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A personal look into my Samhain observances.

(Image description: A photo of several tealight candles placed and lit against a dark background.) Credit: Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash

Every so often, my flamekeeping shift aligns with the fire festivals. I normally do a holiday flamekeeping shift for them, but the synchronization of the holiday and my regular flamekeeping shifts feels even more important to observe and celebrate the occasion.

For me, Samhain has become less of focusing on one or two days and has become more of a season that can be centered around ancestors and death related deities. Brighid has Her keening associations, so She is well-suited for the holiday. My ancestor veneration is a work-in-progress and might possibly be different from what others do.

With the days getting shorter, the start time at sunset crept up sooner than I realized, even with digital reminders. The decrease of daylight really signals how quickly winter is approaching after the considerable length of summer. The local weather is a slow indicator, but the diminishing light is the harbinger in the change of seasons.

I have done some work into developing my heartthcraft practice, but I felt the need to deepen it on a symbolic level. I knew of how hearth fires were lit from the bonfires at Tlachtga (known also as the Hill of Ward) and wanted to do my own version of it, keeping it relevant to Brighid.

The fire-in-water imagery combines Brighid’s main elemental associations and that of imbas, divine inspiration. It was the source of the poetry written by the Irish filí. I also see this as a means of creation both on a cosmic level and on a smaller, domestic level.

A friend gave me a small tealight candle that was lit from Brighid’s sacred flame in Kildare, Ireland during a past Imbolc. I used this to light another tealight candle in a metal bowl I was using as a water-filled cauldron. From there, I lit another candle placed in a glass candle holder that has hearth related imagery. In essence, I was kindling a hearth of sorts while giving a nod to the Samhain bonfires.

Along with this, I fulfilled prayer requests and offered incense, water, and some poetry reflecting the symbolism of lighting the hearth candle. I recited a poem I wrote to Brighid titled “Samhain Prayer to Brighid, the Mourning Mother”. I also did an ogam reading covering the time period between Samhain and Imbolc and will use the feda I received as a focus through the next few months of the spiritual New Year.

It was a simple but meaningful ritual, and I absolutely enjoyed the richness of the connections I saw in it. I would like to have it be part of a yearly Samhain tradition. Costuming didn’t figure into this year’s celebration, but perhaps I will incorporate that for next year’s festivities. As the days darken and shorten, I feel this time of year is even more introspective, calling me to draw inward as I will likely spend more time at home.

Have a happy and blessed Samhain season!

A Samhain related poem to Brighid and some commentary.

(Image description: A photo of two very weathered antique books on top of a an old dictionary. A silver pocket watch is on the book to the right, with its hour hand on the ten and the minute hand on the two.) Credit: Photo by Daniele Levis Pelusi on Unsplash

Given that Samhain features looking to the past, I decided to look through my poetry journal and share an older piece with you from Samhain 2017.

The connection between the Cailleach and Brighid/Bride is very muddled because there’s not much significant folkloric evidence of whether they are two sides of the same deity or rival goddesses with control over the different seasons. The most common folktale that explores and tells their story is The Coming of Angus and Bride.

There’s speculation on whether it was merely made up to fit with fairy tale themes, with Angus coming to Bride’s rescue and Them battling the Cailleach, the Winter Hag. However, I recently attended an online lecture about the Scottish Cailleach hosted by The University of Glasgow and recalled some information from it; one of the tales associated with Her is that She would go to a magical pool every hundred years to renew Her youth (with no mention of Her specifically becoming Bride).

My thoughts on this is that each region had their own stories of the Cailleach, and that it was only until later did people attempt to unify them into a cohesive figure. This approach was done with greater or lesser of success, and that’s why She appears to be more of a composite of similarly related figures. There’s likely several Cailleachs instead of one overarching, elderly goddess associated with winter and the creation of lochs, mountains, cairns, and other features in the Scottish landscape. (She also appears in Irish myth, but I chose to focus on the Scottish version.) In any regard, how They may or may not be linked is up to the individual’s own perspective and practice.

My viewpoint toward Them isn’t set in stone and shifts in one direction or another, depending on evidence and UPG (Unverified Personal Gnosis). As such, the following poem reflects this change in my perception of Them at an earlier time and doesn’t entirely match how I see Them now.

