What of her in these times of destruction and division? She is angry and she is hungry. Furious at humanity and hungry for punishment and resolution.
The forest is on fire and the walls around her dwelling, which is now a fortress, are higher than they’ve ever been before.
The horsemen are dressed in black. Their armour heavy in readiness for destruction of its own kind – complete elimination of nature and all that is human. They are ready to carry out her will.
She’s furious and in mourning for humanity that is no longer… yet there’s an opening, a small one, a loose panel in her fortress wall for those, who are still aware of their soul; that element that remains unaffected, pure and unchanged. Hope it is not, but a connection to what they are from the root. She thinks of those, who have some memory of where to go to become whole again. However faint the memory is by now, it is still there and she smells it.
I feel small and insignificant in the face of all reality and such is my preference during these years. Resignation and tiredness are part of my day-to-day and only participation in watching it all burn remains. Hopeless anguish. Despite it all I wait for the time to rise again when the voice can be heard from the depth of the forest summoning the brave and crooked; open anew to learning; in eternal love for what remains of nature external and within. Even if only one tiny flower can be saved, it will be worth doing. If only one soul can be awakened, it will be worth the work and hardship. As one wise human said: ‘For as long as there is birdsong, we must listen.’
And for now, we scream, we rage and we sob until the sky above is cloudless once again and there’s renewed stillness in the heart.
Aren’t you? Don’t you have the mothering buried within you; instinctual knowing how to heal and be with? Don’t you hold a wise Crone within yourself ready to step forward? Have you not been dismissed, put down, devalued, and feared? Has your heart not broken over and over for the planet and humanity? This is what a witch is, and all women belong to that tribe.
I am not concerned with titles, labels, and names even though I understand one’s yearning for identity in a world that seeks belonging. We look outwards to be given an identity rather than knowing who we are from inside out. We take on external labels gladly as it makes us feel safe and of a tribe.
WHO ARE YOU? This is the question Baba Yaga asks as all that matters is you knowing yourself. Once you do, you can make a difference to absolutely everything.
I heard her say ‘Get on a horse’ and without hesitation I got into my car and drove to the woods that called me. She was all around and Samhain felt near. I felt calm and ready to commune with her.
The woods kept changing atmosphere from grey and wet to light and shimmering. Autumnal light streamed through the golden tops of blackened tree bodies. I felt a sense of intention and joy within. She was near and I was reassured. I realised her confidence-building purpose and quality as I developed my own inner hearing. She is and always has been on the side of the feminine and healing of the wounded maiden was just one intention she carried. Today I truly felt that having been through the maiden and mother stages.
Cronehood is a stage I truly look forward to and even more so with her by my side. I am excited and curious about things to come. Today she was full of lessons and the more I engaged with her the more I felt I could truly understand the symbology and meaning behind her one-sentenced phrases. She doesn’t say much and very intentional with what she discloses. She spoke of the importance of our bodies, physicality and how our disconnection from the animal-selves caused discord and imbalance in many areas as a result. She spoke of nature and landscape as essential parts to any life as they hold the animal-self within offering us to connect back to the earth, the self and spirit of things. Only through deeply feeling into the physical and matter-like within us we can encounter the spirit. It is all interconnected.
She spoke of how we disempower ourselves via covering up by dying our hair, messing about with nails and shaving off what’s intended to be there. And not only that we create a world of shame, unacceptable, conforming and pleasing to the external as a result. We cut off from the natural self by avoiding our own beauty, the natural kind. Our crown becomes dimmed with chemicals and that magic that can be felt in the fingers is dimmed. I can relate to the fingers holding the paper well and am guilty of not looking after myself in that area. I connected instantly to the message of disempowering myself by not being kind and nurturing to myself. It saddened me.
With the crone hood stage we are invited to delve into another stage of coming back to ourselves. I feel excited by it.
Last year she spoke her word to me, which I turned into a book. It comes out in December and I look forward to sharing the message with more women around the world.
“You have given the world a delightful and deep examination of Baba Yaga from your insightful and learned perspective. Thank you.
In a world where uncertainty and fear are the currency of the day, we can become enchanted by a sort of artificial lightness that ultimately only makes us more anxious. We become terrified of the dark. Yet it is in the dimness of our own souls that we find refuge from the harshness of life.
If we are able to peer into this darkness we may see a peculiar little house governed by a curious figure. Baba Yaga, crone of legend, greets us with a glint in her eye, and a question on her lips. “Who are you?” she inquires with a cackle. Natalia Clarke answers this question, while exploring the stories and characteristics of Baba Yaga through traditional lore and personal insights. Merging together her Slavic origins, training in depth psychology, and natural spiritual practices, she is our companion as we venture into the mysteries of this face of the crone. Beautifully written with journal entries, dream explorations, and ways to connect with Baba Yaga, I highly recommend this delightful book for anyone who wants to go deeper into her mysteries.”
Primordial land is the monument to eternity. Jagged, raw, windswept into position of timelessness. Wild grasses and flowers scatter across the cliff tops and the land and sea are like the oldest companions of all elemental beauty. It doesn’t just tag at your heart and takes your breath away it consumes your soul.
With a single breath one transports into a place of deep belonging to the times long gone yet still running through your blood. It is a sort of remembrance for me. I know who I am there instantly. There are no barriers or limits, only recognition between the primal in me and the land. There’s no feeling like it.
I describe that feeling as merging with the core of something so familiar. Rocks are like tough thick lizard-like skin and breathe of the sea and mountains is like cells weaving together to form a being that can not be described, only felt from within.
It is a shape shifting experience one might say that is effortless there. It feels like wings and claws can grow out of the body and an animal-self comes home. Otherworldly place yet deeply grounding, which makes it a true manifestation of spirit on Earth type of experience. Heavenly, surreal yet so physically felt with all senses in perfect alignment that can be overwhelming. But the land holds you tight in its casing of rocks, plants and roaring water that you can’t help but become it.
Raw Nature Spirit 
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