Sulum Factum Magus

One of the perennial disagreements that comes up from time to time in the Neopagan world is the question of what exactly is to be understood by the Deities. The Wiccan view that all Goddesses are One Goddess, and all Gods are One God, can be traced back through Dion Fortune. This view has lead many Wiccans to feel comfortable working with many different faces of the Goddess. More traditional pagans, on the other hand, sometimes see their Deities as individuals, and distinct from other Deities, having their own individual agendas and personalities. Indeed, sometimes such people get upset by the cavalier ‘use’ made of their Deities by others – without bothering to understand them in their own right, or without having any traditional cultural connection to the Deity.

My own view is that both viewpoints are correct. Just like humans, the Gods have both an individual nature, and a collective nature, a connection to the all. Emphasis on the one, does not mean the other does not exist. Both aspects should be taken into account by the magical practitioner, in my view, who wishes to work with a Deity form. However, when one calls upon a particular face of the Goddess or God to mediate the primordial feminine or masculine powers of creation, one must deal with the individuality associated with that Deity, as well as its ability to mediate the primordial powers. While some Deities are traditionally worked with in this way, others are not – and it is up to the practitioner to make sure that they appreciate and understand how to work with any Deity they decide to call into their orbit.

Part of this “due dilligence” before working with any Deity is to explore why you wish to call upon them, and whether you have what it takes to work with them safely. To many people, there is a question of ancestral connection that must be satisfied. Others go even further, and insist that the right to work with a Deity must be passed on from someone else, in a family or teaching lineage. Others refuse such restrictiveness, and insist upon their right to work with any Deity they feel drawn to.

Whatever you believe about the right to work with a Deity, it should always be well considered and well prepared, to avoid unplanned and possibly unpleasant consequences. Misunderstanding between a Deity and a practitioner can arise just as easily as misunderstandings between two people, and may have unfortunate consequences. So research well a Deity that seems to be calling to you, and consider well whether you want their energy in your life. To work with a Deity is not something that ought to be taken up and dropped on a casual basis, but something that should be approached with clarity and commitment. To become a priest or priestess working with a particular Deity is to bring the archetypal forces and energies of that Deity into one’s life. Do they suit your energy, personality and approach to life? If not, life could become very difficult and challenging.

One method that you may care to try is the following. If a particular Deity catches your attention, and you feel drawn to working with them, first do some extensive research into the Deity. Obtain traditional imagery, traditional icons, and traditional symbolism. Study any mythology associated with the Deity. Examine your connection to the Deity. Is it a traditional connection, are you re-establishing an ancestral connection, or is there some other connection? Many people, for example, consider themselves to have past lives in other cultures, and feel that this justifies them working with non-ancestral Deities. If so, you will know it. If you feel still that the Deity is for you, then, using the appropriate symbols or images, tune into the Deity, and discuss with them the possibility of working together. Find out if it is permitted, and/or advisable. One way to proceed is to make a limited commitment to the Deity, for a year and a day, say, after which one can consider whether one wants to make a deeper commitment. Others seem to know straight away that they are priests or priestesses of a particular Deity, and dedicate themselves on the basis of this. Whatever way you do things, be sure that you know your heart, and stand by the commitment you make.

Working with a Deity is a sacred trust. This is partly because it is through the inner work of the priest or priestess that the form of the Deity is enlivened and energised. A priest or priestess who is out of tune with the tradition and history of the Deity may well create inharmonious forms and energy currents within the body of the Deity, though the soul of the Deity is unaffected. This, I believe, is one reason why traditional pagans resent the indiscriminate use of their Deities.

So while all Goddesses may well manifest the universal feminine creative principle to some degree, there are many that represent quite different energies, whose shape and form harmonises with quite different belief systems, some of which place little or no emphasis on the union of Male and Female primordial essences to create all phenomena of existence. The same goes for Gods. To try and work with such Deities as mediators of the primordial male and female principles is, in my opinion, misguided.

People these days often have multiple lines of ancestry to many different cultures, and hence pantheons. For example, my ancestry is English and Irish. As well as connections to the Gaelic of Ireland and the Isle of Man, I have a Norman French line that is known to me. But like most people of English stock, there will likely be connections to British celtic and pre-celtic people; Vikings, Danes and Teutonic people; and possibly Roman colonists, or Romano-Brits who had taken up the Roman lifestyle, complete with Roman Gods. They may possibly also be connections via France to cults of Isis. Traditionally, the British are said to be descendants of Brutus, descended from the royal family of Troy, and hence descended from the Greek Gods. So that presents another possibility, even though that genealogy is generally regarded as mythical rather than factual. Now, I haven’t chosen to activate Deities from all, or even the majority, of these ancestral possibilities – but it serves to illustrate that most people have a wide choice of ancestral Deities that they can choose to activate if they wish. However it is considered by some that working within a single pantheon, or at least mostly within a single pantheon, is the best approach, and certainly not mixing pantheons within any particular working. So my point above is not that one could or should take Deities from a wide range of Pantheons, but that one has considerable choice, usually, in which pantheon one can choose from.

These thoughts are nothing more than guidelines which may help to keep you out of trouble of various sorts, not the least of which might be upsetting someone by “appropriating” Gods you have no legitimate right to, in their opinion. However, ultimately, it is something one has to decide in one’s own heart, between oneself and a Deity. And sometimes it turns out that a Deity picks you out to work with, not vice a versa. What should you do in such a cease? In the cases I have heard people talk about, it has always been a positive experience, which was instantly taken up, with a deep knowing of the rightness of it. But, if you’re not 100% sure, then follow the procedure above. Do your research, and make a commitment for a period of time, after which you can decide whether to pull back, or go deeper into commitment and service.

