Flidais with Me

I signed on to contribute to an anthology about Goddesses and I had wanted to write about Flidais - I had actually begun thinking about what I would say and how, and had decided to tell the personal details of my experience with Flidais earlier in the year - but someone else had already asked to write about her and I was assigned a different Goddess. After more thought though I have decided that my story of experiencing Flidais in a time of need is an important one to share, so I am going to blog about it here. Because the Gods really are with us still, if we let them be.

While I was pregnant with my son I had done some mediation work where the Goddess Flidais appeared to me. I saw a stately woman in a white dress emerge from the woods with a doe walking on one side and a heifer on the other. She didn't speak but held out her hands and I felt this overwhelming sense of comfort and reassurance. Somehow I just knew who she was. It lasted for what felt like several minutes, and then I snapped out of the meditation suddenly. But the feeling stayed with me.

Months later I had been discharged from the hospital three days after my son's birth and the first day home went well, except that I was very tired. Not that unusual, so not worth worrying about, but I was still struggling with severe edema in my legs. The doctors had told me that would slowly go away though, so I tried not to think too much about it. Then the night came. I could not sleep. I could not lie back, even a little, or I could not breath. As the night wore on I began to feel a growing sense of panic, as my breathing worsened, and I started having a hard time getting a breath even sitting up. By morning I faced the reality that I could barely get enough breath to speak and there was no choice but to go to urgent care. My mother in law, a former EMT, drove me, and the entire ride was an agony of sucking air in and pushing it out again. I focused on each inhalation and exhalation, each moment, and thought of nothing else.

When we arrived we were rushed back to a room and I was put on oxygen, which did not help very much. My blood pressure and pulse were very high. A CT scan was ordered and because I'm allergic to the contrast dye I was given Benedryl, so that now I was exhausted, couldn't breath, and was struggling to stay awake. I wondered, if I fell asleep, if I would ever wake up again and hated the Benedryl. I prayed desperately to Odin, God of breath, but felt no response, no presence. As I waited in the room for the CT scan results, gasping for breath, I wondered if I would die. I thought of my children. I thought of my husband. I looked at the hives on my hands from the contrast dye and thought that maybe the Benedryl was a good idea after all. And then the doctor came in and said my results looked exactly like someone in congestive heart failure; I had what he thought was a large amount of fluid in my lungs and around my heart. He wanted me transferred as soon as possible to the hospital I'd just been discharged from, he wanted me on a high dose of Lasix, to force the fluid out, and he wanted me on a mask that forces oxygen exchange because its been shown to push fluid out.

They brought in the oxygen mask and tried putting it on my face; it was like sticking my head out a car window going 60 miles an hour. I panicked, thrashing my head away. I wept and begged the nurses not to make me wear it. They talked about sedation and I cried harder, because nursing my son was very important to me. And then, in that moment of pure desperation a wave of calm washed over me and I heard  a female voice telling me "Be still. Be calm. Breathe." My whole body relaxed, and the mask was lowered on and fastened. Claustrophobia rose up again and I reached out to that ephemeral presence; it was like a gentle hand on my shoulder, reassuring, radiating calm. The voice said "Focus on each breath. In. Out. Nothing else." I did exactly what the voice said and somehow it was bearable.

As soon as an ambulance could be found I was transferred to the hospital. I did not know how long I would have to stay but I knew that I was desperately ill. Being as sick as I was didn't matter to me; all I cared about was being separated from my 4 day old baby. It was agony, and I found myself thinking over and over of the story of Rhiannon and how she lost her son. I could not even say the word "baby" without crying. Finally, late that night I decided to be as pro-active as I could, under the circumstances, and make an offering to Flidais who is, after all, associated with healing and nurturing. I had nothing to offer, but I had been pumping and saving breastmilk for my son. I took all that I had and hobbled into the bathroom. I poured my offering, more precious than any other I'd ever made, out into the bathroom sink, thinking of it eventually finding its way to the sea, and asked Her to help me regain my health and to reunite me with my child. I did not know how either would or could be accomplished, as things were looking rather grim at that point, but I needed the hope that prayer can give us when we have nothing left to look to.

The answer to my prayer came the next day, on Imbolc, and in a way that I had never anticipated. I was still too sick to leave the hospital but through a series of inexplicable misunderstandings and a minor miracle the hospital arraigned for me to be transferred to the labor and delivery floor so that my child could join me. This was the only way we could be together, and only if both my obstetrician and the L&D charge nurse agreed to the re-admission because the hospital was on a visitor lockdown due to a flu and norovirus outbreak. Yet somehow everything aligned so that it could happen. And I spent the next 3 days of my hospital stay with my child, and my husband who had to stay as well to help care for the baby.

When I was finally released I had lost almost 40 pounds of fluid in the course of 4 days. My lungs were clear. My heart was not permanently damaged. I had my little son with me, and I was still nursing him despite all the challenges. 


