My Old Fashioned Herbs – Sweet Woodruff (Galium oderatum syn. Asperula oderata)

This little British native ground-cover herb has rapidly spread itself around my peonies and lilac tree, with its tiny white flowers and starry whorls of leaves.  It is called sweet woodruff, and though the fresh leaves don’t have a scent, the dried leaves smell of new mown hay. This is probably why they were associated with St Barnabas, whose feast day on 11 June was when when haysel (haymaking) traditionally began, and the saint is often pictured carrying a hay rake: Barnaby bright, Barnaby bright/ Light all day and light all night. 

The generic name comes from the Greek word gala meaning ‘milk’, because a special of this plant was once used for curdling milk, but the second part of its name,  odoratum, is Latin for ‘fragrant’. Its French name, musc de bois, translates as ‘wood musk’. Even today, extracts of sweet woodruff are used in perfumes. The lovely scent of the dried plant was also responsible for many of its uses in the past – as a strewing herb, scattered among linen (where it also deters insects and moths), hung in garlands and used as potpourri, as well as for stuffing mattresses and pillows; legend even had it that the Virgin Mary made her bed from it. The sweet scent comes from the essential oil coumarin, contained in the leaves. Do try hanging it in your wardrobe, or putting sachets of the dried herb in your linen closet to deter moths, and it makes a fragrant, soporific herb pillow. In potpourri it will sweetly scent any room. The dried leaves placed in enclosed bookcases or between the pages of books will prevent a musty odour developing in them. Woodruff is used in incenses because of its own pleasant, joyful smell and because of its ability to fix other scents.

During the Middle Ages it was commonly used in herbal medicine, applied to wounds and cuts, or taken internally for digestive complaints.  Herbalists today may use it for its tonic, diuretic and anti-inflammatory effects. A tea of the leaves and flowers is calming and sedative, and may help insomnia and nervous tension. The coumarin contained in the dried plant acts to prevent the clotting of blood, and the plant is grown commercially to make an anticoagulant drug. The plant is harvested just before or as it comes into flower and can be dried for later use.

The plant is edible, and in Germany it is used to flavour May Bowl (I gave the recipe for this in a previous post), but it can also be used to flavour punches, liqueurs, beers, brandy jam and ice cream, or infuse the leaves as a calming herbal tea. A fragrant and delicious tea is made from the green-dried leaves and flowers. Slightly wilted leaves are used, the tea has a fresh, grassy flavour. The sweet-scented flowers are eaten or used as a garnish.

A red dye is obtained from the root. Soft-tan and grey-green dyes are obtained from the stems and leaves.

It is said to be lucky to carry woodruff leaves, and will bring victory, reward and prosperity.

CAUTION: The plant is generally considered safe in food amounts. It is generally safe when used in medicinal amounts in the short term, but must not be taken longer term in or excessive amounts,  or it may cause headaches, dizziness, blackouts, and possibly liver damage. The FDA has banned it for use in herbal remedies to be taken internally but specifically clears it for use when properly prepared as an additive to wine. Avoid if you are taking medicine for circulatory problems or have bleeding disorders as sweet woodruff contains certain chemicals that might slow blood clotting, and might increase bruising and bleeding in people with bleeding disorders. Also avoid for two weeks before surgery. Avoid if you are pregnant.

© Anna Franklin, 20.5.20

Witchcraft – The Way of the Mighty Dead

“…you shall be taught to be wise, that in the fullness of time you shall count yourself among those who serve the Gods, among those who belong to the Craft, among those who are called the Mighty Dead. Let thy life, and the life to come, be in the service of our noble Lady and her gentle Lord.”

Witchcraft is often called ‘The Crooked Path’, because it is the path of the outsider. Witches were driven out of society, cloaked in the garb of otherness.  While historical druids were an elite class of men, pillars of the establishment, the historical witch was always an outsider, the despised or excluded person who threatened the established order and – of all the most dreadful things imaginable – usually a woman with power in a world where women were often otherwise powerless.

In the past, the Church saw witches as the antithesis of what a woman should be – meek, subservient, industrious and obedient (and some Christian traditions still maintain this). Any woman who was a free-spirits independent and sexually active must be a witch.  During the times of witchcraft persecution- the days we call The Burning Times – it is estimated that 50,000 to 100,000 people were executed, 80% of them women.

In 1484, in response to reports that many women were engaging in sorcery “to make the conjugal act impossible”, Pope Innocent VIII appointed two German Dominicans, Jakov Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer, to pursue witches. They wrote the infamous Malleus Maleficarum, which means “Hammer of Evil Doers” or “Hammer of the Witches”. So popular was their book that it ran into nineteen editions and was a principle text for the Inquisition.

They wrote that “woman is an imperfect animal, and always deceives….

In Christian lore, women are responsible for the fall of humankind and its expulsion from paradise, since Eve was tempted to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge and persuaded her husband Adam to do the same.[i]

For the Christian thinker, God is male, and thus the only true gender is male.[ii] From the very beginning, they argued that women were inferior to men, as Eve was made from Adam’s spare rib, and being formed by a bent rib she was naturally flawed.

Saint Thomas Aquinas wrote “Every girl child is a defective male, conceived only because her father was ill, weak or in a state of sin at the time,” and “Life comes from the male sperm, and the woman merely serves as the soil in which it is planted.”

According to the Malleus Maleficarum: “Women are intellectually like children” and

“All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is in women insatiable.”

The Church felt that women were more carnal than men, as was clear from their many ‘abominations’; women menstruate, get pregnant and give birth, all evidence of the sexual activity which was reviled as sinful by the Church. The Malleus Maleficarum was very unambiguous in its references to women’s sexuality as an evil force. A woman was said to be impure “during her monthly periods.”

Tertullian called women the “devil’s gateway”. Like Eve, all women were considered temptresses, inciting men to seek the forbidden fruit of lust. If a woman was raped, it was considered to be her own fault.

St Thomas Aquinas wrote “Women exert an evil influence over men which causes them to have involuntary erections, and thus distracted them from contemplating God.”

According to the Malleus Maleficarum: “Any woman knows more magic than a hundred men,” and “There are more women than men found infected with the heresy of witchcraft, ”.

“A woman is by her nature more quicker to waver in her faith and consequently quicker to abjure the faith, which is the root of witchcraft” and most damning of all “…women are weak in themselves, and can only perform magic in league with demons”.[iii] The clergy exclaimed

“Blessed be the Highest who has so far preserved the male sex from so great an evil”

While any woman practicing fortune telling, midwifery or herbalism could be executed as a witch, male doctors, astrologers and alchemists were left unscathed. The fifteenth century Council of Trent specifically forbade women from having anything to do with medicine, a profession they were not to be re-admitted to until the late nineteenth century. If any women stood before a tribunal accused of practising medicine or healing it was automatically assumed that she must have achieved any cure by witchcraft and she was put to death [iv] According to the Malleus Maleficarum “If a woman dare to cure … then she is a witch and must die”. Male doctors were trusted implicitly by the authors: “Although some of their remedies seem to be vain and superstitious cantrips and charms… everybody must be trusted in his profession.”

“no one does more harm to the Catholic Church than midwives…the midwives exceed all other witches in deeds of shame”

“A midwife is guilty of sinning if she eased a woman’s pain during childbirth, since that suffering was imposed by Jehovah as a punishment on all women for Eve’s transgression.” (Clerics reminded Queen Victoria of this when she asked for chloroform in the royal labour ward.)

There are still parts of the world that prosecute and burn witches. Women in Papua New Guinea still face violence if they are accused of sorcery or black magic. In Ghana, women (usually elderly widows) have formed “witch camps” and “witch villages,” as safe refuges for those accused of witchcraft in their communities. As many of the supposed Ghanaian witches are widows, the accusation can be seen as a ploy by the family to take their property. “’The camps are a dramatic manifestation of the status of women in Ghana,’ says Professor Dzodzi Tsikata of the University of Ghana. ‘Older women become a target because they are no longer useful to society.’ Women who do not conform to society’s expectations also fall victim to the accusations of witchcraft.

Since we inherit a worldview that sees man as reason and woman as nature, we are still in the grip of the beliefs that fostered witch burning. While the vast majority of society see the druid as a benign eccentric and the shaman as a hippy with a drum, witches are still feared. We are still outsiders. The initiation oath of the Craft reminds us: “Remember the Burning Times, when all we could promise our brothers and sisters was a painless death before the flames took hold. Do you still desire to take that oath, knowing what has been may yet be again?”

We stand of the shoulders of giants, the witches who have gone before, those we call the Mighty Dead. Those who learned, those who suffered, those who forged the crooked path.

When joined my first coven Julia, our high priestess, told us stories of the herb wives of the past, who cared for the bodies and spirits of those around them, telling their fortunes, treating their bodily ailments with herbs, dowsing their lost property, and physicking their farm animals. She held them up to us as examples of powerful, magical women in an age when women otherwise had little influence. They were the midwives who brought new life into the world, she said, and who laid out the dead at the end of life.

These village healers and magicians had different names in different places, including handywomen, blessers, witches, conjurors, herb wives, wild herb men, snake doctors, fairy doctors and currens. [1] In some parts of England they had the title of Old Mother Redcap, since the red cap was a badge of office amongst wise women. There was often some oddity of dress among wise women and cunning men, such as odd socks or a garment worn inside out. [2] These practitioners didn’t use athames and magic swords but everyday objects – stones, keys, shears, sieves, pitchforks, brooms, divining rods, wax, bottles, paper and anything that came readily to hand from the kitchen or farm.

I gradually realised that such expertise formed the pattern of women’s lives for thousands of years and that women developed highly skilful methods in all these areas, even though no contemporary historian wrote about them or accorded women due status for their invaluable work.

Women’s knowledge has been derided and ignored for most of our history, and this is just as true today in western culture, in which knowledge is ‘owned’ by experts and can only be passed on through state-approved academic institutions, and where those seeking to follow traditional or alternative paths – such as herbalism – are dismissed as uneducated, naïve or even dangerous. But this is our knowledge, our heritage – as women and as witches, both male and female.

In the Craft, women have power. Traditional covens are always led by a woman (which is something that some men and even some women struggle with). Moreover, the image of the older woman is positive and powerful. She is the wise one, the teacher, the witch. We look to the Crone goddesses, the witch goddesses, the mistresses of magic, the keepers of the secrets of life and death, Black Annis, Hecate, Ceridwen, Baba Yaga, the Cailleach, Kali, Lilith.

Witches in stories are described vas ugly old crones. Dictionaries describe the crone as an old, ugly, withered woman or ancient witchy female, or say that crone is a derogatory word for an old woman. It is a word derived from ‘carrion’ i.e. dead meat. In fairy tales the crone is always evil. However, this was not always the case. In previous ages, she was the respected elder, a woman with a lifetime’s garnered wisdom, incorporating that of maiden, mother, middle age and old age. She was the keeper of history, the fount of lore, the healer and midwife, the one consulted in time of trouble because her experience told her what to do. She was the Cailleach or veiled one, the coron or crowned one. She is the hag, another derogatory term now, but derived from hagia, which means ‘the sacred one’ (as in hagiography, the study of saints), or from heilig meaning ‘holy’. In Japan, older people are honoured as ‘living treasures’. In our own society, with its heritage of patriarchal monotheism, older women are seen as useless, and that seems to refer to any woman over 45. Today’s witches are trying to reclaim the title of Crone as an honourable and respected estate, in which an older woman is empowered to be herself: as wise, holy, rebellious, incorrigible, astute, funny, sexy, or irascible as she wishes.

Witchcraft is watching the sunrise or sunset, the forest in the light of a glowing moon, a meadow enchanted by the first light of day.   It is the morning dew on the petals of a flower, the gentle caress of a warm summer breeze upon your skin, or the warmth of the summer sun on your face.   Witchcraft is the fall of colourful autumn leaves, and the softness of winter snow.   It is light and shadow and all that lies in between.  It is the song of the birds and other creatures of the wild.   It is being in the temple of Mother Nature and being humbled in reverence.