A final remark. I believe that the mark of a priest or priestess is a commitment to service, to and through one’s Deities, and hence to all of life. It is a commitment to be changed, to become greater, and to share in the life and consciousness of one’s Deities. It is a commitment to release oneself from the tyranny of small mindedness, and the challenge of giving expression to the greater mind. The ethic of Service helps to keep one’s feet on the ground, and one’s life in perspective.

Blessed Be,

Robyn :)

I work with the Lady Epona as part of my personal pantheon. When I first came into the pagan path, I made my dedication vows to the Lady Epona. The first time I recall specific mention of her in my life, was upon reading the book “Celtic Gods, Celtic Goddesses”, by R.J. Stewart, where there is a beautiful painting of the Goddess, riding, of course, a pony, accompanied by sheaves of wheat, dogs and birds. She has long straight black hair, and dark eyes, and of course rides a white horse. As soon as I saw the picture, I knew that she was my Goddess.

Once in my circle work, which I do as part of my regular practice most mornings, and which usually involves some  inner work with a particular deity or two, it came to me that the Lady Epona has been with me since childhood, and was responsible for the lady’s voice I would hear as a child, calling my name. So I have a strong feeling for the Lady.

The Wikipedia article on the Goddess Epona is well worth reading. From it I summarize some of the following facts. Evidence of the Lady Epona has been found throughout the Roman empire, where it appears she was adopted by horsemen in the Roman legions. From apparent origins in France (then Gaul) she was carried west to Britain and east towards the Balkans, and northwards towards Germany. Shrines were common in stables, and her feast, at least in one location in Italy was celebrated on the 18th of December, around the time of the Winter Solstice. She is often  depicted with a basket of fruit, or a cornucopia bursting with the abundant produce of the fields.

When I first started working with Lady Epona, I felt that nothing really very much was known about her. However the small amount of specific information can be considerably rounded out if we begin to explore the significance of the Horse and Horse Goddesses in Celtic culture. Jannet and Stuart Farrer have written a very good essay on the Goddess Epona in their book “The Witches Goddess”, exploring the themes arising from the spiritual significance of the Horse and related Goddess figures. In Irish mythology, for example, the Goddess of the Land is portrayed as a mare, and Kingship was conveyed by ritualised mating with a sacred mare representing the Land and its Goddess. This theme is also echoed in the story of Epona being the beautiful offspring of such a union, which is told in Plutarch’s Life of Solon. (See the Wikipedia entry for Epona!)

There are a number of Goddesses in Irish and Welsh stories associated with Horses – including Rhiannon, who is depicted in the Mabinogion as riding a milk white mare, and who is forced to carry visitors into the city on her back (like a horse) as punishment for supposedly killing and devouring her baby. Of course, she was being wrongly punished, but that is another story! Also the Irish Goddess Macha was made to race the King of Ulster’s horses, although heavily pregnant. She beat them, and gave birth to twin sons on the finish line. To these we may add other mythological currents that have become entwined with the Lady Epona, such as the stories of Lady Godiva, who rode a white mare naked through the streets  of coventry, in order to redeem the people from onerous taxes. Interestingly, the name Godiva means “Gift of God”. The nursery rhyme 

“Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes”

Although ostensibly referring to Queen Elizabeth the First of England riding a white cock horse to Banbury Cross, one can’t help noticing that the cock horse which the implied subject of the imperative rides, and the white horse that the lady rides are different horses. The Queen of Fairy traditionally rides a white mare, and is accompanied by the sound of bells – so to me the nursery rhyme is also an expression of the mythic complex associated with Epona and the Horse Goddess. The White Horse of Uffington is a testament to the importance of horses in pre-Roman Britain. Though not specifically linked directly with the Goddess Epona, the figure is similar to horses appearing on pre-Roman coinage, and is perhaps evidence of a widespread Horse Goddess archetype which later emerged as Epona.

Across these stories, some interconnected themes emerge – the connection with the personification of the land; the sacred marriage with a king figure; a resonance with lunar symbolism; the battle between the bright and dark lords (the divine twins) for the Lady’s hand; and the wrong done to the Lady through the patriarchal institutions of kingship and law.

In my own work with the Lady Epona, she is the principle Goddess that I work with for magical workings, particularly those involving the sacred marriage. In my personal Pantheon, she holds sway with Lord Cernunnos as her consort, over the workings of magic, and particularly of magic concerned with the realisation of the true gifts, the abundance of nature, and the abundance and prosperity that follows from the giving of the true gifts to life. 

The Empress card in the Tarot is in many ways a harmonious energy and resonance with the way that I work with the Lady Epona – involving a Venusian aspect that honours and encourages the positive expression of sexual love, as well as independance from any form of subdserviance to the male or patriarchal institutions, and presiding over the bounty of nature. For of course it is from the Womb of the Goddess that all bounty and abundance flows, and in order for that bounty to grow and manifest, the seed of the God is required, for which in my work the Lord Cernunnos happily obliges.