Beannachtai Flidais duit

How To Be Heathen

 In taking on a month of blogging about Heathen topics I asked my friends several times what they would like to see me write about and several mentions were made that boiled down to "how to be Heathen". This is one of those difficult subjects that can either end up as an overly specific guideline that will only apply to a small group of people or a broad overview that usually doesn't really help anyone. It was a daunting proposition to think about writing a blog about this topic so I've been putting it off. After much thought though I decided to offer my own attempt at an outline of how I think a person - any person - should go about getting started in Heathenry. So, here you go, my personal advice:
  Morgan's Guide On How To Be a Heathen

1. Read the mythology, folklore, and stories to become familiar with the Gods and Spirits (alfar/dawrves/assorted wights) of the Heathen culture you are drawn to. Use this to get to know these Powers and to start to understand the worldview and cosmology. You can't read too much of this stuff, ever, but always keep it in perspective for what it is and avoid the trap of fundamentalism. 
2. Learn about your own ancestors and connect to them, whoever they are. The dead never truly leave us unless we forget them. Tell their stories, honor their memories, ask them for guidance and help in your life. 
3. Respect the wights of the land and your home. Learn about how the wights were and are understood and honored by the Heathen culture you are drawn to - be it Norse, Germanic, or Anglo-Saxon - and find ways to do this in your own life. 
4. Be an honorable person. Live a life that reflects the values you want to embrace, including honesty, trustworthiness, loyalty, and courage. If you give your word, keep it. If you commit to something, see it through. Take responsibility for your own life, the good and the bad; be proud of your accomplishments and be willing to make amends for your errors. 
5. Embrace reciprocity. Give as much as you get and seek balance between what you take and what you give. 
6. Following along with part 5 - offer to the Gods, ancestors, and wights to create reciprocity with these Powers. Offer in thanks and celebration, for blessing and protection. Offerings create a relationship between us and the Powers we honor that is important in our spirituality.
7. Connect to your spirituality regularly by celebrating holidays, reading, and essentially living your faith. Heathenry isn't an occassional religion that you practice once in awhile or a hobby, its a way of life. 
8. Set aside some space, no matter how small, in your home to honor the Gods. Think about who the Gods are to you, and what part they play in your life. Which gods do you connect most strongly to and why? Who do you honor most often? While each Heathen culture has its own pantheon you will find that within that pantheon there will be a selection of deities - perhaps as few as three or four, perhaps as many as a half dozen or more - that you are particularly drawn to for a variety of reasons. Over time these Gods will be the ones who you form the strongest connections to, much as each historic community had specific Gods within the wider pantheon that they honored. 

And there you have it. You can add seeking community in real life or online as well, but I think that the heart of Heathenry starts with you and your own life. If you aren't a Heathen in your own life then all the community participation in the world won't make you one. That isn't to downplay the importance of community, which is a wonderful source of support, but if you can't be a Heathen without a community then you are missing the point altogether. 

CD Review: Kellianna Traditions

 I'm doing something a little bit different today and offering my first music review. Yesterday I bought a copy of Kellianna's new CD Traditions, and after listening to it I decided it would be the perfect CD to review here.
   This is Kellianna's 5th release and a departure from her previous albums in several ways. Firstly, half of the twelve songs were recorded as duets: 1 with Kenny Klein, 2 with Wendy Rule, and 3 with Jenna Greene. Secondly, and perhaps more significantly, every song on the album - as the CD title suggests - is a traditional song, including a range of Celtic and American folk songs and even a few Gospel songs. The tracks are: She Moved Through the Fair, Early One Morning, Scarborough Fair, Danny Boy, John Barleycorn, Oh Shanendoah, The Ash Grove, Amazing Grace, Greensleeves, Ave Maria, Oh Tannenbaum, The Parting Glass. 
    Fans of the previous albums who enjoy Kellianna's original pagan folk songs may be hesitant to try something so different from her but, believe me, its more than worth listening to. These folk songs are perfect choices and show off the beauty of her voice and range. The duets are well done and interesting; from the haunting rendition she and Jenna Greene sing of Scarborough Fair to the fun John Barleycorn she sings with Kenny Klein. My personal favorite is her acapella rendition of The Parting Glass, not only my favorite on the album but my favorite version of that song out of the dozens I've ever heard.
   I have enjoyed Kellianna's previous albums, but honestly I always preferred her chants to her songs; this album though is the perfect balance, showcasing her amazing voice with a range of songs that keep the listener engaged. Even the songs that I didn't expect to like, such as Greensleeves, were pleasant surprises. I believe that fans of Kellianna will enjoy this album just as much as fans of  folk music looking for something new, who are in for a delightful surprise when they give this album a try.

You can find the CD here: http://www.kellianna.com/buy.php
And the digital music here: http://kellianna.bandcamp.com/releases

Heathenry and the Afterlife

The afterlife is a very complicated thing in Heathenry, and it is something that is too often simplified in discussions and books to reflect a more classical or monotheistic model. People seem to have an endless desire to know where we go after we die and how we can get there that makes this a perennial question. The answer though is not at all simple because the Heathen understanding of the soul and of the afterlife was not simple.

