biology and mythology. In ONE letter!
What I mean to say is; oh, how the world is broad and wide and deep!
I think I have always studied trees, since childhood connected to certain trees, having certain experiences in certain trees (yes, “in”, I used to be a climber), searching out certain kinds of consolations under certain kinds of trees and I always perceived the trees to a kind of large animal … I just never… hmm… systematized these emotions into an actual language. But you can! So I will!
The world is made of layers of liquid matter (I like to throw sentences like this into a conversation) and last night I had an air bubble experience (also a nice sentence, I think) I was awoken in the middle of the night (last night of the full moon), I was awoken by some kind of presence outside. I think it was the storm and I think the storm was alive, I think the storm was a goddess.
I´d been reading all night (“the white goddess”) so my dreams were lucid, liquid, lush and maybe I was still dreaming when I got up, stood by the window for the longest time, staring at the old oak, halfway dreaming, halfway communicating.
Today I planted an elderberry tree.
For me it´s the A, it’s the beginning and this is what it means: