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The Beach, part 3 - Liminal Space

24/4/2013

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The first and second parts of this piece have simply been a brief re-telling of the story of Becuma of the White Skin. There I have followed and quoted James Stephens' version of the story, which is considerably longer than my synopsis, but a very entertaining read. I believe that the oldest written source for this story is the fourteenth century "Book of Fermoy". Here is a link to a Gaelic transcription and English translation of the story.

Unravelling the strands of the tale

I have written a bit in the past about liminal places, and "Wild Child?" in particular, explores the meeting of land and water.  There is also quite a good article on liminality in good old Wikipedia, if you don't feel that you are up to speed. Liminal times and places occur where two things meet. Land and water, day and night, two seasons, and so on. These points can act as thresholds to other worlds, and a beach is a classic place of liminal space. If we look at the behaviour of the three main characters in this story: Conn, Becuma and Art - each of them is in trouble, and each of them seem, instinctively, to seek out this liminal space in the hope of finding a solution, and of effecting change.

Conn goes to Ben Edair seeking to get a grip on himself. He meets Becuma, gets distracted and makes a seemingly poor choice. While Conn has come from the land to the beach, Becuma comes from the sea, but why is she there? What does liminal space have to offer her, other than somewhere to land? Why does she call herself Delvcaem, of all the names she might choose?

howth, ben edair, dan butler
Howth Inlet, by Dan Butler
Howth Head, which is known in Gaelic as Ben Edair, is part of Dublin harbour.


My theory is that Delvcaem is Becuma's other self, her true, or best self. A self trapped by forces she hasn't been able to overcome. Becuma has been unfaithful to her husband - something which might not be taken so seriously in a world other than The Many Coloured Land. Stephens tells us: "In the Shi' the crime of Becuma would have been lightly considered, and would have received none or but a nominal punishment, but in the second world a horrid gravity attaches to such a lapse, and the retribution meted is implacable and grim." So, while in one sense she may have little choice, her coracle takes her exactly to the place she most needs to go. For, in some ways, this is really Becuma/Delvcaem's story. By seeking the liminal space of Ben Edair, Becuma sets in motion the events needed to reclaim herself as Delvcaem, and to find her destiny as Art's queen, an intention she actually states on her arrival. Let's not forget that Conn's troubles exist because of the loss of a queen, after all.

Both Conn and Art depart and arrive through this same liminal space repeatedly in the story. Perhaps the change they are really effecting is a transfer of power. Having lost Eithne, it seems that Conn's life force is on the wane, and no matter what he tries, things seem to get steadily worse in Ireland. In fact, when describing the fight between Art and Morgan, toward the end of the story, Stephens says, "But when the wife's time has come the husband is doomed. He is required elsewhere by his beloved."  Perhaps the time has come when the best solution to Conn's trouble and grief is to hand power to his son. However, it is really Becuma's arrival which set the wheels in motion to make this possible. The quest provided by Becuma/Delvcaem transforms Art from an untried youth to a hero who has proved both his mettle and his committment to the kingdon of Ireland.

The replacement of Becuma/Delvcaem with "the real Delvcaem" who is beautiful, virtuous and powerful, and who is willingly joined to Art, fills the final requirement for Art's successful kingship. The thing that Conn is now lacking. A suitable queen.

art son of conn, arthur rackham
from an Illustration by Arthur Rackham

becuma, arthur rackham
Becuma arriving on Ben Edair - Arthur Rackham


A further word on the Beach card, and liminal space.

beach, oracle card
Beach - The meeting of two entities. The need for constant change. Departure on a quest. The arrival of something beautiful yet problematic.

To seek out the beach, or liminal space, is also to seek out the involvement of the gods. We do this because we seek change. Often, we complain that the gods don't speak to us, or that we can't hear them. Yet, when the communication is clear, very often we don't like the answers we are given. The truth is that we rarely end up at the beach looking for answers unless things need to change, unless we need to change, and change is rarely comfortable or convenient. We come looking for a "beautiful" answer, and before we know it, we're dealing with sea monsters and toads, and although they are largely an illusion, they are still scary.