     Many people focus on going to Valhalla, as if Odin's hall was the Heathen equivalent of the Greek Elysian Fields, the reward, the good place that everyone should seek to get to, but that is not so. First of all Odin's hall is described in the Prose Edda as a place of slain warriors, who, for fun, battle each other all day and drink and feast all night (Young, 1964). The mead, literally, flows freely there and the party - and fighting - never ends but its not a peacefully relaxing place. It is the gathering place of the Einherjar, the warriors who will fight for the Gods during Ragnarok. I tend to imagine it something along the lines of a really rowdy biker bar. It is also only one of many halls and, beyond that, the God's halls themselves are only one possible afterlife destination.
    Some people insist that the only way to get to Valhalla is to die in battle, and it is true that the Prose Edda says that the battle dead go there and that Odin sends the Valkyries out to choose those worthy of Valhalla (Young, 1964). However, Freya was said to have her choice of half the battle dead for her hall, Folkvangr as well, meaning that a battle death did not guarantee entrance to Valhalla. And you don't have to die in battle to go to Valhalla as in some cases those who died by other means went there. In Egil's Saga Egil says that both his sons have gone to Odin's hall, despite the fact that one drown and one died of a fever; Egil himself, although dedicated to Odin does not expect to go to Valhalla, but rather says he sees Hel waiting for him (Egil's Saga, 1997). Our Troth volume 1 also notes that Sigurdr and Baldr, both killed by weapons, go to Helheim, while Sinfjotli goes to Valhala after dying of poison (Our Troth, 2006).
     Besides the halls of Odin and Freya several other Gods are specifically mentioned in the lore. Unmarried maidens might go to Gefjon's hall, as it is said that she is attended by those "who die maidens" (Our Troth, 2006). In the Lay of Harbard Odin accuses Thor of taking the dead common men into his hall, in contrast to Odin's own preference for warriors, poets, and nobles (Bellows, 2007). Those who drown at sea are taken by Ran, caught up in her nets, and brought to her hall (Grimm, 1966). This gives us a wider picture of where a soul can go after death, but the Gods halls alone are only a small portion of the options available.
     The second most well known destination of the dead is Helheim. The Prose Edda tells us that those who die of age or illness generally go to Hel's hall, while liars, murderers, and oathbreakers go to Nastrond, both within Helheim (Young, 1964). Odin sent Hel to Niflheim to care for all the dead who came to her, and those who enter her realm belong to her. In the Edda Helheim is described as gloomy and terrible, yet elsewhere in other stories, such as Baldr's Dream, it is described as a rich feasting hall, with ale ready to welcome guests (Bellows, 2007; Young, 1964). I tend to believe the warm, welcoming version of Hel's hall is far more likely and I see Helheim as the realm of the ancestors.
     Some dead become mound dwellers; their souls going into the land. In Eyrbyggja Saga after Thorolfr's son drowns it is believed he goes into a hill on his father's land where he is welcomed with feasting (eyrbyggja Saga, 1972). In Gisli Saga a man who is called a friend of Freyr dies and is buried in a mound and it is said that no frost will form on the hill because Freyr does not want frost to come between them (Our Troth, 2006). In the Voluspa Odin goes to get the prophecy from an ancient seer in a mound and, indeed, the entire process of utisetta is based on the idea of contacting spirits within grave mounds. Additionally it has been suggested that some alfar are the male dead of a family as the disir are the female dead (Our Troth, 2006). Speaking of disir, it is entirely possible for a woman, after death, to become a disir, or idis, that is a specific type of spirit that watches over her family line (Our Troth, 2006).
    Reincarnation is also an old Heathen belief. Specifically it is believed that a soul might be reborn within a family line and that naming a child after a deceased ancestor can mean the rebirth of that ancestor in the child (Ellis Davidson, 1968). In some cases a child might be born with similar marks or the appearance of a deceased family member which could indicate a soul relationship (Our Troth, 2006). I have also heard it said, although I can't place the reference at the moment, that it was considered bad luck to name a child after a living relative for this reason.
     It is clear that there are a wide array of possible places for a soul to go after death. As individuals we do not seem to have much real control over where we might go when we die, so I honestly don't see the point in worrying much about it. Live a good honorable life while you are here and worry about the afterlife when you get there.

References:

Grimm, J., (1966) Teutonic Mythology, volume 2  http://www.northvegr.org/secondary%20sources/mythology/grimms%20teutonic%20mythology/02701.html

Egils Saga (1997) Penguin Classics
Young, J, (1964) Prose Edda
Bellows, H., (2007) Poetic Edda
Eyrbyggja Saga (1972). Penguin Classics
Our Troth, vol 1 (2006) Book Surge
Ellis Davidson, H., (1968) The Road to Hel