One way that  I work with my Deities is by projection and invocation. In the context of concescrated space, with elemental portals opened and guarded, I invoke the Lord into myself, through concentrated visualisation associated with a regular form of words that over times becomes imbued with evocative power. I then evoke the Lady into the space – through visualisation and her own regular form of words. As the God, and with the Lady, the sacred marriage is then performed. For a male, this may be acoomplished by visualising your hands (the hands of the God) holding the hands of the Goddess, followed by a gentle merging and interpenetration of the two energy fields. For a woman invoke the Goddess, and allow your hands as her hands to hold the hands of the evoked God. Invite and allow the sacred union, but do not impose or force it, or the form it should take. Leave this up to the Gods, and I am sure that you will be, as I have been, surprised, delighted, and humbled by the result.

Although sexual energy is a part of this magical work, it is not in itself a physically sexual practice. The union is energetic and etheric, and while physical arousal may develop, physical stimulation is neither required nor helpful, as it represents a distraction from the point and culmination of the practice. Likewise, the mind should be purified of lascivous or lusty thoughts or immaginings, which are a distraction, and an unwelcome imposition upon the Goddess. She must be given the space to touch you as she will, without the mind trying to impress its desires and fantasies upon the situation.

Often times, if the above guidelines are respected, I find that this practice leads to rapid eye movements, associated with physical arrousal, deep trance states, and the opening of the inner window. This transformation can be assisted by gentle attention on the third eye energy centre, just between and above the eyebrows. In this kind of state, the physical arrousal is akin to the erection that men have while dreaming, in so called REM sleep, and the similar arousal that women experience whilst dreaming. In spite of the physical arousal, it is not inherently a sexual state, but a visionary state. In the olden days, I fancy it was referred to as “riding the broom stick”.

To my way of thinking, this is just the portal of the mysteries presided over by the Lady Epona. Across that threshold, lies a vast territory that though once well known, has been much forgotten by our modern age. It is our birthright to re-explore, and renew our association with these regions. For as the ancients knew, the world arround us is a reflection of the worlds within us. And as the world arround us is, these days, full of hardship, suffering, conflict and exploitation, both of nature and others, so must the inner worlds be filled with conflict and disharmony. Thus the healing of our age must start with the inner journey, and the resolution of the conflict within. Let those who are ready and able take up the task.

Blessed Be,

Rob

Sometimes life throws up some difficult choices, and it’s hard to know which way to go. There may be the voice of reason saying one thing, the heart calling in a different direction, a variety of talents and possibilities demanding to be given time and attention, various people in your life ready with advice, some good, some bad, and somewhere lost in the clamour, the calling of the soul.

Sometimes the biggest problem is being immobilised by the need to choose, and not knowing which direction to take. So we do nothing, and allow the status quo to carry on. However this is rarely in our best interest.

One of the sayings I am fond of is that often, it’s not so much about making the right decision, but making the decision right. Some people become immobilised, because they can’t figure out the right decision. Maybe they can’t figure it out because there is no alternative that is right, with all the others wrong. Any alternative would do, if only one would make a decision and stick to it. Making the decision right, means to commit to a course of action, and put your best foot forward, whatever you have chosen. This commitment will in turn bring with it energy and enthusiasm, and this will act in the situation to give the best chance of a positive outcome.

Another aspect of ‘making the decision right’ is the process of coming to a decision. My philosophy is to work with a balance of all the human faculties. I try to think things through from a practical perspective (engage the mind). I try to come to an awareness of my feelings about each alternative, and the source of these feelings, whether they be from fears, or past experiences positive or negative, or indications of a soul calling. I also engage my intuition about the various alternatives, perhaps through tools such as a tarot spread, which incorporate also the willingness to take guidance from guides and inner world contacts, and my own higher self. I may also engage my imagination in trying to picture to myself how life will turn out under the different decisions, what I will be doing each day, where I will be living, my state of mind, the happiness of my self and my family, whether I am in tune with my soul calling and so on. After such a process, the decision is often much easier. You’ve made the decision right, so you can make the decision right!

There are a number of tarot cards that are tied up with decisions and choices. The three that come to my mind are the seven of cups, the lovers, and the hanged man. The seven of cups is seen in many decks as the need to make a choice, or being unable to decide on a direction, because there are many possibilities before one. Often this is seen as a positive sign, indicating choices and options, but when reversed, may mean stagnation or immobilisation through inability to make a necessary choice. The lovers is said to indicate a time of choice in the process of individuation. The young man pictured in the card must choose between loyalty to his mother, and the desire and love for a young woman. It marks the process of growth and becoming one’s own person, separating from the parental influence and guidance, and making one’s own way in life. On a deeper level, the mother represents to me the internalised bonds, the apron strings, that often tie a young man to his mother. These are bonds of strong emotion which also circumvent one’s life experience. There comes a time when the safety of home must be left behind in order to experience the full richness of life. The young women represents on a deeper level, the calling of soul, which ever beckons one to follow, and to leave behind one’s comfort zone. The symbolism on this level applies as well to either sex.

To me this card then represents the fundamental choice which must be faced time and time again by the person who wishes to grow into their spiritual maturity – the choice to follow the calling of soul, and leave behind the familiar. It is all the more poignant for the love and comfort that surrounds one in the familiar. It would be easy enough if one’s present was full of conflict and misery when soul called you to something different. However when one’s life is full of love, comfort, and the many satisfactions of a happy home or work environment, it is a much more painful choice when soul comes calling you to something different. But the call must be answered, for to refuse it, leaves one strangely hollow, and a little disappointed. Domestic comfort and the loves of home begin to lose their shine, for the soul begins to pine. Yet it is still a choice, as one cannot be forced to follow the call of soul.

