The first time I sat beside the Thames and felt its breath moving through me, I didn’t call it Druidry. I didn’t call it anything at all. There was no ritual, no robe, no sacred chant whispered into the wind. Just a stillness. A sense that I had stumbled into a conversation already in progress – between water and stone, current and moon, memory and presence. That moment wasn’t a beginning or an epiphany. But if I were to map my Druid path from here to there, it might be the place I’d draw the first spiral.
I’m often asked, now, what Druidry is. Not academically, not even always spiritually – just… what is it? Is it a religion? A philosophy? A kind of nature-based mindfulness? Something old and mysterious, or something new and made-up? And where do I, a queer neurodivergent man living in suburban London with a Labrador and a growing collection of fox folklore, fit into that?
This is my answer – or at least, a glimpse of it.
Continue reading “What Is Druidry?”
The London Druid 