Racism and Cultural Appropriation

   American paganism in many ways reflects the contemporary trends of American culture: in the 60's and 70's it was feminism and women's empowerment, in the 80's and 90's it was individual empowerment. In the last ten years, and more so now, I've seen an increase in the focus on the ideas of ethnicity, race, and cultural appropriation within paganism.
   Issues of culture and race are complex and this is no less true in paganism than it is in the wider culture. On the one hand people often seek, through spirituality, to reconnect to their own history and roots, to gain a sense of belonging, and this can sometimes lead to a focus on culture. Certainly this is the case with most reconstructionist faiths which often emphasize both specific culture and ancestral connections and veneration. Feeling connected to ancestry through religion teaches us to be proud - proud of our ancestors' trials, struggles, and successes. Generally this is a good thing; we should be proud of our ancestry and our cultural history. This can become a problem though when that pride and the desire to feel that sense of belonging becomes a sense of possession, as if that religion belongs exclusively to any one group or people. In Celtic paganism I see this when people are dismissed as not really Celtic, as if their opinions have no or less value if they don't live in a Celtic country, speak a Celtic language, or have recent Celtic ancestry. In Heathenry it can be less subtly expressed in outright racism* and exclusion of non-Europeans from groups. I've heard of it in other faiths as well, from Wicca to Hellenismios, when one person tells another that they have no right to that religion because it belongs to another culture. It's all rooted in the idea that these beliefs are ours and we must protect them by keeping out the unworthy or those who might threaten the quality of what is ours. It's not always expressed that way, but that's the core idea behind it; we have something special that belongs to us and we must keep it safe from anyone who isn't us.
   The big, obvious problem with this is: who gets to decide who owns the culture? Who can say what amount of heritage is enough? Oh people try, certainly, but it all comes down to personal opinion and assumption, no matter how prettily they attempt to dress it up as the will of the Gods. How far back does someone's ancestry have to go for it to be enough? Can skin color really be a measure of heritage when it tells you nothing practical about that person's ethnicity? My heritage, like many Americans, is complex, including both European and Native American, so what cultures am I entitled to? What cultures am I excluded from? There are Heathens who would say that I cannot be Heathen because I am Cherokee on my father's side; there are tribal members who say I cannot follow tribal ways because I'm too fair skinned, despite the fact that historically none of that mattered in either culture. Belonging to a culture, sharing its beliefs, was based on far more than skin color and birth. History tells us that the Vikings intermarried with the Irish, that our ancestors, as they moved into new lands, intermarried with the people already there. The Gods were your Gods because they were the ones you honored, the ones you prayed to and offered to, not because you passed some litmus test of color or ancestry. The culture was your culture because it was what you lived, valued, and passed on. This was true in the past so in a modern multicultural, multi-ethnic society what place could racism possible have?
   Or, to summarize, racism is stupid and has no place any where in any thing.
   On the other hand we have cultural appropriation, a very popular term right now that is often horribly misunderstood and misused. Taken from sociology, cultural appropriation - also called cultural borrowing - is a natural and normal cultural process wherein one culture adopts beliefs, practices, or items from another culture usually with modifications. The western idea of karma is a cultural appropriation from the east, for example. Cultural appropriation, in and of itself, is not inherently a bad thing, however it can be so when the culture being taken from is a minority culture and the one doing the taking is a dominant one. In such a case appropriation can often lead to the loss of the original culture's belief or practice as it is subsumed and eventually discarded in favor of the dominant culture's version. The fear of that happening is often cited in cultural forms of paganism, including Irish and Norse, as grounds to speak out against or reject concepts taken from a specific culture and redefined by more popular modern pagan traditions. For example a reiki practitioner took the Irish Ogham and created what they call Celtic reiki, something that is seen as appropriation by some Irish pagans and some traditional reiki practitioners. The taking of the four Celtic fire festivals for use in the neopagan wheel of the year is often viewed as appropriation. James Arthur Ray's appropriation and misuse of sweat lodges is another, more tragic, example. Cultural appropriation is a very complex subject though because it is a natural cultural process and can occur organically - the incorporation of food, for example - so that not all appropriation is necessarily bad. In academia cultural appropriation may be divided into different categories which can include exchange, dominance, exploitation, and transculturation (Rogers, 2006). Exchange and transculturation are positive while dominance and exploitation are negative. Culture itself is built on a process of interaction with and reciprocal appropriation of other cultures which over times creates cultural exchange (Rogers, 2006). Generally when Cultural appropriation is discussed in paganism what is actually meant is cultural exploitation, the taking of aspects of a minority culture by a dominant one for the advantage of the dominant culture. This is a touchy issue for me as someone who regularly sees both my Native ancestral culture and Irish culture exploited. But as modern pagans we cannot simply say that we will not ever use or include anything that isn't originally from our culture or that no one else has a right to what we consider ours, particularly since, as I already discussed, it can be very difficult to decide who has a right to what; certainly the ancient pagans freely incorporated material from others in what would be seen as cultural exchange. On the other hand we should be respectful of other cultures and do everything we can to avoid what amounts to cultural plagiarism. My personal rule of thumb is to look at the context of the original and then how it is being applied outside that context; if it seems to be respectfully done then I am okay with it, if it seems to be done superficially, without respect, or understanding then I am not okay with it. We can use Samhain as an example: in modern paganism some people have begun to incorporate genuinely Irish pagan practices including a food offering to the fairies. I would not have an issue with this when the person researchers it and understands why it was done and historically how, even if their version is different from mine - candy instead of caudle, perhaps - but if the person simply hears that it was a practice to offer to the fairies, doesn't bother to learn anything about it, and offers something that would traditionally be offensive - spoiled food or leftovers, perhaps - then I would see that as inappropriate.  When you come across genuine appropriation the best way to fight it may be to educate people about the real beliefs and practices and the history, the roots, from which they have come.
   We are all, ultimately, seeking the same thing. As human beings we all want to be happy; as religious practitioners we all want to find spiritual fulfillment. The differences between us are, literally, only skin deep, and yet culture can shape us in profound ways that go far beyond outward differences and do deserve to be honored. Be proud of who you are and where you've come from and respect the journey that's brought you this far, but always respect those who are walking along with you as well by honoring the things we have in common as well as our differences.
   Ní neart go cur le chéile


* racism is the belief that different races have different abilities and characteristics and race can also be used to describe ethnic groups, including the Irish, English, etc., While we might most often think of racism as the division of people by skin color, it applies equally to the division of people by ethnicity. The infamous "No Irish Need Apply" signs of 19th century America are examples of that type of racism. 

