Travelling the Fairy Path
288
Travelling the Fairy Path
288eBook
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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781785357534 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Collective Ink |
| Publication date: | 09/28/2018 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 288 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
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CHAPTER 1
Stepping onto the Path, or How I Got Here
To see mad Tom of Bedlam
We all have a different story about how we found our way to the Fairy path, some of them straightforward, others long and winding. Just as the path itself is something that is unique to each person walking it, so too our stories about how we got here and our lives within this spirituality will be different from one person to the next. To begin this book I want to talk a little bit about my own background and how I got to the point I'm at today, which is certainly not a place I ever anticipated being. If a bit of autobiographical material bores you, feel free to skip to Chapter 2; if on the other hand you're curious about why I'm writing this book or what my qualifications are to write this – if you want to know whether I'm a worthy guide for you on your own journey – then this may interest you.
I have seen and interacted with spirits and Otherworldly beings for as long as I can remember and have been pagan since I was around 11 years old. Unlike most of my peers I wasn't raised Christian. I tend to say I was raised a secular agnostic because that sums it up fairly well. We celebrated all the main American holidays but without any religious overtones – Christmas was when Santa came in his reindeer- pulled sleigh to magically bring us presents and Easter was when a bunny brought us baskets of candy. I include the agnostic part because there was no firm disbelief, but neither was there any clear structure within any particular faith. We grew up hearing stories about our family's history and culture mostly Irish-American and New England with all the folklore and belief that came with that. I spent a lot of time outdoors in nature, connecting to the wild world. I also had the added personal quirk of seeing spirits, something that (luckily for me) my family humoured for the most part. I built little houses for the fairies and left them notes on my windowsill for as long as I could remember. But actual formal religion, there wasn't any.
I was always a spiritual seeker, maybe because I saw things other people didn't. At various points I was curious about different religions, attending church services with my friends, reading about Judaism, I even read up on Mennonites and the Amish. Nothing ever quite fit though. And then when I was in middle school (the early 1990s) one of my best friends introduced me to a book by Scott Cunningham called Wicca: a Guide for the Solitary Practitioner. For the first time I was reading about a religion – witchcraft and paganism – that made perfect sense to me. Gods and Goddesses, spirits, magic, these all resonated with me and fit into the world, spirits inclusive, that I already knew existed. I was mad for Irish culture at that point so it wasn't much effort to add in Irish mythology to everything else and begin reading about the Irish Gods.
I went to the library and found a few other books, and used my babysitting money to buy a couple more and I read what I could get my hands on at the time: Buckland's Complete Book of Witchcraft, Sybil Leek's Diary of a Witch, Laurie Cabot's Power of the Witch. Although my friend quickly lost interest and went back to Catholicism, I was enamoured with pagan witchcraft. At the advanced age of 12 I decided to perform a self-dedication ritual, out in the cold on Imbolc. Because at 12, I was certain that this was the most amazing religion ever.
Of course, within a few years, by the mid 90s, I'd started to focus more on what I'd later learn was called Celtic Reconstructionism and by 1997 I'd joined a CR Druid group called the Order of the White Oak. In 2001 I joined another Druid group, Ar nDraoicht Fein, and in 2006 I joined Our Troth after I began studying Heathenry/Asatru. I had long since stopped considering myself Wiccan but I never stopped practising witchcraft and throughout it all the Good People – by any name – were the bedrock of my belief system and practice. The Fairy Faith – the belief in the Hidden People and the practices that went with those beliefs – had always been a core of my life and became the thread that bound my religious interests together. From one perspective it might be called an Creideamh Sí, from a Norse perspective I might label it Álfatrú, but by any name it was essentially the same, a spirituality that hinged on respecting and offering to the Hidden People.
I remained a dual-trad person, both an American reconstructionist Irish polytheist and a Heathen but I also began to see that over the years I had developed my own type of witchcraft, my own flavour if you will, based on and built from my fairy beliefs. So, in 2013 I wrote a book Pagan Portals Fairy Witchcraft which would be published the following year that described my witchcraft and my belief system, formed from a lifetime of experience and woven from the Fairy Faith and a reconstructionist approach to working with the Other Crowd. That of course led to another book, Fairycraft, and another, Fairies: A Guide to the Celtic Fair Folk. I felt compelled to write these things to share what I was doing, but also because I feel like Themselves have something to say.
I was content with my spirituality as it was. My spirituality was complex, woven from multiple cultural threads, but it was cohesive because of the Fairy Faith and witchcraft practices. I saw myself and my place in the grand scheme of things laid out pretty much in that context. I had taught my first public class at a Pagan Pride event in 2000, a workshop about fairies (aptly enough) and now I do what I can to write about the older folk beliefs and practices and to show people one way that those beliefs and practices can be preserved and blended into modern paganism. But for all that I still saw myself firmly as a polytheist focused primarily on the Gods and on doing their work in this world. Like many people I don't like change very much. If you'd asked me a year ago where I expected to be at this point I'd have said probably in about the same place, spiritually speaking. The spirits, of course, often have other plans for us.
