In the House of Darkness

In the House of Darkness

"The poets shut their doors and windows for a day's time, and lie

on their backs with a stone upon their belly, and plaids about their

heads, and their eyes being covered they pump their brains for

rhetorical encomium or panegyric."

   ___ Martin Martin, "Description of the Western Islands of Scotland," in

   John and Caitlin Matthews, "The Encyclopedia of Celtic Wisdom."

   The seventeenth-century traveler Martin Martin toured the west coast of Scotland and reported on the training used in the last of the bardic schools, whose methods of composition had not varied from earliest Celtic times. Students given subjects of composition would go to the House of Darkness: a long, low hut divided into cubicles devoid of light, in which the students lay upon couches alone and worked on each poem in darkness. At nightfall, lights were brought in and the students recited their compositions to their masters before going to their evening meal.

  What is the meaning of this desire for darkness? Inspiration was able to spark more brightly, leading the poet's mind from metaphor to metaphor with a greater assurance. For the one who lay upon the 'bed of reclining,' there was no opportunity to make notes; words were written first upon the memory. There is a more ancient reason also: the early druidic and poetic method of incubating knowledge out of sleep and darkness drew upon the fact that the ever-living otherworld is visitable in dream and inspired soul-flight. This is not a daytime experience, however, but one possible only when it is dark (so that the subtle senses are able to work). Darkness, which so many shun as synonymous with evil is actually an opportunity in which we can respect our subtle senses and give rest to our physical ones. In the darkness shines the greatest light of all: the three sparks of inspiration that run like fire through charcoal and illuminate our own being.

"Choose a subject to meditate upon without light this evening."

[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]



The Air We Breathe

The Air We Breathe

"World-mothering air, air wild,
Wound with thee, in thee isled,
Fast home, fast fold thy child."
    __ Gerald Manley Hopkins, "The Blessed Virgin
  Compared to the Air We Breathe"


   The breath of life has always had a special, sacred meaning for people worldwide, since it is the mark of mortality. The first and last breaths are marked with particular attention: as air is drawn into a baby's lungs for the first time, the soul is considered to be truly incarnate; as the death rattle heralds the last exhalation of air, we know that the soul is unhoused, free to return to the unseen world. Our continual breathing in and out is a reminder of these two moments wherein we are recreated anew.
   The air that we take for granted is now polluted by industrial production, petroleum fumes, and other unpleasant exhalations. The immensity of this desecration of our atmosphere leaves us feeling powerless, since its cure depends on the whole world cooperatively using wiser strategies to protect the environment from damage. It may mean using our cars less, or switching off the motor when we are waiting; it may involve us in influencing governments and industries to use environmental-friendly solutions, remembering that politicians are in power because they represent the people. But the task that we can each engage  in on a daily basis is a respectful acknowledgment of the sacred breathe of life. The Irish expression for taking one's time translates literally as 'drawing one's breath.' If we make it our practice to spend a short time each day remembering the holy element of air, we restore the original blessedness with our prayerful in-and-out breathing: "Blessed be the precious and preserving air that sustains our life!" 

Meditate upon the air as you draw it into your lungs ad then exhale. Be aware of the whole atmosphere of the earth breathing."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

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 his neighbor's. The Celtic peoples had their charms against the evil eye - or 'overlooking,' as it was often know. The herding charm above is concerned not only with the envy of neighbors or strangers, but also with the retribution of the bean si (BAN SHE), or 'the fairy 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,k 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 skills. Good-natured people of special skill 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 Morrighan's Signs of the Times

The Morrighan's Signs of the Times

"Summer without flowers,
Cows without milk,
women without modesty,
men without courage....."
   Second Battle of Mag Tuiread, early Irish text

   The current signs of the times are there to be read by anyone with an ounce of perception. We notice signs of decay and disorder, thoughtlessness toward the environment, urban chaos and breakdown, famine, and senseless wars. To the Irish Goddess, the Morrighan - a being who often takes the form of a raven overflying the field of carnage - these are all areas of potential scavenging out of which new energy can be born. In her creative aspect, she is one of the holy ones who gave birth to mountains and rivers in her ecstatic union with Dagda, the God of Virile Knowledge. Like the Hindu Goddess Kali, the Morrighan acts as challenger and remembrance of the totality of time: she bids us look not only at the end times but also what leads up to them. By allowing the Morrighan into our lives, we value each living being for itself, enabling it to find its own place, to see the interrelationships between all life forms.
   The Morrighan keeps her ancient place and role in our society, however much we try to deny her. She speaks the end; she utters the beginning; she announces the victory and defeat of our life's struggles. With her far-seeing eye, she comprehends the germination of the acorn and the felling of the oak.

