Small Gods

I am writing this blog from a bed and breakfast in the deep rolling forested hills outside Athens, Ohio. This morning I woke up and walked around the property wearing a straw witch hat. I cuddled a lamb, held a chicken, and was gifted three duck eggs. This afternoon, after a few hours of intense writing, I walked outside again to clear my head, and my hostess suggested I should try walking down the one-lane gravel road. I am so very glad I did. As I walked along and admired the meadow on one side that afforded glimpses of the thickly forested hills in the distance, and the steep incline on the other side covered in trees with exposed roots wrapped in moss...I thought of the idea of this blog post.

Recently, I was talking to my friend Bryonie about a group I'm starting in late May devoted to faerie faith and folklore. I am nervous about holding space solo for as many people as might be attending. Her suggestion to me was to seek out a faerie goddess, and I winced at the "g" word. You see, I know part of it is because of religious trauma, but although I believe there are beings out there known as gods, and I hold respect for them, I prefer to interact down here on the lower levels with faeries and earth spirits. My companion through the faerie realms is a young troll named Adley, and though she has her own very potent strengths, she is definitely not a goddess or a faerie queen. 

Walking down the road in front of my b&b today, I started thinking about how magnificent it can be sometimes to visit destination locations in nature. Tomorrow I will likely be visiting Hocking Hills, a stunning forest and cavern area people travel to see from other states and countries. I love to go to the Columbia River Gorge in Oregon and visit their absolutely epic waterfalls. But the deeper I get into my own spirituality, the more I realize how very very much I love (and mostly prefer) the beauty and magic of the simple and small. I love walking down the country lane my hostess suggests I meander, and finding the small wonders like a neon red wildflower, or the roots of a tree blanketed with tiny white blooms. 

Ultimately I agreed with dear Bryonie: For this particular event, it was a wise idea to seek aid from a higher power. I may still prefer to call that power "faerie queen" or "mother of the trees" instead of deity, but that's mostly for personal reasons. I am thankful for their aid, and I acknowledge that sometimes there is a need for them. Just as I feel more kin to the magic of country lanes, small forests, and wildflowers, but sometimes can find power and meaning in the beauty of greater vistas, so also I need to open my heart to the help from a faerie queen when it is required.