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Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Dangerous Fairies and Knowing Your Limits

When I was at Pantheacon this year I taught a class about the Unseelie Court. It was a fun class to teach, late at night and with a good crowd. I may have been slightly delirious from jet lag and sleep deprivation. I may also at one point have uttered the now somewhat infamous line in response to what to offer them 'I wouldn't offer meat because then you're going to attract the sorts of things that eat meat. And you know, we're made of meat.' So it was that sort of class, which is really the best sort of class in my opinion.

My purpose in teaching it was to address some of the misinformation that goes around about the Dark Court, painting them as more sympathetic and more kind than they generally are, but also to discuss ways that we can work with the more dangerous members of the Othercrowd safely. That may sound like a contradiction, but it isn't - like most things in life it isn't that all of the dangerous beings should be avoided completely but that they should be understood for what they are and respected. Part of dealing with dangerous Otherworldly beings safely, probably the most essential part, is knowing your own limits, because we have to know where and what our boundaries are in order to know how we can safely push those limits.

In the course of the class I mentioned that in the area I live in I am aware of the presence of an Each Uisge [water horse] in a local reservoir* that has drowned many people over the years. These types of fairies are definitely considered Unseelie Court and have a penchant for tricking people into riding them and then eating them. Someone asked what I had done about the Each Uisge being there and I told them I tried to spread the word that it was a dangerous place. But people wanted to know why I didn't try to go in there and actually get rid of the Water Horse or fight it, so I said, rather bluntly, that a Water Horse was beyond my ability to safely deal with. People were quite surprised to hear this and wanted to know how I could know it was there and dangerous and not try to do something about it. I had to try to explain that even in folklore that sort of being is notoriously hard to deal with and extremely dangerous. It's a thousand-plus pound animal with human intelligence. Its fierce. It's fast. And if you touch it you can't let go again.

Let's be realistic here, I may be fairly experienced with these sort of things but I'm not Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And I'm not stupid. I know my limits and taking on a homicidal fairy horse on its own turf is not going to end well.

A local water-horse free lake
For those who seek to truck with uncanny things, to create allies among the Otherworldly folk, to work with the Good Neighbors one of the most important things you must always keep in mind is your own limitations. Magically and physically know exactly what you are capable of doing. Especially when you're dealing with things that are known in folklore to consider humans a food source. Because this isn't a fun exercise in visualization, a game, or the plotline of a teen novel, and there can be some real and serious consequences when you mess up. You can be hurt physically, you can be hurt emotionally, and what I've seen most often is you can be deeply wounded in the soul or spirit. And sometimes those consequences are permanent and sometimes those consequences are fatal.

This is true with any kind of magic or working with spirits (angels scare me spitless, quite frankly with their Old Testament activities) but it should be common sense if you know you're intentionally going to be dealing with something dangerous to treat it as something dangerous. In the mundane world you wouldn't walk up to a wild bear or wolf and try to pet it, and in the same way in the non-mundane you should approach Other Folk with caution. But just like you can handle a wild animal safely if you know how and you know exactly what you personally can and can't do, what your physical limitations are, just so you can often handle spirits and Otherworldly beings as long as you know your capabilities. And even in unexpected situations you can bluff or manage your way out provided you know your own limitations - and a good grounding in folklore doesn't hurt.

There's a certain amount of risk that's required of anyone who seeks to connect to the Good People. But be wise in what you risk, and know exactly how far you can push.

*I call it an each uisge because that's the name that seems to describe it best. Its a large dark horse that lives in the water and drowns people. It doesn't physically consume them as far as I know, but it does feed on their emotions and spirit - if it isn't an actual Celtic water horse then I don't know of any local folklore that explains what it could be.

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Aoibheall, Fairy Queen of Clare

Many of the Irish Fairy Queens were once Goddesses and we know this because they are listed among the ranks of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the Gods of Ireland. However not all of them are so easily traced back to deities, although there may be an argument that they all have their roots in previous land and sovereignty Goddesses. One such more obscure Fairy queen is Aoibheall of Clare, whose folklore goes back to at least the 11th century but who is not found directly among the Tuatha De Danann. 

Bonfire at the Morrigan's Call Retreat 2016

Her name is from the Old Irish word oibell for 'spark, flame, heat' and as an adjective means 'bright or merry'. There are many variants of the spelling of her name including Aoibhell, Aoibhil, Aíbell, Aebill, Eevell, and Ibhell; it is pronounced roughly 'EEval'. By some accounts her name was once Aoibheann [EEvan], which is said to mean beautiful or lovely, from the Old Irish oíbhan 'little beauty'. Understanding the meaning of her name gives us the first clue as to her nature and temperament. 

She is not found named among the lists of the Tuatha Dé Danann, but we may perhaps see a connection there as by some accounts her sister is Clíona, and while folklore does not tell us about Aoibheall's parentage we do know that Clíona's father was Gabann, a druid of Manannán mac Lir. The two are also rivals, specifically over the affections of a man named Caomh; because of this rivalry at one point Clíona turned Aoibheall into a white cat. In folklore Aoibheall was said to have control over the weather and she possesses a magical harp whose music kills those who hear it. Her harp may be why she is considered by some in more recent folklore to be an omen of death.

She was likely originally a territory and sovereignty goddess of Clare, associated with mortal kingship and succession, and is later known as a fairy queen and bean sí. Her sí is at Craig Liath [Craglea] which is also called Craig Aoibheall [Crageevel]. Nearby there is a well associated with her called Tobhar Aoibill. Her presence is connected to the area of Slieve Bearnagh and more generally around Killaloe. One later bit of folklore says that Aoibheall left the area after the wood around Craig Laith was cut down. She is often called the Fairy Queen of Tuamhain [Thomond] which was a historic territory of the Dál cCais that is now modern day Clare, Limerick, and some of Tipperary. 

She is known as the protector of the Dál gCais, and so the O'Briens, and she is called both their bean sí and the banfáidh ó mBriain [prophetess or seeress of the O'Brien's]. It is said that she appeared to Brain Boru in 1014 the night before the battle of Clontarf and predicted his death as well as who his successor would be; she was also said to be the lover of one of his sons. Her involvement with the king, predicting his death, and naming his successor, may all be seen as functions of a territorial or sovereignty Goddess.

She appears as the judge in Merriman's 18th century poem An Cuirt an Mhéan Oíche, hearing the complaint of women that men do them wrong in not marrying them and taking advantage of them. In that poem she is called "the truthful" and "all-seeing". She sides with the women, ruling that men must marry by 21 or are open to women's reprisals. She also appears in the folk song An Buachaill Caol Dubh where she asks the spirit of alcohol, personified as a 'dark, slim boy', to release a person under his sway.

Aoibheall is a complex folkloric figure. If she was once a Goddess the proof of it has now been lost although hints remain in her powers and activities. Her actions in poem and song seem benevolent, yet in folklore she is associated with death, both through its prediction and causing it with her harp music. Like many Fairy Queens she takes human lovers, and we might associate her with cats, especially white ones, and with fire. Like the flame itself she is named beautiful, yet can be either terribly destructive or a great blessing. Ultimately she is as much mystery as certainty. 

