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Day of the Cailleach

24/3/2019

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Cailleach by Ashley Bryner
As my regular readers know, I have spent a lot of time thinking and writing about Bride and The Cailleach in Scotland. Over the years I have learned just how rich and varied the material we have about cailleachs is, but the more I read, the more I come to the conclusion that no folklorist has really made sense of things, and it isn't something that you can do justice to in a blog post, no matter how many citations you might include.
The modern Pagan practice of talking about "The Cailleach" as if she is one entity is prone to reduce her to a sort of archetype. (Archetypes aren't my favourite approach to spirituality and I consider them something of an insult to deity.) When I started looking at what both early and modern folklorists have to say about her, not to mention modern Pagan writers, I decided that attempting an overview would be a tangled mess I don't have the patience for. One that enough writers have either struggled with or glossed over. However, I have provided a plethora of links, both in the text and at the end, in case you want to explore further. 
If Celtic mythology is fragmented and confusing, folklore is even trickier. One reason it challenges us in these times is that by its nature folklore is more localised. People have always moved around, but the scale, frequency and distance are all increasing too fast for highly localised folklore to keep up. And cailleachs tend to belong to specific points in the landscape. Does that mean that cailleachs are an endangered species? I don't know. I don't think so, but I don't claim to understand their seeming resilience, and I am uncomfortable with the idea that human belief has the power to change the essence of the gods/not gods. All I can say is that perception of cailleachs/The Cailleach is certainly changing. Where a few centuries ago she was a character who was generally respected but dreaded, she seems to be moving inexorably toward something a little more benevolent. That's easy to believe, from the comfort of a 21st century lifestyle, where winter storms are no longer a threat to life or livelihood, but I think it's a long way from the truth.
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The Paps for Jura from Islay - Brian Turner - Geograph
My first encounter with The Cailleach was in folklore concerning The Island of Jura collected by Iain Og Ile (The folklorist John Francis Campbell of Islay). These, and the stories of The Cailleach washing her plaid in the Corryvreckin whirlpool off the coast of Jura were of special interest to me because I used to frequently visit Islay, which is very close to Jura, and from which one constantly sees The Paps of Jura. Then of course there were stories of The Cailleach and Bride, so elaborately told by D. A. Mackenzie, but very likely not an original piece of folklore in the form he published. Over time I came to know more folklore connecting cailleachs to deer, the weather, creation of the landscape, and so on. I came later to know about the Irish folklore of cailleachs, and it's fascinating, too.
However, knowing folklore, even writing inspired poetry about The Cailleach and Bride has not really moved her far from the Isle of Jura for me. I am not suggesting that Jura is her one true locale, or anything like that, merely that she remains localised there for me, at least most of the time. Edinburgh, where I used to live, doesn't have much cailleach folklore that I know of. I thought I encountered her a few times in Colorado - in a mountain snowstorm, or once as I stood on the plains where I lived and watched a blizzard slowly rolling toward me.  I think to know a cailleach within a landscape, you need to be intimate with that landscape first.

Right: Cailleach figure at Samhuinn celebrations in Edinburgh - JamesIlling Wikimedia CC 4.0

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The treacherous Corryvrekin whirlpool off Jura
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The Paps of Jura - a cailleach's eye view
Most people today first encounter cailleachs on the internet. A picture of a winter hag, a well or badly written blog post, and a general assumption that all cailleachs are just facets of The Cailleach. It is in the landscape that you will find her. Or Her. The one, the many. Perhaps that is cailleach nature - to be in many landscapes. To be there whether you recognise her or not.
So what of March 25th as Latha na Caillich (Day of the Cailleach)? This date has been important as The Feast of the Annunciation or Lady Day since at least medieval times, and was even used as the first day of the legal/taxation year for several centuries in England. It is an English "quarter day", but not a Scottish one. However, it is very close to the Vernal Equinox, no matter what religion or government you recognise, and this is generally a time of heavy spring storms in coastal Britain and Ireland. If the battle between winter and spring seems to begin in February, with a mixture of warmer days and harsh storms, the the final blow-out of the equinoctial gales of late March is the end. A few days after the actual date of the equinox usually sees more settled weather, and this is probably how Lady Day came to be Latha na Caillich.
You only have to read my poem Cailleach Rant to know that I feel great admiration and respect for her. And so I will honour her today, even though I'm not entirely sure that it is particularly traditional to do so. Like others, I have a tendency to conflate different cailleach stories and to honour a figure who was traditionally only feared. In Scotland, she has always been a personification of winter storms, and perhaps now that we have stupidly overheated our world we realise that we need her. I question, though, whether she has much interest in the desires of humanity. Before you paint her as a mother goddess, know this: She has always been a misanthrope. A guardian of deer and boar, of high, wild places, a fighter for wildness, a lover of stone and ice. We could use her on our side, indeed, but we would need to be on Hers, first.

