by Al D
Al D was a British practitioner whose encounters with a peculiar woodland in Dorset generated one of the more sustained first-person accounts on alt.religion.shamanism. His original post about the wood — already preserved in this archive — described two visits to a silent, face-filled place where he sensed a threshold had been crossed. This second essay, posted 31 January 2006, picks up a month or two later. The wood has followed him home. Through music (a 1970s German rock band, whose track names turn out to be alarmingly apt), shamanic journey, and the gradual deepening of an inner relationship with a spirit-power he cannot yet name, Al D documents the strange ongoing aftermath of a place visit. His account is unusual in its precision about process — how the power works, what it does, what it does not do — and in its candor about the personal life it has displaced and healed.
My relationship with the aforementioned enchanted wood has developed further since my last post. It's like nothing I have ever heard of, either in fairy tale, legend or in any account by a fellow human being. I feel inspired to share my experiences with readers of this newsgroup because some of the responses to my other posts have been helpful in that they have offered insights and suggestions about how I should interpret and approach these experiences. I also hope that my experiences will be of some help to fellow seekers in the mysteries of nature and spirit who are of a good heart and whose motives are pure.
Note that I have gone back to calling it an "enchanted wood" as opposed to a "haunted wood," since "enchanted" better reflects my current impression of the place. Some of my initial assumptions may have been wrong. For example, when I recall the tree stump in which I saw the most life-like face, I said I thought it looked like a man being crucified. I can remember also thinking that the "arms" extending out from the shoulders looked like eagle's wings.
My relationship with the wood — and my knowledge of its secrets — has been developing ever since my most recent visit. The human imagination tends to jump to conclusions when faced with something new and outside of previous experience. I jumped to some conclusions about that wood in my instinctive need to rationalise my experience. Those conclusions may, or may not have been correct, but my more recent experiences are opening my mind to new possibilities.
When I first approached that wood during that unusual snowstorm, I spoke out directly, as if in prayer, to the spirits of the place. I had no idea what sort of spirits I was talking to, but I had a faith that they would hear me, especially because I felt we were under close scrutiny as we entered that place. I already anticipated that some powerful spirits resided in that place because of the rumours I had heard — such as the fact that no bird song can be heard there. I asked the spirits to look upon me favourably. I proposed to them that we could form a relationship that would be of mutual benefit in some way. I also dropped an offering to the ground: a few seeds and nuts. This is a practice that I learned from Native American medicine ways.
Music as Sign
I certainly made some startling observations in that wood on my first visit, as I have previously recounted. And likewise on my second visit. However, it is since these two visits that I have become aware of more, even though I am located some 50 miles from the wood.
The first thing that happened was that I was led by spirit or intuition to locate some music by an early-1970s German rock band called Amon Duul II. The first album I stumbled across was called "Yeti," recorded in 1970. Two tracks in particular conveyed to me exactly the same feeling or atmosphere I experienced in the wood, in a very real way. This afternoon, I decided, out of curiosity, to find out what the titles of the tracks were. There are no lyrics in these tracks; they are instrumentals.
The first one is called "Cerebus." Cerebus was a vicious three-headed watchdog who guarded the entrance to the lower world in Greek mythology. The second track, which follows on immediately, turns out to be called "Return of the Ruebezahl." Hmmm — "Ruebezahl," I thought. That sounds mysterious. So I did a web search to find out about "Ruebezahl."
To my amazement, Ruebezahl turns out to be a character mentioned in Germanic folklore, but also heard of in Bohemia, Moravia and Czechoslovakia. A Usenet post from February 2000 reveals that Ruebezahl was a goblin, believed to be the evil alter ego of Krakonos, the good caretaker of the mountains, and he was blamed for snowstorms. This got my attention, big time. Not only did this fit in with the fact that the wood is on a high hill, but it also fits in with the strange occurrence of the sudden snowstorm that started as we approached the wood (the first and only snowstorm I have experienced this winter). The concept of alter-ego also got my attention. Remember how I mentioned that the first face I saw in the tree stump changed from that of a 30-something man into that of a goblin-type character with a ghastly expression that conveyed an inhuman emotion of revulsion or animosity? So these facts could certainly be construed as significant.
Shamanic Journey to the Wood
I am not able to travel to the wood in person as often as I would like due to the distance and my busy schedule. So a couple of weeks ago, I resorted to another method of travel: that which some users of this group are familiar with — the shamanic journey. It was my involvement with shamanism that helped create the train of events that led me to the enchanted wood. So I decided to journey via the underworld to the location of the wood for the purpose of exploration.
I found the location without much difficulty after the long but speedy journey on horseback. To be immediately underneath the wood was a thrill mixed with a certain trepidation: a natural wariness of the unknown. However, no remarkable events happened during that journey, except for the same feeling of awe that I always get when thinking of or visiting that place. However, when I returned to this plane of existence, I felt as though something new had entered my consciousness. I found I was sensing the world in a different way — as though through the senses of a different person; I was aware of certain aromas in my house that were previously beyond my perception. Shamans talk about soul retrieval. I felt as though part of my soul had been restored — but not necessarily with a soul-part that has ever been part of me before. Anyway, I can only describe the result as "nourishing." I felt more complete, more balanced, more at peace within, due to the new power I felt connected to.