Stories like this one are here to show us the way, and most of all to give us courage. I believe that the best readings are also stories which should have this effect. That is certainly what I try to achieve when I do a reading. The Beach card in my oracle deck describes this process, this moment, to help us see what is happening. We are at a turning point, we are about to get some help, even though it may not feel like help at the time. We need change, even though we may fear it, or may feel resistent to the form it takes. We are being invited to put our foot in the coracle.


You can now buy this three part series of posts  (The Beach) in a newly edited version, along with my allegorical short story The Story Shawl, and a new poem about the goddess Macha. All in this beautifully illustrated chapbook entitled Mythology.

See product page for more information.
Mythology
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The Beach, part 2 - Art's Quest

22/4/2013

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The beach card in my oracle deck has always been connected in my mind to the story of Delvcaem, from the Book of Fermoy. I love the re-telling of this story by James Stephens, entitled Becuma of the White Skin. This is part 2 of my synopsis of this story. Unless you are familiar with the story, you may want to read part 1, because we are joining the action in the middle ...
Things dragged on in a bad state in Ireland, and a great enmity grew up between Becuma and Art. One day Becuma challenged Art to a game of chess, and having won the game she gave him the following forfeit:
"I bind you," said Becuma, "to eat no food in Ireland until you have found Delvcaem, the daughter of Morgan."

"Where do I look for her?" said Art in despair.

"She is in one of the islands of the sea," Becuma replied, "that is all I will tell you."

Art, as his father had done before him, set out for the Many-Coloured Land, but it was from Inver Colpa he embarked and not from Ben Edair.

At a certain time he passed from the rough green ridges of the sea to enchanted waters, and he roamed from island to island asking all people how he might come to Delvcaem, the daughter of Morgan. But he got no news from any one, until he reached an island that was fragrant with wild apples, gay with flowers, and joyous with the song of birds and the deep mellow drumming of the bees. In this island he was met by a lady, Crede', the Truly Beautiful, and when they had exchanged kisses, he told her who he was and on what errand he was bent.

"We have been expecting you," said Crede', "but alas, poor soul, it is a hard, and a long, bad way that you must go; for there is sea and land, danger and difficulty between you and the daughter of Morgan."

Crede described to Art in horrifying detail the journey he must undertake. It was going to be fraught with dangers of every kind and terrible monsters that would likely be impossible to overcome. In fact she advised him, in no uncertain terms, to give up his plan and stay with her. She promised him that he would forget Ireland and be happy there, but Art refused to stay and refused to forget Ireland, and so Crede gave him what advice she could and Art set out once again. He stepped into his coracle, even as Crede continued to describe the dangers and horrors that lay ahead.

"There is yet a danger," she called. "Beware of Delvcaem's mother, Dog Head, daughter of the King of the Dog Heads. Beware of her."

"Indeed," said Art to himself, "there is so much to beware of that I will beware of nothing. I will go about my business," he said to the waves, "and I will let those beings and monsters and the people of the Dog Heads go about their business."

arthur rackham, giant toads
In the way of adventuring heroes, Art won his way through monster filled seas, hag infested woods, over slippery mountains of ice filled with venomnous toads -- there were giants, there were lions... and all these things were, in fact, illusions brewed up by Dog Head, mother of Delvcaem. Finally, he arrived at the beautiful fortress of Dog Head and Morgan, where the lovely Delvcaem was kept imprisoned atop a high pillar. Then, Art had to fight Dog Head. It was a hard fight, but he won it and freed the lady. They were about to leave when Morgan showed up, so Art had to fight him, too. That fight was equally hard. Finally, Art and Delvcaem (now affianced) were able to leave this place. And so, James Stephens ends the story this way:

He did not tarry in the Many-Coloured Land, for he had nothing further to seek there. He gathered the things which pleased him best from among the treasures of its grisly king, and with Delvcaem by his side they stepped into the coracle.