Marshall, R., (2013). Clare Folk tales
MacKillop, J., (1998) A Dictionary of Celtic Mythology
O hOgain, D., (2006) Lore of Ireland
Westropp, T., (1910). Folklore of Clare
Merriman, B., (2006) The Midnight Court - translated by Ciaran Carson
An Buachaill Caol Dubh - folk song

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Shifting Spirituality

This is going to be complicated. Also mysticism and personal experiences ahead. Proceed at your own risk.

I went to Ireland six months ago, and its been a time of transition and refocusing since then.

I don't tend to always share a lot of really deep personal stuff, for various reasons, including worry about how my experiences will be perceived. I've been reflecting a lot on that lately, but its kind of a side issue. People in my life have asked what's going on with me spiritually and I've mentioned that I'm working on processing a lot of things. I wrote a bit about the more spiritual side of my trip last year after I'd come back in my blog Muddy Boots or Setting My Feet on the Path and that did show that things had taken an unexpected turn. I'm sure people who read my blog have noticed a shift in what I write about, and that also is a bit indicative as I always write about whatever is interesting me at the moment.

I went to Ireland, considering myself someone who was very focused on the Daoine Eile but who was also largely a polytheist working on honoring the Gods and doing their work as best I could. I had been dedicated to Odin for a decade within a Heathen context and was dedicated to Macha, and had a strong relationship with the Morrigan and Badb as well. Not to mention the other Gods I regularly honored. The entire point of the Ireland trip was a pilgrimage to honor the Morrigan. If I had to give numbers to things I would have said my practice broke down to like 55% Othercrowd, 45% Gods and 10% ancestors. The Good People were what gave everything cohesion and held the diversity of my practices together, but they were still only a portion.

Then Ireland.

I wrote about it in the blog linked above, so I'll spare you the tl;dr re-hashing but it changed everything, while simultaneously not changing things. My personal experience of that trip was entirely Daoine Sí focused. There are some details I haven't told many people before, although these are things a few people are aware of or became aware of separately. That doesn't entirely matter. On the dark moon in October, in Uaimh na gCat I saw the sí of Cruachan open and I had an aisling there. Not of the Morrigan, which is what I had expected, but of a different Queen, from Elsewhere. The next night at Tlachtga in ritual I was named a priestess of the aos sí, a title I chose to accept. This has had some repercussions which I'm still sorting out.

Upon arriving home I was fairly seriously ill for several months with respiratory infections that just wouldn't quit. During this period everything has shifted to focus on the aos sí. That may not sound like a big shift for me, but it really is; its profound. Odin, after 10 years of dedication, severed my oaths to himself, which was a really difficult thing for me. I currently have no clear idea of where I stand with Macha, and while I don't think that's come to an end, it feels different now. The Gods in general still feel present but not nearly as immediately as they always have. For the first time in over 25 years the gods, in one form or another, by one name or another, are not a significant aspect of my daily or even general spirituality. Those numbers I mentioned before? They've shifted at this point to something closer to 90% Othercrowd, 5% Gods, 5% ancestors. That's a seismic shift for me and I feel like I'm floundering trying to find a balance with it.

The Tuatha Dé Danann are among the aos sí, and that's a layer of complication I'm still sorting out. Because its not simple or straightforward. As an animist I've always seen the Gods as just a powerful type of spirit, and I still think that is so, yet this is showing me there is also a distinction here, almost a tribal division going on somewhere dividing groups of spirits, of Gods from not-Gods. Of Aesir from alfar. I haven't sorted it all out yet, and honestly I think it's going to be a slow process as I feel my way along. Because as I mentioned the Gods aren't gone, its just that my relationship to them has changed.

What I do know is that I'm in service to a Fairy Queen, and have been since last Samhain. And that's something new I have to figure out as well. At the time she didn't tell me her name, only that I wasn't to cut my hair anymore (yay for personal geasa). I thought I had figured out who she was over the last six months, but I was wrong. She finally did tell me her name and she is someone I know literally almost nothing about, which if you know me you'll know is pretty unnerving for me. But there's been independent confirmation from two sources - friends who I trust and who are talented with psychic things, although they may not phrase it that way - who described her and told me details about her without my telling them anything about what was going on, so its hard for me not to trust this.

So that's where I'm at. Moving forward one step at a time, doing what I've always done and trying to rely on both academic resources and mysticism to see me though. I've let go of a lot of labels recently which has been an enormously difficult thing. Labels, in there own way, are an aspect of self-definition, so letting go of those words has been a process of letting go of pieces of myself that don't fit any more.

Still a witch. A priestess of the Good People. No idea about any of the rest of it.

Thursday, May 11, 2017

The Queen of Elfland

 One figure that we see appearing in Scottish folklore in ballads, stories, and witch trial accounts is the Queen of Elfland or Queen of Fairies. This Queen is never named explicitly in these accounts but only referred to by her title and usually appears alone although in some rare cases she was known to have a king by her side. An enigmatic figure she traveled to the mortal world in some ballads and took young men who interested her, keeping them for a period of time, and in other stories she held court in Fairy itself. In all cases she appeared to be a powerful and influential force.

"Under the Eildon Tree Thomas Met the Lady" by Katherine Cameron, public domain
In ballads the Queen of Elfland appears frequently, often having stolen a young man. In the ballad of Tam Lin the eponymous character relates to the protagonist Janet that when he fell from his horse as a youth the Queen of Fairies caught him and took him "in yon green hill to dwell" (Acland, 1997). Fearing that he is about to be given as the fairies' tithe to Hell Tam Lin then convinces the pregnant Janet to save him by pulling him from his horse as the Queen leads a procession out on Halloween night, which Janet does; she successfully holds onto him through a series of fearsome transformations, winning him away from the Queen. The Queen then curses Janet for stealing away her best knight (rather ironic that) and says that had she known this would happen she would have either taken out Tam Lin's eyes and replaced them with 'eyes of a tree' or his heart and replaced it with one of stone, depending on the version of the ballad. In a similar ballad with a less successful end for the human protagonist, The Faerie Oak of Corriewater, a sister tries to do much the same as Janet to win back her brother who has been taken by the Queen of Fairies, but when her brother is turned to fire in her arms she is afraid and tries to drop him at which point she herself goes up in flames. In contrast to this act of destruction, in the ballad of Alison Gross the Queen of the Seely Court comes across a man bespelled into the shape of a worm, as she and her court are riding our on Halloween, and she returns him to his true shape. Getting back to the theme of the Queen of Elfland taking people we look at the Ballad of Thomas the Rhymer, were a man sees a beautiful woman riding on a horse and after calling her the Queen of Heaven she corrects him and say that she is in fact the Queen of Elfland (Acland, 1997). In some versions she offers him a kiss and then declares that he must come with her to serve her for 7 years, in other versions the two have sex and afterwards she seems to his sight to have become an ugly hag, but nonetheless she compels him to go with her; once in Fairy her beauty is returned (Acland, 1997; Henderson & Cowan, 2007). It's possible this ugly appearance is a test for Thomas as he faces several others in Fairy including the requirement that he not speak while he is there. It was not always young men who were taken however, as we see in 'The Queen of Elfan's Nourice' where the Queen abducts a nursing mother, with the promise that the woman will be freed when the child she is wet-nursing reaches a certain height (Buchan, 1991).