According to our bard, Dave the Flute, witchcraft is like making good tea. If you follow the way of the Abrahamic Regions of the Book – referential, scripture based – you are told what to believe and the actions you must take to be successful. Take mug, put in tea bag, pour on boiling water, take teabag out, add milk and serve. In may be quite a foul cup of tea and you might have preferred some sugar, but you have done as you were told. But a witch would also prod the bag to see what it was doing, note the colour of the tea as it got stronger and compare with past experience of tea making, giving it a taste to try see how it was doing. And ends up with an ace cup of tea. The witchcraft method is experiential, personal and non-scripted. It is the path untrod… revelation through your own effort.

The Witch sees the sacred within the physical, the magical in the mundane, and uses this knowledge to incorporate spiritual practice into her everyday life, treading lightly on the Earth and seeking to harm no-one. She draws her strength from the sacred flame that burns in her hearth, from the earth that sustains her, the water that nourishes her, and the inspiration of her breath.   She finds her gods in the land around her: the spirits of water, stone and tree, Earth, Moon, Sun, Stars and Sky. She needs no watch, calendar or magical almanac to tell her when to work her magic, but works with the observable ebb and flow of the changing seasons, the rising and setting of the sun, and the waxing and waning of the moon. A Witch is drawn to the traditional ways, the rhythms of nature and the call of the wildwoods.  It is a path as old as time and as new as the newest witch.

Witches are the canny, the riddlers, the healers and the givers of gifts. Witches weaver in and out of the fabric of fairytales with wiles and guiles and the truth that every woman (and every man) must learn their own magic.

If you do not feel the pull of Mother Nature than this is not a path you will be able to, or want, to follow, you won’t understand it or see its value. If you measure success in terms of money and fame it is not for you. But if the starlit night draws you from the comfort of home and fire, if your heart swells at the sight of a swathe of woodland anemones in the spring, you will already know what I mean.

Like all secret arts, witchcraft is learned by apprenticeship. Its deepest secrets are printed nowhere.

Text © Anna Franklin 2018

Illustration © Anna Franklin, The Pagan Ways Tarot, Schiffer, 2015

 

 

[1] Nigel Pennick, Secrets of East Anglian Magic, Capall Bann, Milverton, 2004

[2] ibid

[i] This is a misreading of a far more ancient Mesopotamian Goddess myth. The name Eve, in Hebrew Hawwah, is from the Akkadian word Hayah meaning “to live”. She is thus called Hawwah because she was Mother of All Living” according to Genesis. This was a title of the Sumerian goddess Ninhursag. In the Sumerian myth the god Enki (possibly cognate with Yahweh or Jehovah) was cursed by Ninhursag because he stole forbidden plants from paradise. His health began to fail and the other gods prevailed on the Mother Goddess to help him. To do this she created a goddess called Ninti (literally nin= lady, ti= rib ie lady of the rib, a play on words since the phrase also means “to make live”). He claimed his rib hurt him and she healed him.

[ii] This is still argued by people who deny that women can be Christian ministers.

[iii] Jani Farrell Roberts, The Seven Days of My Creation, iUniverse Inc, Lincoln, 2002

[iv] ibid

Chamomile, the Plant Physician

For several thousand years the chamomile plant has been used for its wonderful healing properties. The ancient Egyptians knew it and the Greek physician Dioscorides used it to treat headaches, liver and bladder problems. Around 900 BCE Asclepiades advised his patients to take some on a regular basis to stay healthy. He was so skilled a herbalist that he declared he would renounce his profession if he ever became ill. He eventually died at a ripe old age as the result of an accident. The Roman naturalist Pliny praised its properties and the famous seventeenth century English herbalist Nicholas Culpeper recommended the herb for kidney problems, fevers, digestive difficulties, and ‘to bring down women’s courses’. Country folk all over used it for a variety of purposes, growing it in cottage gardens and herb plots. The present day British Herbal Pharmacopoeia recommends it for the treatment of nausea, anorexia, painful periods and stomach upsets caused by stress.

There are several varieties of chamomile but only two are used medicinally. One is German [or Hungarian] chamomile [Matricaria recutica], and the other Roman chamomile [Chamaemelum nobile], with the double flowered version of the latter being called English chamomile. The plant grows wild all over Europe, but especially in the Mediterranean region. It was widely cultivated before the Second World War in Belgium, England, France and Saxony, with English flower heads at the time considered to be the best for making essential oil. British and German immigrants introduced the herb into North America and American herbalists were soon making use of the plant to treat wounds, fevers, menstrual cramps, and to prevent premature labour.

It is chiefly the flowers of the chamomile that are used medicinally. Chamomile is one of the best known types of herb tea and many varieties are available commercially, but if you wish to make your own just pour a cup of boiling water over two teaspoons of fresh or dried flowers. Infuse for ten minutes in a covered vessel to prevent the escape of steam [as the medicinal effect of the flowers is impaired by evaporation]. Strain and sweeten with a little honey if you like.

The properties of both types of chamomile are very similar and they are often used interchangeably, though Roman chamomile is said to have superior therapeutic virtues in the treatment of nausea, indigestion, vomiting and loss of appetite. German chamomile has exceptional anti-inflammatory and stress relieving properties, and is gentle and safe for relieving stomach acidity, bloating, wind, colic and irritable bowel syndrome. It is the type most commonly used in commercial chamomile tea and has an aromatic, slightly bitter taste with a scent vaguely reminiscent of apples. Chamomile tea is a harmless remedy for indigestion. It acts to relax the smooth muscle of the digestive tract and has a similar effect on the smooth muscle of the uterus.

Chamomile has long been used to treat women’s complaints as evidenced by the generic name ‘matricaria’ which is derived from the Latin matrix meaning ‘womb’. The Egyptians may have been the first to use the plant this way, but present-day German medical practitioners still advocate the use of chamomile tea for menstrual cramps. So high is the herb’s reputation in Germany it is called alles zutraut meaning ‘capable of anything’. It is worth trying a soothing cup of chamomile tea for painful cramps, but pregnant women should not drink very large quantities of chamomile tea as it is also used to bring on delayed periods.

Chamomile is a mild and gentle tranquilliser with no known side effects. When you are anxious or apprehensive sip a cup of chamomile tea to calm you down, or massage a little well diluted chamomile essential oil into your pulse points. Alternatively you could throw a handful of fresh or dried flowers into a warm bath, lay back and soak up the relaxing vibes. Culpeper declared that bathing any part of the body with a decoction of chamomile removes the weariness and pain from it. Chamomile tea was once considered a sure-fire folk remedy for nightmares, and while this may or may not be true the tea may certainly be utilized to ensure a good night’s sleep. Take a cup at bedtime if you are having difficulty sleeping. Make a sleep inducing bath vinegar by placing a handful of chamomile flowers and a few pieces of dried valerian root in a heat proof jar. Pour over a cup of boiling white vinegar and leave to infuse for two weeks, shaking gently several times a day [when you remember!]. Strain and bottle and pour a little into your bedtime bath. An alternative remedy for insomnia involves stuffing a small pillowcase with dried chamomile flowers [these can be combined with hop flowers if you like]. Sew the pillow closed and place it on top of your own pillow and breathe in the relaxing aroma to send you gently off to sleep.

To relieve inflamed arthritic joints try two cups of chamomile tea a day to reduce the inflammation, or massage in some soothing dilute chamomile oil. To make a warming poultice sew up some small cotton bags and stuff them with dried flowers. Secure the neck and boil up the bags in water. Allow them to cool a little and apply them to aching joints to heat and ease them.

A German scientific trial in the 1980s proved that chamomile is very effective in healing wounds. To treat small cuts and scrapes dip a cloth in some chamomile infusion [tea] and apply to the wound.

Chamomile also helps prevent infection by stimulating the white blood cells. Use an infusion as a mouthwash for inflammations of the mouth or as an eye bath for inflamed and sore eyes. Gargle with chamomile infusion for a sore throat. Some find that German chamomile helps relieve hay fever and asthma – using a large heat proof bowl place a handful of flowers in it and pour a pint of boiling water over them. Drape a towel over your head and bowl to prevent the steam escaping and inhale the steam.

The flowers are also used to make essential oil. The oil made from Roman chamomile is yellow, while the oil made from German chamomile is a much darker blue. Aromatherapists use both types externally to treat acne, rashes, dryness, broken veins, burns, arthritis, rheumatism, muscular pain, painful menstrual cramps, the menopause, irregular periods, headaches, migraine, stress, depression, hysteria, insomnia, childhood tantrums, neuralgia and nervous tension. Chamomile essential oil is widely available, though the oil is subject to restriction in some countries. It is always best to get advice from a qualified aromatherapist before you start using any essential oil, though most aromatherapists believe that chamomile is so safe it may be used on children. Any essential oil should always be used well diluted in carrier oil such as grapeseed or almond oil [try 15 drops of essential oil to one third of a cup of carrier oil]. Aromatherapists consider chamomile oil to be a middle note perfume that blends well with geranium, lavender and patchouli.

If you can’t obtain chamomile essential oil but have plenty of fresh flowers available you can make your own very safe and effective infused oil. Pack a clear glass jar with flowers and fill up the jar with sunflower, almond or some other type of light vegetable oil [don’t use mineral oil]. Seal the jar and leave on a sunny windowsill for two weeks, shaking occasionally. Strain off the flowers and bottle the oil. If you want stronger scented oil add more fresh flowers to your strained oil and repeat the process.

Chamomile’s reputation extends to healing other plants as well as people. It is known as ‘the plant’s physician’ and is said to be able to cure any plant it grows next to and to keep it free of insects. For some reason even bees hate the scent and will not venture near it. It used to be said that nothing contributed so much to the health of a garden as a few chamomile plants dotted about it.

To grow chamomile you will need a sunny situation and a well-drained soil. The plant thrives in dry sandy soil, though the double form [known as English chamomile and preferred by many herbalists] will need a richer, moister soil. To grow from seed, plant in May and transplant the seedlings when they are large enough to handle. Plant with a distance of 18 inches between each one. Firm them in and keep them well weeded during the summer. The flowers may be picked throughout the summer as they open on warm, dry days. Dry carefully and slowly and store in airtight containers.

The whole of the chamomile plant is aromatic. The ancient Greeks called it ground apple [kamai melon], since it smells of apples and grows prostrate along the ground. The Spanish flavored a sherry with chamomile and called it manzanilla which means ‘little apple’. The scent of the plant is released when it is crushed or walked on and for this reason the low growing variety has sometimes been employed to make chamomile lawns. Amazingly the plant actually seems to like being walked on and flourishes under the mistreatment, as the old saying has it:

Like a camomile bed

The more it is trodden

The more it will spread.

 In the language of flowers chamomile is ‘patience in adversity’; probably from this ability to withstand being walked all over. Another way to exploit this virtue is to plant up a chamomile garden seat. These may be fashioned from wooden tubs and crates filled with earth and planted with low growing chamomile. When you sit on your herb seat the balmy fragrance will be released. The same property made chamomile a favourite strewing herb during the Middle Ages when it was the custom to scatter pleasant smelling herbs on the floors of a house to keep the atmosphere sweet.

Chamomile is widely used in cosmetics, particularly hair care products and shampoos for blondes. A final, lightening rinse for blond hair may be made with chamomile infusion. It also makes a good skin cleanser and astringent. For a soothing skin treatment infuse a handful of chamomile flowers in a pint of boiling water. Strain and soak a cloth in the warm liquid and use as a compress. Add some chamomile infusion to your bath to relax you and cleanse your skin.

Naturally, chamomile also has magical virtues. The pretty white rayed petals and yellow-centred flowers of the plant suggested to the ancients that it was associated with the sun and sacred to the sun god. The Egyptians dedicated it to Ra while the Norse called it, ‘Baldur’s Brow’, because the flower was as pure as his forehead. It was one of the Anglo-Saxons nine sacred herbs, and was called maythen. As a herb of the sun, chamomile connects with the sun’s power of regeneration, healing and protection. A cup of chamomile tea may be taken to connect with these energies, to heal and regenerate the spirit within. Add chamomile flowers to incense dedicated to the sun and sun gods, healing and protection. Add chamomile flowers to your ritual bath to tune into the energies of Midsummer, throw some on the bonfire or add a few to the ritual cup. Plant some chamomile in the garden as a guardian herb to deter negativity gaining from your patch.