Reference
Rogers, R., (2006) From Cultural Exchange to Transculturation: A Review and Reconceptualization of Cultural Appropriation. Communication Theory, vol 16, issue 4

Children's Prayers

Prayer During Storms

Thunder, thunder
In the sky
Thor's loud chariot
Pass us by

Meal Prayer

We give thanks
For this food
To the Gods
To the land spirits
And ancestors too

Sleep Prayers

A general version for all the pagan parents of little kids out there:
"Now I lay me down to rest
I pray that my home and kin be blessed;
ancestors guard me through the night
Gods watch over me by starlight
Guardian spirits are always near
and keep me safe, no need to fear
Loving spirits will dance and sing
Happy dreams they always bring
And when I wake to a new day
The shining sun will light my way"
  
An more Irish version:
"Now I lay me down to rest
I pray that my home and kin be blessed
ancestors guard me through the night
Gods watch over me by starlight
Guardian spirits are always near
and keep me safe, no need to fear
Goodly spirits will dance and sing
Happy dreams they always bring
And when I wake to a new day
Aine's bright sun will light my way"

And a more heathen one:
"Now I lay me down to rest
I pray that my home and kin be blessed
Disir guard me through the night
Aesir watch over me by starlight
Guardian spirits are always near
and keep me safe, no need to fear
Goodly wights will dance and sing
Happy dreams they always bring
And when I wake to a new day
 Sunna's bright sun will light my way"

Book Review: Thinking Wild

    I recently was offered the opportunity to review the book Thinking Wild, Its Gift of Insight: a way to make peace with my shadow for Red Wheel/Weiser.
   Thinking Wild is a fascinating look into the mind of the author as he explores the symbolism and metaphor of Nature as it relates to the human mind. Written in style reminiscent of the stream of consciousness writing of Sylvia Plath or Toni Morrison it tells the story of a man searching through his own life and experience to better understand the human heart and more, the human experience. In many places it reads more like poetry than prose, and like reading Dylan Thomas or James Joyce, the reader can't try to find meaning in each line, but rather has to step back and take each section as a whole and let it speak for itself.
   I found the book initially difficult to get into as the author packs a lot of deep introspection into each page and at times the sheer amount of it is overwhelming, so I finally broke it down and began reading a small section each day which worked better. The material really needs some time to be digested as it is read, rather than being rushed through. At times I found myself in full agreement with the author, at other points I could not have disagreed more, but I was always intrigued by what he was saying and how he was choosing to say it.
  The book has value, I think, in that it challenges us all to look at our own lives and values in a new context. We all live in poetry and in art, in savagery and in brutal truth, side by side and without contradiction, but rarely do we acknowledge it the way Thinking Wild does. It offers us all a chance to shift our viewpoint and open up to a new perspective.

Song Parody "24 Runes" ~ For Odin

  Inspiration is a funny thing, I can sit for hours trying to write and have nothing come to me, or I can be doing some mundane task and have a sudden burst of insight. This morning as I was putting my daughter on the bus for school a song parody went through my head as if it were writing itself. I decided to share it here. 
  
24 Runes - To the tune of Ernie Ford's "16 Tons"

 Some people say the world came from fire and ice
 and all the world's knowledge comes with a price
 Knowledge that costs and we all gotta pay
  some run towards it and some run away

Chorus:
You rist 24 runes and what do you get?
Another day wiser with every aett
Runatyr don't you call me cause I can't go
There's still too many things I don't know

Odin won the runes after nine long nights
  they rose up from the depths and into his sights
He snatched them all with a mighty yell
  for the Gods, elves, dwarves, and men as well

Chorus

Runes for healing and runes for harm
  runes for warding and runes for charm
There's runes for anything you might need
  but if you work with runes be ready to bleed

Chorus

You start learning runes and you'll be changed
   your whole world view gets rearranged
The more you learn the more you ask why
  and you keep on asking until the day that you die

Chorus

Matronae

  Many aspects of my own practices, Irish pagan and Heathen, are separate ones but there are points of cross-over. My honoring of the daoine sidhe/land vaettir is one, and my honoring of Artio is another. A third is my worship of the Matronae, a triad of Germano-Celtic goddesses.
   The Matronae, whose name simply means "Mothers" in Latin, are found in Celtic (specifically Gaulish), Roman, and Germanic sources (Lendering, 2013). These goddesses are known from over 80 inscriptions on images found from France to Germany and through northern Italy, and can be found on hundreds of votive altars (Evans, 2005). The Matronae are usually depicted as three seated women holding symbols of abundance, including fruit, animals, infants, and cornucopias, as well as items like small pieces of cloth, basins, and spindles; the women wear long skirts and have one breast bare, possibly symbolizing a nursing mother (Evans, 2005; Green, 1992). Often the figures on the sides are shown wearing wide hats and sitting next to trees while the central figure has loose hair; in one case the inscription  was accompanied by an image of a tree, a snake, and a goat (Lendering, 2013; Green, 1992). Images also depict the Matronae being worshiped by women and by soldiers and being offered fruit and bread (Green, 1992). Although its difficult to know with certainty what the Matronae were worshiped for, most scholars surmise that they were related to fertility, abundance, healing, and protection. Many Matronae had distinctive names relating to the area they were in or people who worshiped them so it is also possible that they represented communal maternal ancestors, an idea supported by inscriptions naming them "matres paternae" which may be translated as ancestral mothers (Lendering, 2013). It is also possible that the Matronae were examples of cults of genus locii expressed in a set form, although Ross suggests that they are reflexes of tribal mother goddesses (Green, 1992; Ross, 1998). In specific locations the Matronae also had specific associations: the Matres Comedovae and the Matres Griselicae were associated with healing and specific healing springs, for example (Green, 1992).

