Seven Steps back to the Heart of the Earth
How Avalon has led me - step by step - back to my power
With less than three months to go until Project Earthwork arrives back in Glastonbury for our Grail Gates of Gaia weekend workshop, I’ve been thinking a lot about the town known as the Heart Chakra of the world.
After all, though this will be Project Earthwork’s second visit to the mystical land of Avalon, last year’s incredible workshop definitely wasn’t my first visit to the town – a place that has held me through all manner of experiences over the years.
Yet in my experience, Glastonbury does more than simply hold us whenever we visit. To coin a phrase from Charlie in our most recent Project Earthwork video, the town has a habit of pointing me towards the next right step.
And at the times those steps have felt too terrifying, perhaps even too impossible to take? Glastonbury has taken my hand and led me that way. Let me explain by taking you on a journey through my seven trips so far
2007: Grounding past cool
It was the place that everyone who was anyone at spent at least one long weekend yet not one I ever thought I'd be cool enough to do for myself until 2007 when I made my way down to Worthy Farm rammed into a car with a good friend and the two (yes two, and no, that was not a wise move) men I was dating.
I know, the farm is a good few miles from the town and locals tend to detest Glastonbury Festival and the chaos it brings. Yet 24-year-old me didn’t know that yet, and as I stared at the Tor on the horizon, was filled with disappointment that I couldn’t combine a trip to the town that seemed to pull at my heart with this oh-so-cool weekend trip.
The festival was great of course; the music and the atmosphere were amazing, and I don't think I'll ever forget standing in a crowded field on the last night, so much water in my wellies that I was convinced I would get trench foot, watching The Who close out the weekend. But that isn’t my biggest memory of that first trip to the area of Avalon.
No, my biggest memory is one of a teenager playing at being an adult; of shame over the drama my romantic entanglements were causing, frustration at just how cold and wet I felt as soon as the Sun set, and of humiliation at the time an older stranger declared she wanted to wrestle me, then grabbed me by the hair and pulled me face first into the mud. (What can I say? Somebody really wanted me to get up close and personal with that Avalonian Earth.)
I ended the trip feeling anything but cool, and as we passed signs for the town I hadn’t yet managed to visit, deep within my heart I heard a whisper:
“Come back when you grow up.”
2010ish: Afraid and alone
Back from a solo trip around the world and feeling the mundanity of daily life stretching out ever further in front of me, I decided it was time to test myself once again with a shorter solo trip.
So, on a day off between a work trip to London and a weekend in Wales with the guy I was seeing, I stopped stop off in Glastonbury for two nights and one day of exploration that would fill my Soul and entertain my hippy heart. Or that was the plan.
Instead my lasting memory of that trip is one of fear. Fear when I climbed off a bus outside the Town Hall and found an unknown man directly behind me as I walked the two dark streets to my b&b; and fear when I set off to find the Tor and instead found myself terrified of taking a wrong turn and rushing back to the busy safety of the High Street.
So instead I spent a day in the centre of town; exploring the abbey and then journeying from shop to shop to spend money I didn’t have on crystals I thought would awaken the powerful part of me I knew was in there but couldn’t quite seem to reach.
The next day when I boarded another bus, my case was laden with books and crystals but my heart was heavier still. It carried a sadness that perhaps my adventuring days were over — that the courageous woman I’d glimpsed on the other side of the world couldn’t exist here in my own land. But maybe worse than that was the disappointment. Disappointment that this magical town hadn’t suddenly awakened me to become the magical soul I truly felt I was meant to be in this lifetime… whatever that might mean.
And as the bus drove on, away from the Tor I still hadn’t managed to reach, Glastonbury herself seemed to whisper to me.
“The courage is yours to claim, not mine to give. Come back when you’ve found it.”
2017: Where so much began
Deep in my trauma cave and facing the breakdown of the business I’d run with someone I thought I could trust, I received a phone call from a teacher I was both intimidated and inspired by:
“I’m going to a workshop on the dark Goddess this weekend in Glastonbury. I feel like you should be there.”
