Druidess: My Interspiritual Priestess Path Leads Me To Druidry

I am an Interspiritual priestess, which means I honor wisdom wherever it flows, whether it be through Jesus’ teachings of compassion, John Wesley’s vision of prevenient grace, the Avalonian mysteries reclaimed by Jhenah Telyndru and the Sisters of Avalon, the mythic landscapes illuminated by Caitlín and John Matthews, or the prophetic spiritual imagination of Matthew Fox. Each voice, these and many others, contributes to the tapestry of my life, helping me navigate a sacred path that is both grounded and expansive.

What I see at the heart of Druidry is also at the heart of my priestesshood. It is Awen, the flowing spirit of inspiration. In Druidic tradition, Awen is the creative current that animates the universe, carrying poetry, ritual, and sacred knowing. It is the same Spirit that Evelyn Underhill explored in her writings on contemplative prayer. It is a presence that invites the soul into direct experience of the Divine. Awen is also the life force that Starhawk evokes in her rituals, grounding spirituality in practical engagement with the world and its cycles. It is the living thread that connects creativity, ethics, and reverence for all beings.

Seth, the entity revealed in the book Seth Speaks by Jane Roberts, taught me that we co-create our consciousness and reality through our intentions, our awareness, and our connection to the unseen. In Awen, I recognize that same intelligence: a responsive, generative Spirit that flows through human imagination, ritual, and our daily acts of care. This is not unlike the idea of Process Theology, influenced by the metaphysical process philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead. Process Theologian Marjorie Suchock said that “God works with the world; God’s plans are necessarily responsive to the world.” In other words, each decision we make influences what happens next. In this way, we co-create with the Divine and with one another.

Druidry is a practical spirituality: the altar, the grove, and the seasonal cycle are not only symbols, but they are also laboratories for living in alignment with Awen, with Spirit, and with the sacredness of the earth itself. In this laboratory of life, I experiment with the effects of my actions, my thoughts, and my relationship with All That Is.

Science, too, mirrors these truths. Quantum physics shows that all matter is interwoven, entangled across space and time, vibrating with energy and potential. Awen feels like the spiritual name for this energetic interconnection, the breath that moves through trees, stars, and human hearts alike. Ritual, for me, becomes a way of aligning consciousness with that current: lighting a candle, telling a story, offering gratitude at a well or a cauldron, or blessing the land. Each practice is both a symbolic acknowledgment of the sacred and a tangible participation in the intelligence that flows through all things.

Druidry, as an Interspiritual practice, does not demand exclusivity. I do not leave behind Jesus’ compassion, Wesley’s theology, Matthew Fox’s cosmic Christ, Evelyn Underhill’s contemplative wisdom, Starhawk’s activist magic, or the guidance of Telyndru and the Matthews. Instead, I carry them into the grove, weaving them together with the voice of Awen and the rhythms of the earth. Each voice is a note in a living symphony, each teaching a thread in a tapestry of ritual, spirituality, and practical life.

For me, Druidry is not a detour from Interspirituality. It is its flowering. It deepens what I already know: that Spirit moves through all creation, that human consciousness is a co-creative force, and that ritual and ethical action are inseparable. In the circle of Druidry, with Awen flowing through it, I find a space where all these threads—mythic, contemplative, visionary, and practical—meet and resonate, inviting me to live fully, spiritually, and responsibly in a world that is itself holy.

“There But For…Go I”

One of the phrases I hate the most, and why

When people say or write the phrase, “There but for the grace of God go I,” I think they’re trying to be empathetic to someone else’s pain and suffering. I’ve said it in the past myself, but somewhere along the line, I began to question what it really meant.

I was beginning to hear in that little phrase a sort of conceit not uncommon in modern Christianity. Used as a platitude in an effort to somehow connect oneself to another’s suffering, to say “there but for the grace of God go I” sounds to me a lot like sayiang “because I have the grace of God, I am not like that person,” therefore, “that person doesn’t have the grace of God.”

A little research tells me that the phrase probably comes from something written by 16th-century Protestant reformer, John Bradford. What he said was, “There but for the grace of God goes John Bradford.” He was likely paraphrasing from the Pauline letter to the Corinthians recorded as 1 Corinthians 15:10:

10 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I but the grace of God that is with me.*

This is pulled out of context, of course, from a letter in which Paul is proclaiming not that he has some special grace that no one else has, but that the grace given him by God has changed him, and his recognition of this gave him strength. He continues to write about the resurrection stories about Jesus and of the dead, which does not interest me in this particular conversation, as it doesn’t apply to the modern-day platitude I’m addressing.

Though I am no longer a United Methodist, or even a Christian in the current interpretation of that moniker, I follow John Wesley’s train of thought on “grace,” though perhaps not with the detailed verbiage he applied to it.

Grace, to me, is the Presence of the Divine that is always available to us. It is Energy, Breath, Life.

It is Being.

We draw on it as a matter of course. We can intentionally draw on it through prayer and meditative practices. Through ritual. Through faith. By which I mean, not belief, but the unmitigated understanding that all will be well, even when all does not seem to be well.

This grace, to me, is the grace of God/Spirit/Universe/All that Is. It is not something to be tightly grasped as something we possess and others don’t have.

“There but for the grace of God go I” is a fallacy that people tell themselves to make themselves feel better. There is no empathy in it. It’s not biblical.

The closest biblical reference I can think of comes from a parable recorded as having been told by Jesus in Luke 18:9–14:

10‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. 11The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. 12I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” 13But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” 14I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’ *

In this case, the “there but for the grace of God” character does not come out looking so good.

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*Scripture from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)