My personal shrine to the Mothers

   I tend to relate to the Matronae as the Great Mothers, the Deae Matres, the ultimate ancestral mothers of us all, the uber disir. To me they are both ancestors and deities; they are a force which ultimately connects all humanity together back at the beginnings and which connects us to the land as a source of basic life sustaining nourishment. I use three images of paleolithic female figures to represent them on my altar and pray to them for protection of my home and family as well as abundance. I also pray to them for peace within my home and for healing, particularly of my children. I offer them fruit, honey, and bread, and celebrate them especially on Mutternacht, the night before the Winter solstice.

References:
Lendering, J., (2013) Matres, Matronae, or Mothers. Retrieved from http://www.livius.org/man-md/matronae/matronae.html
Evans, D., (2005) Matronae. Retrieved from http://www.celtnet.org.uk/gods_m/matronae.html
Green, M., (1992) Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend
Ross, A., (1998) Pagan Celts

Prayer for the Year

This is one of the more interesting prayers in the Gadelica because it involves praying for calm seas at specific points throughout the year. In the original Gadelica version the dates listed are the old pagan fire festivals of Samhain, Imbolc, Beltane, and Lughnasadh as well as the feast days of saints, however each of these feast days is on or within days of a solstice or equinox, so I have shifted the references to these. Taken with a larger view this prayer can be seen as one for peace and safety throughout the year. I would recommend saying it at the turning of the year, but it could be said with equal effectiveness at any point.  

Ocean Blessing 118

O gracious gods whom we honor,
Give to us your gracious blessing,
Carry us over the surface of the sea,
Carry us safely to a haven of peace,
Bless our boatmen and our boat,
Bless our anchors and our oars,
Each stay and halyard and traveler,
Our mainsails to our tall masts
May land, sea, and sky remain in their places
That we may return home in peace;
I myself will sit down at the helm,
It is Manannan who will give me guidance,
As He travels far over the waters
On the fields of waves.

On the Autumn Equinox, day of balance,
On Samhain, when the old year ends,

On the day of the Winter Solstice,
Subdue to us the crest of the waves,
On Imbolc, day of my choice,
Cast the serpent into the ocean,
So that the sea may swallow her up;
On the Spring Equinox, day of power,
Reveal to us the storm from the north,
Quell its wrath and blunt its fury,
Lessen its fierceness, kill its cold.

On Beltane Day give us the dew,
On Midsummer’s Day the gentle wind,
On Lughnasadh, the great of fame,
Ward off us the storm from the west;
Each day and night, storm and calm,
Be with us, great Gods of Life,
Be our guide in right-living,
Your  hands on the helm of our rudder,
By land, sea, and sky

  - excerpted from By Land, Sea, and Sky

Spirit of place in the home

my monthly blog for Moon books is up http://moon-books.net/blogs/moonbooks/spirits-of-place-in-the-home/ looking at how we connect to spirits of place and why I think we should start at home

Where the Hawthorn Grows

  I'm excited to announce the official release of my new book, "Where the Hawthorn Grows". It is based on this blog and includes an array of essays on my views and experiences as an Irish reconstructionist Druid. Right now it is available in paperback and will soon be out as an ebook as well.

Baby's First Bealtaine

  Bealtaine this year has been a wild and hectic affair, mostly done with my 3 month old son in my arms. Some people find children and babies a distraction in ritual but I love the energy and unexpectedness they bring. Children bring an unbridled enthusiasm, openness, and joy to ritual, along with a certain inherant chaos. Certainly carrying my son made it harder to get the May Bush set up and decorated on May Eve, but the girls enjoyed doing more of it themselves and the result was just as beautiful and definitely more unique. After decorating the May Bush we made a caudle for the Fairies and brought it out to leave at the base of our Hawthorn tree. As I was getting ready to say a small prayer to the Good Neighbors before offering it the baby started fussing so I sat down a little way off and told the girls stories about the fairies while nursing him. That seemed a wiser choice than holding a screaming hungry infant and rushing through the offering* and indeed after that was done and the caudle was poured out and the words said, as we walked away, a Robin - omen of peace, hope, and a happy home - landed in the tree's branches and began singing.
  The family ritual on Beltane itself was a low-key affair, dedicated to Macha and Nuada. I told the children the story of the Tuatha de Danann coming to Ireland and ended up talking about each of the four treasures they brought with them. We burnt juniper, rosemary, and vervain for cleansing and made offerings of cheese biscuits that we had cooked together. The weather was sunny and fair, although the spring has been so cold and dry our little Hawthorn has barely begun to leaf never mind have flowers yet; still I took the weather as a good omen for the coming summer. After the ritual I gave each of the children a small gift as a token for the holiday: a t-shirt for my oldest, a tin whistle for my 5 year old, and a placard with my son's name and its history and meaning printed on it for the baby. Later last night I did my own solitary ritual which included meditation and reflection on the winter that has passed and the summer that we are welcoming in.
  This morning, the third and final day of our Bealtaine celebrations, we walked around the yard and house burning an incense blend I make myself to bless the property. We gathered flowers and brought them in to decorate the breakfast table and planted some herb and flower seeds in our small garden, after mixing the ash from the earlier rituals into the soil.
  This Bealtaine has been hectic and in many cases things have been less about planning and more about enjoying the moment. It was amazing and beautiful, something shared with my children and full of joy. I felt that all the offerings were well received and all the omens were positive - more so than they have been in a long time. I am ready for summer and am already starting to plan the next holy day with an infant in mind...

