Hello Barbara, can you tell More to Life Magazine readers about your unusual name?

The name is not unusual in Scotland where Meiklejohn has its own crest and motto. Meikle means ‘big’ or ‘important’ and John is popular and has associations with the ancient guilds of Scotland. I married Shaun Free and combined the two names, along with my first name, Barbara, which means ‘foreign’ or ‘strange’ one – I was a changeling at birth! The numerology worked out well, I have a name number of 1 which is the number of leadership.

Can you tell us a little about your early life and what gave you a love of ancient cultures?

I was adopted as a young child and brought up in the highlands of Scotland where I played on the field of the Battle of Culloden where so many brave men died defending their lands. I was a very sensitive child. I saw in a vision a Native American standing at the bottom of my bed and saw another vision of my grandfather with shire horses. It was not until my adoptive mother was four weeks from her death that I was reunited with my birth mother. They were of the MacGiillivray clan and seership runs in this family. They were of St. Clair lineage. It was amazing to discover I was the only girl in a family of six boys. I was not good at book learning and found school very difficult. I was dyslexic and left handed and these were not understood by my teachers. I was quick to learn if someone personally took the trouble to show me something and I was creative and imaginative and had a great love of nature. In the highlands, people have a reverence for nature which they believe to be their greatest teacher. They also have a respect for their own ancient traditions. I met the man known as the Highland Seer, Philip Swain MacDonald, when I was twelve years old. He was respected throughout Scotland and he told me I would develop the gift of second sight. He took me under his wing and tutored me and when he died, he gave me his seer’s stone, and I inherited his title. It is a dark grey stone with a cup like shape that holds water and the seer gazes into it and sees visions of the future.

What things in your life have changed you?

I was struck by lightning, which is rather extraordinary as the Christian Saint, Barbara, after whom I was named, is the patron saint of sailors, stonemasons and architects and she is said to provide them with protection against lightening strikes. As a child, I suffered abuse and many soul woundings and later when I was raped at knifepoint I attempted to take my own life three times. I have been through many tests. As a result, I can empathise with others who are experiencing difficulties and hardships. I sought past life regression and finally I understood my soul mission which is to help others to achieve their true potential. I have overcome many early difficulties and now have a clothing range of beautiful ceremonial garments, and a flourishing practise as a healer, medium and consultant.

What do you most enjoy doing?

I especially love singing, dancing and making music which is recognised to be very therapeutic. I enjoy studying the oral traditions of ancient cultures around the world. I have vision quested extensively and been tutored by many native healers and wisdom keepers. I spend six months in Peru connecting to the Earth and the ancestors of this landscape and have been to many of the Native American reservations to study shamanism. In New Mexico I discovered the name of the Native American man who appeared to me as a child. His name is Touch the Clouds. I have visited the Aboriginal people of Australia to learn from them. I have even visited the people of the Amazonian Rain Forest to gather their knowledge of life. I was given a Hopi lightning stick by an elder to give me protection against any further lightning bolts. I love to take groups of spiritual seekers to sacred sites around the world, such as to Egypt, Hawaii, South America and trekking in the foothills of the Himalayas. My most recent work is in facilitating transition from one time of life to another by way of ceremonial rites of passage. In ancient times, and in indigenous cultures, names are very meaningful and important. If someone wishes to change their name to something meaningful for them, a ceremony endorses the name and future life path. From childhood to teenage years, we have a natural demarcation, but few people in Western society really honour this time of maturity as the body prepares to become fertile and be able to have children later in life. Handfastings and other commitments of adult relationships are extremely important and are often also missing from our society. Cutting the cords at the end of life is a way of saying goodbye to those who make the journey into the Otherworld

Do you have a message for today’s politicians?

They should look to the great politicians of the past, to Martin Luther King, Ghandi and others who spoke of peace and commitment to justice and the common good. They must focus on encouraging personal responsibility, to bring about unity and to replace the ‘me’ society with a ‘we’ society. I have many clients who come to see me, for readings, spiritual guidance and ceremonies. Some are very rich and unhappy because money doesn’t produce loyal friendships, ease of life or good health. Politicians must realise that many people are deeply unhappy with Western society and its way of life. We live in a time of the greatest of changes to our world. I think we must take greater care of our planet. The Icelandic volcano of April 2010 is both a planetary release of tension and just as the Jews followed a pillar and a cloud that led them into the Promised Land so we must also use the guidance of our planet to inspire us to create a better world for everyone who inhabits it, both now and in the future.

