Archive for the ‘The Gods’ Category

Of all the known witches of the past, the figure of Medea is most representative of some of the oldest, darkest pagan arts still known to man. As such, it is fitting that she be the first in what I intend on being a series of articles for the Mists exploring the individual tales of the witches of the ancient world from archaeological, historic, and literary perspectives (entertaining rather than erudite ones, I promise!). So sit back, relax, and imagine yourself round a primeval campfire listening attentively to the ancient tale of Medea: princess, priestess, scorned wife, and witch.

The Romance & Plight of Medea

Once upon a time, long long ago, in Colchis on the far eastern end of the Black Sea, there was a princess called Medea. And one day, a band of travelers came to Colchis, in search of the Golden Fleece which belonged to King Aeëtes, Medea’s father. The travelers, known to posterity as the Argonauts after their ship, The Argo; were led by Prince Jason of Iolcus; who had been challenged by his throne usurping Uncle Pelias, to capture the fleece and bring it back in return for the crown. King Aeëtes received Jason’s delegation amicably and decreed that if Jason could complete three epic challenges, Jason could sail away with the Fleece. Medea, present for their meeting and seeing Jason, either of her own volition or cursed by Aphrodite and Eros, the gods of l’amour, fell instantly in love with Jason. And unbeknownst to her father, agreed to help him in return for his hand in marriage and his making an offering to her goddess Hekate. At each of the challenges, Medea used her magick and herb-craft to keep Jason safe and bring him triumph: Medea gave him an herbal charm to protect him from the fiery breath of the Khalkotauroi (bronze oxen); advised him as to the best way to defeat a magickal group of soldiers sprung from dragon’s teeth; and gave him a sleeping potion to use on the fearsome dragon that guarded the Fleece.

With the challenges complete and the Fleece won, Jason whisked Medea away from her homeland with her protesting father and brother giving chase. In the resulting skirmish, Medea’s brother, Apsyrtus, is killed, thus angering the gods. Now cursed, Jason and Medea head to sea and back into the odyssey-like vignettes that characterized the Argonaut’s initial voyage to Colchis; except this , they have Medea and her magick to aid them. Initially, at the ship’s request (that’s right, The Argo could talk), they stop at the island home of Medea’s aunt, the sorceress Circe of Homeric fame, to have the ship magickally cleansed for the crime against Apsyrtus. Continuing on, post-purification, the Argonauts run into the sirens; before travelling on to Crete, which was guarded by a robot-like bronze guardian called Talos. Medea be-spelled Talos long enough to wound him fatally ~ using her apparent knowledge of metallurgical magickal arts to know the golem’s weak point.

Next they sailed to Jason’s home of Iolchus, at which point in the story, it is often assumed that Medea and Jason have been officially married; but alas, even with a foreign wife of noble blood and the Golden Fleece in tow, Pelias would not give up his brother’s crown to Jason, its rightful heir. It thus falls to Medea to get the kingship back for her husband. And so Medea tricks Pelias’ three daughters into believing that she can return the aged Pelias back to youth. Having given Jason’s father Aeson back some of his youth, she is rumored to have power over life and death. So she shows them a ritual similar to the one she performed for Aeson, whereby an elderly ram is chopped up, brewed in a cauldron of magickal herbs, and comes back out as a lamb; and then instructs the daughters to do the same for their father. They merrily (and gruesomely) chop him up, but Medea withholds the correct magickal formula for the herbs, and Pelias remains old, and dead. Unfortunately, Medea’s ploy to win the crown for her handsome hubby backfires: the people of Iolcus, led by Jason’s cousin and Pelia’s son, Acastus, run Jason and Medea out of town for her trickery.

Jason and Medea then flee to Corinth and set up shop. And they have two children, usually said to be sons. But in the Greek culture of the historic classic period, when the tales of Jason and Medea were finally written down; a foreign wife, like Medea, did not have citizenship: leaving the family status and Jason’s prestige in the lurch. Yearning for more power, Jason claims his family at home is not legitimate given Medea’s dubious legal status; and he ends up betrothed to the local Princess Glauce (sometimes called Creusa). Medea, furious, vows revenge, and sends a poisoned wedding dress to the lucky princess. Glauce and her father, King Creon, both die by the dress; leaving Jason once again without a throne to look forward to. And in some versions of the tale, Jason accosts Medea, only to learn that she has also murdered their two children, fearing both Jason’s wrath and the wrath of the citizen’s upon them for her regicide (Although in one version it is the crowd which kills the children; after Euripides’ play featuring the above storyline, few have deviated from the more dramatic element of Medea killing them herself).