Although as I've just discussed, the Good People (fairies) where always a main aspect of my spirituality; I considered myself devoted to the Gods I honoured and was formally dedicated to two in particular who I served as a priestess. I was a Celtic Reconstructionist, a Druid (although I have since stopped using that term), a witch, and these were more than enough to keep me occupied as I tried to balance my Irish paganism and Norse Heathenry, my dedication to Odin and my dedication to Macha. The daoine sí – and the huldufolk – were always a factor, and an important one, but I still saw them as only one portion of a complex spirituality.
And then I went to Ireland.
This was a first for me, the culmination of a lifelong dream to travel across the sea. I left for Ireland on October 25th, 2016 to help co- facilitate a Morrigan sacred sites tour. I was very excited, and had high expectations of connecting more deeply with the Morrigan, Badb, and Macha on their own sacred ground at places where their stories had taken place. The tour had been arranged by Land Sea Sky Travel and hit, in my opinion, all the major sites I'd want to have gone to from the well-known like Teamhair (Tara) to the more obscure like Boa Island. It was a wonderful opportunity to connect to the Morrigans and I hope, very sincerely, that it served that purpose for the people who went on the trip.
My own journey went sideways, as they say, almost immediately, and that's the story I'd like to tell here. Because its mine to tell and because parts of it I'm compelled to share publicly.
On a trip like this I honestly expected that the main focus would be on the Gods – the Morrigan, Badb, and Macha – and on connecting to the land itself in a broader sense; that the Good People, while obviously always a factor, would be a background consideration. It became clear almost immediately that this was not to be the case, and then increasingly obvious that everything altogether was shifting in ways I had not anticipated. But now I'm getting ahead of myself.
After a bit more than 24 hours of travel time we landed in Dublin, a day before the tour was to start. Me and my friend Melody, who was travelling with me, met up with my co-facilitator Stephanie Woodfield and her companion, and then Vyviane Armstrong of Land Sea Sky Travel. Since we had come in early, a group decision was reached to take the day and go down to Kildare; I was excited to see Brighid's Well (or wells as it turns out). The drive was lovely and I was struck the entire time by how much everything felt like home to me – not in a deep metaphysical sense exactly but in a literal, visceral way. It was actually disorienting; I don't travel much and I'm used to, when I do travel, feeling very much like I am somewhere foreign whether I'm in Florida or California or western New York. But that wasn't so in eastern Ireland, it all felt like I could easily still be home, and it was an odd feeling to be sure.
So we went to Kildare, to what I am told is Brighid's Well 'the old one' – of course there are many Brighid's Wells – but this one did feel powerful and special and I quite liked it. I won't say exactly what happened there, but I had a moving experience that was both odd and beautiful praying for my younger daughter who has several health issues. Then we went to the other well, the more well-known one with the big statue and nice shrine, and the sideways-ness began. Because as soon as we got near it, well it wasn't Brighid at all that I was aware of there but Themselves entirely. And that wasn't what I'd expected. It wasn't bad exactly, but it was strong, and obvious that I had their attention. All things being equal I dismissed it since things like that can happen – have happened to me – and I assumed it was the location and being in Ireland.
The second day we joined up with the people going on the tour, and a more excellent group no one could hope for. I could write paragraphs just about how wonderful they were, but just take it as a given from here out that they were the most amazing 15 people because their stories are their own though and I don't feel it's my place to speak of them, except where they touch on my tale here.
We got everyone together and we went to Knowth and Sid in Broga (Newgrange). I will confess that Sid in Broga itself underwhelmed me although I quite liked Knowth. That aside though for the second time in as many days I found that while I was aware of the presence of the Gods it was the aos sí that dominated my attention. We had had lunch at the centre's cafe and I had kept several of the wrapped pats of butter, stored in a plastic bag in my bag and as we roamed the grounds at Sid in Broga, while the others felt obligated to pour out offerings to the Gods, I found a tree near the boundary which was Theirs and made my own offering there, to the Other Crowd.
At the end of the day we went to the lovely cabins we were staying at for the first part of the trip. I found a post on the fence line, right in front of a small stream, across from our cabin and set about making offerings there; it would become a sort of impromptu altar for the time we were there and I would make butter and cream offerings there every morning. That night I ended up giving a spontaneous workshop on the Other Crowd, Good Manners, and How Not to Get Taken by the Fairies after one of our tour people went out walking and heard voices in the darkness calling him to join them (not human voices). Being he is a skilled musician I was fairly concerned by this and it became a running joke – of the seriously-thought variety – to make sure that person stayed among the mortal people.
When I went out the next morning to make an offering of cream there was a fairy ring in the grass in front of the post I was making the offerings at.
Have you ever had to go into a cabin full of people you either just met or possibly don't know well in person (my travelling companion excluded) and try to explain why the spot you've already mentioned as a place to make offerings to the Good Neighbours now has to be approached with care due to a fairy ring? It makes for interesting breakfast conversation.
