Traveling to Wisdom

Traveling to Wisdom

"I travelled over the earth
Before I became learned person.
I have travelled, I have made a circuit,
I have slept in a hundred islands, dwelt
in a hundred cities."
___ Taliesin, "Cad Goddeu" (trans CM)


    The Welsh poet Taliesin speaks here of his spiritual peregrinations - not only his physical travels but also his soul's circuit before it became
incarnated in its present form. The way to spiritual maturity is through personal and interactive experience. We travel to wisdom along the roads that our soul is drawn to explore, eventually evolving a map that we being to understand. Even within formal religions this journey must take place; otherwise, spiritual stasis sets in.
    In the old language of craftspeople, there are three aspects to the spiritual path: first we are the apprentice, painstakingly learning the basics of our craft; then we become journeymen, trained apprentices who are able to travel from place to place practicing our craft; finally we become masters of our craft and are honored as repositories of skill. Our journey to wisdom, to a mature spirit, must go through all three phases. And even when we have arrived spiritually, we face the devastating revelation that the spiritual path is just that - a path, not a destination.
    This is a lonely realization for many, yet we are not unaccompanied on our path. Upon it we encounter others who are traveling our way, some of whom will become close personal friends because they are spiritual kindred. These encounters and spiritual friendships mold our understandings as soul calls to soul, bringing new insights and concepts. By working with such friends, we realize the validity of our journey, we absorb new concepts that modify our own. we become more practical and less theoretical, and we change and grow in spirit.

"Draw an overview map of your own spiritual progress, noting significant features and encounters that have helped mature your soul."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

Lord of Misrule

Lord of Misrule

"Now, now the mirth comes
With the cake full of plums,
Where Beane's the King of the sport here;
Besides we must know,
The Pea also
Must revell, as Queene, in the Court here."
   ___ Robert Herrick, "Twelth Night"


   The Lord of Misrule governed the celebrations of this January day. He was appointed from the company by drawing the slice of cake with the bean in it and would devise games and forfeits for the company.
   The Lord of Misrule governs in the holidays that are outside temporal time, when misrule (or disorder), revelry, and games take the place of order, sobriety, and work. The function of misrule is the mixing up of one reality with another. Within the resultant confusion, we enter the clown's world wherein the proud are humbled, the usual becomes the unusual, the tight-lipped are made to laugh, and the tight-fisted are made to pay up. Societies that do not have the safety valve of seasonal misrule become monolithic, dour, and life-denying.
    Lords and Ladies of Misrule are supreme magicians who bring good cheer through a healthy mockery of institutions, both loved and hated. The ability to laugh at what we hold dear is not disrespectful: if we cannot take a joke about precious things, we do not share the divine sense of humor that rules the universe and is probably responsible for life itself.  The opportunity to laugh at what we fear is god-given, since it releases us from the shackles of fear itself and lessens fear's powerful hold over us.
    The ones who govern the Court of Misrule are truly mediators of freedom, to whom we owe considerable respect and not a few custard pies!

"Overturn your usual customs. Do something uncharacteristic. By no means do any meditations today! Find your own freedom instead."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The People of the Gift

The People of the Gift

"Give humble respect to each of the wise people of the gift,
for honor is due to them."
    ___"The Book of the O'Connor Don," Irish text (trans CM)


   In Celtic society, the people of the gift - the aos dana (EES DAH'ma), or artists - were given the kind of respect that we now accord to great religious leaders, political leaders, actors, and singers. They were honored because they had the power to go beyond this world, to commune with otherworldly powers and to meditate their inspiration to the community. Respect was given because they represented the unseen reality to our world in a process of meditation.
    In our society, the ability to convey sacred reality to living forms has become the preserve of the religious painter, poet, or performer, and only in the highest forms of aesthetic appreciation do we see a comparable attempt to convey the beautiful and simple truths of the sacred. Only when performers and artists come close to the heart of the mystery of their craft do they feel the impinging power of the sacred . Those whom we universally regard as especially gifted, because of their ability to convey something beyond the music, the script, or whatever art form corresponds to their skill, have humility and regard for their sacred art. But today the respect that is due to the gift is often accorded solely to the artist and appropriated by her as a personal honor.
   People of gifted vision are generally unable to live by their art because so few people are able to apprehend and receive the gift. It is not a question of money but of our interest in and involvement with the gift, with the art itself. This alone creates a climate wherein the gift of the otherworld can be received and welcomed, and true respect for the people of the gift can flourish once again.

"Meditate upon your personal relationship with sacred gifts of art, music, performance. Your respect changes everything."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

Restoring the Enchantment

Restoring the Enchantment

"Without the enchantments to kindle the beckoning flame of mystery, and wonder, we lose touch with the on-going story of the soul."
  ___ Caitlin and John Matthews "The Little
Book of Celtic Wisdom"

   The ancient bards of Britain maintained 'perpetual choirs of song' that kept the land harmoniously connected and whole. As long as there was one voice, the land and its inhabitants remained within the enchantment. We now think of enchantment as a malign magical spell, but the original meaning of 'to enchant' was 'to infuse with song' which is what the ancient choirs of once did, maintaining the interconnection between the world and the otherworld. When awareness of this sacred link is severed, we lost the enchantment and fall into a sorry condition of disconnection.
    Disenchantment happens to us all, taking the familiar forms of depressive illness, addictive behavior  and malaise from which there seems no escape. It is important to act quickly when these states begin to set in, to realize that our soul's story is out of phase with its sacred connection.
    How can the soul or the world be re-enchanted once it has lost the enchantment? Only by returning to the story of the soul and retelling it up to the point of fracture; only by placing our own story within the context of the greater song. When Myrddin (MER'thyn), now known as Merlin, is exposed to the carnage of battle, he runs mad through the forest. Many try to calm him and bring him back to society but only when the Welsh poet Taliesin (Tal-ee-ESS'in) comes and sits with him does Myrddin respond, asking the odd question "Why do we have weather?" This seemingly trivial query is all that Taliesin needs to help his friend. He begins to recite the creation of the world. At the end of Taliesin's recital, Myrddin is restored as the sacred context of his story is given back to him.

