Drinking the milk of the Birch Mother
A Sussex birchwood utiseta (sitting out)
At 1:00 AM in the morning (06 July), deep in a West Sussex birchwood during my utiseta (a Norse wisdom overnight sit for insights), the Birch Mother appeared to me naked in all her awe-inspiring glory. She was tall, magnificent, with the nurturing fullness of the Great Mother, lactating abundant milk from her huge breasts. Her message was clear: "Drink my milk. It is sustenance, full of life." I had been sat by my chosen birch tree in ceremony since dusk, the one I sat with two weeks ago on the Solstice. The Birch Mother appeared as I was drumming with my buffalo drum “Wa Ti Ka Tla” - (Carrier of the Sacred Sound), that I had made in Colombia in February this year.
This powerful vision was just one element of the night’s teaching about love, connection, and the beautiful emergence of what is meant to be. This night in the sacred birch grove brought together threads that have been weaving through my spiritual practice for years—the ancestral work, the healing power of forgiveness, and the golden thread of shared human experience that spans cultures and continents.
The lady of the woods
The birch sap that flows in early spring was treasured as an "elixir of life," rich in nutrients and healing properties. In Scandinavian tradition, this practice continues today. Andreas Kornevall, our guide and facilitator, told me that traditional healers speak of birch water as "Märg i benen," meaning "giving power to the body in the spring to prepare for the summer." You can watch his video interview here with a Swedish healer. This annual ritual connects people directly to the seasonal rhythms, drawing strength from the tree's awakening life force as we emerge from winter's darkness—the sap truly being the "milk of the Goddess," a direct offering of divine sustenance and spiritual power from the Mother Tree herself.
What struck me most powerfully was understanding that every tree was an Yggdrasil—each tree serving as a microcosmic World Tree, connecting all realms and serving as a conduit to universal truths. Standing in that birchwood, under the dancing canopy at sunset as I began to enter the liminal space, I felt this connection viscerally. My vision wasn't just about the birch—it was through the birch, a direct communion with the living spirit of the sacred grove.
Bjarka’s message
The Bjarka rune (ᛒ) is named directly after the birch tree. This rune embodies new beginnings, growth, and divine feminine energy. Its very shape is said to resemble the full breasts and belly of pregnant Mother Nature—exactly what I witnessed in my vision.
The etymological root of Berkana means "to awaken," and this feels right. The Birch Mother's appearance was an awakening—a confirmation that the work I've been doing with ancestral healing, the threads I've been weaving between my land and the land of Colombia, the stories I've been gathering and sharing, all of this is part of a larger tapestry of connection and healing.
Stillness, space, and growing
In the dark, during my sit, I use a voice recorder to record the songs and insights that come through the night. One clear message, one that had already come up for me during a horse healing session that morning with Kim Bryant at Ellasfield in Billingshurst, said: "Stillness allows space, and in that space, things can grow." This teaching came through clearly before the Birch Mother appeared, setting the foundation for what was to come.
In that stillness of the quiet velvet night, surrounded by the silver-barked guardians of the grove, I felt the presence of all the ancestral work I've been doing. The genealogical research, the difficult stories uncovered and worked with for healing, the connections made with living cousins across continents—all of this felt witnessed and blessed by the trees.
The great spider that appeared in my vision in Ville de Leyva in Colombia had given me the red thread months ago in a ceremony, permission to weave connections between my land, my Norse rune practice and the traditions of the Colombian medicine wheel. Now, in the birchwood, as I watched a spider spin her web in the soft candlelight, I understood this wasn't just about cultural exchange, but about the fundamental human need to be loved, to connect, to heal the wounds that separate us from our pure hearts.
The healing power of forgiveness
One of the most powerful teachings of the night was about forgiveness and its role in ancestral healing. When we do the deep work of uncovering difficult family stories—the traumas, the betrayals, the wounds that pass through generations—we can't turn away from them. We must witness them, feel into them, and find it in our hearts to forgive.
This forgiveness isn't about excusing harmful actions, but about creating space in the energetic field. When we forgive, something shifts that makes room for future generations to breathe, to grow, to find their way back to love.
I'm blessed to have received so much love from my mother and grandmother, but there was also the male wound in my father's line that needed healing. Through conscious forgiveness work, we can heal not just ourselves, but our families and communities. The ancestors, when their stories are heard and honoured rather than hidden, have our backs in this work.
The golden thread of shared experience
The vision showed me that what we're really weaving—whether through a red thread between Britain and Colombia, or through the sharing of runes and roses across cultures—is the golden thread of shared human experience. When we nurture that pure heart we are all born with, but so often through life's trials and trauma, lose touch with, when we remember the beauty of our essential innocence, we can grow into our full power.
Stories can travel when we approach them with respect, with permission, with love. The runes that came from Scandinavia, the roses that are universal symbols of love—these carry wisdom that transcends all borders when we connect with the humanity that exists in all traditions.
Four birch words
As I emerged into the dawnlight from my sit that night, four words came to me, from the runes I was given by the tree I was sat with:
Beauty (Bjarka)
Trust (Tiwaz)
Agreement (Algiz)
Gratitude (Gifu)
These words felt like gifts from the Birch Mother herself—a teaching about how to move forward in relationship with the sacred, with each other, with the work of healing and connection.
Heart-to-heart healing
The heart meditation that flowed through me in a simple song chant or spell poem in the dark speaks to the essence of this work: "My beating heart feels your beating heart, for healing, for healing, My beating heart feels your beating heart—for healing."
This is the work we're all called to—feeling into the shared heartbeat of humanity, allowing our own healing to ripple out and touch others. The grandmothers and the Great Mother see all that goes on, the vision reminded me, and they hold us in this healing work.
The Birch Mother's final message was one of deep love and trust: "You are very loved, and you have a strong connection to the trees and to the lands on which you sit, and the lands that claim you—trust it. What is emerging is beautiful."
This feels like a message for all of us doing this work of reconnection—with our ancestors, with the land, with the sacred feminine wisdom that has been underground for too long in the patriarchal overculture. The birch trees are blooming every year with their sap, the old stories are being remembered, and new stories are being woven from the threads of the past.
As I continue this work with runes and roses, travelling between countries and continents, gathering stories and sharing wisdom, I both carry the Birch Mother's and the Great Spider’s blessing. In a world that often feels fractured and disconnected, we're being called to remember the golden thread that connects us all—the thread of love, of beauty, of shared humanity.
The moon rose bright in the night, and the golden birds sing out: all is well.
What visions have the trees shared with you? What ancestral wisdom is calling for your attention? I'd love to hear your own stories of connection with nature.
With love and birch blessings
Serena xxx
P.S. - If you're interested in learning more about working with runes, ancestral healing, or the sacred feminine in nature, I'll be sharing more practices and stories in upcoming letters. The work continues, and the web of connection grows stronger with each thread we weave together in community. I’m available for online or in-person (if local) for rune readings and help with ancestral and family tree research. Do get in touch.
Such a gift, this post is and you too my dear. I would like to share that a few years ago, we where looking into making our own maple syrup and as I look into how much sap it took to make the syrup from the maple, I felt it was not as sustainable as I had hoped. We instead went to Pine cone syrup, which we make now. In looking at the sap, I saw how healthy it was and then eventually found out that there we a few other trees in which you could drink the sap from and birch was one of them. I love this post and I really appreciate you sharing your wisdom dear one.