Medea is swept away from Corinth by her grandfather, the sun god Helios and continues to travel around Greece. She first takes refuge in Thebes with her friend and former Argonaut, now the King, Herakles (Hercules,) before again being cast out when word of her wicked reputation reaches the Thebans. Next she takes refuge in Athens, where she meets and married King Aegeus, father of the hero Theseus and namesake of the Aegean Sea around Greece. Medea, now a skilled political schemer, arranges for her new son (some say by Jason, others by Aegeus), Medus, to become the heir apparent for the Athenian crown; and all goes well until Theseus appears and claims his birthright. Attempting to win the crown for her son, Medea attempts to kill Theseus and is caught in the act by Aegeus who promptly kicks her and Medus out of Athens. They run back home to Colchis, where Medea dethrones an evil uncle and puts one of her other brothers on the throne. And then, according to Herodotus at least, Medea and Medus move farther east into Iran where they become the namesakes of the Medes, an early incarnation of the cultural group that will eventually become the ancient Persians.

Jason, meanwhile, regains his throne in Iolcus, but lives out his life scorned by the gods for reneging on his promises to Medea. Ultimately, aged and ruined, he takes up residence under the remains of his once glorious ship, the Argo; only to be killed when the rotting wood of the hull fell apart on his head.

How do we know Medea’s Story?

Medea’s story is a tale of a woman scorned; the tale of the Hester Prynne & Scarlet Letter of the Ancient World. Her story is both the simple, heart-rending quest of a woman looking for love a la the Lifetime Channel; and a complex wander through the realms of ancient Greek myth. Even the basic tale of Medea is a sprawling epic of many names, multiple places, and considerable socio-political and fairy tale elements. It would have been told orally for possibly a millennia before it was ever written down, with elements added, subtracted, and altered to reflect the understanding of the audiences it was being told to. For instance, take the dubious legal loophole through which Jason divorces Medea. This is an element of the political and legal system of classical Athens circa the 5th century BCE, but in the story it is applied to the period of the tale, which is typically dated to have occurred (if it did indeed occur in any way, shape, or form) sometime around the 12th century BCE at the beginning of the Greek Dark Ages. But not everything is reworked and old elements slip in, staying because they are fragments of society still in use or those recognized as ancient: for instance the use of bronze when by now the Greeks had discovered harder metals; or the idea of their being a King of Athens and Corinth, when by the classic period, only Sparta had kings, most other city-states had adopted other more democratic forms of government.

The tale above is one I have amalgamated for you, as a timeline of Medea, taken from the primary historic literary versions of her tale. Each of those stories varies in its details and some only tell part of her tale, relying on the pop culture knowledge of its contemporary audience, much of which we are no longer aware of, to fill in the blanks. Although Hesiod, Pindar, and Herodotus both mention her, the earliest full source is Euripides classic play Medea , a tragedy which was written and performed first in ancient Athens in 431 BCE century and onwards and which focuses only on Medea’s time in that same city, though it mentions earlier events and foreshadows later ones within its script. It is considered the classic version of the story, as well as one of the most venerated plays in all of theatric history. Next comes Apollonius of Rhodes’ Alexandrine epic The Argonautika from the third century BCE. This text is unique in its romantic and epic language, and its use of extensive research to fill in the earlier portions of the story in particular. For Apollonius was a scholar at the library of Alexandria and in writing his tale, he preserved for us snippets of earlier texts, poems, and oral lore which recounted the melancholy tale of Medea. A smattering of others reference her in between classical Greece and Imperial Rome until finally there is Seneca’s Medea and Ovid’s 1st century AD versions of her in his Metamorphoses and The Heroides (which translates to The Heroines), which Ovid based on the classical mythology and clues from the decorative artwork of Greece that had been handed down to the culture of Rome. Ovid was much enamored of the story of Medea, and indeed wrote a third, full length text telling her tale which has sadly been lost to mankind by the ravages of time. However, his Metamorphoses provides ample anthropological details on the magickal rites of Medea and therefore what was considered pop culture magick or ancient ritual by his time period, and his Heroides delivers a poignant “letter” of Medea’s story, telling the tale as if from the point of view of the witch herself.

The Anthropological Background of Medea

Medea, an eastern figure, enters what we now know as Greek myth at an important time in proto-history; as the eastern European tribes of the Asian steppes migrated into the Balkan Peninsula, mixing with the so-called Pelagasian population that was already living in what is now modern day Greece. The mixture of populations as thus would have resulted first in a period of cultural conflict as the two societies’ belief systems and sacred stories fought for supremacy before ultimately settling into an amalgamated version which reflected the dominance of one and the submission of the other. In other words, the two sets of stories got shoved together and the powerful witch/goddess of Eastern legend becomes subject to and wife of the more western hero Jason; with the role of Medea and her dark arts possibly considerably toned down from what they may have once been and twisted to cast her as the villain. The culture that resulted from the mix of the Eastern nomads and the “Pelagasians” becomes the Mycenaean society of Dark Age Greece, circa 1200-800 BCE. Homer’s Odyssey and Iliad, contemporaries of the story of Jason and the Argonauts, are likewise born from this same mish-mashing of East meets West, and indeed all three stories cross-reference each other considerably, both in the use of the same characters and the use of certain linguistic phrases to describe people, places, actions, and cultural facets.