The Queen of Elfland in the ballads has some common themes. When she is described she is usually on a white horse and wearing green. The white horse is almost certainly a sign of rank or importance as well as being a color associated with fairy animals and green is a common color for fairies to wear in folklore, placing her appearance solidly in the realm of the supernatural. She is said be incomparably beautiful, sometimes compared to the Christian Queen of Heaven, and her actions are best described as mercurial. A kiss as either an element of binding or as payment features in both The Faerie Oak of Corriewater and Thomas the Rhymer. In all the ballads we see her able to both bless and curse people, having the power to transform what she chooses and as we see in Thomas the Rhymer to give the gift of prophecy and true speech. She often takes people, but usually for set amount of time which seems to have been agreed on beforehand, and those who are taken can be won free with effort. She is a power that transcends humanity yet chooses to seek it out and interact with humans, for both good and ill.

The Queen also appears in the witch trial documents, as some of the Scottish witches said it was to this Fairy Queen and not the Christian Devil that they owed allegiance. Isobel Gowdie, one of the most well-known Scottish witches, described the Queen of Fairy well dressed in white and claimed she had been taken into the fairy hill and given as much meat as she could eat (Henderson & Cowan, 2007). In this case, as meat was a luxury food, it may be that what Isobel was fed was form of payment for her services. She also said she was taught things and given elfshot to use against people. Accused witch Bessie Dunlop claimed that she encountered the Queen of Elfland when she [Bessie] was giving birth, and Alison Pearson was put on trial and accused, in part, for spending time with the 'Quene of Elfame' (Henderson & Cowan, 2007). Many of these witches claimed in the trials to have been brought to Fairy to meet with the Queen or the Queen and King of Elfland and related things they had done or seen while there. These visits and the relationship with the Queen more generally usually involved being taught knowledge of healing herbs and skills, and in some cases potentially of cursing. Another Scottish witch, Andro Man, claimed to have had repeated sexual encounters with the Queen of Elfland, or as he called it Elphin (Henderson & Cowan, 2007). This tie in to sexuality is an interesting echo of what we see in the ballads where the Queen also uses sex and intimacy to bind men to her service. Several of these witches said it was this Queen who directed them in their witchcraft and assigned them a fairy as a familiar spirit (Wilby, 2005).

The Queen of Elfland could easily be dismissed today as simply an old literary trope and yet when we look at both her presence in the ballads and her pervasive role in the witchcraft trial testimony, we may perhaps come to another conclusion. She could represent a deeper folklore echo of a goddess, once found in Scotland, whose name has since been lost and who over time went from a deity to a Fairy Queen, and eventually to a literary character. Certainly we see such a pattern in Ireland, although there the names of the Fairy Queens are preserved still and we can trace them back to their former divine persona. We can see hints of this in the Queen of Elfland's appearance and actions in the ballads and more so in the testimony from the witch trials, where she tended to appear to people in circumstances of dire need or liminal states, such as Bessie Dunlop giving birth; to supplant the role of the deity they worshiped previously; and to represent a power that protected, blessed, and empowered them in their lives. This is all supposition, of course, but it is an interesting theory based on the evidence. The Fair Folk at any rate occupy a transitional place between deities and humans and whether she is a goddess or not the Fairy Queen is doubtless a powerful force and one who can help or harm as she chooses.

Buchan, D., (1991) 'Ballads of Otherworld Beings', The Good People
Acland, A., (1997) Tam Lin Child Ballad 39A
Acland, A., (1997) Thomas the Rhymer
Henderson, L., and Cowan, E., (2007) Scottish Fairy Belief

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Simple Magic, Butter and Salt

There was a time when my magical practices were fairly complicated, and I suppose sometimes they still can be. I won't deny that I like my fancy candles and herbs as much as most witches do, and I am fond of a variety of woods and natural materials. There is something visceral and satisfying in working with these tangible things, in - for example - making my own incense and watching a variety of herbs beings ground slowly into one united purpose. Its fun to have a range of tools in the metaphysical tool kit to draw on.

But I can also appreciate a more simple approach. There are times when simple isn't just more convenient but also more powerful. You aren't being distracted by the need for a long or complex process, or trying to focus on something that may be involved or detailed. There's a purity in minimalism that can add instead of detract. For a while I forgot this.

 When I was first starting out in witchcraft I was very young and so very limited in what I had access to for supplies. Some generic incense. Inexpensive candles. Yarn. Salt. Cornmeal for offerings. And yet with these basic things I was able to practice my spirituality and magic just fine; I never felt as if my humble tools limited my ability or success. To give you an example at one point when I was in high school one of my uncles who I was very fond of had a heart attack and I wanted to do a healing spell for him. Since I had nothing to work with I used a piece of notebook paper and cut out a poppet from that, believing that it was the image itself that mattered for the spell not the quality of the material used. The old witches after all used what they had on hand.

But like many people as my means increased so did my desire for fancier and more elaborate things. The books I was reading in the 90's and early 00's tended to leave me with the impression that fancier was better, with spells often including a list of exotic ingredients, from herbs and oils to crystals and manufactured tools. I'm not criticizing those things of course - they work and they work well. But eventually I realized that so do the plants growing in my yard and the stones I can find in the earth and streams around me, provided I know what they are and how to use them.

As time has gone on I've noticed both in myself and in some other people a refining of the go-to magical tools. In some cases as I mentioned above its a turning back to more locally sourced supplies. In other cases it may include that but also go even further, a refining to the simplest approaches, of something for blessing and something for banishing. For some people these tools refine down to fire and water, or perhaps earth and light. For me its salt and butter. I've found that in almost any circumstance one or the other can be used, either salt for banishing, protection, or cleansing, or butter for offering, blessing, and healing. I always carry a bit of salt and butter on me as a kind of emergency magical kit and I have found it extremely useful under a variety of unexpected circumstances.

Magic can be complicated and many magical processes and spells can also be complex. Yet magic can also be straightforward, especially folk magic. Singing a chant. Speaking a blessing over an object or person. Offering butter to spirits. Salting a boundary. Gathering herbs from your yard. Hanging up a hag stone. Simple actions, yet when done with intention and focus, they can be very powerful.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

What's in a Name? Imp, Elf, Fairy, Good Neighbor

When it comes to the denizens of Fairy, what's in a name? As it happens a lot, but there's also a great deal of confusion because many of the terms in English that we apply today to specific beings are rooted in generic terms that were once interchangeable. The water is further muddied by the widespread use of euphemisms, designed to encourage a positive response should you attract the attention of anything Otherworldly. These terms which we now think of as exclusively applying to one specific type of Otherworldly being a few hundred years ago, or less, were used synonymously with each other and different groupings of terms had certain connotations for good or ill. What one called the beings popularly named fairies today would dictate the way they would respond, and whether that response would be friendly or hostile. 