© Anna Franklin

 

The Web of Wyrd

Now the wonder of the universe, which was set in order by the will of Odin the All Father, is the great ash tree Yggdrasil, the tree of existence, which nourishes and sustains all spiritual and physical life. Its roots spread through the divisions of the world that fill the yawning gulf, and its boughs are above the highest realm of the Gods. It grows out of the past, it lives in the present and it reaches towards the future.

The three Norns make their abode at the roots of Yggdrasil and sprinkle the roots each morning with precious mead from the fountain of life, so that its leaves may be ever green. Thence comes the honey dew, which drips upon the world and is stored by the bees. The three Norns are Urd or Wyrd, and her two sisters, Verdandi and Skuld. They weave the web of wyrd:

I am Urd. I uphold the primal law of the Universe, to which even the Gods are subject. This cannot be changed. I gaze into the well of time at what has already been: the deeds of ourselves and others. These things have shaped the web we weave.

I am Verdandi, that which is becoming, drawing together the threads of the past and the layers of your thoughts and deeds to make the present. By your thoughts and actions you weave your own wyrd minute by minute into the great cosmic tapestry where it is touched by the wyrd of others. Your actions now will weave your future.”

I am Skuld, that which may become, a web of possible outcomes influenced by what has already been. What you call your destiny and your soul are one and the same.

The threads of their woof resemble cords, and vary greatly in hue, according to the nature of the events about to occur. As these sisters flash the shuttle to and fro, they chant a solemn song. They do not weave according to their own wishes, but blindly, executing the wishes of Orlog, the eternal law of the universe which is immutable. They are in nowise subject to the other gods, who might neither question nor influence their decrees.

Wyrd

The Anglo-Saxon noun wyrd is derived from a verb meaning ‘to become’, which, is derived from an Indo-European root meaning ‘to turn’. Wyrd literally means ‘that which has turned’ or ‘that which has become’. Wyrd embodies the concept that everything is turning into something else while both being drawn in toward and moving out from its own origins. Thus, we can think of wyrd as a process that continually works the patterns of the past into the patterns of the present.

In Norse mythology three goddesses called the Norns are responsible for shaping lives out of ørlög, the layers of the past. Their names are Urd ‘that which has become’, Verdandi ‘that which is in the process of becoming’; and Skuld ‘that which must be’.

The idea of fate being woven exists in countless mythologies throughout the world.

The Fates

In Greece, the three fates or Moirai were Clotho, meaning ‘spinner’ who spun the thread of life from her distaff onto her spindle, Lachesis meaning ‘allotter’ who measured the lifespan of each person with her measuring rod, and Atropos, meaning ‘inevitable’, who cut the thread of life with her shears.

In fairy tales, three fairy godmothers appear to bless or curse a child at birth.

Sometimes the weaver was a solitary creatrix, as in Welsh legend, where she appeared as Arianrhod, whose name means ‘Silver Wheel’, the mistress of Caer Arianrhod, the Spiral Castle which is located in the circumpolar stars that circle the Pole Star. The castle reflects the spiralling skein spun from her wheel, which is the revolution of the stars. Souls resided in her castle between incarnations, while poets and shamans, seeking inspiration, journeyed there in spirit. The spiral shape, which is the basis of the spider’s web, is an ancient and almost universal symbol of regeneration and rebirth.

The spider is the archetypal spinner and weaver. It was associated with all spinning and weaving goddesses, those twisters of fate who spin the thread of human destiny, as well as the world, the stars, the cosmos and the web of energies that joins it all together. Spider patiently spins her web with the skill of a craftsman, sometimes trying repeatedly until she has it right.

In Hindu mythology Indra’s net is a network of threads stretching to infinity throughout the cosmos. The horizontal threads are placed in space; the vertical in time. It is a wondrous vast net, much like a spider’s web in intricacy and loveliness. It stretches out indefinitely in all directions.

Everywhere the threads cross each other, there’s an individual. And every individual is a glittering jewel. Since the net itself is infinite in dimension, the jewels are infinite in number. The sparkling jewels hang there, suspended in and supported by the net, glittering like stars. The polished surface of the gem reflects all the other jewels in the net, so that the process of reflection is itself infinite. Every single one of these beads or droplets reflects the entirety of the web as a whole—they carry within them the reflection of all that is.

Every jewel is connected with all the other jewels in the net.  A change in one jewel—or person—produces a change, however slight, in every other. Whatever is done to one jewel affects the entire net. Just as you cannot damage one strand of a spider’s web without injuring the entire web, you cannot damage one strand of the web that is the universe without injuring all others in it, whether that injury is known or unknown to them. A single helpful act—even a simple act of kindness—will send positive ripples across the infinite net, touching every jewel, every person in existence.

One tug pulls the whole net, one tug connects you to the whole net.

It was not until the mid-20th century that quantum physicists first identified an “energy field” which seemed to lie at the heart of existence. Science identified it as an omnipresent energetic substructure and they called it the Zero-Point field.

Matter springs forth into physical reality from the wave nature of the quantum field. Everything in our universe, no matter what its size, is part of and is comprised of the zero-point field. Matter itself is made of waves. All matter in the universe is interconnected as and by quantum waves which have no boundary. They are infinite.

The brain is like a quantum computer. If thought and memory exist outside the confines of the body (as part of the totality of the zero-point field) and physical structure synchronizes with the information and frequencies it interprets from the zero-point field, this means that your consciousness and the thoughts you think determine your physical reality.

Interacting With Wyrd

Imagine a patterned piece of cloth being woven on a loom. The horizontal threads (the woof) are woven in in layers along the vertical threads (the warp). The horizontal threads represent layers of past actions. The vertical threads represent a time line. The colour of each horizontal thread as it is woven in will add to the pattern that is already established and influence the pattern that emerges. The threads already woven in cannot be changed, but the overall pattern is never fixed. Existing designs can be expanded into new forms. New designs can be added. Everything we do adds one more layer to the pattern.

Our past affects us continually. Who we are, where we are, and what we are doing today is dependent on actions we have taken in the past and actions others have taken in the past which have affected us in some way. And every choice we make in the present builds upon choices we have previously made.

We interact with wyrd (that which has become) to create certain personal patterns which affect and are reflected in universal patterns. Those universal patterns, in turn, exert forces which shape our lives.

Imagine that the woman next to you has just really insulted you. How you react is going to depend on the patterns of your wyrd already in place – you personality characteristics, social conditioning, past experiences with being insulted, your relationship with the person who has insulted you, even your hormone levels.

To the extent that your reaction is determined by these patterns, wyrd is shaping your life at that moment. You might choose to slap her, shout at her, or walk away.  But no matter which way you chose to react to the insult, your reaction will add to the patterns in place and constrain your future actions (if you are insulted a second time, your reaction will be determined in part by how you behaved when you were insulted the first time.) So, at the same time you are caught up in experiencing certain patterns of wyrd, you are creating them.

Moving from the personal to the universal, your reaction will also add to the patterns affecting the behaviour of the person who insulted you. As a result of your response, she may change her behaviour towards others which will, in turn, change her personal wyrd, and so on.

Ultimately, each little choice we make affects universal forces which can come back to affect us in strange ways. The larger patterns of wyrd created by individuals in a particular time and place is the source of the zeitgeist (spirit of the age) which informs the beliefs and behaviour of everyone in a society. Thus, “that which has become”, wyrd, both creates and is created by individual actions, states, and choices.

If we imagine the universe as a big spider’s web and imagine that each node where two strands meet represents an event (or a person or a life) we can visualise the interconnectedness of things. We can see how some things are directly connected whereas others are more distantly connected through a series of links. We can also see how nodes which are closely connected from one perspective (following a single strand from the centre outwards) can be distantly connected from another perspective (following the spiral that continually expands its radius as it moves from the centre).

Furthermore, we can see that if we were to disturb any part of the web — say by blowing on it or shaking it, the entire thing would reverberate – though the parts closest to the disturbance would react the most strongly.

We affect the web with our thoughts and actions.

We can also affect the web by using magic. When something vibrates at a certain frequency, whether a thought, sound, colour, crystal, perfume etc. any object near it will begin to vibrate with the same frequency, and we can use this to vibrate the web in the way we want, and this is something we will look at in the future.

Furthermore, by reading the vibrations and patterns of the web, we can predict outcomes. Imagine you were to witness a raven swooping out of the sky to peck out the eye of a warrior. You would say that the flight of the bird was connected directly with the wound. But if you had observed the flight of the same raven the day before the attack you would see no connection with the warrior’s injury. Nevertheless, the pattern of the raven’s flight at noon is bound to the pattern of its flight at dusk, just as surely as the progression of night and day. One can read the pattern and see what the future has in store.

Text © Anna Franklin 2017

Illustration © Anna Franklin, The Pagan Ways Tarot, Schiffer, 2015

EXPANDING CONSCIOUSNESS

I had already been a witch for twenty years when the Gods decided I needed to go deeper into the mysteries. This experience was spread over several years.  It began when I had a parathyroid tumour, and after the operation to remove it I was catapulted into full body tetany when each muscle in my body contracted, one by one, until I could not breathe. I thought then that my heart muscle would be the next one to cease functioning – that I was dying. Despite this, I realised that while my body was panicking around me, experiencing its own fears and the desire to survive, my conscious self was separated from these sensations, and was utterly calm. Above me I could see a doorway, the exit from life, and was silently begging for it to be opened so that I might pass through, but this was not to be. It had taken the medics nearly thirty minutes to respond to my panic button, but eventually I was given emergency treatment and brought back.

Later that night, shocked and now very frightened, the world became nothing but crimson light, out of which shadowy figures emerged, the only clear parts of them threatening teeth and pincers. They haunted me nightly while I was in hospital, and I was plunged into a state of such severe trauma that I began to experience my surroundings in a completely different way. Every sound around me, from the rumbling of hospital trolleys to the calls of the other patients, resonated in a different chakra: low tones were experienced in my root and spleen chakras, while high notes reverberate in my throat and third eye chakras.

After a couple of years, I developed a constant sore throat to the point where it became painful to speak, and eventually impossible; I had developed another growth, this time on one of my salivary glands. Even after this was removed, I began to grow more ill and the medication I was given caused a stroke. Trying to push through this and continue working as well as I could, I felt worse and worse, and eventually developed severe ME – my body and my psyche just could not cope with any more strain. From going about the world I became confined to the house, then to a room, and eventually to a bed. I was in constant pain so severe I wept. I was unable to feed myself and had to be spoon fed. I was unable to take myself to the toilet, to wash and clothe myself. I couldn’t hold a book to read it, and then I lost my eyesight for a time.

Everything I was had been stripped away from me. For the greater part of two years I lay in bed, feeling myself to be an empty shell, completely separated from the world and no longer part of it- it went on around me but I was caught in some hinterland between life and death. Each night I prayed that I wouldn’t wake up in the morning; that the gods would take me, but every day I woke up just the same. Each night I was plagued by dreams and visions of dark tunnels and monsters were teeth and claws that wished to devour me, that were devouring me. I was nothing, and I must either change or die. I surrendered myself to death.

Then one night I lay beneath an open window. The wind was fierce, and gusts played about my bed. “Come with us,” they said, and I left my body to travel the night with the storm, across the paddock and away over the fields. The next morning a phrase from a dream lingered in the air ‘the earth soul and the fire soul’. I understood that the earth soul stayed anchored in one place, while the fire soul was free to roam.  From then on, each night I travelled the world with the breeze.

Gradually, little by little, by sheer effort of will, I would crawl from my bed, and Chalky would take me out in the car. Each tree I passed was an immense presence, vibrating with life. I was taken to lie in the garden, and found I could understand the language of plants. Human speech was mostly just a buzz and a blur, but I, who had worked with herbs for many years, finally understood the spirits of plants directly. It seemed to me that I had slowed down so much that I had sunk deeper and deeper into a new level of consciousness, like a person falling into the mud at the bottom of the pond, while on the bright surface other people skittered, moving too fast with their everyday concerns to see what was really going on at the root of things.

