Lots of history, but here and now can be elusive
Forming spiritual roots with the land where I’m living is important to me, so this is a progress report after two years in Wales.
Wales does have ancient sacred sites: stone circles like Gors Fawr, and henges called cromlech. However, they seem less well known and less visited than sites elsewhere, such as Avebury or Calanais. Pre-Christian spirituality was vibrant in Wales, with the druids playing a key role, but that tradition seems quiescent now.
Christianity has a rich history in Wales, starting with the Romans, and shaped by contact with Europe and the Desert Fathers. The monastery of Saint Illtud in Glamorgan was founded in the fifth century, and at its peak had 2000 students. Several of the early Welsh saints had noble ancestry and mythical associations: Illtud is said to be a cousin of King Arthur.
Strata Florida Monastery, Ceredigion
There are quite a few ruined monasteries across Wales, and something of their spiritual history can still be felt. One of my favourites is Strata Florida (Latin for Valley of Flowers), in the beautiful upper valley of the River Teifi.
In my search for spiritual roots here, it’s places that have been most resonant. Besides ruined monasteries, there are still hundreds of holy wells across Wales, a few often visited, most obscure: see more here or here. And there are many churches which are deeply atmospheric, frequently built on holy springs or other pre-Christian sites.
One of my favourite churches is Saint Ellyw’s, in Llanelieu, near Talgarth. It’s deep in the Black Mountains, beside a small steep stream, dating from the thirteenth century, but named for Saint Ellyw, a princess martyr of the fifth century. Its oval, walled churchyard is a typical sign of a pre-Christian site.
St Ellyw’s, Llanelieu, Black Mountains
Maybe you’ve deduced that my search has been quite solitary. In the past, I’ve found a lot of wisdom and support in spiritual communities: both formal ones like Hilfield Friary or the sangha at Chithurst, and New Age centres like Findhorn Foundation. I’ve not found anything like these in Wales: the closest I’ve come is the Cistercian monastery on Caldey Island, see my blog here. But an island three miles off Tenby with an erratic ferry is hardly accessible!
With its deep spiritual roots, you’d think Wales would be fertile ground for a spiritual community, and this is one aim of a project I’m assisting: the Deep Roots Community. We hope that such a place would involve native Welsh people alongside incomers, and would embody the spirituality of this land.
The word spirituality is a broad term: I’m using it to mean connection with the divine in some way: those qualities that are beyond the personal, material zone. I find this quality in many Welsh landscapes: not only the high mountains of Eryri (Snowdonia), but the wild hills of mid-Wales, such as the Mynydd Epynt, and the spectacular coast.
It’s clear that for Welsh people, the Welsh language is a vital part of their sense of nationality. Several of my contacts describe a whole stadium singing the Welsh national anthem as a spiritual experience. Welsh language choirs sound angelic to me: try this recording of Ar Hyd Y Nos (All Through the Night in English). A good example of the elusive present!