The whisperers between the worlds…The Fae.

Listen…

Can you hear them?

Rustling through the trees

Gliding down on a falling leaf

Exhaling as you turn to face the dappled sun, warming your face once crisp pink in the autumn air

Casting you into a moment of pure presence, where suddenly with the light, the falling leaf, the sounds cascading through your ears…

Life is magical.

Suddenly you remember how grateful you are to be alive.

To be here, now, in this body.

You reach for your phone to capture the magnificence, but it’s not enough.

It can only be captured in the divinity of presence.

So you put down the phone, and you sit.

You let the dappled sunlight touch your face and with its warmth a smile grows from the inside.

A warmth is spreading through you, similar to what you know as arousal in a sexual context.

But here in the trees is surely not a time to feel sexual!

“It’s not sex,” you hear a whisper within and without… “it’s aliveness.”

Aliveness. Life. That is what pleasure is.

Pleasure is presence meeting aliveness.

And it’s here - they cheer! You get it, you finally get it!

You begin to dance, spontaneously and without music.

But then the wind picks up and it’s playing you a song, a melody wild and sweet.

You feel free and alive in a strange and absurd way - yet simultaneously, you feel completely and utterly normal.

Finishing your dance you come to lay against a tree - strong, ancient, sturdy.

All those tree-huggers might’ve had the right idea.

In a snap, you feel a whiplash for all the judgements you’ve cast on hippies and weirdos…

How can I judge them when I clearly am one too?

Walking back to the car, you feel as if your battery has been charged to 111%.

Your to-do list feels entirely achievable and more - yet you remember that you’re soon to bleed,

So you’ll allow this energy to be a slow burn.

Getting into the car, you look back to the forest and wonder how such a place can bring so much insight.

You think of the flavour and quality of your thoughts while you were in there,

Richer, wiser, calmer than your usual racing anxious mind.

Why is that?

Can you guess?

Who they were?

Who rode on the leaves, and guided her back to herself?

Why the faeries, of course.

Not small creatures with wings and glitter -
but old ones, wise ones.

The spirits of the land.

The whisperers between the worlds.

The Fae.

I have always believed in faeries.

Not a single day has passed - from my muddy, barefoot childhood to my grown womanhood - where that belief hasn’t hummed gently in the background of my being.

And as I’ve reconnected to my Celtic roots, that belief has only grown stronger.

I now see it less as a sweet fantasy, and more as a deep ancestral truth.

In Celtic tradition, faeries (Aos Sí) are the spirits of the land, nature beings, guardians of the wild, messengers between worlds.

Not the glittery cartoon kind, but ancient, wise, playful, sometimes mischievous, and deeply magical.

They are tied to the forest, to the seasons, to the spiral of birth-death-rebirth. 

To feminine mystery. To the unseen. To beauty, shadow, and song…no wonder I love them!

I think it’s time for me to come out of the Faerie closet, I love Fae, in fact I believe I could be part fae.

And since owning this belief, it turns out a LOT of other people feel the same way,

Perhaps Fae isn’t your lineage per say,

Maybe you are of the Witches, the Anansi, Mami Wata, Baba Yaga, Valkyries, Nagas…

Whatever your myth, your magic - I am here for it, and I welcome it.