Barbara Meiklejohn-Free was interviewed by Wendy Stokes

http://www.wendystokes.co.uk/

To find out more about Barbara please visit www.barbarameiklejohnfree.com

I was taught to love the Earth in all her beauty and mystery, through folk tales and science in equal proportion. There was nothing of glamour attached to magic. It was simply there- always and everywhere.

I work in field sales, and one of the privileges of that job is to organize one’s own workload. So, as Thursday dawned windy, but gloriously sunny, I decided to visit customers in the Cotswolds and treat my city–sated soul to the beauty of thatched cottages and rolling English hills. For some reason, I threw a pair of jeans and my painting easel in the car along with the files, which I’ve never done before.

I had a good day with customers and my final visit took me nearby the Rollright Stones, a stone circle set in a ring of trees on top of a hill. I went there once before with a friend and had shown him how to dowse with copper rods. This was the first time I’d been on my own and, being midweek, I had the site almost to myself.

I parked in the lane and stripped off my business suit, feeling that as I did so, I was stripping away the world’s perception of my persona. Donning jeans and T-shirt brought me back to simplicity devoid of pretension or pretence. Leaving the mobile phone behind, I stepped away from the humdrum need to make survival money and felt I crossed more than one threshold as I walked between the gateposts.

The circle, though weathered, is almost complete. The stones stand like broken teeth around a green lawn, not manicured, but scattered with daisies like little bright stars lifting their faces to the Light. The path enters the circle at the wrong place. A stone there has fallen, leaving a natural entrance, but it was never the original portal. Nevertheless, I enter the circle, and as there is no-one around to notice, I bow to the Light and enter barefoot, treading deosil around the perimeter.

The sand is hot underfoot, the circle sheltered from the wind by a horseshoe of trees, but here and there little dust devils dance. At the four quarters, flowers have been left as offerings, Sweet Williams, with their heady scent and blood red petals, stark against the white and ochre of the lichen covered stones. Last night was the summer solstice, and I have heard that this ring is still used by devotees of the Craft. I know that I will find the same flowers at the King Stone, a single monolith, as well as at the fallen burial chamber called the Whispering Knights, which form a triangle with the original entrance to the circle.

Circles and triangles take my mind to the Tree of Life with its great inrush of Cosmic Force and I wonder what the ancients were doing when they built this Temple of Light.

I walk to the centre of the lawn and sit, cross legged, in the circle. I am no longer alone; four men are also seated on the grass, talking quietly. We are isolated here and perhaps I should be careful. Yet I know there is no threat and a deep serenity enfolds me. One of the men stands to leave and I hear the words “Blessed be” repeated softly.

The sky above is clear blue, scattered with clouds chasing each other in the wind. There is no road noise here; the only sounds are the birds and the rustling of leaves, overlaid by the muted conversation of the men. I close my eyes and begin the fourfold breathing as I have been taught. My body relaxes and I sink into the landscape.

In my mind I see the circle as a great chalice. It is empty save for its memories, yet I feel it was meant to be full of Light, a beacon for the soul. An empty vessel fulfils no purpose. The chalice is a vessel which gives form to that with which it is filled.

From the centre of the circle I renew my pledge of service. Around me I feel the wind spiralling into a great silver vortex, carrying me skywards on the wings of faith, yet the Earth is steady and solid beneath me and the grass tickles my feet in the slight breeze. Reality contradicts itself and I let it carry me with it, humbled and awed.

The vortex climbs through the azure haze, upwards, outwards, expanding and encompassing, the rhythm a great heartbeat as a counterpoint to my own, carrying reflected Light back to the heavens. The spiralling slows, stops climbing and rests, perfectly balanced on the point of the vortex in the circle where I sit. Then I am falling, in decreasing circles as it winds down and down, until the wind rushes through the Earth, in a subterranean vortex of white fire, funnelled from on high. The afternoon sun is warm on my upturned face as I swirl ever faster in the rushing fire. I can feel a pressure mounting. Suddenly, the fire spreads through the stones and out across the landscape. I can see it among the stars, a vast net of pure white force, veins of lambent silver spreading out across the land, carrying Light like blood.