Medea’s story, in particular, is an ethical quagmire of the ancient world. Undeniably a villain for much of her tale, she starts off as the bright, innocent heroine, eager to help her hero succeed. Through circumstance and experience she is shaped into the nasty piece of work the society of her tale needed her to be in order to understand her place within their contemporary mythology. Medea, as a woman, was too powerful for them to begin with. Her magick afforded her a weapon against society, which put her on equal stance with men and allowed her loopholes around the burgeoning legal rules which ancient Greek society was starting to view as necessary and unbreakable. Her role as an outsider, a member of a barbarian nation to the East who has migrated into the “civilized” world of the Greek city-states, adds to the fear surrounding Medea. She becomes the misogynist’s boogeyman, terrifying three millennia’s’ worth of men with the tales of her magickal destruction and her symbolic role as the ultimate woman scorned. Even when sympathetic versions of her are introduced, like Ovid’s letter from Medea to Jason in the Heroides: she cannot even excuse herself for the evil acts she has and is about to commit. Modern opinions of Medea are perhaps more lax, in that expanded women’s rights and increased general psychological knowledge give us a deeper insight into the mind of Medea, who’s actions, though still not excusable, can be arguably seen as having a motive.

The later sections of Medea’s journey are also of anthropological note as not only does Medea travel from her native Colchis, she moves from Greek city-state to city state: Colchis to Iolcus to Corinth to Thebes to Athens, back to Colchis, and then potentially to the Iranian plateau. This could speculatively be associated with the cult of Medea or an ancient sorceress/goddess figure quite like her, moving across the prehistoric landscape and being variously adopted and then neglected just before or during the so-called Greek Dark ages (1200 to 800 BCE). But even with this cult gone, a vague memory of it lingered into the historic period to be included as one of the tourist stops along Medea’s life voyage.

The sometime finale to the story of Medea killing her children could also be explained as a regional variation of this religious following. In Athens, there is indeed evidence of an early mother goddess cult, often associated with Hera and Medea alike, which involved either the ritual death of children or else was in honor of the early death of children and the mourning mothers (let’s hope the latter). In Corinth there are indications of a cult specifically focusing on Medea and Jason’s two deceased children themselves. Temple excavations at several archaic Greek sites associated with this early mother goddess group contain the burials of children within or around the foundations of the building. Although macabre to modern tastes, this focus on death, especially the death of young people, is common throughout world cultures, both ancient and modern; especially in the developing stage between a nomadic existence and settling down in towns and cities. In the ancient Near East, it was quite common for the bodies of younger members of societal groups to be relegated to distinct burial areas separate from the living spaces and the adult burial grounds; either in commemoration, or in fear that those who had not had a chance to live would retaliate on the still-living or their remains.

Another possible cult detail hidden within Medea’s tale regards the use of Pelias’ three daughters. In almost all versions of the story, they are basically seen as faux-initiates of Medea who are meant to learn magickal workings from her but are ultimately, for political/vengeful reasons, not allowed into the full secrets of Medea’s magickal craft. This is potentially indicative of some element of the cult whereby magickal knowledge was transferred from teacher to student until ultimately, with the cult’s downfall, the power of the magick faded and initiates were left in the dark, literally.

Exploring the Witchcraft of Medea

The sheer antiquity of the character of Medea is also attested to in the types of magick Medea practices within what remains of her tale. Medea’s magick is not the ritual temple magick, secret devotion, or cosmopolitan charlatanism that came to dominate the classical Greek period: it is a darker breed altogether. Medea acts more as a tribal shaman cum medicine woman of the older hunter-gatherer days. Her ways are less the ways of the city-states she visits and more those of the countryside and the mysterious “other” of foreign lands outside the realm of “civilized” society. She is a darker, chthonic goddess of life and death, power and destruction. She builds kingdoms and watches them fall, only to help them rebuild again. Her magicks, like her, are representative of the older ways on the outskirts of the Greek culture that built the city and the myth around her.

Medea is first and foremost, a devotee of the goddess Hekate. But whereby the acts and devotions of priestesses of her ilk had become privatized by the classical Greek period when her story was written down, Medea, wild-child that she is perceived to be, practices her prayers in public and private alike. She has no qualms about involving others in her rituals and at multiple points in her story invites others to witness her magick, pushing them away only at the peak of ritual thus preserving only a small element of secrecy. Apollonius has Medea and Jason perform an offering prior to his trials together, where in she instructs him on how to invoke magick herself. And in most versions, Pelias’ daughters as well as a possible royal retinue witness the midnight youth ritual both the times she conducts it properly and the time she purposefully does not, again, only being kicked out for a brief portion of the ritual. Despite these witnesses, Medea’s magick is not the communal magick of a temple, it is a personal relationship with a goddess. It is an individual chanting alone in a sacred grove rather than a throng singing together as a priest makes a sacrifice.