Then, setting their minds on Ireland, they went there as it were in a flash.
The waves of all the world seemed to whirl past them in one huge, green cataract. The sound of all these oceans boomed in their ears for one eternal instant. Nothing was for that moment but a vast roar and pour of waters. Thence they swung into a silence equally vast, and so sudden that it was as thunderous in the comparison as was the elemental rage they quitted. For a time they sat panting, staring at each other, holding each other, lest not only their lives but their very souls should be swirled away in the gusty passage of world within world; and then, looking abroad, they saw the small bright waves creaming by the rocks of Ben Edair, and they blessed the power that had guided and protected them, and they blessed the comely land of Ir.
arthur rackham, becuma or the white skin
On reaching Tara, Delvcaem, who was more powerful in art and magic than Becuma, ordered the latter to go away, and she did so.

She left the king's side. She came from the midst of the counsellors and magicians. She did not bid farewell to any one. She did not say good-bye to the king as she set out for Ben Edair.

Where she could go to no man knew, for she had been banished from the Many-Coloured Land and could not return there. She was forbidden entry to the Shi' by Angus Og, and she could not remain in Ireland. She went to Sasana and she became a queen in that country, and it was she who fostered the rage against the Holy Land which has not ceased to this day.
But hang on a minute. Let's back up. Delvcaem? Wasn't that the name Becuma used as her own? What really happened here?

In the final installment, we'll be looking at one possible interpretation of this story, and what we might learn from it. Why not take the time to think about your own interpretation in the meantime?

Continue to part 3 - Liminal Space

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The Beach, part 1 - Looking for Answers

21/4/2013

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The beach card in my oracle deck has always been connected in my mind to the story of Delvcaem, from the Book of Fermoy. I love the re-telling of this story by James Stephens, entitled Becuma of the White Skin. Some may be sceptical of re-tellings as opposed to direct translations from old manuscripts, but I believe that Bardic inspiration runs through many authors of many periods and is one valid way of finding deep meaning in mythology.

Due to the lengthy quotes, this article turned out to be too long for a single blog post, so I will present it in three parts over the next few days.


There are more worlds than one, and in many ways they are unlike each other. But joy and sorrow, or, in other words, good and evil, are not absent in their degree from any of the worlds, for wherever there is life there is action, and action is but the expression of one or other of these qualities.

After this Earth there is the world of the Shi'. Beyond it again lies the Many-Coloured Land. Next comes the Land of Wonder, and after that the Land of Promise awaits us. You will cross clay to get into the Shi'; you will cross water to attain the Many-Coloured Land; fire must be passed ere the Land of Wonder is attained, but we do not know what will be crossed for the fourth world.

This adventure of Conn the Hundred Fighter and his son Art was by the way of water...

A council has been called in the Many coloured Land to decide the fate of Becuma, who has been unfaithful to her husband, and it was decided that she should be banished to the world of men.
She stepped into a coracle, it was pushed on the enchanted waters, and it went forward, world within world, until land appeared, and her boat swung in low tide against a rock at the foot of Ben Edair.
Meanwhile, Conn of the Hundred Battles, high king of Ireland, was mourning the loss of his beloved wife, Eithne. He was a great king, and Ireland had prospered mightily during his reign, however his grief was now putting a damper on all that.

He grew more and more despondent, and less and less fitted to cope with affairs of state, and one day he instructed his son Art to take the rule during his absence, and he set out for Ben Edair.

For a great wish had come upon him to walk beside the sea; to listen to the roll and boom of long, grey breakers; to gaze on an unfruitful, desolate wilderness of waters; and to forget in those sights all that he could forget, and if he could not forget then to remember all that he should remember.

He was thus gazing and brooding when one day he observed a coracle drawing to the shore. A young girl stepped from it and walked to him among black boulders and patches of yellow sand. 