This Scottish poem demonstrates some of the variety of synonymous terms we see in the folk cultures:
"Gin ye ca' me imp or elf
I rede ye look weel to yourself;
Gin ye call me fairy
I'll work ye muckle tarrie;
Gind guid neibour ye ca' me
Then guid neibour I will be;
But gin ye ca' me seelie wicht
I'll be your freend baith day and nicht."
 - Chambers, 1842
[If you call me imp or elf
I counsel you, look well to yourself;
If you call me fairy
I'll work you great misery;
If good neighbor you call me
Then good neighbor I will be;
But if you call me seelie wight*
I'll be your friend both day and night]

La Belle Dame sans Merci by Waterhouse 1893

Looking at this 19th century rhyme we see an assortment of terms that can all be applied to the Good Folk, each of which either angers or pleases them. We're advised that calling a member of the Other Crowd an imp, elf, or fairy will anger them, while calling them 'Good Neighbor' or seelie wight will gain their favor. However all of these various terms are treated synonymously rather than as unique terms for different types of beings. There is no idea that these are different types of beings, but rather that these are all terms that someone might choose to apply to the same being. This reflects an older understanding that saw the members of Fairy more fluidly and less rigidly categorized. 

The first two terms mentioned, which are used together, are imp and elf. Imp comes to us as a term in older forms of English that originally denoted a child but by the 16th century had become a term for a small devilish being (Harper, 2017). Similarly the English word elf during that period was often used to both describe a malicious creature, often used interchangeably with incubus and goblin, as well as more generically to describe any Otherworldly being (Williams, 1991). There was often a fine, sometimes indistinguishable, line between the demonic and the Otherworldly and it was not uncommon in older sources to see the same being described by one person as a demon or incubus and by another as an elf or fairy. The activities of some of these beings was also a grey area that could be considered evil as it may involve seduction, violence, or death. So we see in the first line of the poem two terms often used to indicate potentially dangerous beings, with the warning that to call them such is to invite the danger they represent. 

An image of the Cottingley Fairies, circa 1917

Next we see the term fairy*, with the warning that to call them that invites great misery. The term fairy is actually a complicated one, of obscure origin, which was originally used to describe the Otherworld itself - the world of Fairy - and as an adjective for beings from that world or a type of enchantment (Williams, 1991). Only later would the word itself shift to indicate an individual being. In this sense it is strongly reminiscent of the Irish term 'sidhe' (later sí) which in the same way is a word indicating a place and used as an adjective, but that has recently started to be used to indicate the individual beings. When it comes to the word fairy in early sources, including Chaucer, we see the beings referred to often as elves and their world as Fairy (Williams, 1991). Why this word would offend them may seem less clear to us today, however just as the words imp and elf had strong associations with evil the word fairy at different points had pejorative uses, including being applied to sexually loose women and later homosexual men, in both cases carrying overtones of sexual impropriety (Briggs, 1967). These associations towards people only came later, likely because of the word fairy's meaning relating to the Otherworld and enchantment which when used to describe a person implied uncanniness and improper behavior. Since early sources do not indicate the word fairy caused any insult I would suggest that it was this pejorative association that was the source of the offense and with their dislike for the term. In a modern context fairy is possibly the most widely used generic term for all Otherworldly beings as well as a specific term for small winged beings. 

Next we see the term Good Neighbor, one of the more well know euphemisms. I haven't been able to trace how far back this one goes, but I do know that the use of euphemisms has a long history. For example we can find the term Fair Folk [Fair Folkis] in a work from 1513 by Gavin Douglas. The idea of euphemisms is simple: you use a nice term for them and they respond in a nice way. This is illustrated by the poem itself, "If Good Neighbor you call me, then good neighbor I will be". As such we see all the euphemisms reflecting positive qualities, from Good Neighbor and Fair Folk, to Good People and the Gentry. 

The final term used in the poem is Seelie wicht, a name we are assured that will gain us the friendship of the Fey folk 'both day and night' if it's used. Wicht is a Scots term, also found in related languages including Old English, Icelandic, and German, that simply means a living thing. Sometimes seen as wight in English it is often used in combination with good as a term for the fairies; guid wichts, good wights, the fairies. Seelie is a Scots term that means lucky, blessed, fortunate. So, in effect, seelie wicht means 'lucky or blessed being'. Understandable why they'd be so pleased at the use of this term then. It is also seen in one of the more well known Scots euphemisms for the fairies, Seelie court, which has grown into a complex concept in itself. 

So, what's in a name? Ultimately the meaning and context of the name seems to be the key to whether it pleases or offends the Othercrowd when we call them by it. They respond well to being complimented and flattered with favorable terms, explaining perhaps why the use of euphemisms became so popular, and are angered at being insulted. To offend them is to risk their wrath; to please them is to invite their blessing. 

*although in modern terms people tend to associate the word fairy with a specific type of small winged sprite, the word itself has long been used and is still used in many places to simply refer to any being of the Otherworld.

Chambers, R., (1842) Popular Rhymes, Fireside Stories, and Amusements of Scotland
Harper, D., (2017). Imp, Online Etymology Dictionary
Williams, N., (1991). The Semantics of the Word Fairy; article in the anthology 'The Good People: New Fairylore Essays'
DSL (2017) Dictionary of the Scots Language
Briggs, K., (1967). the Fairies in Literature and Tradition

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

The Influence of Folk Etymologies

  Something I've been giving some thought to recently is the influence of the meaning of names. Most pagans I know are at least curious about what a deity or mythic figure's name means and knowing the etymology then adds a layer of understanding about that deity. If we interpret the Morrigan's name to mean 'Great Queen' I think that must in some way influence how we understand her more generally, the same way that understanding Boinn as the 'White Cow' or Oengus as 'Unique Force' shapes how we view them. But some of the understandings of names, even the older ones, are based on folk etymology, that is on definitions that are popular with people but are actually incorrect. Nonetheless these inaccurate but sometimes widespread name-meanings have an effect and also contribute to how deities and mythic figures are perceived by adding new layers of meaning to Gods and in many cases changing how they are understood.

For example the Dagda has many names including 'Ollathair' which is Old Irish for 'great/vast/ample father'; this probably ties in, I believe, to his possession of the cauldron of abundance and his widespread fame, Yet many people today believe that Ollathair means 'All Father', based on oll's similarity with the English all (the two are basically homophones). Understanding him as a 'Vast Father' is clearly different than seeing him as an 'All Father', since one implies greatness in the sense of size or magnitude while the other is usually interpreted to imply a literal fathering of the pantheon.

Étaín's name is thought to most likely be a diminutive form of the word jealousy:  ét, jealousy; -an indicating small or little. However I have seen folk etymologies that give her name as a seed or kernel, possibly confusing her name with the word etne. Although the kernel meaning is inaccurate people find it resonates probably because of her mythology; the Goddess reborn as a woman and then transformed into a fairy queen. There is clearly a lot of difference though between seeing her as strongly tied to jealousy - a major theme in her myth - or to rebirth and the qualities of a seed - another arguable theme in her mythology.