Another card that talks about choice is, to me, the hanged man. The card is often interpreted to mean sacrifice. However I see it as sacrifice in the sense that something must be cut away from one’s life in order to make space for something new. Otherwise the new has no room to grow and develop. However it is not easy to cut away parts of one’s life – there is always a cost attached. It may be a monetary cost, for example, forgone income when one chooses to work part time in order to give oneself time for study or a project of personal importance. It may be the cost of foregone dreams or goals, as in for example giving up practising the violin, and the dream of performing, in order to spend time writing a novel. To me, the card represents the hoary old truth that only by painful sacrifice can worthwhile things come about. Considering the sacrifice involved in almost any undertaking, is it worth it? My view is that only the call of the soul is capable of justifying the sacrifice required.

The hanged man also resonates, for me, with a story told about Merlin, when he had returned to court after spending time alone in the wilds as a madman. A boy was brought before him, and he was asked to prophesy how the boy would die. “By falling from a high place”, said Merlin. Then in order to trick the sage, the boy was dressed in different clothes, and brought back. Merlin was asked again to prophesy the way this apparently different boy would meet his death. “By hanging from a tree”, said Merlin. Again the boy was taken away, and this time dressed up as a girl, and brought back. Merlin was asked to prophesy how the ‘girl’ was to die, and he replied, “Women or no, by drowning”.

On becoming a young man, the boy was hunting a stag, if I remember correctly, and died by falling from a rock, upon which his foot got stuck in the cleft of a tree, and he ended up hanging upside down with his head in a stream flowing under the tree, and so drowning. So as it turned out, all three prophesies were fulfilled.

Curiously, considering what I posted recently about him, the Norse God Odin is also associated with hanging from a tree (in this case Yggdrasil, the world tree), and the threefold death, and thus also is associated with the Hanged Man of the Tarot. It is also curious that in the last year, I have taken to sleeping with one leg cocked foot to knee, for no particular conscious reason, just as depicted in the tarot card. Hmmmm.

Blessings

Robyn :)

There is a difference between who we really are and who we think we are. It’s something I have written about in my book “The Great Work”, where I talk about the difference between the rationo-centric self, and the true self. Basically the story is that our locus of self identity becomes fixated in the rationo-centric mind. I use this term because it is a little more than the rational mind, which most people understand as the ability to reason and approach life logically by thinking things through. However the rationo-centric mind describes something a bit further than this. It describes how our self concept develops through discriminating between self and other, and adopting various rules and concepts about our self as though true. It is the part of you that says “I am this” and “I am that” and “I Like this” and “I don’t like that”. Now these sorts of statements often start as an understanding of ourselves, in response to a particular situation. But the trouble is, we change, and the situation changes, but these self concepts become part of our identity, and we hold on to them as if they were our most prized possession, long after they have passed their use-by date.

It is an example of the way we build up a mental construct of who we are, and then allow it to imprison us, by cutting us off from new experience. The relevant Tarot trump is the Tower – showing how when this happens, the divine thunderbolt arrives to knock down the tower of mental constructions, giving us the gift of a fresh start to rebuild something more suitable for our stage of life and the times we face.

An example of this process occurred to me just the other day. When I first became interested in the pagan pathway, I was very drawn to my Celtic ancestry. I identified strongly with the Deities, traditions, mythology and legends from the Celtic current. I cultivated Celtic Deities, and worked within that current quite happily. In fact, it became part of my sense of self. I was a “Celtic Wiccan”, or a “Celtic Pagan”. However what we think we are, is not ever who we really are, and in spite of our mental constructions to the contrary, our true self and true identity will manage to insert themselves into our lives, sometimes in spite of our best efforts to keep them at bay.

Often it becomes clear only on looking back, how the unseen hand has been at work, in spite of our efforts to limit our experience to a particular realm due to a mental construction of “I am this” and “I am not that”. For example, readers of these pages will have heard about my trip to Denmark, in which I visited the Troll Church, and had an experience of the Dragon Power, and my subsequent explorations and experiences with this energy through Dragon Walking. In one such experience, I encountered the astral form of a fellow wearing a brown hooded robe. At the time it came to me that he was one of the hooded ones, which I assumed to be an order of initiates working with the Dragon energy. Since then, I have had an inclination to do a little exploration with the Runes, something that I had previously avoided, being outside the “Celtic Universe”. And of course, my chosen name, Robyn Wood, resonates with the mythical figure Robin Hood, who Steve Wilson informs me is none other than the figure of Odin, transported to English shores and merged with Celtic mythic motifs. It appears that he often appears wearing a hood. Hmmmmm.

So the picture is starting to become a little clearer…and the lesson is that we are more than our self concept at any particular time. When the gifts arrive from the Gods, be ready for them, however they come. They may well come in an unfamiliar disguise! After all, most of us these days have many lines of ancestry – and perhaps it is time for me to explore some other lines, as well as the Celtic.

Blessed Be,

Robyn

As the name Robyn Wood may indicate, I derive a deal of inspiration from the figure of Robin Hood, who has, in my mind at least, always been associated with the pagan mysteries. Thus it was with great delight that I recently came across the volume “Robin Hood. The Spirit of the Forest” by Steve Wilson. Steve Wilson is no stranger to the esoteric side of things, being associated with the Fellowship of Isis and the Druid Clan of Dana, and known for his work as a Chaos magician. Steve surmises that the stories of Robin Hood have a common source with the Hindu Ramayana, which source also led to the Arthurian Legends and the stories of Finn McCumhail from Irish legend. However this stream was married to the lore of the people of the forest, the fairy archers, whom he contends may have been the remnants of forest dwelling neolithic people. Such forest dwellers, often of small stature, are found today still in the forests of Africa, Indonesia, and South America, often making use of arrows and darts.