The next day we went to Heapstown Cairn and then Cheathrú Chaol (Carrowkeel). Heapstown Cairn is associated with the well of Slaine and is a place with strong ties to the Tuatha Dé Danann, especially Airmed. We did our opening ritual there and it was a good solid ritual to the Morrigan. But if you're guessing that, just like before, I felt the presence of the Gods but was far more keenly aware of the Good People you are starting to see the same pattern I was catching on to, although at this point I was ignoring it. I was here to honour and connect to the Morrigans as a priestess of Macha and that was what I wanted to do. I was seeing this as a once in a lifetime opportunity for that connection, and while I did appreciate the feeling of intense association, I suppose you could say, with the aos sí that wasn't what I had intended the focus to be.
You know what they say about the best laid plans ...
Heapstown Cairn had a strong presence of the Other Crowd, both within it and in the little groves around it. I felt it and so did a few others in the group. It was an old feeling but quiet, contemplative. Cheathrú Chaol though – oh that place! I loved it from before I saw it. I loved it as we approached it and I saw the rising wall of hills. I loved it as soon as I set foot on the ground. We drove in and the mist came down like a wall, so that we hiked up to the cairns in a shroud of white. We arrived at the first cairn, cairn G, and I went no further – if I were to say I had arrived home anywhere in Ireland it was that place. It is sacred, deeply so I think, and it is very full of the Otherworld. I went in to the cairn and refused to come out again until I was genuinely afraid that Vyviane might have to come get me, and I wouldn't let that happen. I won't share my actual experience there, but I feel like I left a piece of myself behind, and I walked away with two Irish pennies and shell in exchange. It was a fair trade. When I die I am reasonably certain that a person looking for me would be wise to go to that place and seek my spirit out among the stones and heather.
The next day we went to Boa Island for a ritual to Badb in the cemetery where the two Janus stones are. That place is quite amazing all on its own, and the feeling of walking on the ancient dead is strange, but the energy overall is very peaceful. We chose to do the ritual under the cemetery's only tree, towards the back and I stood with my own back to it, just in front of a large white quartz stone thrusting up from the ground. The tree was being overtaken by ivy and honestly that was all I noticed before we started. This, dear readers, was a serious error on my part. So, we began and as we got to the part where there is a ritual meditation, and Stephanie began reading it while people relaxed and tranced out, I became keenly aware of a door opening behind me in the trunk of the tree. My eyes focused on the small branch hanging over my head and down in front of my face and it occurred to me, suddenly and simultaneously with the door appearing, that the tree was a hawthorn.
Sitting inside our warded space with a group of people mostly in open trance.
Oops.
Suffice to say I handled the situation and everything was fine, because we had a motto going on this tour of 'no crow left behind' (crow meaning tour participant) and I have a strong sense of duty to people I feel responsible for. I will not make that mistake again though and afterwards I was sitting on our coach eating salt from a packet out of my bag to help ground myself. Salt and butter, by the way are great things to carry around for emergency situations.
Rathcroghan was next on our itinerary, on the dark moon the day before Samhain. We started at Ogulla, a triple holy well, then went to the Rathcroghan mound. Walking up the mound I could feel that it was a sí but at this point I was kind of accepting that all the old cairns and burial mounds in Ireland are. We were being led that day by Lora O'Brien, who is an amazing guide that knows Rathcroghan and Medb and the Morrigan better than anyone else I can think of. When we reached the top, up the eastern entrance, Lora had us all take 16 big steps out to demonstrate the size of the mound; I found myself walking straight towards the western entrance/walkway and had an almost overwhelming urge to keep walking. I knew in the moment that I had to go down that way, just as I'd come up the east. Had to, like a compulsion. This was almost immediately problematic, however, as Lora began talking about the mound and its history and mentioned the two paths, east and west, and shared that in her own opinion the western walk was not for the living and we were all to go down the east, the way we'd come. And the hell of it was that what she was saying resonated as true with me but still I knew I had to go down that way. She had us focus on connecting to the ancestors and Medb, and probably to no one's surprise at this point I ended up connecting to the Fair Folk in the mound instead. Then when we were done and it was time to leave, I discovered I had a problem — I could not go down the eastern path. Could not. Physically could not. I wandered the top trying to figure out what to do because this was most certainly a case of 'do as I say, not as I do' since I knew no one else should follow me down the western path and I was afraid to just go down and have anyone else follow me. In the end I found Lora and talked to her, and then when everyone else had gone down the eastern path I went the way I had to go.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Travelling the Fairy Path"
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Copyright © 2017 Morgan Daimler.
Excerpted by permission of John Hunt Publishing Ltd..
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Table of Contents
Introduction: Walking into the Wilds 1
Chapter 1 Stepping onto the Path, or How I Got Here 3
Chapter 2 Trucking with Spirit 18
Chapter 3 Personal Gnosis, Omens and Intuition 52
Chapter 4 The Otherworld and Those within It 69
Chapter 5 The Wisdom of Ballads and Poems 108
Chapter 6 Dreams, Trance and Journeying Elsewhere 152
Chapter 7 Shifting Shape and Glamour 172
Chapter 8 In Practice 185
Chapter 9 Wild Witchcraft 210
Chapter 10 Advice from the Fairy Courts 236
Conclusion Walking On 243
Appendix A Bedlam Boys 246
Appendix B The Ogham 250
Appendix C Resources 261
Bibliography 267