It’s almost Samhain and magick is in the air! During this time of year I re-bless and add to
the altar I have dedicated to the Morrigan. So to celebrate one of the Morrigan’s most
sacred nights I thought it would be fun to have an altar contest. You can enter by going to my facebook page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Celtic-Lore-and-Spellcraft-of-the-Dark-Goddess-Invoking-the-Morrigan/216279705149670?ref=hl#!/pages/Stephanie-Woodfield/262507577096053 and replying to the contest thread with a picture of your altar dedicated to the
Great Queen or a Samhain altar dedicated to Her by Nov. 5th. The winner will receive a signed copy of
Celtic Lore and Spellcraft of the Dark Goddess: Invoking the Morrigan!
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Little Something...
Just a little something that came to me while meditating today. I normally don't include Nemain in Her trio (usually seeing her as Anu/Macha/Badb) but feeling Nemain pulling at me and trying to get my attention lately....
I am the Morrigu,
Anu the bringer of life,
Anu the bringer of life,
Nemain the sword that sweeps it away,
Macha the seed in the soil,
I am strength when there is no strength,
I am valor where there is only dishonor,
It is my path you must trace,
Down, down through the dark,
Down to the heart of all things,
Until you accept my embrace there is no peace...
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
A Walk in the Woods...
It is silent as I enter the woods. A single golden leaf spirals silently to the ground, landing at my feet. The air is chill and I pause and take a moment to breathe, to center my being, and fill my lungs with the scents of autumn. I breathe in again and become aware of the earth beneath my feet, feel the breath of the land spiral upward through my legs and fill my body. Silently I send a prayer to the Morrigan and Cernunnos, gods of the dark rich soil, and begin my journey.....
Had an interesting experience while out hiking today. For me hiking is a kind of combination workout (the trails I go on are part of the Appalachian Trail, and trust me going up and down a mountain, even a small one, works up a sweat) and meditative/spiritual experience. I can exercise my body and connect with nature all at once. At times hiking becomes a kind of walking meditate, just as those who meditate while walking the path of a labyrinth. I always begin with a silent prayer. It could be for guidance, to ask the Gods for a sign, or simply to thank them for this day, this moment of being alive. About halfway through the trail I came across a deer. It appeared out of nowhere, one minute I was alone the next the doe was just here. Usually they will run away immediately but this one simply stood watching me. After a few moments I slowly walked further down the path towards the doe. We stood just a few feet apart quietly watching one another. Then above us a crow called out. It flew past us then circles to perch in a tree behind the doe. In that moment I could feel the presence of the Morrigan and Cernunnos fill and radiate through me. There were no divine revelations, no epiphanies, just a beautiful sense of connection. A moment later another hiker came down the trail and the doe startled ran into the brush, and the magick of the moment was broken. While I connect with the divine during ritual it is moments like this that I love the most. To truly live our spirituality, to truly be Seekers, we must learn to find the Gods both during the dance of ritual and when we are dripping sweating on an ordinary autumn day.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Lughnasadh
In honor of Lughnasadh here is an invocation calling upon Macha, who most likely raced against the kings horses on this festival. Macha speaks to us both of sacrifice and harvest. Her sacrifice brings new life, from the birth of her twins as she wins the race, yet she is also a Goddess connected to death and endings. What lessons have you harvested? Sacrifice what is no longer needed to Macha, and me mindful of what you wish to manifest in the days to come.
Macha Invocation
Macha,
Sovereign, Warrior,
Queen,
Hoof beats echoing on the
ground
Unbridled, untamed,
Fiery one of the Sun,
Mistress of all things
growing and green
Crow Goddess
Predictions and omens on
thy tongue
Your crop the masts of
battle
All warriors in the end
must give you your due
Macha, I give you honor
As the men of Ulster
would not do
I call to thee Macha,
Mare Mother, Lady of
Horses
I call to thee Macha,
Crow Goddess, Queen of
Battle
I call to you thee Macha,
Sovereign who blesses and
keeps the land
I call to thee Macha
Bless me this Lughnasadh
day!
© Stephanie Woodfield
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Sunburn, odd coincidences, and Irish faery Goddesses...
This post started
out as a promise or to be more specific a desperate prayer. This past weekend I spent the day at Jones Beach
(which was a lot of fun!) But despite
being half Greek, my Irish half has given me very fair skin, skin which after
we drove home from the ocean decided to let me know how much it didn’t like
being out in the sun. At first I just
turned lobster red, which was to be expected.