 *The older I've gotten the more I've come to believe that it is the intent behind the action that matters the most, rather than the action alone. Actions devoid of heart are hollow no matter how well executed; actions done with heart have value. A sincere heart and genuine devotion are more powerful, I think, than the smoothest rehearsed ritual. There are many people who approach modern pagan ritual as theater, something to be preformed in awe and reverence; for them the precision and perfection of it is part of their honoring of the Gods. My rituals, while done with reverence and often inspiring awe, could never be described as perfect or precise. No, my approach to ritual is better described with words like "organic", "fluid", and "engaged" - and I suppose some people would add "casual" and probably "relaxed". For those who prefer the highly structured style I'm sure less kind adjectives would be used as well. Such is life. Maybe it's because I don't feel the Gods, don't connect to them, in highly structured rituals; I never have. It's in the spontaneous moments and the daily devotions that I feel that connection is strengthened. Give me a wild wood and a moonlit sky, or the edge of flood-swollen waters; give me a tea-light or milk poured out in sincere prayer and I am open to the Gods and they are speaking to me. Of course what works for me is probably useless to some others just as I know some other approaches do nothing for me. The ultimate point of ritual I think, is to create connection and open lines of reciprocity between us and the Powers and so for it to be effective it must create engagement both ways; we must be full participants and the Gods or other spirits must be responsive and present. Creating this in ritual is so difficult in groups precisely because what creates engagement in one person may do nothing for another. I use what works for me and what has nurtured a relationship with the Powers over the years; to each their own.

Liminal Gods

  I read a blog the other day about primal Gods that grabbed my attention and has had me thinking ever since. I don't think I've ever read anything else that simultaneously made me feel so in agreement and also wanting to argue counterpoints. Maybe that's how it should be, as we each connect to these older natural forces in our own ways. It's uncomfortable for me to talk about them, especially here, because they are so personal, representing an intimate connection to the liminal place between the living green world and the timeless Otherworld.
  I have talked in my blog before about the Irish and Norse Gods I honor, but I haven't talked about the other Gods, the nameless ones who don't belong to any pantheon. Perhaps they are not Gods at all but rather are very powerful spirits of place, although they feel larger than that; often the line between deity and spirit or daoine sidhe can be a thin one after all. I relate to them as Gods and I suppose that is all that matters in the end.
     Most of what I do in my daily life and personal practice is centered on the daoine sidhe and land spirits, shaped by the Fairy Faith through a pagan lens, so maybe it was inevitable that I would eventually encounter these liminal Gods who straddle the gray area between Otherworldly spirit and divine being. I have never asked their names and they have never offered them, so I call them by titles: the Lady of the Greenwood, the Lord of the Wildwood, the Hunter, the Queen of the Wind. Not creative titles, but descriptive ones. There is something utterly foreign and achingly familiar about them that I cannot put into words. They are primal. They are wild.  They are experiential. I have no frame of reference for them outside my own experience, no myths, no folk lore, no ancient texts to rely upon to understand them or how to honor them. Worshiping them is, perforce, an exercise in intuition and awareness; I must trust my own intuition and I must let myself be aware - of their presence, of their preferences, of their patterns. I must let myself abide in that primal place within where these qualities, intuition and awareness, are a language of their own.
    These Gods are not tame or domesticated. They aren't Gods of computers, or the safety of the hearth fire. They live in the wild places of the world, in the heartbeat of animals that have never known a human hand, in the shadows of city buildings, in the endless mist and relentless tide. They dwell on the paths to Faery, in the music of the sidhe that haunts those who hear it, in bliss and in agony. They live in the perpetual twilight and the first rays of dawn, in the flood and the storm as well as the gentle rain. You can find them in the vast wilderness and in the twisting city streets. They are forces of change; they are unchanging. They are heartlessly brutal and unimaginably kind. They are grotesque; they are beautiful. They are all these things simultaneously and in harmony.
    These are my liminal Gods, my primal Gods. This is the heart of my worship, the bridge between my Fairy Faith practices and my pagan religion, the forces that are greater Powers than the daoine sidhe and more immediate than the Gods from known pantheons. I do not have to seek them out; they are here. I speak to them beneath the moon and in the wind, amid the forest's song and the music of the rushing stream. I offer to them, pray to them, and hear their voices in synchronicity and dream.
   Theirs is not an easy path to follow because it means letting go of the civilized expectations we hold with other Gods. It is a path through the trackless forests and the untouched wilds both within and without. It puts aside logic and rational thought and embraces instinct and emotion. And once you are on their path you cannot help but be changed by it. And once you are on their path there is no turning back.

Why I am a Syncretic Gaelic-Heathen Pagan

Patheos has been doing a blog challenge, asking people to answer the question of why they follow the path they follow in 200 words. This is my answer:
   I am a syncretic Gaelic-Heathen pagan because I have seen the Irish and Norse Gods calling to me in my dreams. I have heard the music of the Otherworld dancing on the wind. I have felt the pulse of my ancestors beating underneath my skin. And these things speak to my soul with poetry and mystery in ways that nothing else ever has and that I cannot live without. They are part of who I am.
 The mythology and folk beliefs of those two cultures resonate with me on an instinctive level. They form a holistic whole for my spiritual beliefs which is both comforting and challenging. The Gods, The rituals, the cosmology, the prayers, the magic, all of these are necessary and I cannot choose one culture over the other without losing part of myself in the choosing. In my heart, the two together make sense in ways nothing else does
   That is the core of my religion; reconstructionism shapes it, mysticism and magic create connection with it. It is experiential. It is immanent. It is fluid. Call me a witch, Druid, or seidhrkona - I am all these things - but underneath it all the core remains the same.