Badb's name means 'hooded crow' primarily and can also be an adjective meaning 'deadly, ill-fated, dangerous'. However several modern sources erroneously claim that her name means 'boiling' or 'one who boils' which has led to associations between Badb and cauldrons, and even the idea of herself as deity of the afterlife and rebirth. In the same way Macha's name actually means 'hooded crow' or 'field, milking field, plain' yet some modern sources say it means 'battle' which shifts her from a more pastoral deity to a strongly martial one*. In both these examples the actual meaning and the folk etymology are at odds and the folk etymology gives a profoundly different understanding of the Goddess in question.

The Fairy Queen and sovereignty Goddess associated with county Clare, Aoibheall is an obscure figure. Her name is based in the Old Irish oibell which means 'heat, spark, flame, bright' which paints one picture of her probable nature. But a source from 1906 defined her name as meaning 'beautiful', which has a very different connotation and could lead people to draw different conclusions about her nature. One carries with it the caution we have around all fiery things, while the other is simply attractive and appealing.

One of the most well known and oldest of these folk etymologies comes to us from an Irish glossary, which told us hundreds of years ago that Brighid's name was rooted in the words 'breo-saighead' meaning fiery arrow. Of course her name comes from Brig, meaning 'high' or 'exalted', but the fiery-arrow meaning has become deeply rooted in people's minds. Its evocative and people already liked connecting her to fire so the idea that her name had a fiery meaning has appeal. It creates associations and connections that weren't there before the folk etymology though.

These are only a handful of examples but hopefully they illustrate the point I'm trying to make about the difference we see in meaning between the actual etymology from the source language and the folk etymologies we find going around. I'm not saying that folk etymology is right or wrong, good or bad, but it is something we need to be aware of. I am encouraging people to reflect on the way that what we think a name means changes how we view the being that name is attached to. We can't always know what a name means, and sometimes there's disagreement over the ultimate meaning of a name - is the Morrigan the Great Queen or the Phantom Queen? - but whether we realize it or not the meaning we associate with a name does shape how we think of that being.

*although in Macha's case she does have battle associations so the difference in understanding is more in a loss of the layers we gain from seeing her connection to the land and to abundance through cows, than an added meaning given through the folk etymology and not found elsewhere. 

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Cétemain, Cain Cucht ~ May-time, Beautifully Formed

The following is a poem said to have been spoken by Finn Mac Cumal

Cétemain, cain cucht

1 Cétemain, cain cucht,
rée rosaír rann;
canait luin laíd láin
día laí (grían) gaí n-gann.
2 Gairid cuí chrúaid den;
is fo-chen sam saír:
suidid síne serb
i m-bi cerb caill chraíb.
3 Cerbaid sam súaill sruth;
saigid graig lúath linn;
lethaid fota fraích;
for-beir folt fann finn.
4 Fúapair sceith scell scíach;
im-reith réid rían rith;
cuirithir sál súan;
tuigithir bláth bith.
5 Berait beich (bec nert)
bert bonn bochtai bláith;
berid slabrai slíab:
feraid saidbir sáith.
6 Seinnid caille céol;
con-greinn séol síd slán;
síatair denn do dinn,
dé do loch linn lán.
7 Labraid tragna trén;
canaid ess n-ard n-úag
fáilti do (thoinn) té;
táinic lúachra lúad.
8 Lengait fainnle fúas;
(im-said) crúas cíuil (cróich)
for-beir mes máeth méth;
(innisid loth loíth).
9 (Leig lath fath feig);
(fert) ar-cain cuí chrúaid;
cuirithir brecc bedc;
is balc (gedc) láith lúaith.
10 Losaid foirbríg fer;
óg a m-búaid m-breg m-bras;
caín cach caille clár;
caín cach mag már mas.
11 Melldach rée rann;
(ro fáith) gaíth garb gam;
gel ros; toirthech (tonn);
(oll) síd; subach sam.
12 Suidigthir íall én
(i n-íath) i m-bí ben;
búirithir gort glas
i m-bí bras glas gel.
13 Greit mer, imrim ech;
im-sernar sreth slúaig;
rosáer rath geilestar:
ór eilestar úaid.
14 Ecal aird fer fann;
fedil fochain ucht;
uiss ima-cain
‘Cetemain, cain cucht’.

- Kuno Meyer, Revue celtique 5, 1881

May-time, Beautifully Formed

1 May-time, beautifully formed, 
time moves forward in its division; 
the blackbird clearly sings his songs 
praise of day's (sun's) scarce spear.
2 The rough-colored cuckoo calls; 
to welcome summer's arrival: 
settled is a bitter age 
in entering a silver forest of trees.
3 Summer cuts short a trifling river; 
seeking out swift water horses; 
extending long hair; 
growing hair soft and shining.
4 Dashing attacks on a warrior's shield; 
the sea's path rotates easily; 
causing the sea's magical sleep; 
flowers covering the world.
5 Bees carry (little strength) 
a burden of wild angelica, gathering flowers; 
cattle go up the mountains: 
supplying a sufficiency of wealth.
6 The harp plays music; 
 music gathering in complete peace; 
color settled on every height, 
haze from the lake full of waters.
7 The corncrake speaks strongly; 
a young, high waterfall sings 
welcome to the warm (wave); 
discussion of rushes has come.
8 The swallow freely leaps; 
(circling) a gentle song (the hill) 
crops growing soft and rich; 
(the stammering marsh announces).
9 (The warrior stone's covering is luminous); 
a (grave-mound) cuckoo sings sternly; 
leaps away the speckled [fish]; 
powerful are the (may-fly) swift warriors.
10 Men's vigor grows; 
youths of victory, fitness, boastfulness; 
beautiful every forest plain; 
beautiful every great plain's foundation.
11 Delightful quarter of time; 
(gone are) rough winter winds; 
bright woods; fruitful (wave); 
(great) peace; cheerful summer.
12 A flock of birds settles 
(in a territory) in abundance; 
noise in green fields
in loud living bright green.
13 A wild hero, riding horses; 
the ordered host is arrayed around; 
crafted a fort's cattle pond: 
the water-source gold underneath.
14 A timid weak person's attention; 
enduring call in the air; 
larks singing around 
‘Maytime, beautifully formed’.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

The Good Witch: Redefining Witches on TV and Defining the Witch I Want To Be

"The first step in a new direction doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be a step."
- Cassie Nightingale, 'The Good Witch'

As you might imagine if you've read my blog for any length of time, I'm not generally a Hallmark Channel sort of person. More like SyFy Channel or Chiller. There is one big exception to that however in the form of The Good Witch. For those unfamiliar, The Good Witch started as a 2008 made-for-tv movie, followed by a sequel, then additional movies each consecutive year through 2014, and starting in 2015 a television series that is  now going into its third season. If you like it it's a rather addictive thing to watch. I've been known to marathon the movies with my children. They won't be to everyone's taste, they are after all Hallmark Channel fair, saccharine sweet at times and melodramatic. But they are also I think a type of modern myth, subtly interwoven with magic in ways that don't so much ask us to suspend our disbelief as get us to forget we ever didn't believe that this kind of every day magic was possible. They also offer us a new vision of television witches that retains the mystery and functional magic but loses the supernatural.