One of the men laughs softly and that seems to fit. Joy is allowed. I open my eyes and smile, a smile shared by the men. Inside I feel different, a golden serenity which carries me home to my hearth.

Later, leafing through a book while I wait to kidnap the bathroom from my hoard of teenagers, I read the author’s words on how to honour the ancient places and smile. Perhaps those who work still at Roll Right have kept it alive. It is I who was honoured today. Call it imagination or daydream if you will. I only know how it has made me feel and that today was a day of unforgettable beauty.

By: Sue Vincent

The temple received several tiger cubs where the mothers had been killed by poachers.

As of 2007, over twenty one cubs have been born at the temple and the total number of tigers is about twelve tigers and four cubs.

CHECK OUT THESE MOST BEAUTIFUL CREATURES ON THE VIDEOS BELOW

Rites of Passage are taken when someone feels they are ready to pass into a new phase in their life.

Many years ago, I was drawn to form a women’s Shamanic journeying group; a community of women that would come together, bond and support each other, and where in a safe and nurturing environment, we could help to heal ourselves and each other. It would be a place where we could sing, chant, laugh, cry and drum and celebrate being women, as well as being held in the loving arms of Mother Earth, our ancestors, and all the women from our bloodline and spiritual heritage.

So, once a month a group of women meet in Heron’s House, which has grown and flourished in to a loving and working community. The Heron who sits and watches all, who circles low and whose wings are wide and graceful as she soars into the sky, inspired the name. Her skull and feathers hang from the shield that together we crafted; her energy walks with us. The women of the house have been part of many wonderful rites. All participate in whatever rite we are performing. They are all held in reverence, with pure intent, and are always full of fun, happiness and laughter. We held a croning rite where some thirty women gathered- the energy was amazing. We have had baby welcoming and baby naming ceremonies, and last summer saw the most beautiful re-dedication of love, and more.

So many beautiful reasons we have in this journey we walk to celebrate turning points in our lives. I celebrated the birth of my first granddaughter with a croning ceremony. I embraced this new phase and it was with great celebration that I did so. When we look back at special times in our lives, it is so nice to remember them with joy. One of the most beautiful and, I believe, the most important celebration, is a girl’s first blood rite. I would like to share one with you.

One of our women, Lisa, a dedicated and active member of Heron’s House, approached me to tell me that her daughter Charlotte wanted to ask me something special. Charlotte then went on to ask if we would share her joy, as she had just started her first bleed. At the age of thirteen she has been to many of our gatherings, and I felt so honoured that she wanted to share this transition from one life stage to another with us.

Now we share it with you…

First Blood Rite
The day was dry and there was a chill in the air. The women of the House of Heron waited for the girl child and her mother to join them. They chanted, their voices rising in harmony. The energy began to weave the magic that was about to unfold. The crone waited by the doorway as the girl, dressed in white and with a garland of white flowers upon her head, approached on the arm of her mother. ‘What is your business here today?’ the crone asked. The mother replied “I have come here with my child to lead her with honour into the face of her womanhood.’ To the child the crone spoke, ‘Are you ready to embrace the beauty of your blood flow and the sacredness of your womb; to embrace the passing of your childhood into your maidenhood?’ The child replied that she was ready and with grace and ease, mother and child entered the House of Heron where the women of the clan waited.

Chanting, and with beautiful grace, the women sprinkled the girl with red and white petals as she was gently laid upon the white furs. The women gathered around and decorated her young body with art and spirals; patterns emerged as the voices sang out in joyous celebration.

The child was sat up and the crone spoke to her of the beauty of her sacredness, of her ability as a woman to bring forth life from within her womb if it was a part of her journey in this lifetime. Crone offered her a silver spoonful of honey and told the child of the sweetness of life, and what it can bring. Crone then gave her a slice of sour apple and spoke of the bitterness of life that she would taste.
The girl was then walked to the four quarters where she was questioned about her intentions; she was given a blessing as the spirits of Earth, Air, Fire and Water welcomed her. More chants were heard as the women sang their joy of the girl child who had become a woman.

