Long ago,
In the dark green velvet folds of whales,
There lived a powerful magician named Gwydion.
And one day he was given a task by his nephew,
The soon-to-be king of those lands.
This task was to create a woman.
For this man,
Cleuchla Griffiths,
Had been cursed at birth and it was said that he was not to marry a woman born of mortal womb.
And the rules of the land were thus,
That if he could not marry a mortal woman,
He would not be able to be the sovereign king of those lands.
And if he could not be the sovereign king of those lands,
As was his path and purpose,
Well,
He would be nothing.
And so he would marry a woman shaped by the very hand of nature itself,
A maiden of root and bloom called forth by magic.
For it was only magic that knows how to bend fate.
And so this was the task that had been set by the king for his uncle the magician Gwydion,
The best conjurer of magic in those lands.
Walking the wild fields under the full light of the moon,
Gwydion went.
Wise in the ways of leaf and stone,
He gathered the blossoms of that wild earth.
Meadowsweet,
For kindness.
Generosity.
Broom for gold and fire,
Love and light.
Oak blossoms for strength.
And resilience.
By the river's edge,
Beneath the stars,
He began to weave her into form.
From petal and pollen,
Stem and leaf,
He sang her into being,
Conjuring her form.
And finally,
When the light was just coming over the horizon in a blush of rose and lavender,
She emerged from the earth.
Stretching her arms out of the mossy ground as if awakening from a beautiful dream,
Pulling her long limbs from the loamy soil,
Her skin milk white and pure,
Her hair long and golden as if spun from the most golden of the meadow grasses,
Her cheeks rosy as if dusted with a blush of the softest petals,
Her skin glowing as if washed with the early morning dew.
Her eyes the deepest green,
Like moss after a spring rain.
In short.
Pure beauty in human form,
The most beautiful maiden in the world.
And so,
They named her Bledewith.
Flower face.
To all intents and purposes a fully grown,
Fully perfect woman,
A perfect future queen for the soon-to-be king that she would wed.
Willing and able,
Naive and innocent.
And so Gwydion took her gently by the hand to the castle,
And in a grand ceremony and a flurry of cherry blossoms and white rose petals,
She was wed to Clew Claw Griffiths.
Handsome,
Kind,
And rather young and naive himself in his own way.
Their wedding night tender,
But somewhat reserved.
Bidewith lived quietly in the castle with him at first,
Walking the gardens,
Tending the roses,
Smiling at her husband.
She lived the life that they had set before her,
And she played that role the gentle quiet.
Obedient Wife.
Are you happy,
My love?
Clu would ask her earnestly,
Wanting only to please his dear and beloved wife.
Of course,
My love,
" she would answer,
And smile a radiant smile that dazzled him so much with its beauty,
To the point that he couldn't hear the lack of emotion,
The lack of depth in her voice.
She was so beautiful.
Was she even truly human?
Or a magical sprite of the forest,
A mirage that he was married to.
But he put that thought out of his mind for now.
He had a kingdom to rule.
And his queen?
What?
Does Bledewith think of all of this?
How does she feel as she walks the halls of this giant castle,
As she obeys and acts in the ways that she has been told to?
Well,
At first.
.
.
She was a bit dazed by it,
Really.
Opulence,
The fine clothing,
The food,
It was all so extravagant and overwhelming,
So sweet and over the top.
It felt strange to her,
But she had no memories of anything else,
And no one else seemed to think it strange.
She wanted to be a good wife.
She wanted to be a good queen.
But she constantly had this strange feeling like she was performing on a stage and she had just memorized all of the lines that she was speaking.
She knew the stage directions like muscle memory.
She held her body straight and her head high.
Moving gracefully like a marionette through the halls.
And whenever she was in her chamber with its low ceiling and small windows,
This feeling overtook her of feeling trapped and Breathless.
The only thing that helped her feel better was to slip off her robes and her fine shoes and to place her feet on the ground,
To lie naked on the cold floor and feel the pulse of the stones beneath her.
But she could only do this for so long before she began to shiver.
But when spring came,
She would wander out into the garden and it was there that she was happiest.
Gazing into the faces of the flowers,
Whispering to them in a language she hadn't ever spoken to anyone else.