Lady of Stories

Tonight You rest

beneath the mountain of the Cailleach

pulling the cowl over

Your brilliant head.

To dream and inspire

of new growth

children playing

new hope despite despair.

Your slumber is restful

but ever so abundant.

Lady of Stories,

You hold each tale

within Your mantle.

Some dark,

some light,

all of worth to be told and heard.

A seasonal poem marking the descent into fall.

(Image description: A photo of a spider web attached to thin branches of a plant. The background is an out of focus forested area during an overcast day.) Credit: Photo by Robert Anasch on Unsplash

Glimpses

A glimpse in time

A glance of nature

Cicada’s waning cry

In the ebbing, humid high

Spider’s web bobbing

In the cooling breeze

Rosemary branch recalling

Lives past and to be

Daddy-longlegs’ stroll

Meandering with urgency

Birds soaring southward

For a warm respite

Honeysuckle’s fleeting dance

A coiling of green and white

Leaf’s spiral to the ground

Graceful dance of loss

A blink of the season

A wink in life

The ways costuming can be a mindful practice.

(Image description: A black and white photo of a guiser. A pointed cap and a dark mask cover the head and face. They are wearing a short-sleeved top with a striped scarf and a jack-o-lantern design hanging from the collar, along with a skirt and Mary Jane flats. A building and foliage can be seen behind them.) Credit: By UNK photographer: uploaded by User:WayneRay – Private collection, originals donated to York University Archives, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3188147

Halloween and Samhain/Samhuinn are only a few weeks away, and one of the traditional ways of observing both is dressing in a costume. This is also called guising. As I started thinking about the tradition, I realized there are some unexpected contemplative aspects to the practice. Contemplative practices are usually thought of as serious, but I think they can also be fun.

Based on this post by the Cailleach’s Herbarium, Samhain is historically a liminal and chaotic time. People would disguise themselves in masks, sacks, and whatever else they could get and would go from home to home, seeking hospitality, reveling, and causing mischief, depending on how they were received. Things are now typically more family friendly for trick-or-treaters, but there’s always that element of trouble-making underneath the holiday’s surface with egging and toilet papering homes and general unruliness.

Young people would would also dress in the clothes of the opposite sex, contrary to the societal norms of the day. Some people wouldn’t bat an eyelash at this type of costume nowadays, but crossing that boundary has an inherent queerness to it. Perhaps this theme lives on with how Halloween is seen as “Gay Christmas” by the LGBTQIA+ community.

A central aspect of Samhain and Halloween is that of the Other. This can refer to the fact that the Fair Folk were and are very active during this time of the year, like its mirror image of Bealtaine/Bealtainn. Revelry and mischief making stand counter to the social norms of the day, so hiding one’s identity either from the Good Neighbors or your mundane neighbors was paramount. Obscuring your identity is likely still a good idea with the Fair Folk, but there’s also a playfulness involved with disguising yourself.

Dressing up allows you to temporarily and lightheartedly assume a different identity than your daily one. It’s a means to let go of the everyday tethers and enjoy being someone or something else. As a note, this doesn’t entail that you should dress in costumes that denigrate other cultures and peoples as a caricature.

Costumes have evolved greatly, and people can spend quite a bit of money on them. Based on older photos, it’s clear people used their own clothing and whatever items or materials for their costumes. The results are actually quite eerie and suitably spooky. I can understand why it would deter someone wanting to confront the disguised revelers for any perceived Halloween slights. You don’t know who or what you’re dealing with, so that sense of unease trickled down into the love of all things scary during Halloween.

I can see a connection between Brighid and costuming. She’s linked to the arts and beauty as a general rule, and a costume is another way of creating beauty. Costuming is another type of devotional act, like acts of charity or giving offerings. The options are nearly limitless with a variety of garments, masks, makeup, and wigs, so there’s an immense palette to use in creating your “false face”.

It’s been a while since I dressed for Halloween, and I’m considering dressing as an abstract concept, rather than a person or thing. Similar to guisers of the past, I will be using what I have on hand. I have no plans to go out for Halloween/Samhain, but I can still enjoy wearing it around my home to celebrate the festival.