"Consider the enchantment that keeps your soul's story on track."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The Pledge of Passion

The Pledge of Passion

"And Findbair used to lay her hand on every goblet and
every cup for Ferdiad, because he was her beloved and
chosen wooer."
    ___'Tain Bo Cuailgne', early Irish text


   The ancient Celtic and Germanic worlds shared the custom of pledging the cup of hospitality to guests. The woman of the house would greet the leader of a company with the guest cup. In certain circumstances, eligible women took the opportunity presented by this hospitable action to check out the guests. Findabair (FIN'a-ba), the daughter of Queen Maeve of Connacht, who was besotted with the hero Ferdiad, evidently took every opportunity to be close to him, using the old custom of hospitality to welcome him home from combat. It is clear that the offering of the guest cup could be an erotic invitation that might, or might not, lead to marriage.
    Over the pledged cup, alcohol and sexual desire created their own ferment of intoxication, overflowing mundane barriers of reserve and opening up the gateway to intimate encounter. In similar fashion, it is common today for future partners to meet each other over the holiday season at parties and gatherings.
    The love that is pledged at this time is whirlwind and generally physical and nonverbal. There is a kind of ritual alchemy of attraction at work that is intensified within the ceremonial cup of the season. And though this may not be the rational and considered love of other seasons, its passion carried a forceful truth that fixes the unspoken pledge at a deep level of promise.
    The pledging of passion is not the preserve of the young alone; passion can arise at any age, in any circumstance, when we least expect it. No one is immune to the kindling sparks of passion that burn at certain meetings.

"Pledge your passion to your beloved and welcome ecstasy back into your relationship."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The Meaning Beneath the Meaning

The Meaning Beneath the Meaning

"The journey we begin as we answer the call is long,
and filled with all that we have been and all that
we will become."
   ___Cairstiona Worthington, Modron of the Order
      of Bards, Ovates and Druids


   Our spiritual journey leads us through many stations of experience. We feel the need to travel in company with others: we join churches, courses, movements, and groups, learning all that we can from their leaders and exponents. Sometimes sharing the journey is helpful and supportive to our unique spiritual call; other times it is very dissatisfying, causing us to give up and continue our journey elsewhere. This period of spiritual nomadism can be lengthy, as we move from place to place, from religious movement to spiritual group, in search of the meaning beneath meaning.
    It is good to realize early on that whatever is spiritually important to us must be identified and made use of, not discarded later in the journey because it does not 'fit' our current spiritual practice. It is in the experiences that we have along our way that our spirituality grows, and matures. Dancing, catching leaves, meditating in the bath, praying while singing, walking in the countryside - all these are ways to honor Spirit.
    In order to live our spiritual path, we cannot leave out any part of ourselves or our experience: every single bit of who we are and what we do has to be included. It is in recognizing the mystic we always were rather than in mimicking the pious practices of our faith that we discover the meaning beneath the meaning which has always been calling us.

"What cause you to be aware of the meaning beneath the meaning? Begin to incorporate your own innate spiritual responses into your daily practice."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The New Year

The New Year

"Wind from the West, fish and bread,
Wind from the North, cold and flaying,
Wind from the East, snow on the hills,
Wind from the South, fruit on trees."
   Scots new year weather omen


    New Year's Day is a time of reading omens for a fresh beginning. It is widely held that the first twelve days of the year will reveal the disposition of the weather for the year ahead. This is a good day to go for a long walk, to divine the possibilities of the year ahead in a very simple way.
   Before you set off on your walk, stop and and tune your intentions to the unfolding year ahead; sense the pathway of the year that stands about you, including the mythscape, story folklore, and feeling of the land. Keeping the year ahead to your consciousness, allow your attention to widen to include everything about you. If you come across something that draws your attention with urgent filaments of greeting -  it might be the  sudden movement of a bird, the beauty of a patch of moss, the intensity of the light through the trees - stop and be attentive to what caught your attention.
    Listen and attend to the greeting, and intuitively reach out for and feel its meaning - a meaning that might not be experienced in words or even in sound but may come to you as a subtle understanding. Appreciate it, note it, and then pass on. Keep repeating this throughout your walks until you have had twelve such experiences. Each time stop, attend and intuit (with fishing for a rational explanation) why
your attention has been engaged. Then return home and review the omens in the order you experienced them, relating them successively to the months of the year. Next New Year's Eve you can check your findings.

"Take a walk as suggested above."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

January sees the growing of the cold. This month's meditation themes include the soul's circuit, beginnings and approaches, the gifts of youth, mediators, mutual care and separateness, and clarity.

Month of January - smoky is the vale;
Weary the wine bearer; strolling the minstrel;
Lean the cow; seldom the hum of the bee.
    anon Welsh poem