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Links
Some of these are also linked in the text above, but it seemed better to repeat them here.

Latha na Caillich A discussion of this day as a holiday from Brian Walsh

La na Caillich An in-depth look at the day from the excellent Tairis site, with many citations

Fools, Cuckoos, The Lady and The Devil - another discussion of La na Caillich, this time from Scott Richardson-Read, including citations

Cailleach folklore in John Francis Campbell's Popular Tales from the West Highlands, including the story of MacPhie and the Cailleach, set on Jura

Beira, Queen of Winter - D A Mackenzie's possibly fanciful telling of the story of Bride, Angus and The Cailleach

Bride and the Cailleach - a good exploration of their possible relationship, with many citations, at Tairis

The Cailleach, or Hag of Winter - a very interesting collection of cailleach stories from folklorist Stuart McHardy

Cailleach Beinn na Bric - translation of a Gaelic poem concerning the Cailleach, interesting for the concepts it contains.  You may need to scroll up one page for the introduction.

The Book of the Cailleach - this is a scholarly review of Gearóid Ó Crualaoich's book of the same name by folklorist John Shaw. Included because it provides an interesting discussion on Cailleach folklore in Ireland

The Witch of Jura - a brief telling of the MacPhie legend

Coming of the Cailleach in the British Isles - a mixed bag of information from Rachel Patterson

Poems for the Season of Imbolc

Imbolc always inspires me, and over the years I've written a number of poems about Brigid and the Cailleach at this time of year. This little volume features four of my favourites.


Size 8.5" x 5.5" 

16 pages


Please see product page for more information.

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8.00    

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Brigid Walks the Land. Fire Up Your Forge!

6/1/2019

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It's starting. Can you feel it? The light has already changed so obviously here in Oregon. Something is waking up in me. I am not usually depressed around MIdwinter. I love the dark and the long nights, and don't mind being alone at this time like some people do. But I have been deeply depressed recently.
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DavidBellamyArt
Yesterday morning was not the first day I noticed the change in the light, but it was the first morning that it broke through my gloom and touched me in some physical way. Got through my skin. As often happens around Imbolc, a new poem for Brigid came to me.

wind in the hair and
fire in the head
Brigid walks the land

fire up your forge!
gather your cattle
for calving
fletch your arrows
and set them alight

go to a high place
and look how
she has spread
her cloak of green fields
and brown fields

Brigid walks the land
fire up your forge!


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Bridget by Jo Dose
Yes, Imbolc is coming. We think of snowdrops, and increasing light, of Brigid and the Cailleach. Some consider it a time of ascendency for the Rowan tree. I have been wanting to share a little something about this poem, called "Song" by Seamus Heaney for awhile now.
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I love this for many reasons.  Each mention of tree and flower seems to bring the spirit of that plant to me. The red berried rowan which has associations with witchcraft and protection, the alder which so often has its feet in the water, the rushes, the immortelles - which is another name for Helichrysum, those little button-like flowers that dry so beautifully. Then there is birdsong and "mud flowers" and dialect. It's a lot in eight lines! And the music of what happens. What about that? Well, it's referencing this:
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So now you know. It's a bit Zen, isn't it? I find myself so frustrated by what is happening in our world. But I can only do what is given to me to do. Sometimes I have to accept that I am caught up in events much greater than myself, events not of my making. In the story, Stephens goes on the say that Fionn loved what happened and "would not evade it by the swerve of a hair". We spend a lot of time thinking about how to evade what might happen, not stopping to think that our energy is better spent dealing with whatever is before us. That we are better off responding to life with all the strength and beauty we can muster. That was always Fionn's way.

As the season of Imbolc comes, and Brigid walks the land, I always feel Her fiery inspiration. There is work to do.