If you decide to dress up for the occasion, may you have fun while doing so!

A personal discussion on the practice of spiritual covering of the head.

(Image description: A light-skinned person with long, dark hair in a red dress and a sheer, white veil draped around their head and shoulders. They are holding up a string of black beads while looking at the viewer.) Credit: Photo by Houcine Ncib on Unsplash

The subject of Pagan veiling can be something of a hot button issue with people in general. Without much knowledge of it, it brings to mind ideas of repression and submissiveness, qualities that are considered inappropriate by many. However, this viewpoint is only one among several and a severely limiting one at that. Pagan veiling is done by choice, not by a human mandate.

I was introduced to the concept of Pagan veiling in a Polytheistic Monasticism group, so I quietly joined a veiling group to learn more about it. After that, I began veiling with scarves on and off since late 2018 and later on joined another veiling group open to all genders.

I was somewhat nervous to wear a scarf, as there isn’t a large number of people who cover for religious reasons in the region. Despite that, the occasional times I would wear one gave me a sense of comfort. When I didn’t wear one, I felt like I was missing something.

My veiling practice has become more frequent. I’ve found that I like to experiment with themes with the scarf or hat I’m wearing. This inspiration can be related to the seasons, mood, or even a theme I want to represent. Sometimes, these qualities overlap in the decision making for a particular veil.

As time passed, I grew curious about the historical background of veiling. I wondered if there was any precedent for my practice, and I found that there was with regard to Brighid and in a more general sense.

While I have never been directly asked to veil, I see veiling as a devotional act for Brighid. In the Carmina Gadelica, there is a prayer called the The Descent of Brigit, which gives lists off various epithets that describe some facet about Her. One of those is “Brigit of the mantles”.

There’s also the tradition of leaving a piece of cloth or ribbon outside for St. Brighid to bless as She returns to this world on the eve before Imbolc/St. Brighid’s Day and travels the land to bring about spring. The Brighid’s mantle would be used for healing or protection by those who put it there.

A mantle is simply a cape-like garment (or shawl) to protect against the elements, as it could be draped over the head and shoulders. In countries like Ireland and Scotland, it would be quite warm in wet or chilly conditions. Given the epithet, this probably would’ve been the veil St. Brigid wore, instead of the common image of a nun’s habit.

Veiling has well-known ties to monasticism, even in the term cailleach. Its main meaning is veiled woman, but there’s similar definitions of nun, abbess, and elderly woman, but it can also refer to supernatural figures, unfortunately described in an uncomplimentary way. This tone could have been merely ageism and misogyny in action; there’s also the likely theme of the scribe attempting to discount such figures as ungodly. Personally, I disagree with this viewpoint.

These multiple meanings paint a complex depiction of veiling. It gives the external viewpoints of how others viewed veiled people and deities. (Most notably, the Cailleach is associated with the term, but there are surprisingly references to the Morrígan with a variation of the word.) The definitions don’t provide much insight into how the wearer personally felt about the veil. There may have been a variety of emotions linked with veiling, but they would also be private and not necessarily required to be known to others.

I see veiling as part of my spiritual journey. It’s enabled me to care less about how others view me; it’s also given some insight into my own privilege of being able to wear a scarf or hat more easily, while a person of color wouldn’t be able to do so without being more concerned about their safety. It’s also been insightful into the subtle and overt biases in different communities.

I wear coverings for medical purposes and spiritual ones. Dual applications of veiling can indicate practical uses that eventually evolved to have religious intent as well. However, that’s also conjecture, as we don’t know if humans began doing spiritual activities that had useful purposes as well.

Regardless of cultural or individual opinions on the subject, veiling should be a personal choice. It is an act that can be done for various reasons beyond what I’ve mentioned here. People shouldn’t have to explain why they veil (veiling can be done by people of any gender), but people tend to assume or be nosy or merely curious, as human nature goes. If you’re asking with good intentions, do so respectfully. You’ll likely get a simple response, and that should suffice unless the person wishes to discuss the topic more. Veiling is simply another method through which people can express themselves in a variety of ways and reasons.

Thoughts on the start of the autumn and a future art project.

