Longing is that deep-seated knowing of the heart, the inboard GPS system of the salmon that unfailingly finds the same river bed it was spawned in, or the swallow its nesting site. It is our longing for true home. What awakens the awareness of theis deep longing in us, remains a personal event.


The Arrow 

of Longing

From the book Shamanic Druidry (Aindriú Peers)


"I am about twenty-four or twenty-five and had already been looking for a job in the church for about a year, but cannot find it. I am a guest of the Franciscans in a neo-Gothic style priory hidden in the misty hills of North Wales. I don’t know exactly what I'm looking for, but soon feel I'm at the wrong address. One evening while sitting with other potential candidates in the chapel and feeling at the end of my rope, I mumble, "I don’t know… I give up."


Many years later a meditation teacher was to say, “Stop hunting and it comes to you". Well, that’s what happened then: "It came to me." In that instant, something suddenly pierced my heart right through. Was I 'touched by God', as it is sometimes described in books on mysticism? Was the splinter of light, the arrow that flew towards me out of the monstrance on the altar the living flame of Love? I don’t know. But from that moment on, I knew myself wounded with an exquisite longing, and this inner wound became the compass on a path that I would never have chosen for myself."


I had put the above incident to one side after leaving the monastery and then Christianity in general. Only years later did I connect its meaning with Cernunnos, also called Herne the Hunter (and other associated names, notably Hesus or Jesus, Jeshua). This helped me re-embrace the experience, along with its many subsequent years of devotional practice as a monk.


Love is indeed a hunter, and goes around looking for an open and willing heart, to 'kill'. 


More on page the Merlin lineage 





The Latin word tueor, to gaze or contemplate, forms the root of the modern word ‘intuition’. By educating myself in intuition, I can learn, in the words of the poet Rilke, to live from a deeper place. But this kind of education is more an ‘unlearning’ so as to arrive at what one meditation teacher called ‘beginner’s mind’.


 To regain the power of the mind, the power to choose, we first learn to look at the ego-thought system. We can look at it with Cenunnos by our side, innocent and gentle Lord of the Forest. Or with some other symbol of our innocence. The key point is that we do not look at the ego WITH the ego.


Looking is the supreme power of the quiet mind, and supremely simple. In order to escape the problem of the ego, we quietly have to look at it first. Look with whatever figure or symbol of innocence that reminds us of our own innocence, and not alone. The problem is not outside, because there is nothing outside. Everything is still in our mind, and has never left it.


Forgiveness quietly dispels our projections 'outwards'. It is still and does nothing. It merely looks, waits, and does not judge. It looks at what is devastation and reminds the mind that what it sees is false.  


The World


There is nothing in this universe that doesn't follow the pattern of decay and death, and there is nothing here that can seemingly live without something else dying. This is all part and parcel of the ego's thought system, set up as a defence against the reality of our infinite spirit, for which we have a deep unconscious fear. The world is impressive until we learn to really look at what it is; a cover over our own unconscious thought system.


By definition, we are not consciously aware of the unconscious, so how to access it? Fortunately, there is a way of reaching and correcting it. By looking at the universe and forgiving it (as an ego-projection), we use it (mastery) as a means to return to the true home we already are and paradoxically long for.


The Longing Look


Empowerment comes by simply looking at the world, as soon as we see that there are two ways of looking. This looking has a soft and secret feeling to it. No-one may notice. It is done quietly, in the solitude of the mind.


The word monastic comes from ‘monos’ and means single or alone, often interpreted only to mean celibate living in community for 'professional' religious. However, are we not all alone in some sense, and all a monk? Spiritual practice has a private, almost quasi-monastic quality. Now aloneness is embraced as a source of inspiration. It becomes an intuitive approach to life, learned and mastered by truly looking. It harnesses the deepest longing of the heart, the longing to finally go home.