Medea’s affinity for Hekate runs in the family. Her mother Idyia, her aunt Circe, and potentially her sister, are likewise devotees of the goddess and of her student the goddess Artemis/Diana. Intriguingly, most versions of Medea’s story indicate that a grove or shrine sacred to the goddess existed near the “palace” of King Aeëtes in Colchis. Colchis, or Kolkhis, is not so much a city as a region in modern day Georgia (the country, not the state mind you ~ you have no idea how often that confuses people). King Aeëtes would have not been so much the ruler of a city and its people as the leader of one large or several nomadic groups along the edge of the Black Sea, with a potentially movable “capital” and immovable sacred sites. Ovid’s Heroides insists that not only is there a grove, but that in it, is a golden statue of Diana, “wrought by barbarian hands” ~ an anthropological detail backed by archaeological and historical evidence of the religious practices of the Balkan and Caucasus regions around the Black Sea: sacred groves with central features, often a statue, which has been embedded with precious metals. Notably there is the later sanctuary at Sarmizegetuza in modern day Romania, which was built over a pre-existing sacred site quite similar to the sacred grove in Colchis under discussion. However, for all that there are sacred sites which Medea works her magick in, she and her magick are not tied to the site alone. She does not have to be working within the confines of the goddesses’ sacred space, be it a grove or a temple, in order to call upon the goddess. She uses her powers this just as easily from the bow of The Argo, in a field outside Iolcus, and in the streets of Athens as she does at the beginning of her story in the grove of her goddess.

Medea’s magickal litany consists of several practices which are still highly regarded within witchcraft today; namely: the arts of invocation, purification, herb-lore, and rituals combing these elements. It is her herb craft which distinguishes her more as a witch and less a simple pagan priestess. She uses her herbal skills multiple times throughout her life: twice to help win the Golden Fleece, in the youth ritual for the ram and Pelias, and as a poison against Glauce, her father, and later Theseus. She also uses her herbs to heal, in what are often side notes to the primary tale which are typically disregarded or made little of because they cast the wicked witch in a more positive role. Even I have left some of these side-notes out of my narrative above because they are often just that, side notes to the primary tale. Medea heals several of the Argonauts while on board ship, most notably the highly controversial and only female Argonaut, Atalanta. She heals and makes younger Jason’s father, Aeson. And she also cures Hercules when she visits him later in Thebes. Ironically, Hercules would eventually succumb to the same kind of “poisoned-outfit death” Medea had previously sentenced Glauce to just before she visited Hercules.

The biggest magickal feat she performs, however, is arguably the youth ritual at Iolcus. And it is this which I would like to leave you with as the pinnacle of Medea’s magick. [Please note, do not try this ritual at home ~ even if you can find a dragon to take you round to collect all the ingredients: don’t even think about repeating it!] Ovid’s rendition of this magickal feat is, in my opinion, the best of the bunch, albeit the one that takes the most mythological license.

“Three nights remained before the moon’s bright horns
Would meet and form her orb; when she shone
In fullest radiance and with form complete
Gazed down upon the sleeping lands below.
Medea, barefoot, her long robe unfastened,
Her hair upon her shoulders falling loose,
Went forth alone upon her roaming way,
In the deep stillness of the midnight hour.
Now men and birds and beasts in peace profound
Are lapped; no sound comes from the hedge; the leaves
Hang mute and still and all the dewy air
Is silent; nothing stirs; only the stars
Shimmer. Then to the stars she stretched her arms,
And thrice she turned about and thrice bedewed
Her locks with water, thrice a wailing cry
She gave, then kneeling on the stony ground,

‘O night’ , she prayed, ‘Mother of mysteries,
And all ye golden stars who with the moon
Succeed the fires of day, and thou, divine
Three-formed Hecate, who knowest all
My enterprises and dost fortify
The arts of magic, and thou, kindly earth,
Who dost for magick herbs provide;
Ye winds and airs, ye mountains, lakes, and streams,
And all ye forest gods and gods of night,
Be with me now! By your enabling power,
At my behest, broad rivers to their source
Flow back, their banks aghast; my magick song
Rouses the quiet, calms the angry seas;
I bring the clouds and make the clouds withdraw,
I call the winds and quell them; by my art
I sunder the serpents’ throats; the living rocks
And mighty oaks from out their soil I tear;
I move the forests, bid the mountains quake,
The deep earth groan and ghosts rise from their tombs.
Thee too, bright Moon, I banish, though thy throes
The clanging bronze assuage; under my spells
Even my grandsire’s chariot grows pale
And the dawn pales before my poisons’ power.
You at my prayer tempered the flaming breath
Of the dread bulls, you placed their necks,
Necks never yoked before, the curving plough;
You turned the warriors, serpent-born, to war
Against themselves; you lulled at last to sleep
The guardian that knew not sleep, and sent
Safe to the homes of Greece the golden prize.
Now I have need of essences whose power
Will make age new, bring back the bloom of youth,
The prime years win again. These you will give.
For not in vain the shimmering stars have shown,
Nor stands in vain, by winged dragons drawn,
My chariot here.’ And there the chariot stood,
Send down from heaven her purpose to fulfill.