At first I said no. My dog Kali was starting to get poorly, I was skint, and travelling 300+ miles on a whim just wasn’t something I did nowadays.
Yet four days later — Mary Magdalene’s Feast Day no less — I was starting my day by finally climbing Glastonbury Tor; buzzing with excitement from my crown to my flip flop-wearing feet as I broke through the famous mists of Avalon and met sunrise at the top of the hill.
I spent the day in a workshop that was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before; one I’m STILL learning from eight years later. When we broke for lunch I headed off to eat beautiful food with a precious teacher who became a friend, and when I set off to drive home that night, it felt like every cell in my body was alive with something I’d long been waiting to remember for myself. The proof? When I stopped at a service station halfway home only to find Rhiannon by Stevie Nicks playing as I walked through the strangely grand doorway into the toilets.
Perhaps that was the day Glastonbury herself first welcomed me back as her student; taking my hand as she whispered the codes and keys that would lead me ever deeper into the work and the life a part of me had always known was mine to own.
And as Stevie sang her heart out to me, I swear I heard another voice in my ear out of the town that day I almost felt her voice as it whispered in my ear whispering from some 150 miles away:
“Come back when you're ready to walk the path you've learned and taught.”
2018: The declaration
Less than a year later I was back with the same teacher and a group of women we had journeyed with for almost six months.
We did everything you would expect from a ritual trip to Glastonbury; we sang at the beautiful Chalice Well, laid roses on the Abbey’s Lady’s Temple, and plunged naked together in the White Spring.
Yet more port and still with the sacred moments I made for myself; eating curry on top of the Tor with women I’d come to love as the sun set on the horizon and locals drummed around us; shopping on the High Street with a woman I’d once been so in awe of who I now recognised as a Soul Sister for life; and climbing to the top of Wearyall Hill amidst the morning mists, only to realise that as the boots which had carried me around the world had sprung a leak and were inviting me to step into a brand new chapter of adventures.
That weekend I got a tattoo of the famous vesica piscis combined with the red thread of sisterhood and five stars for the time I’d spent with those wonderful women. It was intended as a celebration, an honouring of what had passed. But even as the ink first touched my skin, I knew it was a declaration, and a promise to Glastonbury and all of those across time and space who were connected by the thread of this place.
And this time when I left Glastonbury, the voice I heard was tinged with a smile as the town of herself told me:
“I see you and when you return I will meet you. Come back when you know what you're here to do.”
2020: When shit got serious
For years I had been planning a series of books set in Glastonbury (they’re stil in the works – others just jumped ahead!), so in the time between lockdowns my dog Kali and I headed down to spend two weeks in Glastonbury. The trip was part research and part exploration to see if I could live away from Northumberland; to see if perhaps this beautiful town that just kept calling me back was a place I could call home.
Glastonbury met me as she had promised, but not as a friend waiting to welcome me to a home; not even as a source of inspiration supporting me to coax out the stories that were growing within me. No, Glastonbury met me as a warrior — one who stood fiercely beside me as I battled what I hadn’t even realised would be waiting.
Together we faced off against all manner of foes; from a huge tick that attached itself to Kali almost the moment we arrived and a plague of woodlice that seemed to flood the unlockable door of our airbnb; to the whispers that swirled around me as mist each night, urging me to come outside into the darkness only to bombard me with insults when I refused their invitations over and over again. And finally, just as I thought we would be safe, Glastonbury stood firm with me when the faux spirituality of an industry I’d believed I “must” be part of made a home for itself in the walls of my temporary home.
I left the town without a single word written, but with a greater clarity than ever in what I was here to do and to say, as well as where I was meant to say it from. I left knowing that Kali was in her final years and that one of my closest friendships was drawing towards its conclusion. Every mile I drove away from the town seemed to be another mile closer to an entirely new beginning, one that seemed both deeply clear and incredibly hazy.
And yet as I drove away, the town seemed to nod in reverence and send me on my way.
“Come back,” she declared, “When you’ve remembered who you are.”