Not that she spoke much to anyone at all,
Really.
Except when Clu would be home from battle,
From traveling to other faraway kingdoms,
And he would smile at her from across the long dining table and tilt his head at her and ask,
Are you happy,
My love?
Do you want of anything?
And she would say,
Of course,
My love,
I want of nothing.
Even if she didn't truly believe that herself when she said it,
She had no reason not to.
What did she want of?
She had everything she could have possibly imagined and more.
And her gardens were growing,
Expanding beyond the castle walls,
The tendrils of her roses reaching out beyond them.
Because perhaps the wild they used to make her did not forget itself.
And certainly the wild within cannot be tamed by intention alone.
For something deep in her heart was stirring,
Something she didn't fully understand just yet.
But she began to stray farther from the castle walls,
Beyond the walled gardens,
And out into the forest,
Into the woods.
She began to disappear for hours at a time,
Wandering and daydreaming,
Conversing with the flowers.
And so it was that one day she found herself wandering the fields alone,
Humming sweetly and picking wildflowers to wear in her hair.
But a hunter came riding out of the woods.
A man,
Fierce and free with the scent of pine and the open fields about him.
He and his men were on a hunt on the adjoining lands,
And so she watched him from a distance.
Something about his open manner,
The way he would throw his head back when he was laughing with his men,
The way he would jump lithely onto his horse,
Despite the denseness of his form.
She couldn't take her eyes from him.
She had to see him more closely.
So,
Barefoot with her skirts held high,
She ran back to the castle and ordered one of her men to ride out to meet him and invite him to spend the night at the castle with his men.
For wasn't that a hospitable thing that a queen should always offer?
Clean beds and hot food and ale.
And wasn't it for her to order this if her husband was off visiting other lands?
Yes,
Of course it was.
This.
Is how she found herself.
Sharing a table,
A hot meal,
And jugs of ale with Gronway Pepper and his men.
This is how she found herself,
Gazing into his eyes,
And found him gazing right back into hers as they laughed together and told each other stories late into the night.
This is how she found herself alone with him once all the others had gone to bed,
Still talking,
Still laughing,
Him looking at her on able to take his eyes from hers.
This is how she found herself in his bed,
Or rather him in hers.
But this was not just an infatuation.
This was not just a woman sleeping with another man while her husband was off somewhere else.
No,
This was something much different than the love that she had felt for Clu.
The love for him had burned slowly and quietly and softly and dutifully.
That love was still very much with her that night,
But this was something more.
Feelings were welling up in her that she had never even imagined herself being capable of.
And seeing the way this man saw her,
Feeling the way that she felt in herself around him,
She finally felt met by someone else that could see her for who she truly was for the first time in her life.
This man of the forest had unlocked something in her.
Had uncovered something within her.
That there was no going back from.
They awoke the next morning in each other's arms.
And then,
With a start,
Bludewith sat up.
I don't know when Clu,
My husband,
Will return,
But I— cannot bear for you to leave me.
You must stay and so together we will face the consequences.
" and Granwy,
Usually a man of reason and discipline,
He could do nothing to remove himself from her bed.
This enchanting woman he was falling deeply,
Swiftly in love with.
And this is how they found themselves barring the doors and holing up in her chambers and talking and laughing and making love and pretending like fate would intervene and there would be no consequences to their actions because their love must be written in the stars and it could be no other way.
This is how they found themselves plotting the death of her husband.
Only so they could be together as they must be.
This is how they found themselves spending three straight days together until the night when a plan was decided,
And they bid each other farewell,
But only until the deadly deed was done.
And of course,
Clu returned and expected everything to be as perfect as it had been when he had left.
He shared a meal with his wife and asked her as he always did,
Are you happy my love?
Do you want of anything?
But she could not go back to answering that question in the way that she had before.
She could not pretend that she was happy and that she didn't want of many things,
And she began to do something her husband had never seen her do.
Something she had never done herself,
Even in private.
She began to cry.
My love,
What is the matter?
" he asked.
And quickly she caught herself for the plan had been made and perhaps She could use these tears for her own means.
Oh my love,
I am just so afraid you will die one day.
That you will be taken from me.
