In the literal sense, Kinship is a simple thing - a blood relationship, though in this day and age all too often the symbolic kinship of ideas replaces the physical kinship of genealogy.

One might think of Kinship as a familial relationship, defined quite literally by birth, adoption or marriage.  Or, one might focus on the spiritual Kinship that unites those who share their understanding of life's patterns.

Without a doubt, Kinship can mean many things to many people - and that is a good thing, because the meanings we put behind the words we use are part and parcel of our individual paths and beliefs - and as such should not, and ultimately cannot, be defined for us by someone else. The infinite diversity of understanding enriches the tapestry of our life – indeed it is the very pattern of life itself, and, as Druids, we learn from this diversity as well as from the patterns inherent within it.

Consider, for example, the apparent difference between the kinship of blood, and the kinship of spirit. Taken literally, blood kinship implies physical similarity bestowed by birth. In modern times we can measure the extend of this similarity – by blood type analysis, and by genetic markers, for instance. We can also trace the family history of an individual to determine who is related to whom. Seems simple, doesn’t it?

Perhaps not. What of marriage and adoption, both of these traditional institutions where a family member is related to the rest of the family not by physical makeup, but by an agreement, often reinforced and even sacralized by a variety of ritual? And what of children whose parentage, and therefore literal kinship, is not known? And, for that matter, how similar does the similarity need to be to define it as a kinship relationship?

Nature does not define things with clear boundaries – it is only we that need such boundaries so that we can put things in neat little boxes, and label them, thus creating an illusion of clarity... The law might define the extend of physical similarity of blood type and genetic makeup – but here we are not concerned with the law, but with the underlying pattern which might seem clear at first glance, but is elusive on further thought. It is perhaps the nature of such patterns, that they are revealed not at once, but as layer upon layer of deeper insight...

Returning to the issue at hand: if we define kinship as a physical relationship, then beyond two individuals being identical, every other relationship can be described as "similar" to a varying degree – and it is the degree of similarity that ordinarily determines a relationship as kinship – or not. Yet any such boundary, no matter how we draw it, is a thing of our own creation. Consider what happens if we extend that boundary. After all, since the definition is of our creation and for our benefit, why not play with it? What if we define the boundary of similarity so that it includes the entire human race? After all – the genetic makeup of all humans that exist is far more similar to each other, then, say, to a tree. Yet what if we extend the definition even further?

The genetic makeup of higher primates is only about a percent different from ours – should we include them into our kinship group as well? Perhaps we should... Even if we consider birth-rights rather then genetic similarities, did not all Earth species spring from the same planetary womb? Are not, then, all Earthlings kin? Surely we are. Moreover, if one is to continue with this line of thought, if is easy to conclude that all things that exist are kin in one way or another.

Something of a similar analysis may be done for spiritual kinship as well. Usually what is meant by spiritual kinship is a close friendly relationship between individuals with similar spiritual views. Yet how similar do these views have to be for such a relationship to be formed? And which views may be considered determinative?

For instance, one may form ties of spiritual kinship to an individual with an entirely different, or perhaps even opposing, set of religious beliefs, - simply on the basis on enjoying a lively and candid debate. It’s been known to happen. In the realm of spiritual kinship, often the relationship is defined not so much by how much similarity we look for, but by how much difference we choose to tolerate. And, since it is a matter of choice, we may choose to change our tolerance level and thereby extend our definition of kinship. Moreover, if one believes that all things in the Universe are possessed of the Spirit – and that this Spirit is the presence of the Divine in each individual, be it an individual human being, or an individual pebble – then manifestly one may conclude that all things are related by spiritual kinship...

Furthermore, clearly there are cases where physical and spiritual kinship overlap. For instance, siblings may also be close friends and share a spiritual closeness. Adoption and marriage, while traditionally considered to be a literal familial kinship relationship are clearly not a blood kinship, and are more in the realm of the spiritual kinship.

Perhaps the most striking example of such overlap is in the realm of religion, however. In the mythos of pre-Christian Norse, for instance, the people were considered to be the direct descendents of the Gods, and therefore blood kin. Another example of this phenomenon is that in many genealogies of old English aristocracy one may find derivation of names such as Wodan, or Saxnot, or other Deities of the Anglo-Saxon pantheon. Whether such descent was ever taken literally, and if so, when, is a question that cannot be answered conclusively at this time, but neither is it necessary to answer it in this discussion. It is enough to note that in an arguably central part of a culture – religion – the concepts of kinship were not only important enough to be taken into account, but also existed in the realm of joining the physical with the spiritual. Nor is such a view all that different from one of the central messages of Christian faith – namely that God is not merely Lord and Master of humans, but, more importantly, a Father.

In the preceding discussion one thing at least should be rather clear: namely that one may define kinship as narrowly or as broadly as one’s imagination, tolerance and inclination dictates. Indeed, following the lines of reasoning above, it is fairly easy to conclude that all things in the Universe are related by the ties of kinship. Whether such a view is appropriate under all circumstances and to all individuals is another question altogether...

For there is such a thing as intimacy – and in common usage it is also a part of kinship.

Indeed, it is intimacy, or, rather, desire for some degree of intimacy, which effectively limits our circle of Kin, both human and otherwise. Human beings do not have limitless resources, and nurturing and deepening a personal kinship relationship can take a lot of time and energy. All too often, if a person tries to form intimate relationships with too many, she ends up with no intimate Kin at all.