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So they talked and Conn was easily bewitched by her beauty. She spun him a yarn about being in love with his son Art (based on his reputation alone) and told him that her name was Delvcaem. Conn was jealous, wanting her for himself. The upshot of all this was that she consented to marry Conn, but made him agree to banish Art from the kingdom for one year, to give her time to get over her infatuation. This was done, but during the year Ireland suffered from poor harvests and starvation, where once there had been plenty. The bards and druids told Conn that the only solution to this problem (caused by Becuma's presence) was the blood sacrifice of "the son of a sinless couple". So when the year was up and Art returned, Conn left the kingdom in his hands and set out on a quest to look for such a person.

He went to Ben Edair. He stepped into a coracle and pushed out to the deep, and he permitted the coracle to go as the winds and the waves directed it.
Conn's sea journey was long and dangerous. However, eventually he came to an island

fragrant with apple trees, sweet with wells of wine; and, hearkening towards the shore, his ears, dulled yet with the unending rhythms of the sea, distinguished and were filled with song; for the isle was, as it were, a nest of birds, and they sang joyously, sweetly, triumphantly.

He landed on that lovely island, and went forward under the darting birds, under the apple boughs, skirting fragrant lakes about which were woods of the sacred hazel and into which the nuts of knowledge fell and swam; and he blessed the gods of his people because of the ground that did not shiver and because of the deeply rooted trees that could not gad or budge.

Here he found the lad he sought, called Segda. Conn asked Segda's parents for "a loan of their son" to which they reluctantly agreed, with many provisions for his protection. So they sailed back to Ireland, Conn being aware that he'd put himself in an awkward position.

When they got back, Segda understood why he was there, and at first refused to be killed, then seeing the plight of the starving people, agreed. However, he was rescued by his mother, who tricked Conn's druids and prophesied that the real cause of the problem was Becuma. She took her son, and left, leaving them to think things over.

Things dragged on in a bad state in Ireland, and a great enmity grew up between Becuma and Art. One day Becuma challenged Art to a game of chess, and having won the game she gave him the following forfeit:

"I bind you," said Becuma, "to eat no food in Ireland until you have found Delvcaem, the daughter of Morgan."

"Where do I look for her?" said Art in despair.

"She is in one of the islands of the sea," Becuma replied, "that is all I will tell you."

And so we will leave them there, for today. In my next post, I will share the rest of the story and then we can begin looking at what I think it means, and how we can use the information.

Continue to part 2 - Art's Quest

You can now buy this three part series of posts  (The Beach) in a newly edited version, along with my allegorical short story The Story Shawl, and a new poem about the goddess Macha. All in this beautifully illustrated chapbook entitled Mythology.

See product page for more information.

Mythology
$
8.00    

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The Freedom of Gulls

17/4/2013

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A look at the Gull card in the Go Deeper oracle

When I lived in Edinburgh, I used to love waking up to the raucous (and extremely loud) cries of the chimney pot gulls that perched and nested on the 3-4 storey tenement buildings that make up so many of Edinburgh's streets. The echo created by the narrow paved streets, stone buildings and slate roofs amplified their laughing cries to a window rattling volume totally unlike anything you hear at the sea shore.

Of course, there was a down side. The city organised its rubbish collection via plastic bags picked up by the council bin men and in some areas the gulls made quite a mess ripping these open to extract the contents before the bags could be collected. The birds also sometimes nested on roofs, and became territorial about the ground level space around their nest area. In one house I lived in, we had a gull's nest on the roof, and it was not unusual to hear the rush of air as this bird flew within inches of my head as I got in and out of my car in the driveway.

As far as these birds are concerned, the world belongs to them. They require cliffs on which to nest and raise their young, and a good source of food nearby. They don't worry about natural vs unnatural or who the cliffs belong to. These things are for everybody, right? It's just a question of boldly taking what you want!

gull, chimney pot, oracle card
Gull - A free spirit. A laughing intruder.

