Envy

Envy

"From the swift arrows of the slender banshee,
From the envious heart and the eye of evil,
May the herd be encircled!"
    --- Scots Gaelic herding charm (trans CM)


   In many lands, envy is known as 'the evil eye,' whereby someone looks possessively or jealously at something of this neighbor's. The Celtic peoples had their charms against the evil eye - or 'overlooking' as it was often known. The herding charm above is concerned not only with the envy of the neighbors or strangers, but also with the retribution of the bean si (BAN SHE), or 'the faery woman.' Because the Celtic world did not see itself as separate from the otherworld, faery and spirit inhabitants might also be considered sources of envy. It is for this reason that many people, then and now, put out offerings for the faerykind, that they might share our resources, feel included, and consider us to be good neighbors.

  When we envy today, our eyes and desires are led from our own sphere into that of others, we subtly penetrate the boundaries of other people and commit an intentional theft - not by physically stealing something away, of course, but by undermining another person's essential soul. Envy is not seen as dangerous in our society; indeed, advertising companies do business by inculcating envious yearnings everywhere, vaunting beautiful people with lovely possessions, well-appointed houses, and brilliant skils. Good-natured people of special skills and abilities are often devastated to learn how little their friends think of them, horrified to realize how envied they are. Let us appreciate and admire, by all means, but every time envy surges up within us, let us call back the impulse to possess.

"Make your own prayer against the kinds of envy most often directed against you. Meditate upon the brand of envy that arises within you and pay closer attention to what it indicates about you."
[From:"The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

THE INNER CAULDRON FOR SEPTEMBER

Transformation

   All art involves transformation, and to create art, we ourselves must be transformed. Even if we do not think of ourselves as artists in the usual sense of the word, conscious living is a creative act in which every day is our canvas to paint, our metal forge, our song to craft. "The Birth of Taliesin" teaches us about transformation. On one level Gwion (the 'shinning' one) represents the sun, which is 'swallowed up' by the lengthening night as winter approaches. He emerges from the sea just as the 'shinning brow' of the sun arises at Beltaine, the first day of summer. On the inner level Gwion represents our essence, which is often portrayed as a shinning light. As the Earth orbits the sun, so does our personality self turn toward the light at the center of our being.

  Gwion's death and rebirth as a poet seer is reminiscent of the initiation rites within the mystery schools of late antiquity where the candidate descended into the realm of the souls of the dead and giver of new life. Her two children, who represent the darkness and light of the world, suggest that Ceridwen is a Welsh aspect of the Great Goddess. Her cauldron, her womb, and the ocean are all vessels of regeneration out of which the peasant boy emerges as Taliesin, bard and seer. The fisherman who discovers him does indeed land a fish. Little Gwion has been reborn as the all-knowing creature of the Otherworld  --- the Salmon of Wisdom.

  Often our own lives become transformed by unexpected events, as Gwion's was when he ingested the magical drops by accident. That is when Ceridwen, keeper of the cauldron of changes, begins to hunt us down, forcing us to be fluid, to adapt, to shapeshift into new roles that challenge our ideas of who we are. A marriage ends, we lose our job --- whatever hook we have hung our identity on is suddenly snatched away --- and, like Gwion, we are plunged into the womb of the Goddess to be remade.

   A woman who works with victims of domestic violence says of this process in her life:

"For Ceridwen I have tried many forms -- not all necessarily

ones that I thought I wanted, not always necessarily ones she was

going to allow me to stay in. She has turned her face away

at times others might have thought I was most vulnerable

-- like the babe upon the ocean -- but in the end the outcome

has always been that I am so much more, with so much

more left to become -- even though I am not quite

yet the Taliesin I might be!"