She mounted, stroked and harnessed dragon’s necks,
Shook the light reins and soared into the sky,
And gazing down beheld, far far below,
Thessalian Tempe; then the serpent’s course
She set of regions that she knew of old.
The herbs that Pelion and Ossa bore,
Othyrs and Pindus and that loftiest peak,
Olympus, she surveyed those that pleased
Some by the roots she culled, some with the curve
Of her bronze blade she cut; many she chose
Beside Apidanus’ green banks and many
Beside Amphrysus; now was swift Enipeus
Exempt; Peneus too and the bright stream
Of broad Spercheus and the reedy shores
Of boeb gave their share, and from Anthedon
She plucked the grass of life, not yet renowned
For that sea-change the Euboean merman found.

And now nine days had seen her and nine nights
Roaming the world, driving her dragon team.
Then she returned; the dragons, though untouched
Save by the wafting odor of the those herbs,
Yet sloughed their aged skins of many years.
Before the doors she stopped nor crossed the threshold;
Only the heavens covered her; she shunned
Jason’s embrace; then two turf altars built,
The right to Hecate, the left to youth,
Wreathed with the forest’s mystic foliage,
And dug two trenches in the ground beside
And then performed her rites. Plunging a knife
Into a black sheep’s throat she drenched the wide
Ditches with blood; next from the chalice poured
A stream of wine and from a second chalice
Warm frothing milk, chanting magick words,
Summoned the deities of the earth and prayed
The sad shades’ monarch and his stolen bride
That, of their mercy, from old Aeson’s frame
They will not haste to steal the breath of life.

And when in long low-murmured supplications
The deities were appeased, she bade bring out
The old exhausted king, and with a spell
Charmed him to deepest sleep and laid his body,
Lifeless it seemed, stretched on a bed of herbs.
Away! She ordered Jason and Away!
The ministrants and warned that eyes profane
See not her secrets; then with streaming hair,
Ecstatic round the flaming altars moved,
And in the troughs of blood dipped cloven stakes
And lit them dripping at the flames, and thrice
With water, thrice with sulfur, thrice with fire
Purged the pale sleeping body of the king.

Meanwhile with the deep bronze cauldron, white
With bubbling froth, the rich elixir boils.
Roots from the vales of Thessaly and seeds
And flowers from the farthest Orient
And sand that Ocean’s ebbing waters wash,
And hoar-frost gathered when the moon shines full,
And wings and flesh of owls and the warm guts
Or wolves that change at will to human form.
To them she adds the slender scaly skins
Of Libyan water-snakes and then the livers
Of long-living gazelles and eggs and heads
Of ancient crows, nine generations old.
With these and a thousand other nameless things
Her more than mortal purpose she prepared.

Then with a seasoned stick of olive wood
She mixed the whole and stirred it. And behold!
The old dry stick that stirred the bubbling brew
Grew green and suddenly burst into leaf,
And all at once was laden with fat olives;
And where the froth flowed from the pot
And the hot drops spattered the ground beneath,
Fair springtime bloomed again, and everywhere
Flowers of the meadow sprang and pasture sweet.
And seeing this Medea drew her blade
And slit the old king’s throat and let the blood
Run out and filled his veins and arteries
With her elixir; and when Aeson drank,
Through wound and lips, at once his lips and beard,
White for long years, regained their raven hue;
His wizened pallor, vanquished, fled away
And firm new flesh his sunken wrinkles filled,
And all his limbs were sleek and proud and strong.
Then Aeson woke and marveled as he saw
His prime restored forty years before.”

Bibliography of Secondary Sources

Cleasby, H.L., 1907. The Medea of Seneca. Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, Vol. 18, pp. 39-71.
Clauss, J.J., and Johnston, S.I. (eds.), 1997. Medea: Essays on Medea in Myth, Literature, and Philosophy. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Cockburn, G. 2005. Lecture series on Medea: Analysis & Interpretation. Durham University

Further Sources:
Medea and Witchcraft in Classical Greek Art
The Medea Tradition presented by Wesleyan College
(For classical, primary sources, please see links embedded in the text)

Petra is one of those places that has to be seen to be believed. Sure, it looks mega fabulous in films and documentaries, but it’s nothing like the pop culture simulacra the media has invented for it. The real place is so magnificent, so eye-popping and jaw dropping, it can only be defined as nothing less than an awe-inspiring, and truly religious experience.