Another inhabitant of my world in Edinburgh was my friend Jonathon (yeah, that wasn't really his name). He was also a free spirit. He was a musician of the highest calibre. I'm sure that Jonathon possessed a piece of the Dagda's harp within his soul -- for he was one of those rare musicians who could cause his listeners to laugh, cry, dance, fight or be lulled into sleep with his music. Being a musician myself, I enjoyed his friendship very much, and we also enjoyed a similar, taboo-free, sense of humour that is rare to find.

Of course, there was a down side. Jonathon was one of the most irresponsible people I have ever known. He was the house guest from hell. He drank too much, smoked too much, messed up people's houses, seduced their wives if he could, and was difficult to get rid of when you got tired of him. He got barred from pubs as routinely as other people do their washing. He had a home to go to, but that wasn't nearly as much fun! Most of us put up with this, to whatever degree our patience allowed, because of his talent, because he was a lot of fun, and occasionally because it was just easier than the alternative.

The good people of Edinburgh were often up in arms about those annoying gulls, and various plots were hatched to get rid of them, but I always found myself siding with those noisy, messy creatures. They weren't very good neighbours, admittedly, but their wild laughter and free spirited approach to life filled my heart. I can be shy, reserved and overly cautious much of the time, but I see that the world needs wild freedom, too. Wild freedom rarely has much regard for the comfort of others. It stirs things up, it makes a lot of noise, and messes up our tidy lives.

I believe that having contact with free spirits is good for us on several levels. It teaches us to loosen up, to have a good time and stay up late and have some fun once in awhile, even though it's Tuesday. It teaches us that we can't control the behaviour of others all the time, and that we don't always need to. It teaches us that we can find creative strategies to protect our territory sometimes, and that we'd better learn to live with it when we can't.

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Rooks - it's a tribal thing

14/4/2013

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Rooks - Intelligence, communication and problem solving come naturally. The society of the tribe is important, and the individual flourishes within it. Loss of these qualities brings ill. Change and death may be frightening, but can also be foreseen, and guidance found to pass through.
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rooks
Photo by foxypar4

Rooks are monogamous birds who live in a close knit but rather casually organised society, in colonies known as rookeries. The males are great fathers and mates. The picture above shows an adult male and a youngster spending time together. Rooks  look very similar to crows, and there is an old adage "A rook on his own be a crow, and a group of crows be rooks" which drives home their tendency to be in groups with their own kind. The Rook card says to me that you can find your domestic bliss, and that it will be within a wider supportive "tribe". The intelligence of the crow family is well known, as is its relationship to death (or change) both as a harbinger and a guide.

Ravens and other covids are often associated with death in literature and popular culture. Because of this, some people find them "creepy" or "evil". Nothing could be further from the truth, and it's also worth remembering that (just like the "Death" card in Tarot) death is most often a symbol of change and letting go of the past.  Rooks, seems very positive to me. Intelligence and the support of a wider group are good keys to success. Problem solving abilities, and the resources to deal with change or loss are also to the fore. Learn to recognise and appreciate this big supportive family when it presents itself in your life. Going it alone doesn't seem to be the way to go here. Intelligence - either your own or that of others - will play an important part in this, and should be valued. There is a wider "family" that you belong to. Stay a part of this and you will be nurtured and encouraged to find yourself

The Rook way of living as a society is very beneficial to the individual. It allows for self expression and change to happen with friendly guidance. "Loss of these qualities brings ill." Is this significant for you?

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like One for sorrow, two for joy - a post about magpies.