With the advent of agriculture, and forest clearing, accelerated by the need for large amounts of wood to fuel the blast furnaces of the iron age, the forest dwellers were brought into conflict with the forest clearers. Through out Brittain, flint arrow heads are still often found, called by the common people fairy darts. While academia assumes these to date from the late stone age, Mr Wilson points out that this is just an assumption, and that there is every chance that forest dwelling people could have survived into historical times, before being wiped out or integrated into the wider population. Such flint arrow heads could therefore be much more recent than supposed.

Mr Wilson then traces the development of the Robin Hood mythology through historical times, looking at historical records of May Day celebrations and the Morris Dance, whose characters were often Robin and his associates. Throughout, there is the theme of the good king pitted against the bad king, in common with Egyptian mythology (Osiris and Set), the Arthurian legends (Arthur and Mordred) and a prevalent theme through much of European paganism and modern neo-paganism and Wicca.

In particular, Mr Wilson finds a resonance with the Welsh stories in which Gwynn Ap Nudd, the lord of the underworld, fights with Gwyrthur Ap Greidayl, a solar hero, for the love of Creurilad, the flower maiden of spring. He contends that this mythic sequence attached itself to the figure of Odin, imported with the Saxons, himself associated with wood and trees, and whom Mr Wilson finds etymologically to be the source of both “Robin” and “Hood”.

Thus in the figure of Robin Hood we have a composite of Saxon deities and Celtic mythological motifs – themselves not so unrelated as commonly supposed, as both have a common Indo-European origin. Rather than the common picture of Celts and Saxons at war, Mr Wilson paints a picture of integration and cross fertilization, as exemplified in the English language itself, where we find a predominance of Celtic words and Germanic grammatical structures.

The book carries on to consider the development of the Robin Hood myth in the current age, considering TV and movie renditions, and the part it has played in the neo-pagan revival, especially Gardnerian Wicca. It concludes with recognition that the spirit of Robin Hood is today more in need than ever, with the way that forest clearing is proceeding relentlessly throughout the world, threatening not only the lives and livelihoods of forest dwellers, but the very existence of humanity. For the great forests are the lungs of the world. These sentiments I heartily endorse.

It is fascinating reading for anyone interested in the esoteric significance of the Robin Hood mythology. The Book is published by Neptune Press, 49a Museum Street, London, WC1A 1LY.

Blessed Be,

Robyn :)

One of the Deities that I have worked with ever since I became a pagan, is the Lady Epona. I remember the time well when she first spoke to me. It was when I was browsing through the book “Celtic Gods, Celtic Goddesses”, by R.J. Stewart. There is a beautiful painting of the Goddess Epona, with straight black hair, and carrying a sheave of wheat, surrounded by birds. As soon as I saw that picture, it touched me straight away, and I knew that I would dedicate myself to her service. And so I did. This is how I invoke the Lady Epona in my circle:

“Dear Lady, who rides the white mare,
Who rides in ebullience, joy and focussed abandon,
Dear Lady who brings forth all plenty and abundance,
Dear Lady from whose womb comes all life,
In whom We are brother and sister to all that live”

I make a special point of working with Lady Epona between Beltaine and Midsummer. She is wont to appear in my circle riding her white horse, festooned with jingling bells, as in the old nursery rhyme:

“Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes”

Beltaine is the time of the sacred marriage between the young solar king and the spirit of the Land, which is Celtic legend is often personified by a Lady who takes the shape of a horse. I like to ride behind her, on her white horse, listening to the jingling bells, and feeling the animal strength beneath me.

In other legends, the queen of Fairy is said to ride a white horse. When I was growing up, a game we used to play driving along was that we had to cross our fingers whenever we saw a white horse. We couldn’t uncross them until we saw a dog. Could it have been the vestiges of an old Irish custom – crossing the fingers to avoid the bad luck of being swept off to Fairy Land on the back of the fairy queen’s white horse?

In the ballad of Thomas the Rhymer, The Queen of Elfland appears on a milk white stead with “fifty silver bells and nine”. Thomas kisses the queen on her rosy lips, and then must go with her to Fairyland and serve her for seven years, after which she grants him the gift of prophecy. There is much behind this legend, in my view, which serves as a guide to the significance of the sacred marriage and initiation. I am sure that those who wish to work with it in depth will find it very rewarding.

For a version of the ballad of Thomas The Rhymer, see here.

Blessed Be

Robyn

In a time of trouble or sorrow, to invoke the healing and/or protection of the Lady Brighid try the following:

Light a candle (Beeswax best), and place it on your altar (in the
east is best), along with image or icon (if available).

Prepare yourself and create space as you normally would, then say the
following with appropriate visualisation:

“Lady Brighid, thy healing flame in my belly, thy transforming flame
in my heart, thy inspiring flame at my brow.”

“Lady Brighid, thy mantle arround me, thy strength within me, thy
blessing upon me”

“Moon crowned Brighid of the undying flame, as spring follows winter,
so in me”

Visualize whatever you wish to be done with being placed into the
Lady’s flame to be transformed positively. These can be either
external circumstances or your own negative qualities.

