Let me try and illustrate this with a little story:
There has always been a huge, Oak tree half way down the street. You have passed it nearly every day for the last 5 years, on your way to work. Sometimes, you may have admired it or used its broad canopy for shelter from the rain or as shade from the sun.
Now, it is as if you are seeing that Oak tree for the very first time. You notice its rough, strong bark and the breadth of its trunk. You wonder how old the Oak is and how much he has seen pass his way over the centuries. You notice that its leaves come later than other trees in Spring and the bright green, newness of them. You notice the full moon, as it shines its strange light through the branches, dancing on the trunk. You are filled with wonder and awe as the sun's rays reach down through the leafy canopy, dappling onto the mighty trunk.
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Now, you notice this great Oak every day, like an old friend that you acknowledge as you walk by. You begin to notice the turning of the seasons. How the Oak looks at night, or at dusk, with its dark shadows stretching out on the ground around the base of the trunk. The Oak's majestic beauty in Winter, the dark branches spreading overhead, silhouetted against the starry sky. The way its stark beauty continues on, deep into the Spring. How, suddenly, the leaves are unfurling and very soon, the Oak burgeons forth with life and the branches stretch like a huge, magnificent canopy of green.
One day, you walk past and the council truck is beside it, the workers busy with their machinery. Ready to chop down the great Oak in the name of progress. Plans to widen the road, to help ease the traffic at rush hour, have been passed. Orange and white plastic blockades seals off the area. The Great Oak is due for the chop. NOW you care, and really care. This is your good friend. Over the time you have shared special moments. He has shared some of his wisdom with you. Unbidden, tears of anger, bitterness and grief, prick your eyes. You shout out for them to stop.
'Sorry mate,' a man with a yellow jacket and a clip board shouts back, 'Gov'ners orders.' With that, one of the other men, pulls the cord of his chain saw, to begin on the upper branches. As the blade bites deeply about 20 feet above the ground where you stand, you feel a white flash of pain in your head. In panic you shout again. No one is listening. You try to break through the blockade but your stopped by a surly man, with broad rimmed glasses and a yellow hat. 'Get out!' He roars, above the sound of the chain saw. You turn away bleakly, not knowing what else to do. As you leave, you whisper your goodbyes and your apologies, for not realising and doing something about it sooner.
As you trapse, slowly along the street. You know your going to miss that Great Oak on your way to work and back. You look at the passers by, hurrying to their destinations, not noticing the death of the Oak. You sigh heavily. You know that from now on, your going to have to do something to stop this kind of thing happening again.
Sorry, this is not an Oak, as you can see, I will exchange these pictures at a later date. The file I was looking for I can't find!
This is Druidry. You don't make it happen by brute force and will. It happens slowly and subtly as you reach out to the world about you and find connections. This is a wonderful feeling. Like an awakening after a long sleep. However, now that you have awoken, you find that you start to take responsibility for what you do. Not because of a set of rules, but from an internal change from deep within you. When you feel connected, suddenly the relationship changes and you care about the impact your having on the natural world.
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