Ah,
My love,
This is not something you need to concern yourself with.
Oh,
You sweet thing to worry about me so.
No,
No,
It is quite impossible for me to be killed.
I cannot be killed indoors or outdoors,
Not on foot or on horseback.
And the only weapon that can harm me is a spear that has been crafted for a year.
You see,
It is quite impossible.
But then,
My love,
How can you be killed?
" Blydewith cried as she wiped the tears from her face.
Well,
It is rather strange,
But the curse that was put upon me was a very specific one.
By making a bath for me by the side of the river,
And by putting a roof over the bathtub,
And thatching it well and tightly,
And bringing a goat,
And putting it beside the bath,
Then I must place one foot on the goat's back,
And one on the edge of the bathtub,
And whoever strikes me thus will cause my death.
As I said,
Quite impossible.
Quite impossible,
My love,
" she agreed.
And so,
The first stage of the plan was underway.
She sent word of all this to Granwey Pepper and he began to forge the spear.
And she carried on as if nothing had changed,
Even though everything had changed.
Thus,
A year passed.
And on that day when the spear was prepared and Gráinne's side of the plan was in play,
She spoke to her husband again.
My love,
I have been thinking.
How is it possible that what you told me could be true about how you can be killed?
I just can't imagine it at all.
Let me show you,
" Clew replied gamely.
And so together they went to the river with the bathhouse,
And he prepared it and demonstrated it all for her as she stood by and watched,
Knowing Granwey was waiting in ambush nearby with the spear,
Knowing that she was watching her husband's final moments of life.
And instead of being upset about this,
All she could do was think about seeing Granwe again and being in his arms after all this time.
The love she felt for him consumed her to the point that her face was burning and her heart beating so fast that she could almost hear it in her ears.
So when the spear was flung at her husband as he balanced one foot on the edge of the bath and the other on the goat's back by the river under the thatch,
She ran to the men who had aimed this spear,
Not to her husband's lifeless form with the poisonous spear sticking from it.
She did not turn to see his form shift into that of an eagle.
She did not even hear its fearful scream as it flew up in a flurry of feathers into the sky,
For she.
Was in the arms of her love and now everything would be right with the world again.
But of course,
This was not the case.
Punishment for them was not so swift.
For a clue in his eagle form had no way of telling anyone what had happened.
All that was known was that Gronwey Pepper and his men had taken over the castle of Ardadi and that he would be the new king ruling over the land and that now Bledewith would be the queen.
So they had some days in which they could rule together,
Side by side and bask in their love and happiness together,
But it was not many.
For the magician,
Gwydion,
At the behest of Clu's father,
Math of Mithonwe,
Knew something was wrong.
He knew he needed to find Clu wherever he was,
For he was certainly not in the land of the dead,
That much he could sense.
And eventually he did track down the eagle that was Clu and nurse him back to life.
Eventually,
Clu's father did send men to lay siege upon this castle to try to capture Bledewith and Pepper.
Eventually,
Hlu's father Math of Mithonwae did send his men to lay siege on the castle at Ardadi to try to capture Bledewith and Gronwypepper,
Who was certainly not the rightful king.
But Bedewith was already on her way into the mountains with her women,
For she had gotten word that Muthubuthunway's men were on their way and that her time in loving bliss with Grunway was over.
And now it would be time to pay.
For the consequences of their actions.
She was afraid.
She was defiant.
She knew what she had done,
But she could not have ever done any different.
And so it was,
With a sense of fated surrender,
That she decided to flee into the forest.
So it was that the tears she cried for the second time in her life were wet and rose-scented,
Ones that fell heavily into the thick,
Hairy chest of her lover as they embraced one final time.
And so it was that by cover of night she fled to the mountains with her maidens.
Four maidens following her,
Holding lanterns above their heads,
Every crack of a branch in the dark forest making them gasp and cling tighter to each other.
Bledaewyth forging on ahead,
Unafraid of this darkness,
Unafraid of what was to come,
Knowing she could not have done any different.
And as these women made their way through the forest in the darkness,
Not far behind them was Gwydion tracking them.
It had been set to him to deal with Bledewith,
As he had been the one to create her after all.