This should be done every morning (dawn is best!) until the situation
is resolved, at which time give an offering of thanks to the Lady.

The candle should never be blown out, always extinguished with
moistened thumb and finger, or with candle snuffer. The candle should
be new at the beginning, and not used for any other purpose except
for lighting when invoking the protection and blessing of the Lady
Brighid.

If circumstances do not permit you to light a candle, then visualise
the entire sequence!

In Her service,

Robyn

Another of the Deities that I work with is Lady Brighid, a Celtic Goddess of great antiquity, whose practices and lore passed into Irish Catholicism, and who is a much loved Goddess of many modern pagans, epecially those with connections to things Celtic. She is of course the Lady of the blessed flame, and the holy well. The flame is regarded in the system of magic which I follow to be expressed in triple form, as the flame in the belly, the flame in the heart, and the flame in the brow.

The flame in the belly is the flame of health and vitality. A strong flame in the belly gives one the power to digest food and absorb nutrients. In the olden days, the process of digestion was seen by some as “cooking” the food by the stomach. Today, in Chinese medicine and naturopathy, cooked food is regarded as easier to assimilate than raw food. You may have noticed when laughing a jolly belly laugh, that heat is generated in the lower abdomen around the naval area. This is also the flame in the belly, the energy of mirth and merriment, which is healing and restorative in so many ways. In Shiatsu, Japanes finger pressure massage, the hara, the region around the naval, is considered to be the key to healing transformation, and the energy is felt as heat moving in this region. In Tai Chi, and Chi Gung, the life energy is cultivated in the lower abdomen, at a point just below the naval, called the tien ten. In our own Australian English vernacular, people speak of the fire-in-the-belly possessed by certain go-getters who live with energy and passion, and who won’t countenance defeat or set-back. Behind these different expressions is an energetic secret of health and longevity, which I regard as the cultivation of the first of the three flames of Brighid.

This is the place to begin with cultivating the flame, as health and humour are the foundations upon which all else must build.

The flame in the heart is a symbol of western mysticism that goes back many years, perhaps most conspicuous as the symbol of the sacred heart of Jesus in the Catholic religion, which is depicted as a heart merged with a candle flame. While I don’t myself work specifically with the sacred heart of Jesus, as a pagan, the symbol is not out of place as Brighid is regarded in Ireland as the foster mother of Jesus. However the symbol of the flame in the heart transcends the Christian religion. In the system which I follow, it represents the flame of alchemical transformation. Just as the flame applied to the alchemical vessel results in transformation and change, hopefully in a positive direction towards the philosopher’s stone, so does the application of love to any situation result in positive transformation and change towards enlightenment.

But the flame in the heart is more than just a metaphor. It is an effective transformative symbol, a switch, which can be applied through visualisation, in order to bring love into a situation. The visualisation is the flame burning in the heart. The feeling is the opening of the heart chakra. The effect is the creation of loving energy which emerges into the energy field of the interaction, and which transforms negative energy in that same energy field. The effect is subtle, but powerful. It should be noted that the potential exists to misuse such loving energy in order to manipulate people. Needless to say, operating in this way is unethical, and will sooner or later re-bound upon the practitioner.

The fire in the brow represents the energy of creativity, and direct connection with divine creative energy. It is expressed through extemporisation in music and poetry, in which the greater consciousness has its opportunity to manifest its expression through the poet or musician, artist or writer. It is also associated with seeing through the inner window, or opening of the third eye. A basic technique in Yoga is to visualize a candle flame, while holding the attention lightly on the brow chakra. In druidic lore, the Awen is the stream of divine inspiration which moves the poet.

The three flames of Brighid are both a symbol of the threefold way of wisdom – a healthy body, a healthy heart, and a healthy mind, and an energetic presence that one can work with esoterically. In these days, in which individualism is taken as a matter of course, it is easy to forget that we are part of something greater than ourselves. The flame of Brighid is both a symbolic reminder and an esoteric technique for linking with and experiencing ourselves as part of a greater existence.

All who work with the healing energy of Brighid are linked by the matrix of the Goddess as she transmits and transmutes the healing energy. To meditate upon the flame of the heart is to invite an opening into the oneness of love. To work with the fire of the brow, the flow of the Divine inspiration, is to transmit and mediate the creative conscious expression of the spirit realms. In each case, these practices and experiences transcend the everyday conscious mind, and one becomes a part of something greater and all-embracing.

The up-side of such experiences is plain. These transcendental experiences are generally a peak experience for people, in which feelings of happiness and upliftment replace the habitual modes of being, and in which the usual mind chatter focussed on the efforts of the rational conscious identity to confirm its own existence, is swept aside by an experience of being that is deeper, wider, and more mysterious.

The down-side of these experiences is often over-looked. To taste the nectar of the Gods makes other food taste like cardboard. Things that ordinarily one would enjoy and find satisfying may pale by comparison into empty and hollow experiences. Activities where the individual rational consciousness is running the show seem to be devoid of the luminous depth and intensity of transcendental contact. One pines for these experiences once one has had the taste of them, yet mysteriously, or frustratingly, life seems to require one to put them aside – in order to carry out one’s mundane duties.

