Toward Ecosophy

It was seven years ago today that I stepped down as Grand Archdruid of the Ancient Order of Druids in America, after twelve years in that order's hot seat. Those twelve years had been a wild ride, no question; I learned a lot and had a lot of good times, but it was time to go on to other things, and the order had plenty of senior members who were capable, enthusiastic, and able to get along with people. So I stepped down and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

The aftermath was entertaining. People in half a dozen corners of the Druid scene insisted that I couldn't possibly have done that. The forum of one Druid group, the Order of Bards Ovates and Druids, got so insistent about it that then-Chosen Chief Philip Carr-Gomm had to step in and tell everybody that yes, I'd resigned my position and had emailed him about it. Once people stopped claiming that I hadn't resigned, dark rumors started to circulate; the best of the lot was a claim that two other members of the Grand Grove were supposedly having an illicit affair and had somehow blackmailed me into stepping down. I chuckled about that one for weeks.

It's always intrigued me that so many people literally don't seem to be able to imagine giving up a position like that. I suppose the thought of having a fancy title and a funny hat, and whatever swaggering rights come with being the head of a small nonprofit in the alternative-spirituality field goes to their head or something. I've occasionally thought of founding an order whose activities consist entirely of handing out ornate titles to its members, in the hope that this might satisfy what's apparently an undersupplied market. Still, the point a lot of people seem to miss is that these organizations don't exist to take overinflated egos and puff them up even further; there's genuine work to to, and it's the work that matters.

All this is relevant today, because I've done it again.

Just less than ten years ago, as my book The Celtic Golden Dawn was coming off the presses, my wife Sara and I founded an organization, the Druidical Order of the Golden Dawn. Its purpose was to teach the eccentric hybrid Golden Dawn/Druid system of magic I'd recovered from a mostly forgotten spectrum of between-the-wars British organizations,  reverse-engineered from the surviving fragments, field-tested at great length, and published. The DOGD has had its ups and downs, but by and large it's succeeded very well in being exactly what I wanted it to be: a modestly sized and very quiet magical order that helped a good many people work their way through the Celtic GD curriculum. As with AODA, it ended up with a good number of senior members who were capable, enthusiastic, and able to get along with people -- that is to say, more than ready to take charge of the organization themselves.

So that's what just happened. I'd like to encourage everyone to congratulate the new governing body of the DOGD:  Dean Smith, Archdruid of Fire and new head of the order; Pauline Bicker, Archdruid of Water and Chief Druid; Wayne Cayea,  Archdruid of Air and Chief Ovate; and Steve Thomas, Archdruid of Earth and Chief Bard.  They've been effectively in charge of DOGD for some months now, and Sara and I finished the formal handover today.

I'm waiting gleefully to see whether anyone insists that I can't possibly have resigned as head of DOGD, and whether dark rumors get splashed around the internet insisting that there must be some sinister reason for my resignation. The facts of the matter are that my ego is sufficiently robust that I don't need fancy titles and funny hats to bolster it -- and, of course, it really is the work that matters. With that in mind -- why, on to the next adventure!