The movies are based around the life of Cassie Nightingale, a woman with some serious magic although she's never explicitly identified as either a pagan or a witch (despite the title of the movies). It's an endless open ended question whether Cassie really is a witch, but its heavily implied that she is: she owns a store named Bell, Book, and Candle* that sells exactly the sorts of things any self-respecting witchy store would sell, from crystals to tinctures made by Cassie, from sage to occult(ish) jewelry; when people come to her for magical spells she never disappoints although she never exactly responds as you'd expect either; and of course she owns a supposedly haunted house and talks to animals and plants. She also has an uncanny knowledge of things, an ability to mysteriously appear, and owns a black cat named Isis. So its not hard to picture her as a witch, whether she calls herself that or not (and the title of the movies and show doesn't hurt either). But the most enchanting thing about Cassie is that she not only believes in the goodness of people but she has a way of bringing it out in them if it can be brought out. When there's a bad guy that needs to be dealt with Cassie's brand of subtle magic is still effective and more she has a way of letting events play out so that the antagonist orchestrates their own downfall. But that's rarely the outcome and that's one of the reasons I really like this show - because it demonstrates to us that the 'bad guys' are just people too, maybe people making bad choices, or people with difficult situations of their own, but usually in the end we see them as human beings who had reasons for what they were doing. And Cassie somehow finds ways to help them too if she can.

The television series is a bit different. It divides its focus between Cassie and her teenage daughter Grace, and to a lesser degree Cassie's cousin Abigail. They provide three views on magic, using it, having it, living with it. Cassie is much like she is in the movies of course, although we see her doing less of her actual magic, subtle as it was, and more of her intuitive knowing and helping people with that. Grace shares her mother's intuitive gift but struggles with it and the desire to be normal and fit in at school. And Abigail is the magical loose cannon who has power and uses it to her own advantage, rather than for others. Seeing all three is a great way to see, in action, the way that the different approaches play out in their lives without the show being overly or overtly preachy about it. They aren't perfect, they make mistakes, but the things they deal with are the same things we all deal with and their magic seems both plausible and natural.

In a way Cassie, Grace, and Abigail show how far we as witches have come on television. These witches aren't caricatures or supernatural beings, not witches in the school of Bewitched or Charmed, or even of the classic Bell, Book ,and Candle, with the idea of separation from humans and impossible magic, doomed in a way to always suffer for their power and to never really have a place in our world unless they give some part of that power up. Here we see witches as normal members of society, a business owner, an employee, a high school student, dealing with the same life problems everyone else has, from being bullied to needing to find a plumber. But the magic remains. The enchantment is still there. Not as a twitch of the nose or flick of the hand but as a focusing of the mind and setting of intentions. And I love that.

I really like Cassie's character in particular and I always have. If you asked me what it was that hooked me from the first movie and kept me hooked through the following 6 movies, tv special, and two seasons of the show, I would unequivocally answer that it was Cassie Nightingale. I think in a way Cassie is an expression of the ideal witch to me; she isn't afraid to use magic, often and powerfully, but she uses it wisely; she helps others; she is humble; she is kind and strong; and she sees the value in all the life around her, plants, animals, people, places. She brings out the best in everyone around her. She generally doesn't interfere in things that need to be left alone to play out on their own, but she always knows just when and where to step in. And somehow no matter what's going on she always sees the bigger pattern, like the World card in the tarot, and she always finds some silver lining to any situation she's dealing with. She's positive without being unrealistic, nurturing without being smothering, wise without being arrogant, enchanting without being fantastical. Cassie is a television witch for a modern age, but she is also the ideal of what we all could be.

I have no delusion that I am like Cassie. I think in practice I'm probably more like her cousin Abigail, and I'm honest enough to admit it. My witchcraft is fairy-ridden, gritty, muddy, moon-dark, smokey, and thorn-sharp; I'm probably more than a bit of those things myself on a good day. But I want to be more like Cassie, I really do. I deeply admire everything about her that I discussed before, from her boundless optimism and ability to see the good in any situation to her quiet wisdom and gentle way of transforming people into their best selves. And so I strive to be more Cassie-like, whether I succeed or fail at it. I hold her up as my ideal witch role model. And the beauty of The Good Witch and of Cassie herself is that she makes it feel possible to make that kind of magic and to be that kind of person. She makes it seem possible for us all to be like her in small ways and little steps.

I've always been a sucker for witchy themed movies and shows. I loved Practical Magic and The Craft. I have the entire series of Charmed on DVD. They are fiction, of course, and silly and sometimes wildly unrealistic, but I still love them. The Good Witch is different. Its different because its made to be something that could be real, rather than something where the supernatural is raising-the-dead, fighting demons fantasy. Cassie's magic always feels possible. Cassie's way with people feels natural. This is a story that seems like it could happen instead of something that belongs in the pages of a novel. I love it for that. And I love Cassie for inspiring me to want to be more like her, even if I'll always have a little Abigail and shenanigans going on.

Original pencil sketch M Daimler
*Bell, Book, and Candle is the name of a 1958 movie staring Kim Novak about witches in New York. One of the main plot points is that if a witch loves a mortal she loses her power forever.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Misinformation and Truths about the Morrigan

There seems to have been a recent uptick in interest in the Morrigan again and I'm seeing a lot of misinformation floating around, so I thought it would be helpful to offer clarification on some things. These aren't personal opinions so much as facts from the Irish language and mythology. Keep in mind, however, that everyone makes mistakes when it comes to things coming from other languages and everyone can fall prey to bad information being shared around, especially if they haven't read or aren't very familiar with the source material. So this is meant as a helpful resource to correct some of the most common mistakes and misinformation that I see floating around. 

One thing that I've seen repeated both online and in at least one book is the assertion that the Morrigan is never called a Goddess in Irish mythology or sources. 

This is untrue, the Morrigan is called a Goddess at least twice that I can think of off hand. 
In the Metrical Dindshenchas, poem 49 Odras, which says: 
dosrocht ben in Dagda; 
ba samla día sóach Mórrígan mórda,
ba slóg-dírmach sámda
"[then] the wife of the Dagda came,
a phantom the shape-shifting Goddess.
...the mighty Mórrígan,
whose ease was a host of troops."
In the Tochmarch Emire we also have this: 

"‘H-i Ross Bodbo .i. na Morrighno, ar iss ed a ross-side Crich Roiss& iss i an bodb catha h-i & is fria id-beurur bee Neid .i. bandee incatæ, uair is inann be Neid & dia cathæ’."
"In the Wood of Badb, that is of the Morrigu, therefore her proven-wood the land of Ross, and she is the Battle-Crow and is also called the woman of Neit, that is Goddess of Battle,because Neit is also a God of Battle."
I have quoted them in the original language to illustrate that the word used in is fact “goddess”: día in the first example and bandee in the second. Don't let anyone tell you different.