"What is ending in your life? What is struggling to be born?What is growing and how can you help it to grow?"
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

Spiritual Nomadism

Spiritual Nomadism

"The Holy One is near to all who call:
we have no need to cross the sea to
find God(dess)."
   ___ saying of St. Samthann (trans. CM)


    Spiritual nomadism is a phase that everyone goes through at some time. It appeals to us at those times when everything in our spiritual practice seems barren and stale. At those times, we seek the stimulus of fresh fields and foreign shores; we want out, now! This may take our steps into other fields of spirituality where we can graze at will, tasting and appreciating the differences, taking what is useful for us at one spiritual oasis before wandering on to the next. This phase can take many forms, and it can strike at any time, especially if we have lived many forms, and it can strike at any time, especially if we have lived within the strict restraints of a religious upbringing; it is not undergone only by the young and unsettled.
   Our wandering often brings us to a fresh appreciation of our own spirituality; from a different perspective, we can see what we have been missing or how we can practice in more intentional ways. When spiritual nomadism goes unchecked, however, we do not learn from what we wander through; we begin to fall into a kind of spiritual tourism wherein we travel too fast and too frequently to learn anything.
   In whatever place we find ourselves, we must make sure that our spiritual path is under our feet. It may spiral wildly or meader across different kinds of terrain, but it will bring us to the place just right if we engage continually with Spirit. We cannot separate ourselves from inclusion in the sacred, whatever we do and wherever we go.

"What useful and encourage factors have you gained from your spiritual nomadism? What do you look for in your spiritual expression and practice that is not currently officially on offer? It may be that your spiritual practice has no name or label, but it is still a valid path to Spirit."
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The Continuity of Society

The Continuity of Society

"Society is a partnership not only between those who are living but between those who are living, those who are dead and those who are to be born."
   ___ Edmund Burke

   At every moment, several generations are simultaneously alive: those just born; children and students; young, middle-aged, and elderly adults, those about to die. As the older generation dies, new opinions and customs replace the old ones. But at one time, there are simultaneously many different generational viewpoints jostling together for attention. The sense of society as a partnership is not always apparent to us as we pass through life. The way to reconnect our society is to keep before us the partnership between those now living and our ancestors and our descendants.
   The ancestral viewpoint is formative to the way society subtly changes over the generations. It helps codify the protocols, procedures, and customs that the present establishment upholds; it also forms a norm against which reactionary and reforming spirits can rebel. These two notions of conformity and rebellion, like two intertwining shoots about sapling, define the growth of the trunk. The influence of our descendants is a more subtle one. We need inheritors to guard what we have established, but we cannot entirely dictate and mold them to our desires. Our descendants will modify and change what we leave them. The continuity of society is woven from many generational needs and influences. Only when we stand at the hub of time, as ancestor, self, and descendant concurrently do we become fully aware of the contract that our partnership involves.

"What are the terms of your contract with the partnership of society? Do these change as you consider them from the standpoint of ancestor, self, and descendant?"
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]

The Fruit of the Otherworld

The Fruit of the Otherworld

"Every high and lonely thought that thrills my spirit through
Is but a shining berry dropped down through the purple air,
And from the magic tree of life the fruit falls everywhere."
    ___A. E. (George Russell) "Connla's Well"

   Over Connla's Well grow the nine hazelnut trees of wisdom that drop their nuts into th water. The salmon of knowledge eats of the nuts and is found by Fionn mac Cunhail
(FNN mak KOOL), who, like Taliesin (Tal-eeEssom), becomes omniscient. This experience changes the very nature of perception, retuning the ordinary senses to perceive in more subtle ways.
   This story, in its various permutations, stands as an explanation of how the fruit of the otherworld comes to ripen in our world. The fall of the hazelnuts into the waters of Connla's Well is an image of the abundant generosity of the otherworld to our world. The ideas that come to us in moments of inspiration arrive in our heads so instantaneously that we may be tempted to give credit for their arrival to ourselves. The generosity of inspiration is frequently seen percolating throughout the world. When the nuts of the nine hazel fall into our world, they fall in many places simultaneously, ensuring that the fruiting wisdom will germinate in at least one location in our world. This explains the seemingly coincidental discovery of inventions or the realization of ideas in several places at the same time: the same idea is in the air, ready to be pulled out of the ether. Only the most promising, dedicated, and attentive become the stock upon which the otherworldly fruit is grafted, for the benefit of all.

"Give thanks for the fruits of the otherworld that you have received and help ripen. Be aware where the nuts of wisdom are falling into your lap; run with the inspiration!"
[From: "The Celtic Spirit" by Caitlin Matthews]