Book Review - Druidry and the Ancestors

  I recently read Nimue Brown's book Druidry and the Ancestors: finding our place in our own history. I was intrigued by the book's title but approached reading it with some trepidation as I have felt ambivalent about the work of other OBOD authors in the past. Generally my approach to Druidism is very different from OBODs and while I have great respect for the wisdom and vision of their organization the result is that books by their authors often leave me with strongly mixed feelings. I must admit I was quite pleasantly surprised by this book and found it thought provoking and more than worth reading.
  The author breaks the book down into a look at how we perceive history, the way that viewpoint shapes our ideas about ancestors, and a discussion of the ancestors themselves. She is refreshingly open about her own biases and viewpoints and uses anecdotes to illustrate her points to good effect creating a personal touch to the text. The author is also not afraid to tackle the more difficult or emotional issues of ancestry - including adoption, abuse, and invention - in a direct manner.
   After an initial chapter which defines who the ancestors were and are the second chapter delves into "history as story". I found this section to be profoundly thought provoking as it challenges the reader to look at what we know about history, how we know it, and how our view of it shapes our understanding at the most basic level. The book raises several points that I had never before considered but which will require some profound reflection long after I've put this book behind me.
  Next is a chapter on 'spotting the melons" which encourages critical thinking in reading and offers a list of basic guidelines to sort bad sources from good. The author feels, as do I, that paganism is plagued by bad source material and faulty or outdated facts and tries to educate readers about the pitfalls to be found. Although I felt that some of the examples used were a bit vague, overall the chapter was a great edition to the book. Particularly in Druidism sorting fact from fiction from fantasy is an endless process and discernment is essential.
  Moving on there is a chapter on the importance of ancestors and then several on individual types of ancestors, including ancestors of place and of tradition. I enjoyed the way that a variety of non-blood ancestors were included and that the author continues to challenge readers with new perspectives and ideas. The reality of ancestors whose stories we know well stand side by side with those who we have invented as part of our own narrative, and we are encouraged to value fact as well as myth in building practice. In this book knowing our ancestors is about knowing ourselves, and indeed one of the final chapters, "ancestors of the future", encourages us to look at ourselves as tomorrow's ancestors.
   This book is not a workbook or how-to of ancestor work; in its pages you won't find how to set up ancestor altars or what offerings to make to who. What you will find is an invaluable guide to connecting to your own past, healing broken connections, and how today's Druids are and will be the ancestors of tomorrows spiritual seekers. More than worth reading, more than once.

How We See the Gods

   One of the most basic aspects of paganism may be how we see the Gods. Our Gods, after all, have a concreteness to them that lends itself to imagery. We have myth, folklore, and ancient pagan artwork to pull from as we seek to imagine what our gods look like. We also have modern popular views, such as the many modern Heathens who describe Thor as red-haired. As a Reconstructionist these sources are invaluable, yet they can also be a double edged sword. For myself at least, when I envision my Gods I inevitably think of all these sources in an effort to come up with a correct image. It may produce an accurate result, but it also complicates inspiration and emotion.
   I am trying to take a lesson from my children now. There is a purity to the way that children approach the Gods that adults lose somewhere along the way. My oldest daughter, very unapologetically, has favorite Gods and they show up in her artwork from time to time. I have a drawing that she did when she was 7 of Freya; it shows the Goddess as my daughter imagines her. This is Freya from the heart, without any worry of accuracy or careful details from the lore. Its Freya as my daughter sees her without the filter we adults use for everything. There is a beautiful purity to that, even if most other people wouldn't recognize the Goddess.

Amara's drawing, circa 2011

  Its important to look to the body of myth and belief when we relate to deity, but it is just as important to listen to our hearts. I know that I tend to let my head complicate everything which is why I am trying to find a more balanced approach. Instead of rejecting the little things that pop up in my head - Odin with a hip flask, Freya with a butterfly tattoo - I'm going to try embracing them. I'm going to let my inner voice have its say and see what it comes up with. I may even grab some crayons and have a bit of fun with this. Even if the results are images that have no meaning to anyone but me, I am going to let my inner child have its say. It is so easy to ignore our inner voice when we feel like there is a right and wrong to what we are doing, but that inner voice can add a richness that is lacking in cold hard facts.  

  When you picture your Gods, how do you see them?

A Prayer for the Dying

Death is always difficult for the living to come to terms with, although it is said that to die to this world is to be born into the Otherworld. One thing we, as modern pagans, need more of are prayers for the dying, to help the soul move on and to comfort the living left behind. This is a blessing from the Carmina Gadelica to be said at death. I have modernized it and made it more pagan.  This could work equally well as something said to a dying person as they pass or as something said to those who are grieving during a funeral or memorial service.

Soul Peace 53

Since we know the soul is immortal -
At the time of yielding the life,
At the time of pouring the sweat,
At the time of offering the life,
At the time of shedding the blood,
At the time of balancing the beam,
At the time of severing the breath,
At the time of loosing the soul,
Peace upon the soul’s journey;
As it returns to the land from whence it came,
Peace upon the soul’s journey,
     As it returns from whence it came.

And may Manannan, gentle and kindly,
Lord of the waves and guide across worlds,
Take possession of the beloved soul,
And shield it home,
     Oh! Where it may rest and be reborn again