Another thing that I've been seeing off and on is people spelling the Morrigan's name 'Mhorrigan' or 'Mhorrigu'. Outside of some very specific circumstances* when writing in Irish the Morrigan's name is NOT spelled with an initial 'Mh'. Unless you are an Irish speaker writing in Irish in the case that calls for lenition, please don't do this. Its grammatically incorrect and it looks really weird. Also it would then be pronounced Worrigan (or Vorrigan I suppose, depending on dialect). Which is how I read it every time I see it.

On a related note, there's also something of a trend to spell her name 'Morrighan'. I think this may be a version from the middle Irish that somehow mainstreamed, so it is a legitimate spelling. But as with the example above the pronunciation would be different, closer to 'MORE-ree-(gh)uhn', with the gh a sound that's swallowed at the back of the throat. The modern Irish is Mór-ríoghain, pronounced like 'MORE-ree-uhn' with the g lost entirely. If all of that looks like either too much effort or too hard to process then stick with the Anglicized Morrigan (MORE-rig-ann) or the Old Irish Morrigan (MORE-rih-gahn). 
If this all seems like a huge pain in the butt, well, sorry, but this is the deal when you are honoring a goddess from a foreign culture and another language. Spelling matters. Pronunciation matters, in relation to the spelling you are using. 

Speaking of names, the Morrigan is always referred to with the definitive 'the' before her name, unless she's being directly addressed like in a prayer. I've been seeing a tendency for people to drop this recently, and its worth keeping in mind that in Irish culture and mythology she's always referred to as the Morrigan. It may help to keep in mind that her name translates to a title - either Great Queen or Phantom Queen, so try thinking that you are saying that. Does it feel weird in English to say "I honor Great Queen" or "My goddess is Great Queen"? Exactly. Which is why we say the Morrigan, the Great Queen.  

The idea that the Morrigan is associated with falcons and rebirth: not in the mythology or Irish folklore. I've traced this one back to an online article from 2005 which as far as I can tell is the source for the belief, as well as the idea that she is a Goddess of rebirth (also not something from mythology). The article was one person's thoughts and opinions and was not in any way based on mythology, but rather the person's intuition which the author was very upfront about. 

The Morrigan and the Dagda's union at Samhain is another thing I often hear misinformation about. Basically I hear people repeating the idea that the Dagda sought out the Morrigan before Samhain, before a big battle, and had sex with her in exchange for her promise to help fight in the battle and/or for battle advice. I've actually written a whole blog just about this subject, but the bullet points are:
- the Dagda didn't seek her out, it was a yearly pre-arranged meeting at that location
- we have no idea what they discussed before having sex, only that they talked
- yes, they had sex, but according to Dindshechas they were married, and also in the text of the Cath Maige Tuired where we find this particular story it refers to the location this happened at as 'the bed of the married couple'. I realize most translations give it as Bed of the Couple but the exact word used, Lanamhou, is a version of a term for one of the legal states of marriage in Irish law. 
- yes the Morrigan did give the Dagda battle advice right after the sex and did aid the Tuatha Dé Danann by promising to weaken one of the opposing kings, but she had already been aiding them, specifically by singing an incitement to Lugh to encourage him to fight and prepare for the battle. So since she'd already acted on her own to help them before this it doesn't make sense to see this meeting between a married couple at a yearly tryst as some kind of pay-off for her to help her own people.  
Basically what we have is a yearly meeting of a married couple at a specific location, some marital sex, some martial advice, and some battle magic against a common enemy. 

The Morrigan and Cu Chulainn probably deserve a blog of their own, but again some quick bullet points addressing misinformation:
- The Morrigan loved Cu Chulainn: Well, no, not in a romantic way, not that we have any proof of although she certainly had an interest in him. There is one story (which does not appear in every version of the Táin Bó Cuiligne but only a few later ones) where she appears to him in disguise as a king's daughter, and she does tell him that she fell in love with him 'upon hearing of' his fame. However this is highly suspicious for multiple reasons. Firstly she's in disguise for a reason, because they two of them had previously met and had a rather dramatic disagreement with each other (see the Táin Bó Regamna). You would think if she really loved him she'd show up as her Goddess-y self and offer that. Secondly she's showing up at a point where he's already refused one king's daughter (Ailill and Medb's) and is filthy and starving. There's really nothing going on there to make anyone feel romantic. He tells her he's in a bad way and not in a position to meet a woman; she replies that she will help him; and he says he isn't guarding the ford to earn a woman's arse. At which point she threatens him. Now if she was actually in love with him, as a goddess of battle, wouldn't she be pleased that he was putting honor and duty before pleasure? On the other hand if the whole point was to trick him or anger him she certainly achieves that.** She's also shown in her previous encounter with him in the Táin Bó Regamna that she' quite willing to lie to him as well as annoy the crap out of him, so this has much more of the feel of that to it than of any genuine profession of emotion. 
- The Morrigan offered Cu Chulainn sovereignty and he refused it/she denied it to him because he refused her:  Again from the same king's daughter story in the Táin Bó Cuiligne. Let's be clear - she never offers him sovereignty. She also never offers to have sex with him, although that is implied by his responses. What she actually says is that she has fallen in love with him because of his fame and that she has brought her treasures and her cattle. Nothing about making him a king or anything like that. Could someone argue it's implied? Perhaps, however Cu Chulainn was not a candidate for kingship which the Morrigan would have known. According to the Lebor Gabala Erenn it was Cu Chulainn who broke the Lia Fal*** because it did not cry out under him or his foster son. And when the stone that cries out under the next king, the stone that is an Otherworldly treasure, is silent under someone they are really, really not sovereign material. I'd also quickly point out that when Irish Goddesses show up as Sovereignty to offer kingship to people they generally do so disguised as withered old hags asking for a kiss or sex, to test the person's fitness to rule, not as gorgeous princesses offering their possessions. 
- the Morrigan and Cu Chulainn had sex/had a child: definitely not in the existing mythology.

So that's just touching on a handful of the most common bits of misinformation or errors that I tend to see. There are sure to be more, of course, but I hope this helped to clear some things up for people. 

* For example in the vocative case, but that doesn't apply in the vast majority of cases where I've seen people using this spelling in English
**there's also been some supposition by scholars that this entire scene was added later to explain her coming at him in three animal forms in the next scene, for those unfamiliar with her promise to do so in the Tain Bo Regamna. It is certainly odd that she threatens to do so in the TBR, then appears as Buan's daughter in the TBC only to make the exact same threat again, however this would make sense if it were a case of scribes duplicating a scene or trying to re-explain something, or even integrating material from a different oral source (all things that aren't uncommon).  ***after it didn't cry out under him Cu Chulainn struck the stone and it has remained silent ever since. 

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Cáca Síofra - a Recipe from a Dream

Dreams - aislingí - are sometimes a way that I receive communication from spirits and the Good People, as are other more controlled means like journeywork. This would fall into the realm of what's usually called 'upg' or unverified personal gnosis in modern paganism. I have found a lot of value in the lessons and messages I get this way, but generally I find these things are too personal too share. Not always though. What follows is something I was explicitly told to share, for anyone else who might want to use it as well. 