Then, one autumn equinox, my friend Sue suggested that we go out for a drive. We decided to go where fate drew us, feeling for the pull of the web at the end of each road to decide which way we should turn. Fate took us to Croft Hill. Though it is only a few miles from my present house, I had never been there before.

Two women with severe ME climbing a steep hill doesn’t seem sensible, but we both knew this is what we were meant to do, struggling with trembling and weak muscles, panting with unfit lungs. Half way up, we stopped and looked back at the landscape laid out before us in the bright September sunshine. For the first time since falling ill, I felt a rush of joy and a sense of being part of the world. Nevertheless, as I struggled to the summit, I felt that the effort was too much and that I would literally die on reaching it. I laid myself on the cleft rock that tops the pinnacle, having the impression it was like a sacrificial altar, and I was willing to die there, in a beautiful place on a beautiful day, and be happy to do so; let the gods take me.

Instead I was aware of being drawn through the rock to deep within the hill. There the spirit of the hill appeared to me, the presence we were later to call Old Man Croft. He showed me many things, including how the hill mediated the power around the local landscape, how energy flowed in and flowed out, and how the rocky crest was the backbone of the hill, his backbone.

After what seemed like aeons I surfaced again and was led to a grove of hawthorns, which I realised made a perfect circle on the hillside. I sat beneath one, and the dryad of the tree emerged and told me to eat one of her fruits. I did. The hill had become part of the tree, and the tree became part of me, and thus we were all connected. I witnessed the souls of the other hawthorns come out and dance on the hillside, weaving a web with the land, the wind, the birds and the sunshine; I knew that the dance would change as the seasons changed. They drew me into the dance; I swayed as a tree, flew with the birds among the branches and blew with the wind about the summit, vibrantly aware of the energy flowing into and out of the hill.

Though I should, by rights, have been exhausted by the trip, when we returned I felt more vigorous than I had for several years, as though my soul was returning to my body. I was brimming with an inexpressible joy.

Croft Hill became a place of pilgrimage for us. On the Summer Solstice of 1999 I poured a libation of water into the summit cleft, and laid a bunch of camomile flowers at its foot. The hawthorns were beginning to form fruits and I reflected on how this was the time of fertilisation, the impregnation of the Earth Mother. However, it was not the day to linger at the hawthorns, so I set off to visit the oak in the hollow. As I sat beneath it, I watched a pillar of light travel upwards from the trunk into the sky, then down again through it into the earth: a cosmic axis. The oak explained that in each place, one tree takes on this role, though not necessarily the oldest one. I thought about the role of the World Tree with its branches in the heavens and thought ‘Well, trees are not that tall, not like mountains’ and the tree replied that its leaves were in more than one realm and that each leaf was a realm in itself.

The next day I was visiting my friend Angie, and when we returned to her house in Rugby we noticed a colossal flock of gulls circling the cornfield. What were so many sea birds doing inland at that time of year? More were flying in to join them all the time. I went across the road to see what was attracting them and they followed me. I went back to the house and again they followed me. Angie and I went inside to get them some bread and water, but when we went out again, they had completely vanished. I knew this must be an omen of something coming along the Web towards me.

That night I entered a trance and began to dance slowly. As I moved, I felt the energies fluctuate around me. I saw the strands of the Web and how things were connected. I understood how to change things by weaving the threads of the web, feeling and seeing which threads I needed – maybe this energy from an oak tree thread, this energy from the grass and the energy from this location and so on. I only needed to pull the energies along the web without involving physical objects at all. I discovered how to draw and weave the energies of stars, moonlight, place and people in ritual.

My illness had given me immeasurable gifts, and the things I saw and experienced were only possible because it changed my level of consciousness, because the world of everyday reality became distant for me and I was forcibly stilled to the point where I saw beyond it.

NON-ORDINARY REALITY

We’ve all experienced different levels of consciousness. The word ‘consciousness’ is derived from the Latin con-scire meaning ‘with-knowing’. Consciousness is a spectrum from wide-awake, logical thinking to daydreaming, dreaming and deep trance. In the modern western world, only logical thought is considered important and ‘real’, while dreams and visions are dismissed, though in the past people firmly believed that gods and spirits communicated with them in dreams and visions. This was true even in Christian countries where the clergy used meditation, fasting and flagellation to induce visions which gave the recipient both status and power. (However, any non-clergy having visions were subject to investigation and suspicion, especially if they were women.[i]) While in the west, only the state of being wide-awake is given credence as ‘reality’, in religious and shamanic world-views, other levels of consciousness are equally valid. In the world-view of tribal people everywhere, the realms we know from dreams and visions, the worlds inhabited by gods, spirits, animal powers and ancestors, are recognised as equally real. Moreover, these realms hold the key to solving problems, healing and knowledge.

 Carlos Casteneda coined the terms ‘ordinary reality’ and ‘non-ordinary reality’. Ordinary reality is the consensual reality we all experience everyday – we can all agree that there is a table over there, rain is wet, two and two make four and so on. We experience this reality through our five senses. It is often called the physical or material plane, the time-space world.

In ordinary life, we are focused on the business of living, yet while we are dreaming or meditating, we experience other kinds of realities.  In dreams and visions, we might meet dead relatives, other beings, speak with animals and experience the fundamental interconnectedness of all things. Non-ordinary reality is only encountered during an altered state of consciousness. This form of reality is experienced by an individual; he or she sees things that are meant for him alone, and they are generally witnessed by no one else.  The exception to this is the work of a close magical group who are trained to change consciousness together using specific methods.

WHAT DO WE MEAN BY CONSCIOUSNESS?

 Dictionary Definition of Consciousness

• The quality or state of being aware especially of something within oneself
• The state or fact of being conscious of an external object, state or fact
• The upper level of mental life of which the person is aware as contrasted with unconscious processes

 According to The Blackwell Companion to Consciousness: “Anything that we are aware of at a given moment forms part of our consciousness, making conscious experience at once the most familiar and most mysterious aspects of our lives.”

We take in the information that is provided by our five senses – sight, hearing, touch, taste and smell, and the brain processes them to give us a picture of our surroundings and what is happening. This gives us a consensus of ‘reality’. For example, when you hold a flower, you see the colours, you see its shape, you smell its scent, and you feel its texture. Your brain manages to bind all of these perceptions together into one concept of a flower.

However, if we encounter something outside of the ‘reality’ we have logged in our internal data banks, we can overlook it or even not see it. Native American Indians on Caribbean Islands couldn’t see Columbus’s ships as ships because they were beyond their knowledge. They just saw them as features of the horizon. It was only when the shaman was taken on board one of the ships, could walk around it and see how it related to his world, that he was able to process it and share this knowledge with the rest of the tribe.

A classic experiment on visual processing involved asking people to watch a video of six people passing a basketball, and press a button every time a particular team has possession. Invariably only about half the people tested ever notice a woman in a gorilla suit walking across the middle of the screen during the game. We don’t see things in front of our eyes if we’re not looking for them.

The brain processes 400 billion bits of information per second, but we are only aware of about 2000 of them. The brain receives the rest of the information, but we don’t integrate that knowledge; we are only aware of the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what the brain receives. Our eyes see far more than we process, but we only process and integrate the things we need, or which seem to be what we need or which fit in with what we expect to see. [ii]

Everyone’s senses are not the same though. Synaesthesia is a condition in which one sense (for example, hearing) is simultaneously perceived as if by one or more additional senses such as sight. Another form of synaesthesia joins objects such as letters, shapes, numbers or people’s names with a sensory perception such as smell, colour or flavour. Imagine that when you see a cloud, you taste blackberries. Or when you hear a violin, you feel a tickle on your left knee. Or you are completely convinced that Wednesdays are red. [1] Many researchers are interested in synaesthesia because it may reveal something about human consciousness. One of the biggest mysteries in the study of consciousness is what is called the “binding problem.” Synesthetics might have additional perceptions that add to their concept of a flower.[2]

UNIVERSAL CONSCIOUSNESS?

Consciousness is one of the biggest mysteries in the universe. There is no real consensus of what it is and how it arises.

The materialist viewpoint states that consciousness is derived entirely from physical matter, that it is a random function generated by the brain. This raises the question of how and when consciousness emerged, and how exactly did consciousness emerge from something non-conscious?  The second theory is Dualism which holds that consciousness is separate and distinct from physical matter, that consciousness is a kind of ghost in the machine of the body.

However, increased understanding of quantum physics has led to a growing band of scientists and philosophers who believe that consciousness permeates the whole of reality. Rather than being just a unique feature of human experience, it’s the very foundation of the universe, present in every particle and all physical matter – every single particle in existence has a simple form of consciousness. This isn’t meant to imply that particles have a coherent worldview or actively think, only that there’s some inherent subjective experience of consciousness in even the tiniest particle. These particles come together to form more complex forms of consciousness. The Integrated Information Theory argues that something will have a form of ‘consciousness’ if the information contained within the structure is sufficiently “integrated,” or unified, and so the whole is more than the sum of its parts. Because it applies to all structures—not just the human brain— this means that physical matter has innate conscious experience: rocks will be conscious, spoons will be conscious, the Earth will be conscious – any kind of aggregation gives you consciousness.

An alternative theory holds that, rather than individual particles holding consciousness and coming together, the universe as a whole is conscious. This would explain the phenomena of quantum entanglement—the finding that certain particles behave as a single unified system even when they’re separated by such immense distances there can’t be a causal signal between them— and suggest the universe functions as a fundamental whole rather than a collection of discrete parts. Physicist Sir Roger Penrose believes consciousness to be a fundamental property of the universe, present even at the first moment of the universe during the Big Bang.

PAGAN CONSCIOUSNESS

That’s a very Pagan way of looking at things.

In the monotheistic worldview, supported by western materialism and rationalism, man is the only entity in creation that has consciousness, the pinnacle of creation, above the rest, made in god’s image, the only being that can pray and be elevated to a holy state. The rest of creation is lesser, not conscious, transient and there just to be used.

But this approach is a reflection of a culture that sees the spiritual and physical as separate. If we think of consciousness pervading all things, nature becomes a single whole. Traditional Pagan societies have always recognised that the spiritual and the physical are indivisible and that one is a reflection of the other. To the Ojibwa Native Americans, ‘persons’ comprise one of the major classes of things to which the self must become orientated. This can include animals, plants and inanimate objects.

From a practical perspective, we see everything in life as a distinct, separate entity, with its own unique properties that set it apart from anything else. Essentially, though, this is a construct of the mind, a way to order the world so as to create a structure that is familiar and in which we feel safe to live. It’s not true.

Even your body is not a solid object that carries you through life. It is a network of energy and information in dynamic exchange with the world around you. With every breath, every mouthful of food, every noise you hear and sight you see, your body changes. In the last few seconds, it has exchanged four hundred billion trillion atoms with your environment.[iii] The body only appears to be static because the changes taking place are too small to see. Every year 98% of the atoms have been exchanged.

“Any glass of water you drink might contain one or more water molecules that were previously drunk and later excreted by, say, Isaac Newton. Since water makes up a large percentage of our tissues, your morning coffee probably contained a molecule or two that was once an active part of Newton’s brain. You possibly also have some molecules that were in your own body on the day you were born but then were excreted, recycled through rivers and seas, the sap of trees and the bodies of other creatures, only to turn up a second time in your food.” And if these molecules contain a proto-consciousness, and once formed the consciousness of another entity, what does that mean for our consciousness?

The body is an energy that exists in a constant state of transformation. At the deepest level of existence, we truly are one with the Cosmos.

If we recognise that there is no such thing as ‘me’, ‘mine’, but a flow of creation, and not separate at all, this involves a whole new way of seeing, acting and belonging. We call this letting go of the ego, the ‘I’, an essential stage in changing consciousness.