I don’t tan I burn like a vampire “meeting the sun” with a death wish. Then the next day my entire face swelled, despite
all the sun screen I had used, then the next day it swelled even more. And I mean SWELLED, I didn’t look like the
same person. Kind of apropo while I’m
writing about the destructive side of certain sun Goddesses, but still not fun. It’s also not the best thing that could have
happened on July 4th when all the doctor’s offices are closed. So I desperately called every doctor I could
find, only to find they were closed. Frustrated,
swollen, and not happy, I was about to give up.
I closed my eyes took a deep breathe and sent a silent plea to the
Goddess. I took another deep breathe and
decided to call one more doctor. I
scrolled down on the screen and looked at the name. Dr. Fand.
Well wasn’t that odd, a doctor named after a Irish Goddess. I immediately thought of the faery queen who
took the hero Cuchulain as he lover. I
silently sent a prayer out the Fand, if this doctor was open I’d write
something about her and spend the week working with Her, letting myself be open
to whatever it was she wished to teach me.
It’s not every day you come across a doctor with the name of Goddess, or
one that pronounces it the same way. At
very least it was an odd coincidence, and I don’t believe in coincides. I dialed the doctor’s number, and a human
being, not and answering machine, picked up on the other end. So as I have burn cream slathered on my face
I have Fand on my mind. More to come on
her soon, but for tonight I think it will suffice to light a candle and burn
some incense as thanks.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Beltane
It’s almost Beltane, a time of passion and renewed light and warmth. This Beltane sovereignty has been on my mine a lot. Beltane is a time of beginnings, a time of blooming before the fullness of summer, and the perfect time to claim our own inner sovereignty.
Take a moment to think of an aspect in your life that needs reclaiming. See the Morrigan standing before you, she placed her hands upon your shoulders and fills you with strength, she wraps around you a regal cloak. Know the Great Queen lives within you, claim sovereignty over your life, your destiny, your happiness, your creativity, etc. Take a cleansing breathe and say:
“Great Queen guide us this day toward inner sovereignty and self-mastery.
Crown us with the knowledge of self, and the power to forge our own destinies in life”
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Morrigan and the Nine Thieves
They made their way to the mound as darkness fell. Within the horseshoe of stones they could see the hag hunched over her fire, the hot flames licking the prize they sought. It towered over the old woman, nine pieces of iron linked together. On one end a hunk of red raw meat, in the center a hunk of dressed meat, and on the far end a wedge of butter. It might have been the cooking fire of any poor herdsman or farmer, and not a Goddess. But the thieves knew that food from this cooking fire was unending. No matter how much a man ate more appeared, and to eat from it was to gain the wisdom of the Morrigu, the raven mother, lady of battles.
The boldest of the thieves crept closer, not noticing the old crone tilt her wrinkled head as if listening to the wind. Closer now he saw the woman’s eyes were glazed over, blind. Her hands curled and knobby with age. Taking such a magickal treasure should be a simple task. But as the man reached out, hand ready to claim his prize the woman spun towards him and stood. The woman who looked at him now was not the hobbled old hag, she stood talk and imposing, her dark raven hair billowing in a wind in an unearthly wind, her limbs young and strong, her face terrible and unimaginably beautiful all at once. He coward, unable to move in the presence of such a being. “If you had only asked Me for my treasure I would have freely given it, but instead you approached me as an outlaw in the night.” she said. Her voice was as sweet as the notes of a harp, as harsh as the cry of ravens upon the battlefield.
Slowly the Morrigu raised the spit form the fire, with the end still hot from the fire she prodded the foolish thief in the side. The pain of his burning flesh startled him into action, leaping to his feet he fled down the mound, his companions following behind. The woman smiled to herself, calling after the thieves she said. “Let your brand be a reminder of Me, and that my wisdom cannot be stolen, only earned!”
Symbols of the Morrigan
Symbols are important, they speak to us on a primal level. They embody the essence, character, and mysteries of a deity. In our worship, whether it be designing a ritual or creating an altar, we use them to further our connection to deity and to draw upon their power.
Many of the Morrigan’s symbols we already know. Crows, ravens, cattle and horses being the most well known. As a Goddess connected with death ,skulls (animal or otherwise) are also a popular symbol connected to Her, as well as the cauldron (such as the one Badb stirs) representing transformation and rebirth. I would add the torc to that list, as I often use it in rituals dedicated to the Morrigan as a Goddess of sovereignty.