An iconic site, Petra sits nestled in the Shara Mountains in southern Jordan. The Shara are sacred peaks, associated with the cult center of the Nabataean god Dhushara, lord of the mountains and son of all fates. But Petra isn’t just that one gorgeous building from Indiana Jones and the last Crusade (which is actually called al-Khazneh or the Treasury) nor is it just the Tomb of the Primes featured so prominently in last year’s Transformers 2 (which is typically actually called the al-Deir Monastery): it’s a vast cosmopolitan complex of sandstone wonder carved into a series of canyons and mountain tops over a series of approximately 36 square miles. You need days and days and oodles of energy to cover at least a partial hike of all the various sections of Petra proper (not to mention Little Petra several miles away from the more tourist-y central area). But it’s worth it, and if you ever get the chance to visit: do it. Just don’t forget comfortable shoes and a water bottle.

At the end of this last winter, I had two wonderful days out of my dig schedule to tour. The first I spent simply wandering through the ultra-tourist-y sections of the site. Petra, especially during high season in the fall, is exceptionally crowded. But as it’s an exceptionally big place, there’s always room for everyone to have their turn and pose for photos next to all the essential spots. And there truly never will be another moment in my life quite like walking up the long processional Siq and coming to its end and seeing al-Khazneh for the first time. It’s very Indiana Jones (and yes, my fellow archaeologists and I even had the theme song playing in the background off an I-pod to reinforce that notion) and it is a not-to-be-missed moment for anyone who has ever dreamed of seeing the world. However as impressive as it is now, imagine how amazing and magickal it would have been centuries ago as a culminating point for sacred parades. Hundreds would have trekked through the winding canyons to reach the space in front of al-Khazneh. Perhaps by torch light or by day light, the festive parishioners would have carried offerings; leaving some at the tiny altars carved into the walls they passed, and reserving others for the final destination. Sacred songs or chants, perhaps even dances would have been performed, but alas little is known of the ritual minutiae associated with this marvelous ritual landscape. However, participants would have come not necessarily to see al-Khazneh, but to have born witness to what was going on above it. For the cliffs above “the Treasury” rise ultimately to the High Place of Sacrifice, which for centuries, perhaps even pre-dating the more famous architecture below, a large basalt rectangle on a wind-swept plateau served as the ultimate offering place to the gods.

The High Place of Sacrifice, a two hour hike up and around the mountains is not often on the general tour. Typically a visit of Petra proper consists of a wander through the famous tombs, a stroll, or as in my latest visit, a camel ride across the Roman center of the city (which features the only remaining standing building, a later temple to the goddess al-Uzza), and a hike up a particularly treacherous mountain to see both the al-Deir Monastery and a panoramic of the site below.
The tombs stand out as the most prominent remaining feature, and many assume it was simple a necropolis. But what most people don’t realize about Petra is that it was a city of the living AND a city of the dead. Tombs and homes alike were carved into the mountain or else homes were built freestanding just beyond the ancestral tombs. And the living did not just live among the dead, they interacted with them on a frequent basis, often leaving feasts for the dead in the tombs and having celebratory feasts of their own. Later tombs, like the Tomb of the Obelisk just outside the Siq, even incorporated this element into their design and feature a special central room encircled with stone benches for the living to sit on as they enjoy their macabre meal. The close family ties this type of ritual communion implies and the respect of ancestors must have been a particularly satisfactory form of worship, because many of the Romans that were stationed in Nabataea, particularly the higher up commanders converted: living, dying, and being entombed according to local customs.

On the second day of my recent visit, in an effort to see some more of the quieter, less well known bits of Petra, I hiked even further off the beaten tourist path. Veering off just before the Siq a winding sandstone canyon, worn silky smooth by years of flood run-off, leads
up to an area of Petra called Moghar al-Nasara: a section of Petra you are virtually guaranteed to have to yourself on any given day. The canyon, a processional route, like most canyons round Petra, is dotted with carved altar niches to the various local gods. Some are topped with their totem symbols, and others, worn smooth by the wind, sand, and reverent hand, are mysteries even to the contemporary Bedouin tribe who work among the ruins. Several of the niches even contained recent offerings of stacked stones and small change. Upon encountering a particularly well worn niche which featured an intact and simple crescent moon above it (the symbol of the goddess al-Uzza), I too left a small offering of coins. I’m not sure how much of the goddess’ favor I can curry with 35 piastres, but I do really believe that it’s the thought that counts.

