Every morning for the past nine years I have engaged in a writing ritual.
I write with spirit. It is an exchange, a direct letter. Then spirit writes back.
For several years this epistolary exchange was generalized, but as I grew more familiar with the individuated voices of the Goddesses, so the letters were specified. And they began to address me as Veleda.
I have changed. I am not the person I was nine years ago.
I have changed. I am not the person I was nine months ago. As I let go of struggling against the tide of my rebellious body, I become someone who lives, newly.
Part of my work has been to bring women to their sacred feminine lineage, to nourish and support women through self-care and spirituality as they create stories to live by. I do this through art, mythmaking, storytelling and community.
I have been called to carry the name Veleda. Not as a title, but as a re-membering: In our ancient past, women were visionaries. Our intuition and spiritual insights were valued. We were Priestesses, Völvas, and Veledas. We must know our history, know our heritage, understand how our spiritual power was systematically undermined and destroyed by twinned flames of patriarchy and capitalist religion. To claim our names is to claim our stories. In this we may honor our ancestors and assuage their grief. In this we may own our truth, and come to understand the root of our soul calling.
I will post more at the full moon on the story of the Veleda. Until then, here are two images that illustrate her reading the auguries and signs through natural divination.