2024: Stepping into my power
It took four years to return. Four years in which much was lost, and much was also gained, as is always the case with our big transitition periods.
But this time when I stepped into Glastonbury it was with a certainty of who I am and what I’m here for. I entered together with two of my closest friends – Yoland and Charlie, the other points of the Project Earthwork triangle. And I entered as a guide, a teacher and a channel, preparing to lead my first ever workshop in the town.
We should have known it would be a big weekend (it always is when the three of us get together, as rarely as that happens) but what unfolded? Well that I could never have predicted.
From the dip in the White Spring that saw me swim naked across the icy plunge pool to immerse myself there; to the meditation that involved us magnetising a group of about 30 women — some of whom didn’t even speak English — into the tower at the Top of the Tor with people swaying and weeping as the rain swirled in double helixes around us; and the deep unfolding that happened back in our own little rented barn that evening as we reflected on the weekend and allowed ourselves to lean into the future of a Project we all knew we wanted to build further.
My favourite part though? When I opened up to channel during the weekend’s closing meditation, only to hear a peal of drums suddenly sound from outside… and then found the entire channelled message accompanied by a drum band that marched along the High Street. No whispers this time, only an honouring sounded out loud and clear!
As our workshop finished I had one of the most potent activations I’ve ever had. Yolandi and Charlie held me as I writhed, retched and shook my way back to reclaiming a part of myself that had, until then, always been afraid to come back to the fore. And this time when I left Glastonbury, I left feeling more complete than ever.
And this time, as I sat on the motorway in a traffic jam thanks to a whispered instruction from Spirit that cost me eight hours of driving but helped me avoid the scene of a huge pile up, the message from Glastonbury came through clearly.
“You’ve found yourself, now it’s time to work with the rest. Come back when you’re ready to accept us – Spirit, the land and all that there is – as true partners. We’ll be waiting.”
2025: The grail gates of Gaia
And so this year, I prepare to return. This year we prepare to return.
Personally, I’ve grown into the woman that I am in all of her own unique coolness (which does not, for the record, involve mud wrestling strangers).
I’ve faced so many of my fears and stood tall in my truth.
I’ve learned from some of the wisest women of Glastonbury and beyond, and recognised the wisdom within myself.
I’ve made vows of my own to the land and the ancestors, as well as the women I walk beside.
I’ve found — or more, remembered — my place in the world and in this life, no matter what the voices of evil might try to tell me.
And I’ve stepped into all of the power that’s been mine to reclaim so far.
At every step of that journey, Glastonbury has guided me. At some points along the way Glastonbury has pushed me, yet throughout it all she has always held me. As she always does for those who are willing to step forward and meet her, offer themselves and their energy to her as they make a pilgrimage to her heart, the heart of our planet.
What will this next trip bring? I don’t know.
I know I’ll arrive again by bus for the first time in a long while.
I know there’ll be ritual with the land; that we’ll seek out the ancient oaks Gog and Magog and that we’ll spend a magical morning with the glorious Chalice Well Garden wholly to ourselves.
I know I’ll stand with two sisters whose voices and whose wisdom weave together with my own to create a magic I can’t quite put words to, only feelings.
I know I’ll speak truths that my partners across Spirit and within this land I call home are determined it is time for me to share.
I know that I’ll offer myself to Glastonbury, as a wise teacher once told me we must do in a sacred site where so, so many come only to take.
And I know I’ll once again come face to face with the Earth – this time as I peer into the Grail Gates of Gaia and invite others to do the same.
Who I’ll be when I leave, I can’t be sure. Because Glastonbury has always changed me, has always asked me to step in and up.
As she does all of us. Perhaps you’re already feeling the stirring of that invitation within you as you read this.
So what do you say, are you ready to see where it leads? And to accept the invitation that Avalon and the Grail Gates of Gaia are offering?
PS. Interested in journeying with myself,
and Yolandi but not sure what to expect? Check out our latest Project Earthwork video to learn more. |
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Yesss. Love this share. xx