Towards the far end of the long and winding canyon, the niches take on a more decidedly Roman flavor with inscribed columns, more pronounced pediments, and a drastic increase in size. One along the way was more than 600 times the size of the regular 15×9-ish niches and more resembled a doorway. This change in style is not surprising however, considering that the canyon ultimately ends in another canyon, perpendicular to the first and parallel to the Siq farther south. This canyon is haphazardly lined with dozens upon dozens of purportedly later tombs, the nucleus of the later Roman enclave of Petra as the center of the region moved farther and farther away from the previous center below the High Place of Sacrifice and more towards the water sources farther southeast. The later Islamic period township is likewise even farther removed and the modern town of Wadi-Musa is even farther beyond that.

Seriously though, if you can go to Petra. Don’t leave it on your bucket list until it’s too late. Not only will it be a pain in the you know what unless you can get an ass to ride you round it; but carved as it was into the local sandstone: Petra is eroding away. Older tombs are already soft washed and blend into the background of the canyons, leaving only the odd opening shapes or occasional pediment to temporarily mark their passing. Petra is melting away into the desert cliff faces, blending in with the Gaudi-like landscape that the ancient Nabataeans changed to suit their religious and urban aspirations over two millennia ago.

With all the recent attention focused on Iceland and the eruption of the volcano Eyjafjalljökull, it seems fitting to devote an article to this beautiful but dangerous island nation’s pagan past.

Iceland was once a bastion of the Norse, often better known in pop culture (like the recent film How to Train Your Dragon), as the Vikings. The Norse were a culture of warriors and farmers, who controlled much of Northern Europe from approximately the 8th century to the 11th century AD. Much of what we know about these ancient people is from later medieval Icelandic texts which escaped the rising tide of Christianity that destroyed similar manuscripts on mainland Europe.

Of these, the Prose and Poetic Eddas, preserved primarily by historian and poet Snorri Sturluson or in compendium texts like the Codex Regius, reveal the most about ancient Norse religious beliefs, mythology, and ethics than any other historical sources. Whole tomes could be, and have been, written on these lovely Icelandic texts, but I would like to draw your attention here to the Hàvamàl, my particular favorite section of the Poetic Edda and one of the most understated but important ancient texts from around the world in terms of learning to live a spiritually fulfilling and magickal life.

Hàvamàl means “words of the wise one,” and given some of the text’s content is devoted to Odin and it is located within the Poetic Edda surrounded by further tales of Odin, is it assumed that this ‘wise one’ is the great god of the Norse pantheon, Odin. Within the Hàvamàl are two particularly magickal sections devoted exclusively to Odin. The first of these, comprising the 138th to 146th stanzas is entitled the Rúnatal and features, among other tales of Odin, a first person narrative of Odin’s blót (sacrifice) on the world tree Yggsdrasil, which earned him the secrets of the runes.

“I know that I hung on the windy tree
Nine whole nights, wounded with the spear,
Given to Odin, myself to myself,
On the tree that sprang from roots
No man knows of.

They gave me neither bread, nor drink from the horn.
I peered down.
I took up runes, howling I took them,
And then fell back.

Nine monstrous songs I learnt from the glorious
Son of Bolthor, Bestla’s father.
And one draught I took of the glorious mead
Poured from Odrerir.

Then I began to quicken, to become fertile,
To grow tall and to thrive.
From a word, one word led to another.
From a deed, one deed let to another.”

It is one of the most mysterious and evocative passages among Norse manuscripts. The esoteric ritual it represents may or may not have been a dramatization of an actual ritual used to initiate students into the secrets of runology, which therefore would have most likely featured more modest elements: perhaps a nine day fast while meditating beneath a sacred tree which culminated in the singing of certain songs, the drinking of mead, and an introductory first throwing of the rune stones accompanied by a howl of passion. The story and the potential ritual elements it features are both anthropologically conceivable for Norse culture but at the same time strikingly reminiscent of other religious elements, particularly the figure of the god crucified on the tree, pierced by a spear; which smacks a bit of Christian influence and may have been added to the story at a later date.

The second portion of the Hàvamàl relating to Odin, and the conclusion of the Regius Codex version of the Hàvamàl, the Ljóđatal (stanzas 147-163-5), is often referred to as “a catalogue of chants.” However it is not so much a compendium of magickal spells as it is Odin boasting of the eighteen magickal powers only he knows the spell-chants for (or only sixteen, depending on which manuscript one consults). The concluding of these is one of the most amusing bits of religious texts:

“This eighteenth I know, I shall never tell
To maid, to man’s wife-
Better it is if only one knows;
It is the last of my chants –
Except perhaps for she who holds me in her arms,
Or perchance my sister.”

Odin keeps the purpose of the eighteenth charm a secret, one he says he will only share with his own wife or his sister. However Frigg, Odin’s wife, is also an adept at divine magick like Odin so will presumably not need to be told this final secret. And Odin has no sister. So when he promises he will tell the secret only to her or his wife, he is cunningly saying he will tell no one.