Text © Anna Franklin 2017

Illustration © Anna Franklin 2017

 

[1] https://faculty.washington.edu/chudler/syne.html

[2] ibid

[i] David Lewis Williams & David Pearce, The Neolithic Mind, Thames and Hudson Ltd, London, 2005

[ii] What the Bleep Do We Know, http://www.thebleep.co.uk

[iii] What the Bleep Do We Know, http://www.thebleep.co.uk

The Magic and Mystery of the Butterfly

Butterflies and moths both belong to the order of insects known as lepidoptera, a Greek word meaning ‘scaled wing’. Lepidoptera have a five-stage life cycle: first an egg, then a caterpillar, followed by a pupae that matures into a chrysalis which, after a dormant period, breaks to reveal the butterfly. The ancients marvelled at the amazing transformation from a crawling worm-like creature that seems to ‘die’, become entombed, and then emerges as a glorious butterfly that spreads its wings and flies. Perhaps it isn’t surprising that the life cycle of the butterfly, with its many transformations, became an allegory for the existence of a human, who at first crawls on the earth, dies, and emerges from the mortal shell as a transfigured soul. Depicting a creature with butterfly wings marked it out as a creature of spirit, and this is why angels and fairies are often depicted with butterfly wings.

The Celts suspected that butterflies might be human souls in actuality, and wore butterfly badges as a mark of respect for their ancestral spirits. It was said that the soul of a newly dead person could sometimes be seen hovering over the corpse in the form of a butterfly, and this was a good omen for the fate of the soul. However, in some cases the butterfly might be the soul not of a dead person, but of a dreamer, flying free while the body slept, and some say the soul-butterfly’s ability to leave the body in sleep accounts for dreams. In any case, it was taboo to kill a butterfly, since it might mean destroying a human soul.

The Celts saw the butterfly as symbol of renewal and rebirth. At the festivals where all torches and lights were extinguished and re-lit from a central bonfire [such as Samhain], the brand was called a ‘butterfly’.

Butterfly never appears as a personal power animal, but can be a wonderful spirit helper that shows the way to personal growth. She indicates a total transformation in your life. This might be very frightening, as we tend to cling to what is known, what feels secure. However, movement and development are necessary if you are to grow beyond what you are at this moment in time. If the caterpillar did not surrender itself to a painful change, it could never achieve its ultimate glory as a butterfly and take flight. You should not try to remain in any life phase forever, but recognise when the time has come to move on.

It is important to accept that life has cycles and stages, some active and expanding, some passive and contracting. Sometimes you might experience rapid change, at other times nothing may seem to be happening but it is important to realise that, as deep within the chrysalis, radical alterations are taking place, even though you can’t see them. Remember that it isn’t possible to have everything at once, but each thing comes in its own time and season. Every stage of your life has its purpose and its own rewards. You need to understand what this phase is teaching you, and how you can use that knowledge to progress. You are not only sum of your life experiences, but also of how you have used the knowledge with which they presented you.

 There is a theory that says if a single butterfly flaps its wings in Indonesia, the effects of that action will continually travel outwards, like the ripples in a pond, and may eventually cause a storm in, say, Mexico. This story warns you to be aware of the effects of your words and actions, as they are not isolated in time, but continue to affect you and other people. If the gentle flapping of a butterfly’s wings can cause a devastating storm, imagine the end result of an aggressive or selfish act magnified. Imagine too how the effects of a good deed might snowball.

Text © Anna Franklin, The Celtic Animal Oracle, Vega, 2003

Illustration © Paul Mason, The Celtic Animal Oracle, Vega, 2003

Ritual Bread

Bread has been one of the primary staple foods in almost every culture. Archaeologists have found grinding stones dating back to around 30,000 BCE used to crush the grains of wild grasses and the roots cattails and ferns into a paste which could be placed over a fire and cooked as a kind of flatbread to provide vital carbohydrate-rich nutrition for the hunter-gatherers who followed herds of wild animals across the land.  The world’s oldest evidence of bread-making has been found in a 14,500-year-old site in Jordan’s north-eastern desert. Around 10,000 BC, with the dawn of the Neolithic age and the spread of agriculture, grains became the mainstay of making bread and bread as we know it developed in the Neolithic Era in Mesopotamia. Clay tablets from Sumer describe wheat planting, harvesting and bread production.

Though the ancients had many types of grain, including barley, spelt and rye, they discovered that wheat made the best bread. Though they would not have known it, this is because wheat contains the highest levels of gluten, which binds the tiny carbon dioxide bubbles produced by the fermentation of the yeast, which enables the bread to rise well. Yeast is a common form of fungus and it occurs naturally on grapes and other organic substances including on the surface of cereal grains, so any dough left to rest leavens naturally. However, early breadmakers often used beer as a rising agent; evidence from pottery indicates that fermented grain water was turned into beer as early as 9500 BCE.  Pliny the Elder reported that the Gauls and Iberians used the foam skimmed from beer called barm to produce “a lighter kind of bread than other peoples”.

The Religious Significance of Bread in the Ancient World

Bread has a significance beyond mere nutrition in many cultures. Bread is called ‘the staff of life’ and came to ritually symbolise all other food. Grain is one of the most important symbols of the nurturing Goddess, sacred to agricultural goddesses such as Demeter and Ceres. It was often seen as her son who awakens in the spring, grows through the summer and matures in the autumn, only to be harvested and die. The shed seeds lay dormant in the cold, winter earth, the belly of the Earth Mother, ready to shoot again in the spring. This was a never ending cycle of life, death and rebirth, a cycle also promised to worshippers. This story was recalled in songs among farming folk until recent times:

 There were three men came out of the West

Their fortunes for to find,

And these three men made a solemn vow,

‘John Barleycorn must die’.

They’ve ploughed, they’ve sown, they’ve harrowed him in

Through plods of barley’s head,

And these three men made a solemn vow,

‘John Barleycorn is dead’.

They let him lie for a very long time,

‘Til the rains from heaven did fall,

And little Sir John sprung up his head

And so amazed them all.

They’ve let him stand until Mid-Summer’s Day

‘Til he looked both pale and wan,

And little Sir John’s grown a long, long beard

And so become a man.

They’ve hired men with the scythes so sharp

To cut him off at the knee,

They’ve rolled him and tied him by the way

Serving him most barbarously.

They’ve hired men with the sharpest hooks

Who’ve pricked him to the heart,

And the Loader, he has served him worse than that,

For he’s bound him to the cart.

They’ve wheeled him around and around a field

‘Til they came unto a barn,

And there they made a solemn oath

On poor John Barleycorn.

 They’ve hired men with the crofting sticks

To cut him skin from bone,

And the Miller, he has served him worse than that,

For he’s ground him between two stones.

And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl,

And he’s brandy in the glass,

And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl

Proved the strongest man at last.

The huntsman he got off the fox

Oh so loudly to blow his horn,

And the tinker he can’t mend kettle nor pots

Without a little Barleycorn.

The narrative is clear- John Barleycorn, the spirit of the corn, is cut down and buried in the earth, seeming to be dead, but when the spring rains come he is resurrected and grows with the summer sun. With the late summer he begins to wither and weaken, and his head droops. He ages as autumn comes and his enemies cut him down. They tie him up on a cart (the sheaves of corn are gathered, tied and carted away), they beat him up (flail the grain), wash him, toss him about (winnow the grain), roast the marrow from his bones (scorch the grain) and grind him between two stones (mill the grain), then drink his blood (the alcohol brewed from the barley).

This echoes the story of the Egyptian Osiris imprisoned in a coffin (buried), dismembered and scattered (the corn is winnowed and the seeds scattered) and resurrected (the seed-corn grows in the spring). The followers of Osiris ate wheat cakes, marked with a cross (a sun symbol), which embodied the god.

In Greece and the near East, Adonis, Tammuz and Dumuzi are also torn apart, forced to go into the underworld and are resurrected in the spring. The death and rebirth of the Goddess Cybele’s lover Attis was celebrated at the spring equinox, first with a day of blood on Black Friday and culminated after three days in a day of rejoicing over his resurrection. Sound familiar? It gets more so. Attis was born of a human woman, a virgin named Nana on 25^th December. He was known as a saviour of humankind by way of his sacrificial death, crucified on a pine tree so that his holy blood could pour down to redeem the earth.

Vegetation gods were often given the title ‘saviour’ because they give their lives so that mankind might live, often spoken of as incarnated gods, like Osiris and Dionysus. The flesh of such gods was eaten in the form of wheaten cakes.

For a thousand years before Christianity, Mithras was worshipped widely among the Persians, Indians, Romans and Greeks, up till around 400 CE. Mithras was born in a cave of a virgin mother, attended by shepherds, on December 25^th and his religion spread with the Roman Empire and nearly took over the known world. He was the known as the ‘Light of the World’, ‘The Redeemer’ and ‘The Good Shepherd’. He baptised his followers and shared a Last Supper. An inscription on the temple of Mithras which lies beneath the Vatican reads:  “He who will not eat of my body, nor drink of my blood, so that he may be one with me and I with him, shall not be saved,” a saying later attributed to Jesus. He travelled far and wide as a teacher and had twelve companions. He was buried in a tomb and rose again at the spring equinox, which was celebrated with great rejoicing.

In Mexico, the god Xiuhzilopoctli was commemorated in the festival of ‘eating the god’ when people ate a dough image of the god raised on a cross.

When vegetation gods die they are said to go into the underworld (the seed is planted beneath the earth). Here they often become kings of the underworld and the dead- Crom Dubh was underworld ruler of the mounds, Osiris was Lord of the Dead, Dumuzi was Lord of the Abyss, Adonis became the lover of the Queen of the Underworld and so on.

An ear of corn was the central mystery of the worship of Demeter at Eleusis. Bread was eaten at the rites of Artemis and Cybele and other earth and moon goddesses, often baked in circles and marked with a cross, representing the four directions, the four phases of the moon and the four solar festivals.  This is still seen today in our hot crossed buns eaten at Easter, which was once the springtime celebration of the resurrection of the vegetation god, as well as the Christian’s communion wafers.

The bread is sometimes dipped in salt, which preserves foods and makes them incorruptible, representing permanence and immortality. It also symbolises wisdom and truth, and was formerly used in funeral rites to keep the soul safe from evil spirits. For the same reason it was placed on the tongues of newly born children. Bread and salt represented hospitality and to share them imposed obligations on both the giver and receiver, the sacred duties of host and guest.

Ritual Breads

Bread also has a symbolic roles in Judaism and Christianity. During the Jewish festival of Passover, only unleavened bread is eaten, in commemoration of the flight from slavery in Egypt. The Israelites did not have enough time to allow their bread to rise, and so ate only unleavened bread matzo.

In the Christian ritual of the Eucharist, bread is eaten as a sacrament either as a symbolic representation of the body of Christ or, as in the Catholic liturgy, as a real manifestation of the body of Christ.

More personal variously shaped and marked ritual breads were – and in some cases still are – used in many cultures and played a significant role in family, folk and annual ceremonies symbolising a desire for fertility, abundant crops, family prosperity and all good things. The round shape symbolises the cycle of life, the Sun, infinity, perfection and God. [1]

In many parts of Europe there are traditional designs of bread, baked at times of festival and celebration. Their designs are ancient and symbolic, and differ according to the time of year they are made. Designs vary locally, but each one is specific to its corresponding time, and is immediately recognized by local people for what it is. In Bulgaria, for example, every folk festival had its own bread, prepared and decorated in different ways. Traditionally the flour was sieved three times and the dough was mixed with ‘silent’ water – one brought by a maiden in absolute silence – in which flowers and herbs had been soaked. Different objects were represented on top. Christmas bread (Bogova pita or ‘Lord’s bread’) is decorated with varied representations such as pens full of sheep, wine casks, etc. depending on the occupation of the master of the house. Wedding breads are abundantly decorated with spirals, rosettes and figures of doves meant to symbolize good luck and blessings. Carol singers are given specially made rolls of bread which they string up on the tops of their shepherd’s crooks. In North-West Bulgaria, on the holiday of Mladentsi (the Day of the Holy Infants) the saint is venerated with a small loaf of bread shaped to represent a human figure. In Eastern Slovakia kračun or Christmas bread was enriched with various ingredients, such as various grains, garlic and chives, to ensure good health and good crops.  A variety of figural breads were also prepared at Christmas, such as bread in the shape of birds for carol singers.

Ritual bread was often consecrated and broken cross wise. [2] Several pieces were usually left as an offering to God, and other pieces buried near animals pens and corn fields as a fertility blessing.