But one symbols in particular that is connected to the Great Queen in her myths is often overlooked, the Morrigan’s cooking spit. At first this seems like an odd symbol to connect with the Morrigan, but it appears several times in her mythology. This magickal cooking spit was said to hold three types of food on it, a piece of raw meat, a piece of dresses meat and butter. In Gods and Fighting Men Lady Gregory recounts a story in which nine outlaws beseech the Morrigan for the spit (or steal it from her). The spit could be broken down into nine pieces and each man carried a section of it during the day, while at night they gathered together to reassemble it.
“As to the Morrigu, the Great Queen, the Crow of Battle, where she lived after the coming of the Gael is not known, but before that time it was in Teamhair she lived. And she had a great cooking-spit there, that held three sorts of food on it at the one time: a piece of raw meat, and a piece of dressed meat, and a piece of butter. And the raw was dressed, and the dressed was not burned, and the butter did not melt, and the three together on the spit.
Nine men that were outlaws went to her one time and asked for a spit to be made for themselves. And they brought it away with them, and it had nine ribs in it, and every one of the outlaws would carry a rib in his hand wherever he would go, till they would all meet together at the close of day. And if they wanted the spit to be high, it could be raised to a man’s height, and at another time it would not be more than the height of a fist over the fire, without breaking and without lessening.” (Gregory, Gods and Fighting Men)
The spit appears again in her interaction with the hero Cúchulain. Before Cúchulain’s final battle the Morrigan appears to him along a roadside as a hag cooking dog flesh on a cooking spit. There are several versions of this encounter and how she tricked him into eating the flesh of his namesake, the dog. In one she attacks the hero with the spit, perhaps to goad him into taking action.
The Triads of Ireland (number 120) makes mention of the three appliances of a blacksmith, which are "Three things constitute a blacksmith, Nethin's spit, the cooking-hearth of the Morrigan, the Dagda's anvil." In County Tipperary we find a fulachtas mound called by the same name, Fulacht na Mór Ríoghna or “The Cooking Pit of the Mórrígan”. Fulachtas (FULL-ahk FEE-add) or burnt mounds are found throughout Ireland, England, and even Scotland. They are low horseshoe shaped mounds with a depression in the center, accompanied by heat shattered stones and charcoal enriched soil. It is uncertain exactly what purpose they served but it is generally believed that they were used as outdoor cooking areas.
Who exactly these outlaws are is debatable. Rouge warriors? Thieves? And why does she give such a magickal item to them? Why does she use the spit to attack Cúchulain? Some have suggested that the spit and its unending supply of food represent the Morrigan’s function as a fertility goddess. Dagda who is also connected to fertility and abundance possesses a similar spit. But the fact that Morrigan uses this magickal tool as a weapon should also not be overlooked. She uses it to prod Cúchulain into action, into accepting his destiny and the path he has chosen for himself. The Great Queens lessons are often hard, and it does seem a fitting tool for her. She is using a proverbial cattle prod to get us off our spiritual butts. And in truth sometimes we need this. All too often we are afraid to take those crucial steps forward in our spiritual development, or to move forward in our lives.
The items on the cooking pit are intriguing. The raw meat, the dressed meat and butter may symbolize abundance, as they are constantly replenished. Another interpretation could be that they represent the stages of transformation, the raw meat being a state of raw beginning, the dressed meat the process of learning, and the butter transformation or attainment of knowledge. That the spit brakes down into nine pieces is also no surprise, as the number nine is connected to the Morrigan several times, again hinting at a connection to transformation. Eating or drinking from magickal items, or eating the flesh of magickal animals is often a vehicle of attaining wisdom in Celtic myths. Drinking from holy wells, eating the Salmon of Wisdom, were all ways to attain such wisdom. In other stories gods or spirits shape shift into animals and are swallowed (usually as flies), their spirits entering an unsuspecting woman in this manner and the god then reincarnated as the child of the mortal. Etain is reborn in this manner, she is transformed into a beautiful fly which is swallowed by a mortal queen who soon becomes pregnant with the Goddess’s mortal incantation. Morrigan’s spit and the food on it may have had a similar function, granting wisdom, or another of the Morrigan’s attributes, to those who ate from it.
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