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Taming The Black Pony

10/4/2013

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Black Pony - A relationship may be frustrating for both parties. What appears wild and untameable should sometimes be left so. Tact and great patience will be required to avoid loss of dignity.  When an oracle card has a meaning or definition that long, you know you are looking at some deep layers of complexity. (I will also add a disclaimer here, for those who know me, that this card doesn't refer to either of the flesh-and-blood black ponies I happen to own, so if you know them, or stories about them, don't muddy the waters by adding them to the pot.)
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Fell pony, oracle card, black pony
This card is about making wise decisions. I've been around horses for years. Mostly around recreational riding. I've helped out in riding schools, run a livery/boarding facility and been deeply involved with natural horsemanship. If you have been around those parts of the horse/human world you will have seen the following all-too-common scenario. Someone buys a horse. Often their first horse, and things just don't go to plan. Many people have chosen a horse that is just not  "right" for them. They've been seduced by beauty, athletic ability, hard luck stories, dreams of glory, pity and sometimes downright lies. Some get seriously injured, but thousands more just get frustrated, demoralised and impoverished without having much fun. Often they find, even if they can already ride, that they can't control their horse, or that they feel afraid of it, even if the horse is behaving pretty well. Or perhaps they choose a wild, young, or otherwise untrained horse, and simply find that they are out of their depth.
You'd wonder why anyone would ever want to own a horse at all, but they are so beautiful, so seductive and iconic. They are enormous fun to ride when things are going well. Like other domestic animals, there are also plenty who are "in trouble" and need rescuing in one way or another, and that is a very strong pull for some people - especially when horses are so, well, you know - beautiful and iconic, etc. etc. On the flip side, in most cases where the human isn't coping with having a horse, their horse is not having a great time, either. It may suffer from neglect or even abuse (there are a thousand kinds of unintentional neglect or abuse which befall horses) or may be afraid of the owner, or very confused about what it is being asked to do.  It may simply be dying of boredom...
You may be getting an inkling of how all of this can be a metaphor for projects, and even relationships, that we find ourselves drawn to. I've mostly talked about the negative aspects of having a horse, here, but of course there are many potential positives, too, for both horses and humans. A successful horse/human partnership is a wonderful thing, where both parties are getting what they need, feel a strong sense of purpose, have fun, and find their lives enhanced. They are both happier and healthier as a result.
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None of us has perfect judgement, and there is no universal formula for making right decisions. Many projects we look at are fairly safe bets. Either it's pretty obvious that we can get the job done, or it's something where nobody will get hurt if we don't. Then there is wild horse taming. If you're going to try that, I suggest that you take a long look at your skills and other resources. A long honest look. A long, well-researched, honest look. Then I suggest you take a long look at who might get hurt, and please don't forget the horse, or yourself, or your family - and I'm not just talking about physical injury here. Emotional and even spiritual damage is very real.
One horseman, Pat Parelli, has a very useful list, called "The Seven Keys to Success". The list is his, the comments in brackets are my own.
1 Attitude
    (Positive? Persistent? Forgiving? Passionate?)
2 Knowledge
    (Education? Training? Experience?)
3 Tools
    (Have you thought about all the "stuff" you're going to need for this project? Do you understand the difference between great tools and poor ones?)
4 Techniques
    (Can you physically carry out what you "know"? Do you have lots of options up your sleeve for when the first  thing you try doesn't work?)
5 Time
    (Not only the time to devote to the project now, but the willingness to be patient when other parties get stuck, and to keep on giving your time a long way into the future.)
6 Imagination
    (When you run out of options, can you figure out more options?)
7 Support
    (Someone to fill in for you? Someone more experienced than you? Professional help available? Emotional support of family and friends?)
I've found this to be a pretty good guide for getting things done in life, and a pretty good way to assess what I can do, and what I might be wise to leave alone. Even if you don't use this exact criteria, this is the type of thinking that the Black Pony card is urging you to apply to this crazy thing you're considering. There is no doubt that sometimes being strong on Attitude or Time can compensate for a lack of Support or Knowledge, etc. However, if you are in doubt about whether to go into something big, that doubt alone is a little warning flag, isn't it? Few of us naturally assess our abilities accurately. We either believe that we can do anything we are passionate about (or can afford, or that we can fake it a little, or whatever) or we are the type to have low expectations of ourselves, when we could actually do more than we realise. Either way, an honest inventory of what is needed and what we actually have, is going to get us closer to the truth.
What about following your heart? Fair question! I am actually a great believer in following your heart. Remember that this post is really about the Black Pony oracle card, and its meaning. So if you see this card in a reading, then I believe it is definitely directing you to consider the question from these practical angles. Even then, passion is definitely an aspect of "attitude" and is worth including in the calculations!


