Transforming Sacred Space: Conscious Evolution
For many people, the term “Sacred Space” brings up images of a church, synagogue or mosque: a hallowed space where people gather together to meditate, pray, sing and worship. As a polytheist and animist following the Heathen spiritual traditions of my Ancestors, I experience the world around me as sacred, especially as I relate to Nature. We sacralize objects and places through our intent and how we relate to them. I view the woods around my cottage at TwoTrees as holy, and I experience rich GEBO – sacred reciprocity – as I steward this land, receiving in turn shelter, peace, instruction and revelation.
When my partner and I were first led to this land in late January of 2000, we knew immediately that we would treat the Landvaettir or spirit of the land as the third partner in our marriage, honoring this spirit’s needs as we do each other’s. It was our decision to spend time studying the complex dance of Life on these rugged Saura hills before felling the first tree. We started by coming out from town every chance we got and just observing. Where did the moon and sun rise and set through the course of the year? What were the weather patterns, the winds, the drainages? What creatures shared this land and where were their dens and trails? And we began to leave offerings: apples for the deer and chipmunks, birdseed, berries and champagne for the water sprites who inhabited a deep eddy of Town Fork Creek below the cliffs. (Hey – they were delighted!)
Once we felt we could do so without harming anything, we worked with a neighbor to build a 12 by 16 foot shed-roofed building in a small clearing overlooking the bluff. The building was raised on pilings, so as not to impair the drainage and minimize impact, with a south-facing dark roof for passive solar gain. We brought out a futon and often spent the night on weekends, as we sought guidance from the Landvaettir on where and how to build our cottage.
TwoTrees Treehouse amidst the hemlocks
Eventually the cottage was built, and we moved in late in 2004. The treehouse building became my jewelry and metalsmithing studio. Since I placed much sacred symbolism and intent in the work I created, I consecrated the building, creating within it a sacred and energetic architecture that helped to fuel and support my work. For many years, I had the pleasure of creating beautiful, magical items that went forth from my hands to bring healing and pleasure to others.
In 2015, my life changed radically when I nearly died following surgery to remove my cancerous thyroid. I was left with a hand tremor and vision issues which made it impossible for me to continue my career as a sacred smith. At the same time, I experienced a deep calling into a new form of sacred work and now some six years later, my Treehouse is undergoing transformation, too.
My shamanic practice and work as a Gythja or priestess of Freyja has really gotten busy and I’ve needed a dedicated space in which to see and work with clients. The birthing of this new space couldn’t begin until I was willing to let go of the space as a jewelry studio, releasing the sacred energies that supported that work. Having done this, I’m truly excited to see this vaulted, sun-dappled space transformed. The utilitarian wallboard and battered vinyl tile floor will be replaced, and I will have a dedicated sacred space to house my shrines and altars, my books, shaman’s coat, headgear and drums, with a massage table for energy work and a space for divination.
The heart of that sacred space arrived today: a beautiful, jewel-like carpet, handwoven by Kurdish artisans about fifty years ago. In its artistry and deep, saturated colors, I see reflections of the good red earth, the grassy steppes and high mountain forests, the scudding white clouds against the lapis-blue sky. When it arrived I unwrapped it carefully, recaning (smudging) it with the spicy smoke of rosemary to cleanse and bless it. As I unfolded it, I began to sing a spontaneous song of welcome, blessing the shepherds, the shearers, the dyers and spinners, and the weavers – all those people whose hard work and loving care lay embodied before me. In time, this beautiful carpet will hold the heart of my new sacred space, linking it with Nature once again, and with traditions and creative folk far away.