I have recently created a chapbook of some of my other poems about Brigid and the Cailleach, written over the years. This little book is a handy size to use in rituals and devotional work.
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See product page for details.
Poems for the Season of Imbolc
$
8.00    

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First there is a mountain . . .

21/3/2013

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Thoughts about mountains and the Cailleach

This card came up as my personal daily draw recently, and I thought I would give this essay an airing on the blog - although I wrote it some time ago. It seems appropriate to the season, as many  celebrate Latha na Caillich (Day of the Cailleach) on March 25th.
Imagine standing, looking at a mountain, knowing you are going to have to climb it. Okay, for some people, mountain climbing is an enjoyable sport, but if you fall into that category, chances are you have still felt daunted by the prospect at times. Perhaps you thought "I'm afraid the weather is against me today," or "It looks scarier than it did in the guidebook," or "I wish I'd brought more rope." However, the seasoned mountain climber knows that you can only climb one step at a time, so all you can do is begin, and see whether you can do it. Very often, it's those of us who stand at the bottom making up stories to frighten ourselves, or who simply feel like we can't be bothered, who suffer the most. We are afraid of failing, afraid of falling, prefer not to leave our comfort zone, and yet, somehow we know that until we make the attempt, we are going to be a little bit miserable, knowing that it's still ahead of us.
paps of jura, mountain
The Paps of Jura- J Samara
Mountain - Resistance and perceived difficulty. The results of bad temper or anger.

In the 1960s, Donovan wrote the song There Is a Mountain, about illusion and perceived reality. The refrain went
First there is a mountain
Then there is no mountain
Then there is.
First there is a mountain
Then there is no mountain
Then there is.
The thing is - this card is about perceived difficulty. It's about our fears and our excuses, and our million and one avoidance techniques. After all - what is "difficulty" but a transient experience, a brief challenge or unpleasant period. While we can spend months, years, even an entire lifetime, sitting at the bottom of the mountain eaten up by our emotions, losing respect for ourselves, dreading it. It's enough to make us very angry.

Anger, of course, is the other aspect of this card. In Scotland in particular, and also in Ireland, many mountains have associations with a character known as the Cailleach. There is no simple tale that I can tell you, to explain the Cailleach. The stories are quite varied and often very local, and in areas where Gaelic was not the common language she is sometimes known as the "Carlin" (old woman or witch). She is also usually a giant.

As well as her associations with many high mountains, such as Ben Nevis and the Paps of Jura, the Cailleach is associated with deer, with winter and bad weather, with holding prisoners (including the goddess Bride) and other general mayhem. The very dangerous, and very real, Corryvreckan whirlpool is also hers. She may have existed in some form before the coming of the Celtic tribes, as a weather goddess, perhaps, whose story was later interwoven with the Celtic pantheon at a local level. A common theme in her stories is her anger at being old and ugly, and her desire to make others suffer, too - by keeping them in the grip of winter, by holding them prisoner, by raising storms and so on. At the same time - there are many stories telling how she created aspects of local landscapes. I guess she was able to put that anger to good use!

I believe the Cailleach, with her anger and frustration exists in all of us. The prisoners we hold are often ourselves. The anger is really aimed inward, although we may make life unpleasant for others by expressing it. The more negative aspects of the Cailleach are a great example to us of how not to live our lives - in anger and, bitterness, trying to control others and cause them trouble. We do not make things easier for ourselves with this behaviour, we just trap ourselves in a discouraging and repetitive cycle. Every time we do this, we make the mountain a little higher - or at least we think we do. 

Even if we have what looks like a mountain to climb, even if we feel we didn't  create it, even if it was created by someone else's anger or controlling behaviour, or forces of nature, none of that really matters. The Mountain is no big deal. Things probably look better, even from 100 metres up. The big deal is our perception.

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If you enjoyed this, you might also like We Need to Talk About the Cailleach.

Land Songs

A collection of eleven poems each touching on the spirit of the land. Enjoyable and challenging by turns. Love letters, eulogies, rants . . .

8.5" x 5.5"

17 pages

See product page for more information.

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Death Shall Have No Dominion

31/1/2013

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A guided meditation inspired by poetry.