Ritual Consumption of Bread and Wine in Modern Pagan Ritual

Foods have always played a key part in rituals and the worship of the Gods. Without food we would not live at all, and its production was one of the central themes of ancient religions. Mysteriously, the small seed planted beneath the dark earth would shoot and grow into something that would provide a sustaining meal. It was as though by placing it in the womb of Mother Earth she would nourish and sustain it, magically transforming it just as a woman would nurture the seed in her womb to produce a child.

The dedication of the bread and wine is one of the central points of every modern Pagan ritual. Eating bread and drinking wine was an important part of the rites of harvest goddesses and vegetation gods throughout the world, and pre-dates Christianity by millennia.

Festival bread is made especially for the ritual. It is made with due ceremony and intent; buying a machine-made loaf from the supermarket just isn’t good enough as an offering to the Gods. In many parts of the world, different breads are made for different occasions, their shapes and varieties reflecting the festival and its symbolism. Traditional loaf-shapes are based upon binding knots or in the shape of suns and moons, animals and humans.  [i] It would be appropriate to have a sun-shaped loaf for Midsummer, or one in the form of a sheaf of wheat for Lughnasa, and so on.  Breads can be scored with symbols, runes or sigils that open up as the bread cooks.

Catholics believe that the bread and wine is the transubstantiated flesh and blood of God, in other words, the bread and wine become the flesh and blood of God with the act of consecration. For ancient Pagans, grain and wine were god-essences intrinsically. When we consecrate bread and wine in a ritual, we invoke this god-essence, the spiritual core of the food; through it, we absorb the power of the Gods. When we eat the bread, we take in the life-force of the Corn God and it nourishes us, physically and spiritually.[ii]

© Anna Franklin 2019

[1] http://www.uluv.sk/en/web/magazine/archive/year-2004/rud-022004/rastislava-stolicna-ritual-bread-in-traditional-slovak-culture/

[2] http://www.omda.bg/public/engl/ethnography/ritual_bread.htm

[i] Nigel Pennick, Natural Magic, Lear Books,

[ii] Nigel Pennick, Natural Magic, Lear Books,

THE MYSTERIES OF ARIANRHOD

Arianrhod, great cosmic mother

You create from yourself alone

Spinning the stars upon your silver wheel,

Spiral goddess of the whirling galaxies,

Weaving your web from the threads of time,

All that is, all that was, and all that shall be

Endlessly becoming, spinning life into being. [i]

You are the sacred strand in all things,

Weaver of wisdom, weave us closer to you.

Arianrhod is the queen of the spiral castle, the swirling galaxy of stars. She is the goddess who spins the cosmos, the mistress of time and the seasons. She is the goddess who challenges. She is the divine initiator. Hers is not an easy path.

In Welsh myth Arianrhod is the daughter of the chief goddess Dôn, from whom all the Welsh gods descended and the god Beli Mawr (‘Beli the Great’). Beli is cognate with the continental Belenos or the Irish Bel, the sun god called the Fair Shining One, or The Shining God, a pan-Celtic deity associated with Beltane, the horse and the wheel.  Arianrhod’s maternal uncle was Math the magician, and her siblings included Gwydion, a magician-poet and Math’s heir, and Govannon, god of the forge.

 Though she is mentioned in the Welsh Triads, the only full tale of Arianrhod still in existence is found in the Mabinogion, a collection of Welsh stories recorded by Christian monks in the mediaeval period.

The Story of Arianrhod

King Math ruled Gwynedd, but was under a taboo that his feet should always rest his feet in the lap of a virgin during peacetime. Sadly, his nephew Gilvaethwy lusted after the footholder, Goewin. He confided his secret to his brother Gwydion and, as they knew that Math was released from the taboo in time of war, by some clever machinations, provoked a war with their neighbour King Pryderi. Math was forced to go off to battle, leaving his footholder behind. Gilvaethwy seized the opportunity and raped Goewin.

Naturally, Math was furious when he returned, punishing his nephews severely by turning them into a series of mated pairs of animals.

In an attempt to regain Math’s favour, Gwydion suggested his sister Arianrhod for the position of footholder. When Arianrhod was asked if she was a virgin, she replied that she was morwyn, a word that means ‘little girl’ [ii] and might be construed as implying an unmarried state.

However, a magical trial of her status was required – to test her purity she had to step over Math’s wand, but as soon as she had done so, she gave birth to a golden-haired boy called Dylan (which means ‘Son of the Second Wave’), who immediately jumped into the sea and swam away. Arianrhod indignantly walked out of the door.

No one but Gwydion saw her drop a bundle, an unformed lump of boy-flesh.

Gwydion secretly raised the child himself. His growth was rapid; when he was four years old, he was as tall as a boy of eight.

When Gwydion took the boy to her castle, Arianrhod refused to recognise him as her son, saying that he should never have a name until she gave him one. This was a serious thing as to be without a name was to be nothing, in this world or the next.

 Gwydion came up with a plan to trick Arianrhod into naming her son. By magic he formed a boat from seaweed and rushes and some beautiful leather from sedge. Disguised as shoemakers, Gwydion and Llew sailed up to Arianrhod’s castle and began to sew the leather. Arianrhod looked down from her balcony and thought that she would like some new shoes, so she sent her maid down to the shore with her measurements. Gwydion knew that he must force her to come out and first made some shoes too big, then some to small, though both pairs were exquisite. Eventually Arianrhod went down to the boat to be fitted in person.

While Gwydion was fitting the shoes a wren came and perched on the boat. The boy took out his bow and shot the wren through the leg. Arianrhod was impressed. “Truly,” she said “the fair-haired one (“lleu”) has a skilful hand (“llaw gyffes”)!” “Thank you,” Gwydion said, “the boy now has his name – Llew Llaw Gyffes!”

Angry at being tricked, she declared that the boy should never have arms unless she should bestow them.

Nevertheless, Gwydion took Llew home to Dinas Dinllev and brought him up as a warrior. When he was ready, the two returned to Caer Arianrhod, this time disguised as bards. The goddess received them kindly, pleased to hear their songs and stories.

The next morning Gwydion cast a powerful spell that made it appear as though a vast army was descending on the castle. The air rang with shouts and trumpets and the bay seemed full of enemy ships. Arianrhod became afraid and asked Gwydion what she should do. “Give us arms,” he replied, “and we will defend you.” While her maidens armed Gwydion, Arianrhod herself strapped armour onto Llew. Instantly the glamour ended, and it was seen that no army threatened.

Realizing that she had been tricked again, Arianrhod laid a further taboo on Llew – that he should never marry a woman born of the race of men.

Gwydion and his fellow magician Math ap Mathonwy gathered the flowers of oak, broom and meadowsweet to fashion a lovely maiden as a bride for Llew. She was called Blodeuwedd (‘Flower Face’).

Llew and his flower bride lived happily until one day Llew was away and a hunting party arrived, led by Gronw Pebyr. Gronw and Blodeuwedd immediately fell in love and plotted to rid themselves of her husband.

The problem was that he could be killed neither by day nor by night, indoors or out of doors, clothed or naked, riding or walking, nor by any lawfully made weapon. Blodeuwedd tricked Llew into revealing to her that he could only be killed at twilight when on the bank of a river with one foot on the back of a he-goat and the other on the rim of a bath, under a canopy. The spear needed to kill him would take a year to make, working only on Sundays. Armed with this information, Gronw set about making preparations.

When all was ready Blodeuwedd asked Llew to show her how he could balance on a goat and bath at the same time. Llew was more than ready to indulge his young wife’s curiosity and took up his position with one foot on the rim of a bath, the other on the he-goat.

As he teetered there Gronw emerged from the trees and hurled the magical javelin at him, wounding him in the thigh. However, instead of dying, Llew turned into an eagle and flew away.

When Gwydion learned what had happened he set off to find his poor nephew. He searched far and wide until one day he discovered a sow behaving very strangely. It was devouring the maggots and gobbets of flesh that fell from an eagle perched in an oak tree. Gwydion immediately recognized that the eagle was the mortally wounded Llew. Using his magical powers he transformed his nephew back into human shape and took him home to nurse him back to health.

When news of Llew’s recovery reached Blodeuwedd and Gronw they realized that all was up and took flight. With her servants Blodeuwedd tried to cross the river, but her maids were in such a panic they all drowned in the swift flowing waters.

Left alone, the Flower Maiden was soon discovered by Gwydion, who revenged his nephew by changing her into an owl, the most hated of all birds.

Gronw tried to treat with Llew and offered him land and money in reparation. This Llew refused and demanded that Gronw meet him in the place of his treacherous act and allow him to return the favour under the exact same circumstances. The two came to the bank of the river and Gronw took up his position on the goat and cauldron, but pleaded with Llew that since he had come to this pass through the wiles of a woman, Llew should allow him the boon of placing a stone between himself and the blow. This Llew granted, but when he hurled his spear it pierced through the stone and through Gronw too, breaking his back. The stone still lies on the banks of the river Cynfael, with the hole through it, and it is called Llech Gronw or ‘Gronw’s Stone’.

How are we to interpret the myth?

While Arianrhod claims to be a virgin, she gives birth to twin sons.

The story of a birth of a god from a virgin mother is a common one in myth. She is the goddess who creates without needing any external agency. The divine son of a virgin mother is usually a seasonal death and resurrection god, as here Llew clearly is. Many goddesses were called ‘virgin’ despite being married or having lovers.

Twin sons are also fairly common in myth and represent polarities such as the light and dark or summer and winter who fight for rulership of the year. Dylan is the ‘son of the wave’ and Gronw Pebyr is ‘lord of the lake’, another metaphorical twin and rival of Llew in the seasonal battle for the love of the goddess Blodeuwedd, or nature.

Why did Arianrhod seem so harsh? Why did she seem to be denying her son his rights?  And why is she so powerful that Gwydion has to work so hard to outwit her?

Arianrhod the Initiatrix

In myths the hero meets a supernatural figure, perhaps a god or goddess, who sets them upon the path to their destiny.  Often they are associated with a spindle or a wheel, representing fate, and with riddling or testing. Arianrhod gave young Llew his fate when she laid on him three taboos. Her pronouncements are not curses; what she actually says is: “I swear a destiny upon the boy”.

Arianrhod challenged and pushed her son through the path of becoming a man, gaining a name, arms and a bride. She didn’t hand these things to him on a plate, but made him strive for them. He had to accept the will of the Goddess, but he did not surrender, did not give in, but worked within the challenges she set him in order to triumph.

The famous poem of the Welsh bard Taliesin states that he was three times in the castle of Arianrhod, or in other words, he travelled in spirit three times to the mystery at the heart of the universe to gain poetic inspiration directly from its source, the Goddess.

In the court of Ceridwen I did penance,

Pursued by a smiling black hag;

I fled with vigour, I have fled as a frog,
I have fled in the semblance of a crow,

I have fled as a roe into an entangled thicket
I have fled as a wolf cub,

I have fled as iron in a glowing fire,
I have fled as a spear-head,

I have fled as a bristly boar in a ravine,
I have fled as a white grain of pure wheat.
Into a dark leather bag I was thrown,
And on a boundless sea I was sent adrift.
I have been on the galaxy at the throne of the Distributor;
I was in the court of Don before the birth of Gwydion.
I have been three periods in the fort of Arianrhod,
Then I was for nine months
In the womb of the hag Ceridwen.
I was originally little Gwion,
And at length I am Taliesin. [iii]

Like Ceridwen in the story of Gwion who became Taliesin, Arianrhod is a challenging goddess who pushes the hero into wisdom and greatness.

Arianrhod is the initiator, the goddess who challenges the candidate and pushes them to achieve the next step.

The Three Taboos

The first taboo Arianrhod imposes on her son is that he will have no name until she gives him one. She doesn’t say that she is denying him a name.

In earlier times, and today in tribal societies, the naming of a thing or person was a great responsibility. The true name of something encapsulates its essential nature. Even today a child is named in a solemn ceremony and there is a belief that the name chosen will affect the child, in some way shaping its character. Often a child is not felt to be a person at all – or to have its own individual identity – until it is formally named. A person may take a new name with a change of status; for example a boy will assume a new name when he comes to manhood, a woman when she marries, a priest when he is ordained, and a witch when initiated. Taking a new name means taking on a new role and new identity.