(Image description: A photo of a black lantern with a lit candle inside. It is on a wooden bench surrounded by fallen autumn leaves. The background is of a forested area during sunset.) Credit: Photo by Marko Blažević on Unsplash

My most recent flamekeeping shift started on the eve of the Autumn Equinox, so observing the shift in the seasons seemed even more important than usual. Fall is my favorite season with its gradually cooler temperatures, shorter days, heartier meals, and many other wonderful things.

Beside fulfilling prayer requests, I spent some time in nature to celebrate the holiday. It was a quiet, but fulfilling occasion.

Even with the official start of the season, it wasn’t time to don sweaters and watch colorful leaves fall from trees. I spent some time at the beach and enjoyed the cooler temperatures there. Autumn is felt more in the slant of the sun and the wind. In this case, it was very windy that day, so it serves as a reminder of autumn’s blustery side.

It’s bit of a habit to collect seashells from the shoreline, so I try to be mindful of not collecting too many. After all, shells are homes for many animals and eventually contribute to coastlines in their own small way, with the issue of erosion being a problem.

While there, I found a seashell and a piece of driftwood about the length of my forearm. It has some lovely lines and knots. When I spotted it, I immediately thought it might have a spiritual purpose.

I initially considered making it into a wand, but I then thought that it could serve as a more durable base for a bell branch. My current one is made from a slender tree branch that I painted silver with small, round bells attached to it.

The driftwood has some spiritual connections by way of the three realms of earth, sea, and sky. Its parent tree depended on the land to grow. Once the branch fell off the tree, it was shaped by the water and wind.

Other than adding bells to it, I think adding the letters of the ogam alphabet to it could possibly work. I will need to give it some thought for its design.

Art projects aside, changes in the season also have their own deeper meanings. After all, the natural world is a mirror to the spiritual one.

In the Carmina Gadelica, St. Bride is mentioned as holding sway over the seasons and giving them their respective purposes. She’s typically associated with the coming of spring and renewal of life, but

She’s also responsible for the other seasons’ aspects.

I don’t know how people in the Scottish Highlands might’ve personally perceived the seasonal changes due to time period and location differences, but there is a general sense of slowing down and turning inward. This shift can be observed in many different ways, based on preferences and circumstances.

It’s a return to rest and a time for gratitude, but it can also be a time to start removing things that no longer serve a purpose. It’s a slowness of color and bounty until nature slumbers in winter.

From a monastic perspective, fall might be considered as an increase in the quiet of the earth and a drawing near of the Otherworld. That occurrence makes sense with Samhain approaching, a time of the ancestors and liminality in general. As this seasonal process continues, I imagine that I’ll write more about these sorts of topics.

May you and yours have a blessed, happy, and wondrous autumn!

The spiritual and mundane aspects of uncertainty and fate.

(Image description: A photo of four drop spindles. From left to right, the first one has dark red fiber wrapped around it, and the second one has blue. White fiber is twined around the third one, and another has dark red fiber around it.) Credit: By Pschemp – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11607457

I’ve been mulling over what topic to write about for this week’s post, and the different topics all sounded good to discuss. However, they also felt like they had a “not at this point, write about it later” quality to them.

I suppose I’m starting to think of my posts as produce that let me know when they’re “ripe enough” to harvest, so to speak. Occasionally, some posts feel “good enough” and are sent off into the world. Seasonally appropriate analogies aside, all of this hemming and hawing helped me decide on the subject.

Overall, all of this indecision drew me to the topic of uncertainty. It’s a common theme of human existence that all of us share at one point or another to greater or lesser degrees. It’s normal in the human range of emotions to experience.

Humans face uncertainty in different forms. Relationships can falter and cause us to question what the future of them will be. Health is an ever-present concern, as we can be healthy one day and ill the next. This is especially so for those with chronic health conditions. Economic and financial issues factor into the precariousness of many problems.

The last time our species had to deal with a pandemic was when our great or great-great grandparents were alive. It brought its own uncertainty, as the one in 2019 did and still is. There’s still underlying questions of “What is the new normal?” or “When will I be able to do x?”