Gifts were exchanged, and laughter and happiness filled the air. The mother had given her daughter a white necklace as a gift before the rite and now she stood before her daughter and took the white necklace away, replacing it with a tiny red stone, as a mark of recognition of her first blood flow. The women gathered around the girl to encase her once more within a womb. They chanted a birthing chant and with grace and ease the mother’s legs parted, and her child was born a woman.

The crone’s hands delivered her to her mother and her words were ‘Hold your woman daughter and embrace her as you did at her birth, as she was born to you from your sacred womb years ago’.
As the mother held her daughter, a red cord was placed around her waist. She was instructed to tie a knot in the cord each day until her next flow. Her white headdress was removed, and in it’s place a red garland was placed. The girl later made an offering of her white headdress to the Goddess who sits in the corner by the altar in the women’s house.
Great joy and stories were shared. Bread and mead were blessed and shared in celebration. Their rite of passage was made complete with the presence, love and blessings of the ancestral women of this land who walked here before us.

A truly beautiful day of great celebration. The girl child had walked into the arms of her womanhood, blessed by the spirits of her bloodline and spiritual heritage, blessed by her family and her community.

Charlottes Mother spoke these words: “How perfectly wonderful, just the thought of a rite purely to celebrate our daughter’s first blood. We felt that there could not be a better or more fitting way, for Charlotte to embrace such a fundamental change in her father’s mind, or mine, that she would be given an informed and educated choice to partake in such celebration. The day was a blessing for us all. As for Charlotte, she seemed to change from that day; she became more confident and self-assured with a sense of belonging that helped her step into her womanhood with ease. All young women should have the opportunity to experience a rite like this, which was so profound and enjoyable’.

Charlotte then commented: ‘Before my rite, I participated in the woman’s group and ceremonies when I could. Basically I was part of my mother’s group (or at least that’s how I saw it. Then, after my blood rite, when I attended I was there for me, and as me. I came because I wanted to, and felt that I belonged. The day was so special and I felt special. I was showered with beautiful gifts that I keep in my wooden chest; not just conventional ones, but ones that I would keep for life with a memory, and a sense of acceptance as me and who I had become. At first, I felt a little awkward celebrating something my school friends had told me was a burden, something horrible you have to deal with. But I will never forget that day, how special it was, and how life changing it was for me.”
Heron’s House, the heart of our centre, Caer Corhrain, stands in the magic of the marshlands in Kent, where now we have a men’s journeying group, the Men of Heron, run by Martyn Yates.
We feel the need for these rites to be more active in today’s society; they help with these stages in life that can frighten and bewilder us. They also give loved ones an opportunity to celebrate a part of ones journey. For me, I find it a great honour to facilitate a ceremony for someone and to be a part of a special transition in his or her life.

If this story has moved you and you feel drawn to perform your own rite for a small or a large group, or for your own daughter, then find the courage to do so and all will unfold with grace and ease. Trust your own intuition. You can go to books for ideas, although I prefer not to and I like to formulate my own. You too can do this for yourself. Books can give you a structure if you feel you need some help and somewhere to start.
I suggest you do as I do, and just let your heart be your guide. No two people are the same. The energy is never the same, so don’t be rigid in your approach to any rite or ceremony you wish to perform. Think about the person or persons you are performing the rite for, talk to them, and the ideas will start to fill you with excitement. This way, your rite will always be fresh and exciting, never boring.
Everything around us is changing. Today is different from yesterday, and tomorrow will be different from today. This moment has just passed, never to be repeated. So: be bold, be brave, and form and work your own rite or ceremony in your own way. Do what feels right in your heart. It’s fun, and it makes it even more special if it’s never been done that way before. Be always truthful, honest and have the right pure intent, and all will flow…with grace and ease.

Blessed Be
Written by Lynn Gosney – 07 01 2006 (copyright)

www.touchtearth.co.uk