ALUNA TEMPLE MAGAZINE Edition No3 'INITIATIONS' | Page 18

INITIATION INTO AVALON PRIESSTESS
with KATIE PLAYER
(Glastonbury UK)
www.katieplayer.org

? Priestess of Avalon
? Ceremonial Priestess
? Sacred Dramatist and writer
? Creative workshop facilitator
This summer I initiated as a Priestess of Avalon, the culmination of three years of study and a
lifetime of wandering. My path has been held and guided by Kathy Jones and Erin MacAuliff
of the Glastonbury Goddess Temple trainings, and by the extraordinary circles of women, and
men, that I have travelled with.

There are Three Spirals on this Path of Initiation. For the first two Spirals, we meet in
circle for eight weekends through the year and with sharing, creativity, walking the Land and
ceremony explore Goddess and ourselves. The Third Spiral is four weekends and a commitment
to an intensifying daily practice of journeying through the Mists to meet the Lady of Avalon.

The Spirals end with a self-initiation or Self Dedication, as they all represent a
journey to empowerment – to stepping into our power as a woman and as a
Priestess. And that is something that needs to be claimed, not given.
What did it mean to me to Dedicate as a Priestess of Avalon? It is the act which weaves
so many of the key threads of my life into one strong web. Of dedicating my life to be all that I am,
of returning to myself, of re-rooting into this Land.
My connection to Avalon began in childhood with a love of Arthurian myths and legends. I became
intrigued with ancient British lore and the Matter of Britain, as well as in the portrayal of women in
myth globally.
Avalon to me was a place that existed in my imagination, a
place where the roles and the limitations of my life
dissolved. I devoured fairy tales and books of myths and
listened to stories from anyone who would tell them.
I grew up near the Thames, and the Land was full of the
fossilized bones of the ancestors, wave after wave of them
that settled and resettled Brigit’s Isles up the estuary of
Thamesis between the ages of ice.
Arthur’s Grave (Glastonbury Abbey) © Suzana Grau

That Land sang to me, the ancient oak woods that our housing estate was built on, the
remnant of it that still held deep magic. I was in the woods as much as I could be, and when I
couldn’t be I was in the apple tree in our back garden. Where, magically, no one could ever spot
me through the branches.

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