Regardless of how we face pandemics or other ordeals, big or small, we eventually have to figure out some answer of “why is this happening?” and “how does this problem affect my perspective of reality?”

For Polytheists and Pagans of various kinds, there’s concepts like fate and destiny that play into our own theologies. I can’t speak for anybody but myself on the matter, so I’ll offer my take on the subject from a spiritual point of view.

My practice falls under Celtic Polytheism, with more of a focus with Irish and Scottish deities. The Greeks had the Moirai and the Norse had the Norns, deities who spun fate with fibers composing the tapestry of life. Each strand stood for a life. As far as I’ve been able to see, the closest Celtic Polytheistic equivalent are the Matres and the Matronae, but their connections to fate are speculative.

In Scottish folk traditions, there’s songs used in spinning and weaving for different magical purposes. Magic could then be considered as a means of affecting the outcome of fate, depending on your view of how that all works.

Where I’m going with this next might seem a bit left field, but bear with me.

In the film “Terminator 2: Judgment Day”, the character Sarah Connor has the quote “No fate but what we make”. Regardless of your opinions of the franchise, it brings up an interesting point.

Following that line and connecting it to the figures discussed above, where do these divine weavers get their fibers for their spindles and looms? How does this unknown supplier of materials tie to uncertainty?

What if humans create the fibers through our actions and our intent? As we make decisions and carry them out, the fibers are created. When we face uncertainty of all kinds, we are the ones providing the materials for whatever controls outcomes on a grand scale.

You could consider it as the universe experiencing itself or one of the above goddesses doing their craft, watching as the colors and textures form a part of the larger tapestry. Some of our personal fibers are crafted from the materials of uncertain events and others from our reactions to them.

This can indicate that mortals aren’t helpless figures in their lives, but that we have an active role to play in the creation of the great tapestry of the universe. We’re the ones informing what that picture will look like.

When it comes to uncertainty, all we can do is collect and experience these fibers as they come into our lives. Perhaps the divinities are less the directors of mortals’ lives and more weavers of the universe’s fabric, in which our stories are a fraction of the cosmic whole.

That possibility means that we’re not just being pulled along for the ride; we have a certain amount of influence on our direction. It signals that we’re important, even with our minute input into the tapestry of creation.

We’re unaware of this as we go about our lives, making decisions and acting as we must. We are the ones who have to do the initial twining of the fibers to contribute to the tapestry, taking the first step even with uncertainty in our shadows.

The votary shares some news and a poem about the shift from summer to fall.

(Image description: An illustration of the goddess Brighid kneeling on the ground. She has curly red hair, with two plaits blowing in the air. She wears a dark cloak and green skirt, a gold halo around Her head. She is holding a bronze bowl with a flame in it. In front of Her is a patch of snowdrops and a snake coiled around a sword. Behind Her is a swan in the water and a piece of land with a copse of birch trees and silhouetted standing stones. A gold crozier is near Her. The white text reads: Brigid’s Light: Tending the Ancestral Flame of the Beloved Celtic Goddess. Edited by Cairelle Crow & Laura Louella.) Credit: Original image “Brighde” by Stuart Littlejohn, used with permission for the book cover.

Great news! I submitted a poem earlier this year to the Sanctuary of Brigid for an anthology and was accepted. The poem “The Guiding Star” is my contribution to Brigid’s Light: Tending the Ancestral Flame of the Beloved Celtic Goddess. This will be my first published work, and I couldn’t be happier about it! The book looks like it’ll be a really wonderful collection of essays, art, photos, and other offerings to Brighid. It’s available for pre-order here through Barnes & Noble and will be out Spring 2022.

Tease of Autumn

Cool, crisp air

A tickle of goose bumps

Delighted shiver welcoming

the chilling change

A flicker of illusory flame

against a tree’s pale bark

The orange-gold sunbeam

draws my eye

A moth to the flame

yearning for dark and light

It’s still a ways to go

beleaguered by old Sol

Harsh afternoon heat

No reprieve ‘til morn

Nature marks its own time

the sun’s slant a tick of the clock

An agonizing crawl

toward cooler days

The promise of earth and spice

time of decay and bounty

Gentle whispers in my ears

tales told by a missed friend

A glimpse of red-touched leaves

Joy alights my senses

Thoughts on Brighid and abortion.