Guided by his experienced magician uncle, Llew uses cunning, magic and skill to gain a name from the goddess. Arianrhod sees him hit a wren with his sling, and then names him ‘The One of the Skilful Hand’. With this, he becomes an adult – the child he was, with only the concerns of a child, is left behind.

The shooting of the wren is significant – it is the bird of the sacred king, and it foreshadows his own wounding later in the story. The wren is, in fact, himself. In ancient Welsh tradition the wren is the King of the Birds, triumphing over the Eagle, so this is an act of sacrificial kingship. The wren is hunted and killed at the winter solstice. In stories, kings are often wounded in the leg or groin prior to their demise. When he shoots it, and accepts his name, he assumes the role of the king who must serve the Goddess and sacrifice himself for the land.

Like Llew, the neophytes, guided by magician elders, must learn skill, cunning and magic in order to present themselves to the Goddess for initiation. The first degree initiation changes the status of a member of the coven – with it, they become a priest or priestess.  With it, they accept the path of service, just as Llew does, when he shoots the wren. The initiate takes a new Craft name to denote that they have died and been reborn as a priest or priestess.

The second taboo which Arianrhod pronounces is that he shall have no weapons until she arms him herself. This is very clearly an initiation test, a simple case of “you will receive arms when you have demonstrated your courage and earned the right to them”. The arms he gains will be used to defend his people.

In the second degree, the candidate is summoned to the edge of the circle and asked what they seek within this degree. Whereas in the first degree the candidate replied that they seek knowledge, in this degree the candidate responds that they seek “to better serve the Lord and Lady”. The first degree is about seeking knowledge, about learning, including the difficult job of learning about the self. In the second degree, this must have progressed to the point where the desire has become to serve – not because it makes the priest feel good, or makes people admire him, but because service to others is the way of the priest.

The third test pronounced by Arianrhod is that Llew shall never marry a mortal women. It seems cruel, but we must remember that he is a god and a sacred king. The primary relationship of the Celtic sacred king was with the land. Woven throughout the stories and myths of Celtic heroes and gods is the concept of Sovereignty, the right and authority to rule the land.  This right and authority is derived not from the right of inheritance or brute force, but a woman/goddess who represents the land. By denying him marriage with an ordinary woman, Arianrhod ensured that he would marry the sovereign goddess. Again, Llew could have given up or despaired at being denied a bride, but he sought the help of his uncles, Gwydion and Math, who created a bride out of flowers – oak, broom and meadowsweet – in other words, out of nature itself.

The story of Llew illustrates that the king must only take power in order to serve the land. The third degree initiate takes the grade only in order to serve others more fully. The person who takes it must not do so for his own glory, and must function in an unselfish way, putting the needs of the group or community first.

The Silver Wheel

But there are deeper mysteries here. Arianrhod’s name may derive from the Welsh words arian ‘silver’ + rhod ‘wheel, though her name is also given as Aranrhod from aran meaning ‘immense’ or ’round’ + rhod, meaning ‘wheel’.

Many Celtic gods are depicted with wheels, indicating movement and the passing of time and the seasons.

In Welsh folklore, the Northern Crown, the Corona Borealis, is called Caer Arianrhod, meaning Arianrhod’s Castle. It is near the Pole Star, but not so near that it does not rise and set.

The names of the various castles in Welsh myth relate to the celestial – the Milky Way was Gwydion’s castle, the Corona Borealis was Arianrhod’s castle, and the constellation of Cassiopeia was the location of the Court of Don. Caer Sidi, the revolving castle, is the Pole Star, the still point around which the stars spin, revolving through the seasons.

From our point of view, the stars revolve around the sky, and throughout the year the sun passes through each constellation of the zodiac, which is itself seen as a wheel that weaves our fates.

Arianrhod’s wheel spins the cosmos, weaving the silver threads of the stars and galaxies, and therefore time, the seasons, and fate.  She controls the maelstrom of creative forces at the heart of the cosmos.

The Goddess of the Labyrinth

Another goddess associated with the constellation of the Corona Borealis is the Greek goddess Ariadne, who helped Theseus defeat the Minotaur and escape the labyrinth at Knossos by means of a thread she gave him to lay a trail to the passage through the labyrinth. The jewelled crown he gave her was placed in the stars after her death as the constellation. One name for the Minotaur was Asterion, meaning ‘Starry’, implying a connection of the turns of the labyrinth and the motions of the stars.

In order to win a name, Gwydion and Llew come to the goddess disguised as shoemakers. Both the Irish and Welsh Llew pose as a shoemaker to gain access to a highborn girl or queen. In myth, there is a mysterious connection between sacred kings, shoemakers and labyrinths. In Poland a traditional shoemakers’ dance was connected with a labyrinth. In England the Patriotic Company of Shoemakers had their own turf maze at Kingland near Shrewsbury.

The spiral labyrinth reflects the arms of the Milky Way. The spiral shape, which is the basis of the spider’s web, is an ancient and almost universal symbol of regeneration and rebirth. Spirals are marked on many ancient tombs, coins, floors, and cave walls. They represent the path of the Sun throughout the year, from birth to death and rebirth (the same journey promised to the human soul), the labyrinth that the soul travels into death and the underworld and outward to rebirth. Taliesin wrote that he had been three times in the castle of Arianrhod, indicating a three-fold initiation, treading the path of that labyrinth.

The spinning goddesses of fate are often associated with the stars. In Viking mythology, Frygg’s spindle is said to be the stars of the belt of Orion. Spinning was the province of women and goddesses only, a magical act as the movements imitated the spinning of the cosmos.  Spinning goddesses were once considered to be the most powerful deities of all, and they appear in many mythologies.

Nwyvre

Arianrhod’s husband is Nwyvre (pronounced NOOiv-ruh). His myths have been lost, and there are only a few mentions of him in the Triads remaining. His name comes from nwyf, which means ‘vivacity’, ‘vigour’ or ‘energy’ and rhe, ‘a swift motion’, so his name means something like ‘swiftly moving energy’.

Nwyvre is thought of as the life force that infuses and animates all things, similar to the concept of prana or chi, [iv] giving them health and vitality. Those things that lack nwyvre are dead.

Arianrhod is the active principle, spinning starry matter with threads of magic from the heart of the Cosmos, the source of the divine spark of inspiration. In this regard, Arianrhod and Nwyvre might be compared to Shakti and Shiva in Hindu mythology.

Between the Mabinogion and the Triads, Arianrhod and Nwyvre are said to have four sons:

Gwynn (White)
Fflam (Flame)

Dylan (Wave)

Llew

These can be seen as representing the four elements, with the two great forces of the universe coming together to bring all things into being.

Arianrhod Invocation

Arianrhod, great mother,

Your womb is the dark void of space

Which holds the seed of all potentials

 You are the wheel of life,

You are the beginning and the end and the beginning once again

 Yours is the spiral castle of the stars,

Where we are remade.

 May we glimpse eternity,

And know your light.

 Blessed Be.

 

© Anna Franklin 2020

[i] line Inspired by She Who Altar http://spiralgoddess.com/SheWhoAltar.html

[ii] Jean Markale, Women of the Celts, Inner Traditions International, Vermont, 1986

[iii] Abridged from the original

[iv] The Barddas of Iolo Morganwg, Vol. I., ed. by J. Williams Ab Ithel, [1862], at sacred-texts.com p. 372 p. 373

WHAT IS INITIATION?

The Craft is a mystery tradition that has formal degrees of initiation. In this, it differs from most other forms of modern Paganism.

Some Pagans condemn covens for their exclusivity, their systems of degrees and their titles of high priest and high priestess.  This criticism is understandable when we have characters like Lady Tiggywinkle, who read a book on the Craft a year ago and now she is a high priestess and has even written her own book about it. Or Darth Moloch who is magus of his own dark coven – or at least he is when his Dad lets him stay out late.  Such people have always existed of course, and are found in every branch of Paganism, but it is true to say that the Craft, with its hierarchies and titles, is a magnet for the egomaniacs and lunatic fringe.

However, the Craft degree system – and its hierarchy – provides a stable and firm foundation to assist individual spiritual progress. Candidates are enabled to develop at their own pace by a supportive group setting, under the guidance of an experienced teacher. As they progress, they become able to train and help the less knowledgeable – with each degree comes greater responsibility. Those groups that try to run as democracies where those with no know-how have as much say as those with a great deal, or those groups run by inexperienced [and all too often inflated-ego] individuals with no proper training tend to fall apart very quickly, as do those groups where people are advanced too quickly through the degrees. Over the many years I’ve spent in the Craft, I’ve learned the hard way that the traditional coven set-up is the by far the best way of organising and running a magical group. Every time I, in my ignorance or arrogance, have deviated from its rules, the consequences have been disastrous.

The Craft is a mystery religion, and a system of initiation through various degrees is implicit, and in this it follows very ancient principles. The word ‘mystery’ comes from the Greek musterion meaning a secret rite or doctrine. A follower of the mysteries in ancient Greece was a mystes  or ‘initiate’, a term originating in the word myein meaning ‘to close’ or ‘to shut’ i.e., to close or shut the eyes and mouth, since only initiates were allowed to observe the rituals and these were not to be spoken of to the uninitiated. In the ancient world, the mysteries were not open to everyone, but only to those who were properly trained and prepared, those who were mature and responsible enough to approach them with due reverence and ready for the profound inner changes it would create.

Initiations centered around the theme of death and rebirth, the candidate undergoing the same journey as the God or Goddess; thus the candidates became the ‘twice-born’. They followed the same basic pattern that most Craft initiations follow today, first with training, then the rite proper with ritual purification, warnings and challenges, an ordeal, a binding oath, revelation of the deity and secret symbols, rebirth and consecration as an initiate, followed by a proclamation of the new status of the candidate to all assembled.

Reputable covens ensure that the training for priesthood is thorough and monitored at every stage so that the priest/ess is ready for the degree conferred, is effective, competent, and works connected to the Gods. This training is difficult and requires a high level of commitment over many years. Most people are not willing to put in the time and effort, and this is the main reason why initiation is reserved for a few.

Putting aside those traditions that ‘initiate’ new members as soon as they arrive [in which ‘initiation’ is merely an acceptance into the coven and signifies nothing more] initiation confirms that the candidate has completed adequate training and achieved sufficient spiritual advancement as will enable them to function as a priest/ess.

Many beginners think that initiation is conferred by the ceremony, and that the person involved is thus promoted to a higher rank rather like an army officer. This is far from the truth. The neophyte, having undergone training and taken part of various rituals and spiritual practices, starts to experience a heightened state of consciousness and awareness. He or she is often very confused at this stage, suddenly aware of entities, archetypes, spirits, concepts and ideas that may seem contradictory and confusing. Many people take fright at this point and back away, but providing that the candidate handles this properly, accepting guidance from the elders, initiation will occur as a fundamental change of consciousness, a progression to the next stage. An experienced high priest/ess will recognise when this juncture is reached, and the candidate will be formally initiated: a ritual and magical event that triggers the next stage in the process.

At this point the initiation may fail, leaving the candidate in a spiritual limbo. This can happen for one of two reasons. Firstly, unless the candidate is set, properly prepared and ready to receive and return the power, no initiation can take place; Plato remarked ‘Many who beat the wand, but few who become Bakchoi.’ [i] Secondly, if the initiator is not in contact with the spiritual forces, he or she will fail to initiate the candidate.[ii] There are plenty of people out there claiming higher degrees who don’t even realise they have never had a true initiation.

Initiation is a death and rebirth not symbolically, but in a very real sense. In some tribal societies, the candidate is thought of as a ghost for the duration of the process, until the new birth takes place. He might be buried or coffined in some way, returning to the primordial earth-womb of the Goddess. Often, the initiate identifies himself with the reborn god. In Egypt, for example, in one initiation ceremony described in the Leyden Magical Papyrus, he ‘participated’ in the reconstitution of the scattered body of Osiris, and was reborn with the reincarnated god.[1] The old self can never be reclaimed, and a new self emerges from the old shell: the process is traumatic. It is said of several mountains in Wales, that if one were to spend a night there, one would either come down mad, or a poet [i.e. a bardic initiate]; true initiation is a harrowing process, and one which may lead equally to enlightenment or madness.