For my personal daily card draw I have my meditation and prayer cards shuffled in with my oracle deck. Today, this card came up. I thought it was interesting and appropriate, with all the thinking and writing I have been doing about the Cailleach and Bride. At the winter solstice, this card felt particularly appropriate, with the short days, and so on. However, it feels equally appropriate now, at Imbolc, with its theme of the natural cycles of death and rebirth in nature and in our lives. Looking at the cycles of nature and of the seasons we can all have certainty of rebirth to come.
guided meditation, old woman
I was not aware of Dylan Thomas' poem until I heard it quoted by the great Irish writer and philosopher John Moriarty. The sound of his voice rolling the lines forth, drawing out the "o" in the word "no"  ... "They shall have stars at elbow and feet, and death shall have nooooo dominion"  was both touching and felt like a sort of wake-up call. A call to hope and faith.

John was a man who had experienced the utter demolition of his faith, but had gone on to explore what can only be described as "the meaning of life" in minute, patient detail. He did this via a process at once deeply personal and yet universal -- through immersing himself in nature to an almost hermetic degree, through exploring the mythology not only of the Irish, but of many other cultures. He emerged from this, toward the end of his life, with a spirituality of great depth and breadth -- not always easy for his readers to nail down, and yet so enriching to behold. I will write more about his work in the future.
And Death Shall Have No Dominion

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead man naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.

~ Dylan Thomas
guided meditation
Meditation and Prayer cards are available in the webshop at this link

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The Cailleach Becomes Bride

29/1/2013

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At the recent winter solstice, I heard Damh the Bard's wonderful Colloquy of the Oak and Holly Kings for the first time.  While some think of the changing of the light or of the seasons as a battle between warmth and cold or dark and light, I love how his poem acknowledges the process of gradual change. At every point in the wheel of the year which we mark as important, I see it more as a day to pause and take note of the changes that are ongoing, or a day to take heart, knowing that they will occur. Winter and spring need not always be seen as enemies. They are also partners, who each have their part in turning the wheel. This poem came to me at Imbolc two years ago. I hope you enjoy it!
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The Cailleach Becomes Bride

Bleak.
Cold
and silence.
Iron hard ground
The roiling sea that blasts the cliffs
under a sky of nothingness

The frosted stone
the frozen grass
useless for fodder
under the feet
of tired and haggard sheep

They say I am wise
with the wisdom perhaps
of the migration of reindeer
who scrape the moss
the runes of twigs
the raven who finds her morsel
and the lynx
who waits it out


cailleach
But I can yet dance
Climb the trees
laugh
and raise a wind
to throw last years leaves
into a dervish circle

I can tease a gentler climate
up the valley
to moisten the loins
bring thoughts of some lustier dame
Only to tumble you
onto the ice
What were we thinking!

I cackle again from the treetops
raising a storm that sends the cattle
lowing and bucking in indignation
from sleet like knives
to the shelter of the dyke
The ponies
lower their heads to the ground
tails plastered to their legs

I will jig and reel down the beach
entangled in seaweed
Enraged
I will blast your windows
and tear your thatch
You must regard me!
I will rip your hat off
slap your face
and make you look at death squarely
We must discuss this
however briefly

Snow
soft and moist
as the blanket of a newborn
Quietly coddling
the first snowdrops
the brightness
of a candle

Like a maiden
with the gentle blandness
of purity
Yet knowing
She dances
under the peaceful
painted snow
the dance
of the quickening seed

The crocus flung up purple
like trying Mother's hat
discarded in the naked               dance
of further flurries
and the Cailleach's blood
running in her veins
like the burn in spate

Dancing mad as a hare
across the lawn
like a tumble of kittens
that run
spraddle legged
on their first jaunts
or the wonder of lambs
put to pasture
flinging out a highland leg

Increasing now
in quiet knowing
in the naming of each flower
in its successive season
their buds waiting
in her small womb
where the Cailleach nestles
against her backbone

Dreaming


 - Kris Hughes 2011
spring maiden
























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Cailleach painting by Mairin-Taj Caya     Girl with Flowers painting by Belmourida
Poems for the Season of Imbolc
Poems for the Season of Imbolc
$
8.00    
"Some of the most amazing pagan poetry I’ve ever been blessed to encounter."                                -
              - Sharon Paice MacLeod, author of Celtic Cosmology and the Otherworld, and The Divine Feminine in Ancient Europe


At Imbolc, Brigid, the goddess of poetic inspiration, walks the land.
These poems were composed over many years, and under the influence of different folkloric ideas – particularly that of the juxtaposition of Brigid  and the Cailleach.

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