Thus commences the dark night of the soul. The knowledge of the darkness of one’s life is manifest, where perhaps it wasn’t before. With an experience of light, comes a knowledge of darkness. Living in this darkness is almost unbearable, when one has yet to find a way to structure one’s life around regular transcendental experience. The problem with our current society, is that there are so few ways in which transcendental experience can be expressed or encouraged on a regular daily basis. When people are working 50 and 60 hours a week, commuting a couple of hours a day, and doing their best to raise a family in the time that’s left, there is precious little time available for the cultivation of the transcendental connection. Yet once tasted, this transcendental contact is a necessity of life.

Perhaps one answer is to find a way to have that transcendental connection within one’s normal activities. This is not easy, but is the way of Zen – chopping wood, carrying water, with mindfulness. The problem for many people is that many of us are having to spend our day concentrating, focussing, thinking, planning, decision-making, and other forms of intellectual and rational activity – activities that require us to be in the seat of rational self-identity. With this necessity, the transcendental experience recedes. But perhaps there is a way to incorporate the transcendental awareness into these kinds of activities. The flame of Brighid need not be extinguished, but may burn steadily throughout each day – it is just a matter of holding an awareness of the flame, lightly in the background. In this way an element of numinous awareness may be present in the most mundane of activities.

For more information on the Lady Brighid, see the Ord Brighideach website.

Blessed Be

Rob

One of the deities that I work with is the Lady Arianerhod. She appears in the Welsh tales of the Mabinogion, where she plays the part of an independent noble woman, who lays a Geas on her son, that he won’t have a name until she herself gives it to him, nor will he have arms till she herself gives them to him, nor will he have a mortal wife. A geas is a bit like a curse, but is not necessarily a bad thing. More like a fateful obligation or necessary observance to keep the favour of the Gods. In some ways, a geas is also like a prophecy, as the geas usually indicates that some disaster will befall when the geas is broken. A Geas is typically pronounced at birth, or some other important occasion by a druid or sorceress.

Arianerhod’s son is being brought up by his uncle. In my reading of the story it represents at one level the historical struggle between the patriarchal new order and the matriarchal old order, with the crafty Gwydion, the main character in the story, outwitting his Sister Arianerhod, representing the old matriarchal order. In this reading, Arianerhod appears (from Gwydion’s point of view) as ungracious and ill-wishing, thinking first and foremost of her own social standing in stead of the child’s welfare. However digging a little deeper, we may see on a personal level that Gwydion wants to hurry the natural order and processes of growth, and in his haste and pride deprives the Goddess of her rightful influence in the development of the child, and later young man. The consequence is tragic. Thus the story may be read as a warning against human pride and hubris that seeks to outwit fate, or the Gods.

In any case, we can use this story as a signpost to the qualities and attributes of the Goddess, even though in the story, those attributes are given a negative expression by Gwydion. For example, when first Gwydion and the boy encounter the Lady Arianerhod, she doesn’t recognise the boy as her own. When Gwydion insists that she is his mother, she declares that he will never get a name until she herself gives it to him.

While Gwydion interprets this as a denial, it is no more than Arianerhod’s insistence on her right to name the boy – in her own time, a right that both Gwydion and Arianerhod accept without question. So rather than naming the boy himself, Gwydion asserts his power and independence by resorting to trickery to extract a name out of the Goddess. He and the boy visit her keep in the guise of shoe makers. By a series of ruses, Gwydion causes Arianerhod to board their boat. There she sees the boy shoot a wren, so that the arrow pierces between the sinew and the bone of the leg. The shooting of the wren is a symbol of divine kingship, associated with yearly battle between the dark and bright lords, an association further underlined by the wound being to the leg, a symbol also associated with Kingship. Indeed, the resonance here is with the wounded king, and this is a clue that the boy is destined to become the wounded king, around which develops the wasteland. Arianerhod remarks that the boy is possessed of a skilful hand, and this becomes his name, Llew Law Gyffes. Arianerhod is annoyed by the deception, and angrily pronounces a Geas that he shall have no arms, until she herself grants them to him.

The story, as recorded from Gwydion’s point of view, appears to be the story of a proud and curmudgeonly women who refuses to acknowledge her offspring, and Gwydion’s attempts to outwit her. However we may equally read it as the story of a proud and treacherous man who refuses to acknowledge the prerogative of the Goddess, and tries to rush the natural order of things through his trickery and devices, thinking he knows better than the Goddess. The angry Goddess, on a superficial reading appears to curse the newly named boy, however, on a deeper reading she is but asserting her prerogative once again. In spite of having been tricked out of her rightful name-giving, she now asserts her right of arms-giving, or presiding over the boys coming of age.

Once again, we are invited to interpret this, with Gwydion, as a curse by the Lady, with the expected outcome that no arms will be granted. But if this was the intended effect, why not deliver the curse directly? A similar episode follows, where Gwydion and Llew Law Gyffes go disguised to Arianerhod’s castle, and Gwydion conjures a fleet of invaders to appear in the harbour. Gwydion and Llew Law Gyffes promise to help defend the castle, and to do so, Arianerhod provides them both with arms. At this point the enchantment is lifted, and Gwydion declares that the boy has been armed, in spite of Arianerhod’s ill disposition towards him.

Arianerhod is furious. In the story, we are invited to suppose it is because she wished the boy to remain un-armed. However another possible reading is that she is furious because the arms were given inappropriately, without due ceremony, and therefore the occasion has been robbed of its numinous potential for conferring both power and wisdom, and deepening the connection with the spiritual source. The power of wielding arms, the personal power associated with personal combat, was once, at least in the old tales, taught by sorceress/priestesses, and the arms giving was an initiation into personal power. By tricking Arianerhod into giving arms, Gwydion actually robbed Llew Law Gyffes of this experience, which is not valued by the emerging patriarchal order. The story is one in which the role of the numinous, and the Goddess, is devalued, and replaced by man’s hubris, pride, and confidence in his own power and abilities.