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Meeting Rhiannon in May
Come and join me for a half-day workshop about the goddess Rhiannon, and how Her story connects her to May Day (Calan Mai or Bealltainn). I'll be talking about Her story in The Mabinogi, about some special May Day traditions of SW England which might relate to the veneration of a horse goddess, and much more.

For more information, or to register, please visit this link.

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Food and the Sacred Soul

4/4/2013

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This piece was published on The Magickal Harvest blog last week as part of a blog trade. Here it is, for those of you who missed it.
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I have never doubted for a moment that animals have souls. However, what we should do about that, is such a complex question that it's easy to see why both religious and secular wings of the establishment have long preferred to either deny or cast doubt on the question. It's not the place of this piece to enter too deeply into the definition of what the soul might be.  Mirriam Webster's first definition is a pretty good one to be going forward with: "the immaterial essence, animating principle, or actuating cause of an individual life" Further down the list were two more that I particularly liked: "the spiritual principle embodied in human beings, all rational and spiritual beings, or the universe" and  "the quality that arouses emotion and sentiment"

Every once in awhile, a popular scientific periodical seems to run an article with a headline like "Scientists Find That Animals Actually Feel Love and Affection" or "Animals Have Emotions After All, Say Researchers". In the words of a no nonsense engineer I know "Geez! They'll be discovering steam power next!" and yet I'm always surprised to find animal loving friends sharing things like this on the internet, as if just one more half baked piece of pseudo-science will lend weight to what we all know in the first place! However, don't forget that it wasn't so long ago that there was a near consensus in the so-called scientific community that animals did not, in fact, even feel pain, and there are still those who try to hang on to this notion, either completely, or who say that "Okay, they feel physical pain, but they lack the same emotional associations (fear of death or incapacity, fear that the pain won't stop, etc.) and this is frequently tied in with the idea that animals don't really suffer in unpleasant or unnatural situations either. I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir on these points, but at the same time it's when we come to the realisation that animals probably experience unpleasantness in a similar way to humans, and that they probably do have souls (whatever a soul is) that things start to get really difficult.

The trouble is, that most people who believe that there is such a thing as a soul, would also say that the soul is in some way sacred - and if the soul is sacred, the question of the body which contains it also being sacred has to arise, for if we cause suffering to the body, we probably cause suffering to the soul, and if we kill the body, perhaps we make the soul homeless, or kill it, too. It depends on what you believe, and it's easy to see why it has been easier for people in cultures which keep animals in captivity for their own use, to just say "Animals are not like us, so this is okay." Now, this is where things get really tricky. Let's say that we're agreed that animals do have souls and emotions a lot like ours. We could easily be headed for an enormous guilt trip. Some people deal with this by becoming vegans or working for animal liberation, and I'm not going to descry that at all.  Most of us are in a kind of partial guilt/partial denial place, though, and it's really this I want to talk about.

Is there a hierarchy of souls? Is the soul of an animal whose species is endangered more valuable than than of an alley cat? Is a human's soul of more importance than that of a bug? Should the cute, the pregnant or the seemingly noble be given extra points? Somehow, I doubt it, and this is why I personally give much greater importance to ending or averting suffering than I do to preserving life. That goes for humans and animals. Don't get me wrong, I don't view the ending of a life as nothing, but I do believe that life is a circle and death will be followed by rebirth in one form or another. I don't believe that death is the end, but I am absolutely sure that it is inevitable! Suffering, on the other hand, is a dirty business. Not only is the sufferer in some degree of misery, but that suffering besmirches all who contribute to it or who come into contact with it.

