I’m still in London.
There is a forest not far from where I live in north Wales, old and dense; ancient. I love it. And there, after a long, winding trek through the thick forest is a small clearing stands ‘Y goeden mellt’, the Lightning Tree. (See here).
But, I’m still in town, still in the city, and won’t be back in Capel Curig for at least another few days. And yet….deep in my spirit there’s a restlessness. There are several places where I’ve experienced nwyfre (pronounced ‘noo-iv ruh’) , and one of those it when in the presence of that Lightning Tree.
Nwyfre, traditionally and literally has to do with the wind and the sky. If you can imagine fast flowing, light clouds, low in the sky, say, or the wind ‘howling’ of the tops of trees, then that’s evidence of nwyfre. But, it’s more that just an atmospheric phenomenon – to those with deep awareness, insight, enlightenment, to those who are poets and those who might have a ‘romantic’ inclination, it’s more.
‘Time and attention are the most precious gifts we can give.’ Rob Liano
Nwyfre, at its deepest and most profound, and I would say its most real level, is: Spirit, and the connectedness of everything because of Spirit, and the flow of energy (love etc) between them.
And so, feeling a fair amount of ennui last evening, I went for a walk along the banks of the River Thames in the heart of London. It was late and the air was now cold, very cold, and the wind was howling over the rooftops of nearby high-rise buildings, making a wailing sound like some kind of invisible bansidhe (pronounced ‘ban-shee’). Oh, the wind moaned a deep, mournful, relentless groan.
I felt small in comparison to the power of the wind that raced across city rooftops and shook the trees. I felt separated, as something of a different order altogether to that barometric pressure that moved noisily, and yet invisibly, nearby. And yet, connected. That’s nwyfre!
The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with… the Spirit.’ The Book (part)
Gazing at the river, only dimly lit by street-lighting, I breathed in – air. Nwyfre! The same wind that blew high above me, that howled across the rooftops, that had come from unknown parts in its journey to who knows where, was now in my lungs and coursing through my veins. I ‘discovered’ that I am no longer separate because of nwyfre! That which was outside, literally, is inside of me. We are encompassed by it. Cocooned. Connected.
‘The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.’ Carl Sagan
Walking now, to keep warm – it seemed colder than ever, and fog was moving in – I ‘discovered’ also that I no longer felt that small. Nwyfre! Not separated, not small, but knew that we are all connected. Connected and powerful. I experienced that at Y goeden mellt’, the Lightning Tree in Wales on many occasions when surrounded by a forest, and in solitude; and now in the heart of London – surrounded by eight million soul – I experienced it once more.
I ‘discovered’ a third fact. And this one that affects you, wherever you are. You too, can experienced that connectedness of nwyfre. In thinking of spiritual experiences many think of out-of-the-way and difficult places to visit, but it doesn’t have to be only that way. Where you are, right now, is as special, as sacred, and as holy as Y goeden mellt, and so is every place, too.
‘We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibres connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibres, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.’ Herman Melville
In the heart of London I experienced the connectedness of nwyfre, and wherever you are, you can too. Ofcourse, if our minds are too busy, we’ll miss the invitation of nwyfre. It seems we have a choice.
‘When you make a choice, you change the future.’ Deepak Chopra
It was now bitterly cold, and as I headed home – about a four minute walk from where I was at that point, I looked at the lights in those high-rise apartments, the glow of tv screens ‘playing’ on curtains and the apartments’ ceilings, and the general busyness of the metropolis, and felt saddened that unwittingly some had made a choice, and had missed the opportunity of encountering nwyfre. And, the really sad thing is that they never even knew that they had already made a choice.
‘When you have to make a choice and don’t make it, that is in itself a choice.’ William James