Soon he could see the lanterns bobbing through the forest ahead,
Held aloft by the maidens,
And so he first set an enchantment upon these maidens.
With their lanterns held aloft,
They began to turn their bodies and began to run backwards,
Having no idea why.
And they get more frightened,
And soon,
Without seeing what is ahead of them,
And cold lake.
It swallows them up in one gulp,
Their cries disappearing into its darkness.
Bledewith quickly turns to see the lanterns as they're extinguished in the lake one by one,
Her women gone.
And she knows that Gwydion must be near,
That this must be his doing.
And so she turns to face that enchanter,
Calling out to him boldly into the darkness,
A bitterness in her voice.
Do what you must to me,
Magician,
For you created me,
And I know that I have betrayed my husband,
But I did it for love,
And I did it for life,
And I would do it again a thousand times over if I had to.
Gwydion comes out of the forest and he points his wand at her malevolently.
And so you will be punished for this,
Bledewith.
Flower face I called you once for out of the flowers of the forest I created you.
Sweet,
Obedient,
Full of grace I made you and now you have become something wild,
Something nasty.
The woman,
The creature that stands before me now is none of those things.
You have ruined everything I have done and now you will pay for it.
Do what you will.
Slay me dead here on this very spot.
I have loved,
I have lived,
And I accept the fate that lies before me,
Whatever it shall be,
Bledeweth cried out into the darkness.
I cannot rid myself of you,
For you are my own creation,
But I will transform you into something unimaginably worse.
I will transform you into an owl,
The most hated bird of the forest.
You will be an owl to be tormented by the other birds,
The night hag,
The corpse bird,
The bird that signals approaching death and misfortune.
And you will never show your face in daylight.
You shall not sleep.
You shall be a specter of what you were before.
You shall be banished to the shadows forevermore.
No longer flower face,
But owl.
To your worst magician.
I am not afraid of darkness.
" And these were Bledewith's last words.
For there in that place,
In that instant,
She was transformed into an owl.
As she tries to cry out in the form of a woman,
The sound that comes from her is the screech of the owl.
As she looks down at her body,
She sees it has become the body of the owl,
Feathers and wings and talons thick.
And so it was that the forest at midnight echoed with the owl's eerie hooting,
Calling out its own misfortune,
Echoing into the darkness of the forest where she can still be found to this day.
For even now,
The owl is called Bledewith.
And as for Gronwypepper back in Ardadi,
He was surrounded that same night by Mithonwy's men and swiftly captured.
And so,
It was quickly decided that the best way to kill him would be to shoot him for his punishment in the same way as he had shot Clu.
And so,
In the thick of the night,
With one foot on the back of a goad and one on the edge of the bathtub by the river under the thatch,
He stands proudly,
Knowing he could not have ever done any different,
Knowing he would do it again a thousand times over if he had to.
He holds the shield of stone he has been allowed to carry,
But it will not protect him that night.
The spear is let loose,
Piercing through the stone,
Piercing through the thick muscle of Granway pepper.
And so he falls heavy to the earth with a thud.
As the owl cries out mournfully,
Screeching into the night,
Alone now beneath the moon and darkness.
Take a deep breath in.
And as you breathe out,
Feel the heaviness of the day slip away.
Dissolving into.
.
.
The surface beneath you.
Any worries or things that you are still holding.
Just let them soak.
Down into the surface beneath you.
Down into the soil.
Into the bedrock beneath.
And with each breath,
Allowing yourself to slip even deeper.
Into stillness.
Into the quiet of.
.
.
The present moment.
Allowing the sounds of the space around you to melt.
Into the background.
As you focus.
Inward.
And listen to the rhythm.
Of your breath.
Slow.
And study.
Life-giving.
Noticing the chest muscles as they move upwards and outwards in breath.
The diaphragm as it moves downwards.
Just moving your attention inward.
Into the space of the lungs.
Into that network of bronchi and bronchiolas that are branching out just like tree limbs branching to absorb oxygen and then spreading out through other networks into the blood system.
Bringing it oxygen and bringing it life.
Imagining that system of branches that are echoed in nature in the forms of the branches of trees as they stretch upwards and absorb what we breathe out in the form of carbon dioxide.