(Image description: A photo of sweater-clad arms and light-skinned hands grasping a light blue mug filled partially with a dark-colored beverage. Beneath the cup is a folded pink cloth and a white, blue-striped cloth on top of a wooden table.) Credit: Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

My shift started as it normally did with the lighting of my lantern around the local sunset time. Earlier in the day, SB 8 became effective in Texas and made most abortions after six weeks illegal. While not eliminating Roe vs. Wade, it’s a significant blow to reproductive rights in the US. Given the timing of this event and my flamekeeping shift, the law’s dire repercussions were on my mind.

I recalled the Repeal the 8th movement that occurred in Ireland in 2018. Previously, the law prohibited abortions (except for serious at-risk pregnancies) and would force people needing them to go elsewhere to get a procedure.

During the campaign, a short film titled St. Brigid, produced by David Keeling, was released, which covered a few of St. Brighid’s miracles in a cheeky, humorous manner and brought awareness to Repeal the 8th.

At the end, the video discusses how a young woman (or a nun, depending on the story) came to St. Brighid with an unwanted pregnancy, and St. Brighid, through her faith, caused the pregnancy to vanish painlessly and without birth. The video can still be viewed here.

The Thirty-sixth Amendment of the Constitution of Ireland passed later that year and made getting an abortion much easier. Whether Brighid had some or any influence on it, it’s up to readers of this post to decide for themselves.

I’ve never had an abortion, but I feel it should be an option for pregnant people who need it for whatever reason that deems an abortion necessary. I also use the term people to be inclusive of trans and non-binary individuals who are capable of getting pregnant and face even greater medical hurdles if they need an abortion.

Like St. Brighid’s approach to the young woman, it’s unkind to judge others for their choices, as you don’t know what others are going through at the time. It’s better to make a difficult situation easier to process and handle, instead of causing others to suffer more. In this case, that entails easier access to reproductive education, contraception, and abortion.

Beyond the miracle mentioned above, Brighid is a healer. Sometimes, healing doesn’t only involve treating wounds or offering medicine. It’s helping people at odds with a law and overwhelmed by situations like pregnancy. Pregnancy isn’t always meant to happen for numerous reasons. Children should be wanted and loved by parents before they’re brought into the world. Pregnancy shouldn’t be treated as a punishment. I can’t speak for the goddess or the saint, but I’m offering this prayer to Her to help those in need in a small way.

Brighid,

Mother, Midwife, Friend

hear their stories,

wrap them in Your mantle

protect their hearts, minds, and bodies

aid them in their plights

each day and every day,

each night and every night.

A poem related to current events.

(Image description: A photo of lit tealight candles arranged in the shape of a peace sign against a dark background.) Credit: Photo by Joshua Sukoff on Unsplash

A Prayer For a Harsh World

O Keener,

You Shrieked

Wept

For Your dear

Red-haired child

Torn by manipulation

Struck by Spear

It isn’t the only time You mourn.

War

Earthquakes

Hurricanes

Plague

Your Kings of Oxen, Boars, Sheep

even beyond Éire’s borders

still mourn with You.

Their bellows and cries

are carried in the wind,

piercing, harsh echoes.

In distant lands

Islands, deserts, and mountains

Cities and towns

Manipulation rests at the heart

of these tragedies

bore by those with power and wealth

As it did with

Your cherished son,

his listless head against Your chest

Tear-stained cheeks,

Loose, wild hair

voice hoarse with effort

No sedate Pietà

Grief-stricken

Mary of the Gael

Untamed Juno of the Gael*

heavy with weariness

the world’s woes a weighted shawl

A time of rest and care

clears Your sacred mind,

returns Your song.

Your skill of satire

fueled by Your keening

stirs You to action.

Midwife and Mother,

may You guide us

to a kinder world.

*I found the term Juno of the Gael used in reference to St. Bride in the Carmina Gadelica. I’m aware that there was a tendency to sometimes conflate Scottish and Irish figures with perceived Greek or Roman equivalents in the 19th and early 20th centuries, but I considered the comparison interesting enough to use in the poem.

Source: https://sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cg1/cg1074.htm