I had a dream last night and in the dream I was shown how to make little offering cakes for the Daoine Eile. In the dream I was shown how to make them for the most part and the only thing I was told in words was the oat flour and the name of the cakes, so I'm guessing on the temperature and timing. If you try making them keep that in mind and adjust as necessary. Also I don't bake (or cook particularly well) so bare with my terrible attempt to convey how to do this from what I saw in the dream. They didn't look like modern cakes but were more dense and flat.

Cáca Síofra

3 eggs
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup oat flour

Stir up eggs until blended then add in honey, then slowly add flour. Pour into buttered or greased cake pan or divide into several smaller ramekins*. Cook at about 350 degrees F (176 C) for about 35 - 40 minutes for cake, 30 minutes for larger ramekin, 20 minutes for smaller. Take out of oven when the center seem done. Drizzle more honey on the top when cooled.

I'd mentioned this on my social media this morning and several people who actually can cook have suggested cooking them on a griddle like pancakes. I'm tried both ways, and am reporting the results below.

I tried them as griddle cakes and as little cakes in 2 sizes of ramekins. The batter is slightly thinner than a box cake mix (which is my usual go-to for baking) and seems runny but it cooks well. 
On the griddle they need to be cooked at a lower temp than normal pancakes would or they burn. I found that a medium low worked well after some experimenting.They cook very quickly.
In really small ramekins they only need 20 minutes in the oven at 350. In the slightly larger size (which was the size I saw in the dream) it was 30 minutes.

After cooking them I tried some to make sure they were fit to offer. Without honey they are ridiculously delicious. With honey on top they are too sweet for me, but that was how I saw them so that was how I made them to offer. Obviously my preference isn't the issue for offering cakes, but I did verify that they are edible, and in fact really good. They are also nice and simple to prepare, although they take a lot of honey. 

I'll be making these for offerings to the Daoine Eile on holy days from now on I think.

*I didn't know what these were, but I was looking for smaller cake pans and stumbled across them in the grocery store and they were the closest in size to what I had seen. I should also add here that I wouldn't recommend cooking these on or in anything made of iron. 

Thursday, April 13, 2017

The Power of Names

There is a lot of power in names and naming, so today I want to look at the way we see that played out in mythology and folklore. I thought this would be a good topic to discuss in particular because of the confusion I sometimes see around the idea of True Names and magical names within modern paganism. So let's look at what True Names and magical names are, and the difference between them, with some examples from mythology and folklore.

A True Name is the name that resonates with a being's soul or otherwise identifies that being on the deepest level. This is not necessarily the name you are given by your parents at birth, although we'll look at the power that your birth name can have later. Your True Name is a deeper metaphysical thing, something that you may or may not ever find if you are human, and something that you guard as more precious than your life. Knowing a being's True Name gives you power over that being and allows you a level of control of them. In the Cath Maige Tuired we see this when the Dagda encounters a Fomorian princess who demands he carry her on his back; he refuses until after asking him his name three times* he is forced to reveal his True Name, and knowing it she repeats the request using it and he is forced to comply. In the familiar story of Rumplestilskin we see knowledge of a True Name as the only way for a woman to get out of a contract she has made with a dwarf. This motif and variations of it are found throughout Europe, with either the firstborn child or the woman herself as the agreed upon pay for the Otherworldly being unless the Name can be discovered. Knowing a True Name means knowing the true nature of a being which allows that being to be commanded against their will, and this is exactly why knowledge of a True Name was hidden.

As I mentioned, your birth name does also have power over you. Perhaps anyone who has ever experienced an angry parent yelling their full name at them is already aware of this. Seriously though, even though your birth name is something given to you by others it has the power of blood and kinship bound up in it, and it is tied to your soul all the same, although not as strongly as your True Name. In most folklore it was understood as unwise to give your name to Otherworldly beings, because knowledge of your birth name gave them knowledge of you to some degree. We see examples of this in stories such as 'Maggy Moulach' where a fairy (in that case a Brownie) futily loves a mortal; when he had asked her name, she told him it was 'Me Myself'. The young woman eventually is forced to throw boiling water on the amorous fairy, mortally wounding him, and when he was later asked who had harmed him he answered 'Me Myself' preventing his mother from seeking revenge against the girl. Names have power, even the ones our parents have given us.

As adults we can choose our own names. We can assume nicknames, or we can even (in most countries as far as I know) legally change our names. There is a long and deep seated tradition of adults changing names to shed the name they were given at birth and assume a new name as an adult, usually to better reflect who the person was. We see this in mythology with Setanta becoming Cu Chulainn; Gwion Bach becoming Taleisin; Deimne becoming Fionn Mac Cumhaill. There is power in naming ourselves, but we should choose wisely as well, because just like birth names the names we give ourselves hold power over us and create connections. Cu Chulainn taking his name also meant taking a gies against eating dog meat, and it his fate was bound up in that taboo.

It is from the power that your name has, I believe, that we see magical names coming in, particularly in ceremonial magic. A magical name was originally meant as a pseudonym, a way to keep your identity hidden from spirits and likely to act as a layer of magical defense from unfriendly people, witches and non-witches. Or perhaps we might say more aptly it was used to create a specific alternate identity for dealing with them. Magical names, like any good persona, were about creating an ideal image for the self, rather than a true reflection of the self. So, for example someone's True Name might be Echaire [horse-keeper] but they may take a magical name that is much grander and more impressive sounding like 'Storm Raven' or 'Ocean Rider'. People also often use the names of deities, mythic heroes, famous magicians of the past, and powerful animals for their magical names. Magical names did build power with use, but could also be shed and remade as needed. Think of them a bit like clothes or armor. Even with this though there was historically usually a layer of secrecy between a person's magical name and real name, an attempt to keep the two separate and distinct, so that in ritual or with fellow practitioners no other name would be used except the magical, and outside of those contexts no name except the birth name would be used.

At some point in the modern era I think the ideas of True Names and magical names were confused somehow, so that people began to think that a magical name was supposed to be a true reflection of self rather than a projection of power and confidence. From this we start to see two things happening, firstly magical names that are intended to reflect as much of a person's soul as possible, and secondly the public use of magical names in non-magical contexts. Or basically the entire concept of magical names became less about esoteric spirit work naming and more of a tribal assuming-a-new-name-with-a-new-community process. One is not better or worse than the other, but they need to be understood as distinctly different things. A public name that you use because you feel it fits you better than the one your parents gave you, isn't a magical name. And it isn't your true name either, or I hope it isn't if your sharing it around so publicly.

Names have power. We can take control of that power by choosing what we want people to call us, by naming ourselves. Even assuming a nickname is an act of power. We can use magical names. We can even seek, and sometimes find, our True Name But we shouldn't forget the lessons that mythology and fairy tales have taught us about the value of the power of the names and the need to guard the names that mean the most to us. Not all names are meant to be shared.

* there is also significance to the repetition of the number three, and of asking a question three times.