Sacred Scar

Last Saturday I was fortunate to take part in a 'Sacred Scar' day.  An opportunity to receive a tattoo in ceremony and ritual.  It was one of the most powerful experiences of my life to date.  In the days immediately afterwards this piece of writing came to me, its a narrative of the event and all at the same time it isn't.

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Quietly they arrive in ones and twos, slipping through the door on the peaceful street in the early morning light.

Slowly they begin to move around the room, starting the journey into ceremonial space. A drum begins to gently sound, bringing in the heartbeat of the Great Mother to hold her daughters.

In the corner, the red-headed witch sharpens her needles and makes ready, watching the women with a midwife’s eye. Checking the energies, sensing the fears.

The drumbeat rises to a more urgent rhythm as the first sister comes forward and presents her skin to the needle. Her sisters raise their voices in a rich harmony of love and power, carrying her through as the marks emerge on her kin.

One after another they flow into the witch’s chair to receive their sacred scars. Reminders of their stories, of who they have been, of who they will become.

The drumbeat and the voices endlessly circle….and then…it’s done. The sisters gather to hold one another, to share the tears and the joys. 

Then, quietly, in ones and twos, they slip away again. The red-headed witch shuts the lid of her needle box. Their work is done, until the drum calls again.

Awen is a healer and ceremonialist based in the West Midlands, UK. 

www.wildmagpie.co.uk 

Lammas: The Story of Demeter and Persephone

This my version of this traditional myth, brought to you in honour of Lammas


Demeter was the Goddess of the harvest, who presided over grains and the fertility of the Earth.  Demeter had a beautiful daughter called Persephone who she loved and treasured deeply.  One beautiful summer’s day, Persephone was playing in the fields with her friends while her mother watched.  Suddenly the ground opened up and Persephone was drawn down into the Underworld by Hades.

Hades had been watching Persephone for a very long time, he had fallen in love with her and wished her to be his wife.  Persephone did not like the darkness of the Underworld and spurned Hades affections, refusing to eat or drink, hoping he would return her to her mother Demeter.

When Demeter realised what had become of her daughter she became distraught and the fertility of the Earth began to wane.  Realising that the Earth was dying and that the people and animals of the world would die also, Zeus knew he would have to intervene.  He sent his messenger Hermes to talk with Hades.

In the meantime, Persephone had started to realise that the Underworld was not the dark and fearsome place she believed it to be and that she could help the souls who arrived there.  She also realised that Hades was not as bad as he first seemed.  As Hermes arrived in the Underworld, he saw Hades offer Persephone a pomegranate, and before he could intervene she ate six seeds from it.

Hermes stepped forward and entreated Hades to return Persephone to her mother.  Hades declared that because Persephone had eaten in the Underworld she would have to remain with him. But he realised he could not allow the Earth to die, so he agreed Persephone would stay with him in the Underworld for six months of the year, one month for each pomegranate seed, and for the other six months she might live with her mother in the world.

And so this is how it has ever been, Persephone descends to the Underworld at the end of the summer, taking her light and her mother’s joy with her, leaving the upper world in the darkness of winter.  Then in the spring she returns to Demeter and the world is bright, fertile and full of laughter once again.

Image – Persephone and the Pomegranate by Kris Waldherr

(c) Awen Clement July 2015

Honouring the Bones

My sister,
I honour your bones.
I cradle your bones,
As we are cradled in the palm of the Great Mother

I honour your stories.
I honour the stories you hold in your bones.
The stories of life and death and birth and grief and living.

I see you.
I see the strength,
The strength and love and courage in your bones.
I see you sister, daughter, mother, grandmother.
I see the ancestors.
I see them walking in your bones.

My sister,
I love you.
I love and honour you.
I love and honour the bones of you.
As I hold and honour you,
So do you honour me.



I offer a ceremony of 'Closing the Bones' as part of my healing practice for women.  These words arose from deep within as I contemplated this work.

The sculpture in the image is 'Cradle Woman' by Ember Vincent (www.embervincent.co.uk)