The system working without us even noticing it.
This symbiosis.
This echo in nature that is within the form of our bodies.
As above.
So below.
I invite you to picture in your mind's eye a place of wild and untouched beauty.
Just imagine yourself standing there small with this wildness around you.
Perhaps it's a lush,
Green forest clearing that you're standing in.
And the air that is filling your lungs has the sweet fragrance of flowers to it.
You might be able to feel the grass cool beneath your feet.
You might be able to hear the hum of the bees.
Buzzing in the wildflowers and the soft rustle of the leaves as a warm breeze blows through them.
And as you stand in this space,
Just look around you.
And notice the life that surrounds you.
Notice the trees.
The flowers.
Each plant as it carries its own.
Unique energy,
Its own special gifts.
That have emerged from the earth.
This is a sacred place.
This is a place where transformation is possible.
And as you stand here you begin to feel a pull from deep within the earth as if the land itself is reaching out to you.
You walk slowly towards the center of this open meadow that is before you and in the center.
In this pool of golden light you see.
But I was.
The woman who was born.
From the blossoms of the earth.
She stands before you not in the form of the owl but in the form of the woman her golden hair is flowing down her back,
And she's wearing a crown of petals.
On her head,
Her skin is dewy and glowing,
And her eyes are smiling.
They meet yours.
And in that moment,
As you look at her,
You see.
.
.
Her beauty.
Reflected.
In your own beauty.
But I was steps closer to you.
And in your eyes,
You see also now the reflection of your own untapped potential.
She speaks to you without words.
Only through the language of the heart.
But the gist of what she says to you is that you also are born of the earth.
You also are made of beauty and wildness and freedom.
You also are meant to bloom and expand beyond what you even imagine you are capable of.
You feel the power of her words settling into you.
And in this moment,
Blodioweth reaches out a closed hand to you and offers you a gift.
Opening her hands,
You see a tiny seed in the palm of her hand,
A seed that she offers to you.
One that holds the promise of everything within it.
Promise of growth and change and awakening.
Emergence.
Potential.
She places it gently in your hands.
And as you hold it,
You feel the warmth.
Of the sun.
The nurturing power of the soil.
And the ancient wisdom.
Of the Earth itself.
You take this seat.
And you hold it to your heart.
Planting it in the fertile ground of love.
Within that space.
And with every breath,
You begin to feel it taking root within you.
You begin to feel.
Tendrils stretching out.
Towards the light.
Reaching for the warmth of the sun.
Unfurling its petals.
I invite you to witness this transformation.
The way the seed is slowly unfurling from the soil.
The way the first tendrils are being sent up from the fertile ground.
And emerging.
As this beautiful flower that is.
Blooming into its fullness right there before your very eyes.
I invite you to notice.
What kind of flower it is.
Notice the colors.
The textures.
Even the quality of the sunlight as it shines upon this flower.
Noticing any special qualities about it.
How it feels within you to look at this flower.
To see it blooming and blossoming and opening up to the world around it.
As your flower blooms,
You might feel yourself becoming lighter.
More vibrant.
More alive even.
Bludhaiwatth watches you as this transformation takes place.
And she softly whispers to you.
You are free to bloom as you are.
You are free to embrace your wild and beautiful truth.
And as you stand in the presence of Blediwith,
Feel this gift and her words settling into your heart,
Into your breath.
And perhaps there are more gifts more.
Words that she would like to share with you.
And so,
I will give you a moment.
If she has anything she'd like to say or any images that she would like to share with you.
You thank Blidaewith for her message.
And for the gift of the seed,
And you take one final look at your flower in full bloom.
Just embedding that image of it in your mind,
In your heart.
And then.
.
.
You begin to walk away.
Through this wild,
Natural,
Serene place.
The scent of the flowers.
In the air.
Feeling of the grass on your feet.
Perhaps the eyes of an owl watching you from the trees.
Watching over you.
And with every step,
You return now,
Not to me.
As you were before,
But as you are now.
Becoming.
Feeling your body on the earth.
Feeling your breath in your chest.
Feeling the ground supporting you as you begin to come back slowly to it now.
Stretching gently.
And allowing the song to flow.
Guide you back.