The Power of the Place
The elder gent who originally told me of the strange wood described the wood as a "power place." I did not press him to explain what he meant at the time. However, I am now starting to understand what he may have meant, because since my contact with the wood, I have started to experience a power that I first encountered in the wood. I would like to talk to you about this power, and would be interested if any of you have heard of, or experienced, anything like it.
So what form does this "power" take? All I can say is what I have directly experienced. The power has some connection with my emotions. It appeals to my emotions and seems somehow connected with my general level of morale. It seems, if anything, to be growing rather than fading as time passes. This excites me — it does not trouble me.
When I first visited that wood, I was in the middle of a rather troublesome infatuation with a woman. I felt a strong connection with her and was hooked on her company. Such romantic notions are normally considered a positive thing, but in this particular case, it worried me, because I don't think she was open to a relationship developing between us. She came with us on the first visit to the wood, but apart from seeing one of the faces in the trees (albeit not the same face, apparently), she did not seem as powerfully impressed with the unusual nature of the wood as I was. I suspect her inner censor was blocking a lot of things out from her awareness.
A couple of weeks later when I made plans to revisit the wood with her, she declined to come along, making some excuse about being too tired and too busy. So I decided to wait another week before asking her again, but she still declined. So I decided to go alone.
It was since that second visit that my enchantment has been diverted away from the woman and towards the wood. It is the first time in my life that I have ever experienced anything like this. Most people look towards other humans for a source of intrigue and romance to enrich their inner well-being and morale. Now, for the first time in my life, I was starting to feel an equally satisfying kind of emotional support from a very different source: the wood. Or perhaps a spirit — or spirits — located in that wood.
This spirit is something that I now frequently sense within my mind, or "tune into." The spirit I am tuning in to is devoid of negativity. There seems to be nothing sinister about it. On the contrary, it feels powerful and magical, mystical and restorative, nourishing and fulfilling. I don't know who or what it is that has graced my daily experience with its presence, but it seems to be full of potential and it feels as though it could be the best thing that has ever happened to me. It is as though a doorway to spirit realms has opened up to me. And that is interesting, because during my first visit to that wood, there was a gust of wind that passed through the branches overhead, and it seemed like a doorway or portal into another realm right above me had opened — perhaps even a heavenly realm.
The human mind has a tendency to rationalise experiences that are totally new and outside the scope of previous experience. I'm not even going to try to rationalise my experience or jump to any conclusions. I am just going to try to enjoy it and make the most of it, and try to sustain a continuing good relationship with it. And of course, treat it with respect.
What the Spirit Has Done
How has this spirit — or its power — actually helped me, so far? Well, for one thing, it has diverted my emotions away from the lady I was besotted by — which I see as a good thing, because it was a one-sided affair. She seemed to have an odd mentality and I don't think she trusted me, and that troubled me. I am very lucky that I no longer feel utterly captivated by her, thanks to the wood or the spirit(s) therein. And remember, the aid of the wood's spirits was exactly what I asked for when I first entered that place.
The feeling I have towards the spirit — or spirit-power — that I seem to have tuned in to has certainly won my awe and reverence. I almost feel that it seems worthy of "worship." That's how I feel every time I tune in to that spirit or spirit-power, or travel back to that wood — whether in the third dimension, or in my memory, or via shamanic journey. That wood feels as though it is in some ways the centre of my world: a place that holds something for me exquisitely worthy of attention — perhaps even devotion. If I feel down or disheartened by events, I only have to think of that wood and its spirit, and I receive a restorative charge of its amazing power.
Have any of you heard of anything like this? I am not at all well-read in folklore and mysticism. I am wary of jumping to any hasty conclusions about what I am experiencing, but would still appreciate any insights anyone can offer or suggest. I am not sure if it is always wise to be too quick to rationalise, name or interpret that which is given to us from the spirit world. After all, the human intellect is a somewhat blinkered kind of tool, compared to the intuition. So far the spirit-power I met up with in that wood has served me well in the short time I have known it. I am now wondering how much of my needs can be satisfied by this spirit resource — and how far it can take me, and where. I am curious to find out.
Colophon
Written by Al D and posted to alt.religion.shamanism on 31 January 2006. The first essay in this series — "An Enchanted Wood in Dorset" — is also preserved in this archive. The band Al D refers to, Amon Duul II, was a Munich-based psychedelic/krautrock collective; their 1970 double album Yeti is widely regarded as a landmark of experimental rock. The track "Cerebus" (their spelling) and the follow-on "Return of the Ruebezahl" appear on Side C of the original vinyl release. Ruebezahl (Rübezahl) is a spirit of the Krkonoše/Giant Mountains, known from German, Czech, and Polish folklore; the goblin/caretaker duality Al D describes is attested in multiple sources. Original Message-ID: [email protected].
Preserved from the Usenet archive for the Good Works Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.
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