This threshold point was deliberately provoked in the initiation rituals of some mystery schools, when the candidates were put through terrifying ordeals involving burial or entombment for days, or being led through the darkness of a labyrinthine cave. In tribal cultures, suffering may be deliberately induced to mimic the crisis which sometimes triggers a shamanic initiation. Shamans may experience ‘death’ by being entombed for up to seven days, during which they experience being dismembered by demons before being re-assembled with new bodies that contain psychic powers. In all parts of the world the dawning of the shaman’s enlightenment begins with a ‘shamanic crisis’, often in adolescence, but sometimes much later.[2] This is a severe illness or breakdown which actually threatens his life, and he lingers for a time between on the threshold of life and death. The shaman is reduced, by the trauma of this incident, to a primal way of thinking and being, and only then can he enter the archetypal primordial state where humans can converse with gods, animals and plants. He experiences the sensation of dissolution and the separation of body from spirit, something that only usually occurs in physical death, and which cannot be compared to astral travel or out of body experiences, or even an initiation in other magical traditions.

Returning from his crisis, the shaman knows, from his own encounters, that the world is alive, that everything has spirit and that we are surrounded by spirits, a viewpoint called animism by anthropologists. When he interacts with the world of spirit, he is practising shamanism, and only then. He may work with a variety of supernatural beings and from these learn how to cure specific illnesses, divination, the mastery of fire, weather magic, hunting magic, the retrieval of lost souls or the accompanying of the souls of dead to the Otherworld, and the removal of curses. He can travel great expanses in spirit flight, hear what is going on at a remote place, send messages over a distance and even shapeshift. Furthermore, he may take on the role of the priest of a community, becoming the bridge between the world of spirits and humankind.[3]

Plutarch commented that the soul at the point of death undergoes the same experience as those who have been initiated into the great mysteries:

“…at first wandering to and fro, and journeys with suspicion through the dark as one uninitiated, and then come all the terrors before the final initiation, shuddering, trembling, sweating, amazement: then one is struck with a marvellous light and is received into pure regions…and bearing his crown joins in the divine communion… and the initiate beholds the uninitiated …huddled together in mud and fog, abiding in their miseries through fear of death and mistrust of the blessings there.” [iii]

We can find many such descriptions of initiations in the ancient accounts, in stories from shamanic cultures, but also in more recent times here in Britain, deriving from the shamanic traditions of our Celtic and Anglo-Saxon ancestors [see my Path of the Shaman for a more full account of this].

Not every aspirant will gain true initiation in this lifetime. If a person encounters many difficulties in the path of initiation the Gods may be telling them they are not ready, or it may just be that they are being tested to see whether they are committed enough to overcome any obstacles. The Gods often interfere in someone’s life to point them in the right direction, or deter them from following the wrong path for them. This is why barriers are placed in the path of the would-be initiate, sometimes by the Gods, and always by the coven. Tests are made ensure the suitability of the candidate – who might not even be aware that they are being tested. In our coven, quests are given that must be pursued and resolved before initiation is even considered.

We do not recognise self-initiation at all. This is not to say that self-initiation is impossible, but successful self-initiation is rare. When people talk about self-initiation, they generally mean what we would refer to as Dedication, a promise to honour and love the Gods and learn of them. True initiation is something much more profound. I’m not even sure it is possible to be your own teacher – you are trying to teach yourself something you do not know, and this is a paradox. It is true that the real teaching comes from the Gods and spirits, but until you have learned how to contact them, how to recognise illusion and self-delusion from truth, this is fraught with danger. Furthermore, the changes the process effects are very difficult to deal with alone. An experienced high priest or priestess will be able to guide the initiate through the stormy waters.  A person can never initiate themselves into a tradition from which they have never had training or approval.

It must be remembered that initiation is not an end goal and the candidate is not perfected at the point of initiation; it is a mark post on the journey of the spirit which is a continuing succession of trials, revelations, back-sliding and progress.

© Anna Franklin, extract from Pagan Ritual, The Path of the Priest and Priestess, Lear Books, 2008

Illustration © Anna Franklin, Pagan Ways Tarot, Schiffer 2015

[1] Christian Jacq, Magic and Mystery in Ancient Egypt

[2] In some places, the role of shaman is hereditary, but only if the spirits have chosen the successor, and he has undergone the crisis.

[3] Anna Franklin, Path of the Shaman, Lear Books,

[i] Quoted in Mircea Eliade From Primitives to Zen, Collins, London, 1967, p 305

[ii] Dion Fortune, Applied Magic, The Aquarian Press, Wellingborough, 1981, p 28

[iii] Quoted in Mircea Eliade From Primitives to Zen, Collins, London, 1967, p 302

CORIANDER – love, cookery and healing

My baby coriander (Coriandrum sativum) plants are coming on. Coriander is a marmite herb – people either love it or hate it.

In Britain, both the fruit (seeds) and fresh leaves are called coriander, while in the US, the seeds keep the name coriander but the leaves take the Spanish name for the plant, cilantro, owing to their extensive use in Mexican cookery.  The Romans were very fond of coriander. They used it in a sophisticated seasoning mixture which included wild celery, coriander, mint, onion, pennyroyal, rue, savory and thyme. Coriander (cilantro) leaves are best used fresh to preserve their volatile oils responsible for the taste and aroma. They can be chopped and sprinkled on curries, stir fries, added to salsas and so on. Try making a coriander pesto instead of a basil one for a taste sensation, or add to your juicer to benefit from coriander leaf’s antioxidants.  The dried seeds, are available whole or ground, but for best results, buy them whole and crush them lightly in a pestle and mortar just before use. They flavour curries, breads, sauces, soups, stews, pastries and sweets and are used commercially to flavour gin.

The leaves and fruit are rich in volatile oils beneficial for the digestive system, what herbalists call a carminative, useful for bloating, gas and indigestion. If coriander is added to the diet, these symptoms may reduce.

Coriander is used as a natural treatment for high cholesterol levels. The acids (linoleic acid, oleic acid, palmitic acid, stearic acid and ascorbic acid) found in coriander help to lower ‘bad’ cholesterol (LDL) and raise ‘good’ cholesterol (HDL). [1] Add some coriander to the diet and add the fresh leaves to fruits and vegetables in your juicer.

Regular consumption of coriander has been shown to reduce blood pressure in many patients suffering from hypertension.[2]

The volatile oils in coriander possess anti-rheumatic and anti-arthritic properties.

Cineole, a phytochemical found in coriander, is thought to have an anti-inflammatory effect. For arthritis and rheumatism, use some coriander in the diet, apply a coriander salve, coriander infused oil or pulverise the leave and use as a poultice.

The volatile oils found in fresh coriander leaves are antiseptic, antimicrobial and healing, and a rinse of coriander leaf infusion will help treat mouth ulcers.

 A well-known home remedy for conjunctivitis is to bathe the closed eyelids with coriander seed tea.

Coriander leaf contains antioxidants to combat damaging free radicals, minerals and vitamins that help in the battle against wrinkles and sagging skin.  They also have a cooling, antiseptic, detoxifying and soothing action. Try making a paste of fresh coriander leaves and mixing them with a little honey, apply to the face, leave 20 minutes and rinse off with warm water.

A hair rinse made from coriander leaf tea will promote new hair growth.

Coriander was used magically too. Pliny wrote that fresh coriander was believed to be aphrodisiac, adding that some thought it beneficial to place coriander beneath the pillows before sunrise. There is some evidence that coriander seeds were placed in Egyptian tombs as a symbol of eternal love and enduring passion. [3] Similarly, in Chinese tradition it was considered both a herb of immortality and an aphrodisiac. [4] It is mentioned several times in the Arabian Nights as arousing sexual desires, and in Europe in the Middle Ages and Renaissance it was considered to provoke lust and love and added to love potions. The seeds were put into the popular drink hippocras which was commonly drunk at Tudor weddings. Culpeper designated coriander as “hot in the first degree”, a herb of Mars, and rather than romantic gentle love and friendship, it is used in spells of lust and passion. Coriander is widely used in love spells, charms and incenses. It can also be used to anoint the candles used in love magic. It can be included in the ritual cup at handfastings and Great Rite celebrations. Add to the handfasting cake.

You can throw coriander seeds instead of confetti at handfastings, and indeed, coriander seeds may have been the original ‘confetti’. The fruits used to be made into the sweets called confits, coated in white or pink sugar. These were thrown into the crowds from the backs of carnival wagons. However, eventually this was thought to be wasteful, and they were replaced by bits of coloured paper, but kept their original name ‘confetti’. [5]

The word coriander is believed to be derived from the Greek word koris which means ‘a bedbug’,  [6] and this is  thought to refer to the strong scent of the leaves, caused by the aldehydic components of the essential oil present, which some people hate and others, like me, love. It is certainly named after a bug in several languages, but the earliest attested form of the word is the Mycenaean Greek written in Linear B syllabic script, reconstructed as koriadnon or koriandron. [7] Now ari means ‘most’ and adnos means ‘holy’ and this is also the derivation of the name of the Minoan goddess of the labyrinth Ariadne’s name, so there may be a lost legend here connecting the two, or at least, coriander must have been considered a very holy herb. Coriander is certainly associated with the Phoenician/Canaanite warrior goddess Ana (Anatu/Anahita), titled Virgin, Mother of Nations, She Who Kills and Resurrects, the consort of Ba’al who wore horns and carried a moon disc. She wore coriander perfume and purple make up for battle. The greatest of gods were afraid of her. Coriander was much valued as a perfume in the ancient world. [8]

CAUTIONS:

Coriander is considered safe in food amounts and when taken by mouth in appropriate medicinal amounts for most people. When coriander comes in contact with the skin it can cause skin irritation and inflammation or an allergic reaction in some people. As always, if you are pregnant or breast-feeding, stay on the safe side and stick to food amounts.  Coriander can slightly lower blood sugar levels, so if you are diabetic, you should monitor these carefully.  It can also lower blood pressure, so if you take medications for hypertension or have low blood pressure, monitor levels carefully. Coriander seeds can have a narcotic effect when consumed in excessive quantity which is perhaps how it became to be known as ‘dizzycorn’.

Coriander Leaf Tea

1 tbsp. fresh coriander (cilantro) leaves

250 ml boiling water

Pour the boiling water over the leaves. Cover and infuse for 5 minutes, strain and drink.

 

Coriander Seed Tea

1 teaspoon of coriander seeds

250 ml water

Lightly crush the seeds and put in a pan with the water, simmer for 15 minutes, remove from the heat and leave to stand for another 5-10 minutes, strain and drink.

 

Infused Coriander Oil

1 tablespoon coriander

250 ml vegetable oil

Crush the coriander seeds in a pestle and mortar. Put into a jar with the oil, fit the lid and leave on a sunny windowsill for 2 weeks, shaking daily. Strain the oil into a sterilised bottle.

 

© Anna Franklin, condensed extract from The Hearth Witch’s Kitchen Herbal, Llewellyn, 2019

[1] P. Dhanapakiam, J. Mini Joseph, V.K. Ramaswamy, M. Moorthi3 & A. Senthil Kumar, The cholesterol lowering property of coriander seeds, (Coriandrum sativum): Mechanism of action, Journal of Environmental Biology, Journal of Environmental Biology January 2008

[2] Qaiser Jabeen, Samra Bashir, Badiaa Lyoussi, Anwar H.Gilani, Coriander fruit exhibits gut modulatory, blood pressure lowering and diuretic activities, Journal of Ethnopharmacology, Volume 122, Issue 1, 25 February 2009, Pages 123-130

[3] Spices of Life in Ancient Egypt, http://www.history.com/news/hungry-history/spices-of-life-in-ancient-egypt, accessed 26.9.17

[4] Julie Brunton-Seal & Matthew Seal, Kitchen Medicine, Merlin Unwin Books Ltd, London, 2010

[5] J.O. Swain, The Lore of Spices, Grange Books, London, 1991

[6] J.O. Swain, The Lore of Spices, Grange Books, London, 1991

[7] John Chadwick, The Mycenaean World. Cambridge University Press, 1976

[8] ibid