So now, let us step toward the dining table. Rather than starting with a big plate of guilt, or even denial, let's think about how we can nourish our body in mindfulness of other souls. When I eat meat, I try always to be mindful of the soul of the animal whose body I eat. That is a start. I also am mindful of the life that animal led, from birth to death, and I believe that it is my duty as a fellow traveller in this world, to know, if possible, whether that animal was kept in a life of misery. For that reason, I don't eat meat unless I feel pretty sure that the animal had a good quality of life. The result is I don't eat much meat, and at the same time I enjoy the meat I eat. Sadly, I love dairy, and knowing what I do about the commercial dairy industry in the US, I know I will have to change that next. (Time to learn to make my own cheese!) That said, though, I believe that we can easily get too hung up on images of cute calves, miserable pigs in restrictive crates, and other horrors, and forget the suffering that is caused to our fellow human and animal travellers by the way crops are grown and the way that food is manufactured and marketed to us. This is important, too. Was the Kenyan farm worker who picked those baby vegetables paid a living wage? How did the illegal field worker who hoed that melon field live while he sent most of his earnings back home to Mexico? What about the Walmart employee who is struggling on food stamps while they stack the shelves with your incredible bargains? Yeah, when you look at it like that, it's a tough call. Of course, you may say that those people have a choice, whereas the animals don't. Perhaps, but they don't always feel that they have a choice, so we might like to ask ourselves what we can do to change that a little.
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So now we look at that dining table again, and it has become very fraught with worry for those of us who want to be ethical. Adding to your worry is not my intention, and neither is it my intention to trivialise the suffering of a single soul who contributed to your feast. If you are thinking about things like this, you are on a frontier of evolved thinking. It's a scary place at times, but when we are on a frontier, it never hurts to stop and look back, and look around, and try to gain a little perspective. Everything we do. Everything. Has implications. One of the first things we need to do is cut ourselves a little slack, for causing suffering in yourself probably isn't any better in the universal scheme of things than torturing chickens. As fellow travellers with animals in this world, we have ended up with a great deal of power. Remember that we all have  power to cause, and to potentially relieve, suffering in our fellow humans, too. It is a big deal, but it needn't be a heavy weight. We can only do our best. We may see changing some of our habits as arduous or unfair, or we can look at it as a great adventure and a way to feel much lighter in our own souls. Being kinder to those we meet is a form of mindfulness, being kinder in our eating habits, or our buying habits, or in how we treat the planet we all have to share - maybe these all carry equal importance. If we are not attentive in our eating habits, I do believe that it is a symptom of a lack of attention in a wider sense. However, if we eat "ethically" and then are unkind to others for making different choices, I don't think we will be helping anyone very much.
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Because we all eat, it is one good place to begin a little mindfulness. That can go both for what we eat and how we behave at the table. It can go for learning to be thankful and for learning to share. The dining table has traditionally been a place of love and hospitality. Perhaps we can reclaim is as a place to nourish our souls and our bodies, and to show love and generousity of spirit to our fellow travellers again, and it might be interesting to see how the ripples of these attentive acts can flow out and into other parts of our lives and all the lives that are touched, as a result.
My partner, Mark (who is an agnostic), and I have begun blessing our food and water, and the food and water we give to our animals. It is interesting to feel a shift in things here as we do this. That act is about sending good energy forward into those around us and what we all consume, but perhaps it is also possible to send energy outward, and backward, toward those who provided us with our food. This is about much more that the "quality" of what we put in our bodies, about more that ethical eating. It is an active and energetic recognition that all things are connected. I personally do not wish to be "self sufficient" in what I eat. How can I be? I recognise the threads which connect me to all life, and have no wish to cut these connections artificially. I would rather use the act of eating and drinking to increase my awareness of the connections.

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What is our relationship to the natural world? What is a soul? In Shapeshifters and Magical Animals we will explore stories and poems from Scotland, Ireland and Wales concerning the themes of transformation, wisdom, immortality, and time. Material will be drawn from folklore, myth, early bardic poetry, and relevant modern writers.
Shapeshifters and Magical Animals is a three week series of classes starting on April 10th, 2021.
Click here for more information.

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