The Transformative Power of Folklore
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”
― Heraclitus
“The one close to me now,
even my own body-
these too
will soon become clouds,
floating in different directions.”
― Izumi Shikibu, The Ink Dark Moon
Nature teaches us many things.
Everything changes.
Nothing is static.
The seasons of the year ebb and flow, the energies of each swelling to a crescendo before seeping away into the next. Everything is born, lives, dies and is reborn within this cycle that is life. The slow and steady rhythm of the sea erodes the coastline. The hill is ever shaped by the elements.
Everything changes.
Nothing is static.
Spirituality, magic, whatever you want to call it, changes too. People, like the landscape change, are worked upon by the context of their circumstances. The Petwo lwa were born in this kind of change, their fiery hot nature what the people needed at that time in Haiti. We see this across the Caribbean, its history steeped in transformation, in pain and blood. We see traditions such as obeah transform with the people and the land, becoming what was needed when it was needed. I’ve written about Nanny of the Maroons many times, about her journey from Ghana to Jamaica and how her military might be accompanied and imbued with the power of obeah. Every culture, every people have those spirits and deities or practices that are often seen through a darker lens, that represent the urge to strike back and fight against oppressors. Who might be called on in the lowest and darkest times of one's life. When all hope is lost. It’s also interesting to me that oftentimes, such spirits are but one half (or third) of some collective, a mirror image or inversion of each other. Each as necessary as the next, each with their own aspect.
In these deities and spirits, in their stories, myths and legends, we see how they shape the landscape and the people that live there. We see them become a part of the landscape, their stories transformed once more.
We often think of folklore, myth, legend and stories as being in the past, a relic of history, and indeed we can learn a lot about ourselves, where we came from and the land where we live by studying the stories that have been handed down to us. But they are more than that.
Folk stories, lore and myth are dynamic. Alive. We can find them still, in our own lives, our own connection with spirit, with the land. They link us to the past, anchor us in the moment and propel us forward into the future where they are added to as we weave our own threads into the tapestry.
I live in Robin Hood county, Nottinghamshire. Almost everyone has heard of this mythological and perhaps semi-historical figure, he who robs from the rich and gives to the poor. Sherwood forest is not far from my home, the major oak a beloved childhood memory, entwined with memories of walks and visits with my own children.
Even now, as an adult, wandering beneath the boughs, one can’t help but think of the stories of Robin Hood, though nowadays perhaps with a longing that such a person existed today. But really though, underpinning such stories is the connection to land and how that affects those who live there. In the stories and myths, the forest provided a protective home to the outlaw and his merry men, and nowadays, through the lens of my own experiences, I interpret this as a protective spirit of place, perhaps.
And today, in this modern time, the connection to land is under threat more than ever as people become displaced. As gentrification further removes the poorest from the land where they live, from nature, our stories and lore can help us transform apathy into something else. They can bring us closer to the land where we live, can aid our connection to those places, and in doing so transform how we see them.
This is the true beginning of connection, and it is only then, when the blinkers are removed, when we see the worth of our landscapes, not in capitalist terms, but in terms of meaning, of spirit, that we can add to our stories in a meaningful way.
Nature teaches us many things.
Everything changes.
Nothing is static.
EMMA KATHRYN
Emma Kathryn, practises traditional British witchcraft, Vodou and Obeah, a mixture representing her heritage. She lives in the sticks with her family where she reads tarot, practises witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
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