As human beings, we seek intimacy in kinship, and we enjoy it –indeed it may be argued that our evolutionary development dictates that we need intimacy to thrive. Intimacy is an intensely personal concept and experience and therefore a difficult thing to generalize, yet on the average it may be said that one would be hard pressed to be intimate with all things in the Universe simultaneously. Which is not to say that it cannot be done – indeed, mystics thrive to achieve exactly that, and some of them may even succeed, though one would be rather hard pressed to prove it, since mysticism is the experience of an inner Self, and is notoriously difficult to share.

If we consider the continuum of belief relevant to this discussion, on one extreme of this continuum we have Mysticism, which assumes that all things are one and perceives similarities to the exclusion of all else, while on the other extreme we have Pragmatism, which sees all things as ontologically different. At first glance, then, a Mystic, by acknowledging only the similarities of all things includes an entire universe in his circle of kin, while a Pragmatist, by focusing exclusively on differences, makes his circle of kin vanishingly small. But all is not as it seems even here. Consider this: A Mystic, by denying all differences, also denies a boundary between Self and Other, thereby making any relationship at all logically impossible, since a relationship needs something to relate to, and if all is one, that something does not exist. On the other hand, a Pragmatist, by focusing on the differences, must also acknowledge her relationships with all the different things around her – but she may never classify these relationships as kinship, because just as each thing she relates to is different from each other thing, so each of her relationships is different from the others, and therefore may not be classified at all in any meaningful way. Thus, both extremes are not conducive to kinship: one by denying the need for any relationship at all, and the other by denying the similarity of association that makes kinship a special kind of relationship.

Fortunately or unfortunately, with some few notable exceptions, most people exist on the continuum between the two extremes – and it may even be argued in somewhat Aristotelian fashion that a Druid should seek the balance between them. What we gain in intimacy we give up in numbers – and for most the exchange is valid and good. If our nature is limited in this life and on this Earth, then it is right and proper to embrace this nature, and accept the limitations as the learning experience that they are. It is one of those quirky little ironies of the universe that often accepting the limitations of our nature allows us to ultimately transcend them, while denying these limitations all too often locks us in a trap made up of our own illusions. History is full of idealistic would-be altruists, who, in their striving for universal intimate kinship and love, destroy the very thing they seek so ardently.

Certainly, if one is to acknowledge the roots of historical Druidry and related religions, the concept and institution of kinship lies at the very heart of culture and therefore religion. Indeed, kinship is a pivotal institution of all traditional cultures, and it is hardly surprising that it should be so, since kinship, and groupings formed by kinship relationships serve as an excellent survival mechanism of our species, and as such is as natural to us, as solitary existance is for a tiger.

It is difficult, and probably even entirely undesirable to attempt to define Kinship conclusively...  It would be as futile as trying to describe a rose:  no words can possibly be sufficient to replace the experience of it.  Just as a rose is infinitely complex, with petals, and thorns, and smell, and even the difficulties in growing it, so is Kinship full of seeming contradictions of warmth and trust, loyalty and a sense of belonging, intertwined with obligations and expectations, and all the complexities of human nature.

And yet there are certain things - certain implications if you will - perhaps emotional rather then intellectual, that still make it possible to hold in common the form if not always the content, of the idea.

Kinship might often imply love. Most of us love our siblings, parents, spouses.   Yet that is not always the case - it does happen that we find it difficult to even like, let alone love, those who are related to us by blood.  Still, the lack of love does not necessarily eliminate the relationship.

Kinship might often imply duty.  It does not ultimately matter that a mother is tired, or upset - she must feed and care for the child, even if the child is cranky or ungrateful.  She may not like changing dirty diapers, or waking up every two hours for breast feedings - but she will do it because she must.  Conversely, when the same mother grows old and infirm, perhaps even senile – the now adult child will have the duty to provide care for the mother, even if it is a great burden - and it can be.  In such a way the exchange in kind provides for both the young and the old – at least in a functioning society.  The return and the giving are balanced.

Love may be pleasant or painful.  Duty might be light or onerous.  Both may be helpful or harmful from time to time.  But whichever it is – Kinship always implies mutual interdependence, mutual connection - a symbiosis of individualities genetically inherent in a communal species.

Mutuality incidentally denies any such thing as absolute individual perfection - because if any one thing was perfect in and of itself, there would be no need for any relationship at all.   Each one would be sufficient unto himself.

Kinship can sometimes be an intimate thing, extending only to family, one's Patron Deity, one's household Spirits - and when it is intimate, it is sharp, and intense, and pointedly personal. 

Sometimes, in the more mystical moments, it extends to the entirety of being, encompassing the deep truths of essential interconnection of all things.

It is a wondrous and awesome thing to look into the eyes of your Grandmother, and know, deeply, viscerally, that there before you is the root of your body, the soil from which you grew, a thread of continuity into the past ages.

And it is a wondrous and awesome thing to know that you stand as Kin to all the beauty and majesty of the Universe, to look up at the painful clarity of the sky from the top of a mountain, to feel it reflecting in your soul, and to know that you, as well, are reflected in the soul of a God...

What is curious about this is that mutuality of Kinship, while affirming interdependence, also affirms dignity and freedom of an individual - because it values each individual, and enforces the perception that each has a function and a purpose, from a pebble to a Giant, from a child to a God.

The essence of Kinship is, perhaps, to stand as part, not apart, of the world, it's folk, and it's Spirits.  To acknowledge both the joy and the responsibility of the Web of Life and Fate, and the dignity of each individual irreplaceable pattern.