Bearing in mind that each person is an individual and no two oak trees ever grow exactly alike, I’d say that my most spiritual moments and deepest “insights” are when I’m by the sea or in a forest by a river. As a youngster, my parents left me to my own devices a lot (in a nice way) and I used to disappear for hours wandering around the moors, woods or by the coast – a little bit, perhaps, to the annoyance of my grandparents at times! 😀
On the one hand, I’d say that anyone who’s following a druidic path should do his or her utmost to get information, study, fact check and question; unfortunately, there’s a lot of fakery, charlatanry, bad information and spurious nonsense out there and it’s very easy to fall into a trap. I know, as I said before, I’ve gone on many a wild goose chase thanks to stuff I’ve read or been told that later turned out to be wrong or just plain false. I’m not saying it’s necessarily deliberate or malicious, but very often it’s misguided. Without doubt, the Internet does not always help because just about any self-appointed authority can set up a page and start churning out stuff. On a more serious note, I do also think it’s our duty, sort of like a service we should do to our community, to be guardians or servants of the truth – especially since we’re dealing with spiritual paths that are very important in people’s lives, and people can be very fragile too.
At the end of the day, the study and the knowledge and the constant revising and updating of facts give me the tools to better appreciate the significance of many things from a Celtic and druidic perspective, but if I want to commune with something higher, then that is not something I can get from a book, for that I have to be out there staring at the vast and boundless ocean or feeling the misty rain of the moors soaking into my very being. Sometimes a simple glance and a smile from a stranger you pass in a crowded street, the smell of home baked bread, a friendly dog or a drop of dew on a leaf can speak to you in a way that would make a thousand poems pale into insignificance.