A Samhain Blessing for the Dead

 

Wishing all a merry and magickal Samhain!  Tonight we honoring the dead and our ancestors.  To honor and welcome those who have gone before light a candle and say:

 

“For all those who have gone before,

Who dwell upon that farthest shore,

 

To you we drink and pray this night,

To you we call without fear,

Your voices again we would hear”

 

-Blessing of the Phantom Queen and blessed Samhain all!

 

 

Gwyn ap Nudd on Samhain

                             

 

 

                                  Gwyn ap Nudd on Samhain

   The hounds whine and nip anxiously at the mare’s feet.  She knickers at them and pounds pale hooves against the cold ground, impatient as the hounds for the hunt.  Deep within the mound we wait, silent as the grave, for the last lingering strands of day light to vanish, for darkness to fall and the doorways between this world and that other place to open, to swing wide for the Host of Gwyn ap Nudd.  It has been so long since last we rode, and I find am as eager as the hounds to step upon mortal soil once more.

   And then I feel it.  As gentle as a lovers caress the veil moves past us, parting for a single night, and we are off.  Hooves and claws and cloven feet touch the soft greenery of the mound momentarily, before taking to the sky.  Below me the pale mare moves like lightning, her milky eyes long since blind, look back at me with another sort of sight.  Behind me I hear the calls and shrieking of the Host and smile.  Some ride skeletal mounts, others beings with wings and scales, and yet others creature to horrible to describe.  It is the night of the dead, and we will hunt and feast on the souls of the wicked.  And when we’ve had our fill the just and brave we will gather.  Across battlefields we fly, atop steeples and grave stones we alight.   A choice to be made, join our ranks, turn spirit to faery flesh, live again, or be ferried beyond this world to everlasting rest.  So if you hear our howling on the wind as we ride a’ hunting, do not tarry.  Whisper a prayer to Gwyn ap Nudd and lend your thoughts towards living well, for all must bow down to the god of death one day.  But will you be my quarry, a rabbit for my hounds to rend and chase?  Or will you ride on the winds with me, wild and free.... 

Samhain Book Contest!

 

 

 

   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. 5^th.  The winner will receive a signed copy of Celtic Lore and Spellcraft of the Dark Goddess: Invoking the Morrigan!

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,

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...

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.

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

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 4^th 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.