In her anger, Arianerhod, pronounces that the boy shall now never have a women from the races who now inhabit the world, for a wife. In the story, we are invited to read this as an angry curse by a vindictive women. However a deeper reading is possible. Rather than a curse, it is a lament. It acknowledges that in bypassing his initiation at the hands of the matriarchy, hence foregoing his connection with the numinous, but claiming his adult role regardless, he is not a fit husband for any women. Women will see and know his shallowness, his hollowness, and turn him down. He is a man of violence and force, untamed and un-mastered by feminine guidance, and so can’t be trusted.

In spite of this final Geas, Gwydion and his Uncle contrive to create a wife, Bloduwedd, for Llew Law Gyffes by the enchantment of spring flowers – oak blossoms, broom, and meadowsweet. This however turns to tragedy, as we will see. Reading more deeply, we see a symmetry in this part of the story. As Bloduwedd is a contrived women, so also is Llew Law Gyffes a contrived man – both taking their form, in different ways, from the contrivances of Gwydion. Just as the wren was a mirror showing Llew Law Gyffe’s destiny, Bloduwedd is also a mirror for Llew Law Gyffes. As both are contrived, the match between these two beings is doomed to failure. Neither has the skill or maturity to allow love to flower. While Llew Law is away at the masculine court, occupying his mind with manly affairs unbalanced by the numinous, his beautiful wife is left at home, untended, and uncared for. She has an affair with a noble who ventures passed on a stag hunt. Once again, we have a resonance with Llew Law Gyffes, as the Stag represents the sacred King, and to kill him is to take his place. Thus the killing of the stag resonates with the illicit love that follows, and the plot to kill Llew Law Gyffes himself. Through trickery, Bloduwedd discovers how Llew may be killed, and passes the information on to her lover, who carries it out. Llew, grievously wounded, flies off as an eagle, and is discovered by Gwydion, roosting in a tree, where rotting flesh drops away from him, and is being eaten by a sow.

The sow is symbolic of the Goddess, and we may read this as the initiation of the Goddess – the dead flesh dripping away being the pride, arrogance and hubris which is devoured by the Sow, the Goddess, in this devouring form. Thus the initiation into the numinous that was ignored in Llew’s boy hood and youth, cannot be over-looked forever. It is a necessary transformation. In the end, the bitter circumstances of life will contrive to bring him to a numinous understanding of himself, or he will find death and/or despair.

Bloduwedd is banished to become an owl, a creature of the night, to be picked upon by the other birds.

So we can read this story in the Mabinogion as a tale that warns against the pride and hubris that causes men to usurp the rights and perogatives of the Goddess, and the old ways. It shows the consequence of such hubris – failed relationships, war, and bloodshed. And it is a pointer to the role of the Lady Arianerhod – as name giver, arms giver, and initiator. Three initiations are mentioned specifically – the giving of a name, the giving of arms, and the taking of a wife. A fourth initiation, that of bitter circumstances is a result of arrogantly refusing the first three. The Goddess cannot be refused. She is the mentor, the judge, she who bears the gift of contact with the numinous feminine. These pointers show how we may work with the Lady Arianerhod today. She may help with the seeking of the true name. She will mentor someone in the bearing of arms for a just cause. She will provide guidance in the conduct of love relationships, which respect the individuality and personal integrity of each party. She is concerned with coming of age ceremonies and life transitions, and may be invoked for her help in these matters. She may preside over such ceremonies, and provide the means for numinous contact with the true self.

While the story in the Mabinogion revolves the central character of Llew Law Gyffes, it provides a skeleton for contemplating on the spiritual journey, and the ever present danger of thinking that we know better than the Goddess. To put it in more psycho-spriritual terms, The rationo-centric sense of self, believing itself superior to the numinous collective consciousness, repudiates the role of the greater organism in the nurturing of the child of promise. Instead, it seeks to assert its own cleverness, its own agenda, forgetting that it is a servant of the whole. However this results in a person who is cut off from the numinous, the greater organism, and the best part of themselves. Their relationships and whatever they manifest must suffer. The wasteland grows around them. They trust the wrong people. They may suffer and be betrayed, or betray others. If they are to rise to their destiny, then life must intervene to bring them back in touch with the numinous – often this is through bitter circumstances which may as likely bring someone to personal and psychological ruin.

In the end, the rationcentric and the greater sense of the numinous must work together in a balance and harmony. Just as reason alone is barren, intuition can’t work in a vacuum. Both are needed in order to be whole. The balance of the individual and the greater consciousness. This is my reading of the tale, and I trust that it will make your reading deeper and more reqarding – though I don’t expect that all will agree with me! Whether it’s the intention of the original authors, I cannot say – however what we make of the story today is as important for us as what was originally meant. In the end, there is a sacred marriage here as well. The authors of antiquity have created a matrix, into which we project our our meaning, guided, however, by the symbols and narrative that have come down to us, and our own touch of the numinous.

The story of Math, son of Mathonwy, which contains the tale of Gwdion, Arianerhod, and Llew Law Gyffes, is one of the four branches of the Mabinogi. Links to online texts are available from the wikipedia entry.