It is, however, the opening two sections of the Hàvamàl, which I find particularly appealing and useful in the day to day art of living. The latter, the Loddfáfnismál (stanzas 111-137) is directed to the “stray singer,” perhaps a wandering bard type figure; and gives him a series of moral and ethical advice as to how he specifically should react in rather specialized circumstances. The former section, that which in fact opens the Hàvamàl is the Gestapáttr or “Guest’s section” (stanzas 1-79). It too offers moral advice to the reader. What is important to realize is that the ancient Norse religion was not a dogmatic one. It did not have organized priesthoods watching over the people, dictating how they should live. It was a more personal experience than that. Each man, was, to a certain extent, his own priest. And as such believed not only in a shared knowledge of the stories of the gods, but in a way of living: a way of conducting their daily lives and their interactions with their fellow man.

As a collection of proverbs, these sections advocate both the need to live well and wise in order to be fulfilled and the need for conducting oneself using common sense. It emphasizes a spiritual awareness of one’s own practical wisdom in order to succeed in the world. It also uniquely stresses the notion that man is ultimately a social creature, and in order to achieve fulfillment within one’s culture, one must acknowledge that and be aware of the rules of engagement between friends, enemies, and strangers. It specifically offers sage words of wisdom on how to treat guests, how to be a guest (hence the section’s title as ‘the guest’s section’), how to treat friends and enemies, and contains admittedly outdated advice on how to interact with members of the opposite sex. It advises its Vikings not to overeat and get fat, to gain as much wisdom as possible in all matters of the world, and to appreciate what you have rather than lust after what you don’t. The moral codes emphasized in the Hàvamàl went on to form the basis of Icelandic law, a system which included the first parliamentary system and has been a model for most other democratic nations in the world.

Just as it is still referenced in modern Iceland on a day to day basis, many of its creeds are still applicable today in your personal life.

The first example from this section I am offering up to you is my personal favorite. I actually have it written on a card I keep tucked away in my passport case:

“He is truly wise
Who’s travelled far
And knows the ways of the
World.
He who has travelled
Can tell the spirit which
Governs the men he meets.“

This next exemplifies the good natured but battle hardened warriors Norse culture is often represented as.

“A King’s son should be
Thoughtful
Thorough and silent
Brave in battle.
A man should be happy
And in good humor
To his dying day.“

And here is a bit of ancient psychoanalysis which very much holds true today.

“He is unhappy
And ill-tempered
Who meets all with mockery.
What he doesn’t know,
But needs to,
Are his own familiar faults.”

Almost Hallmark in its message, copy this next antique platitude into cards to your friends to let them know you care: trod the proverbial postal “road” to them. Nothing says you love them like a pretty bit of stationary with a heartfelt message. And I’m very serious about that. I absolutely adore getting cards in the post.

“A bad friend
Is far away
Though his cottage is close.
To a true friend
Lies a trodden road
Though his farm lies far away.“

And finally, some rather harsh ancient dieting advice:

“The glutton does not
Guard himself
Eats till he’s ill.
Wiser men
Only mock
A fool’s fat belly.“

Although seemingly a collection of platitudes and maxims, it is actually much more, in that it reveals the deep running moral and spiritual mode of conduct and ethos of the Norse people, a facet of philosophical and anthropological study not often available for ancient cultures. Analysis of the moral philosophy represented in these two sections of the Hàvamàl has revealed that it was not borrowed from afar, but was rather a home grown moral common sense developed on the farms, forests, and battlefields of the North. Despite the indigenous origin of the code, it is not, however, exclusive to the Norse. Several components of the philosophies of the Hàvamàl, such as its emphasis on the need for understanding human nature and living life to your own moral compass rather than an easier path lesser company might accept from you, are quite similar to the ideas put forth by the Greek philosopher Aristotle, and to some extent his predecessors, Socrates and Plato. What was philosophy to the Greeks was applied common sense to the Norse. It is indicative of earlier men’s spot-on understanding of themselves, their fellow men, and how best to live a spiritually fulfilling and happy life.

Sources:
Johnson, B., (1992). Hàvamàl: The Sayings of the Vikings. Oslo: Gudrun. (translations featured above)
Johnson, S., (1938). Old Norse and Ancient Greek Ideals. Ethics 49(1) 18-36. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Jones, G., (1998). The Vikings. London: The Folio Society.
Page, R.I., (2000). Chronicles of the Vikings: Records, Memorials, Myths. London: The British Museum Press. (translations featured above)

Within Wicca, the Celtic Tradition is a facet of this pagan religion that honors the Celtic/Druidic pantheon of deities and the ancient Celts’ way of interacting with their world on a physical, magickal, and spiritual level. Wiccans of the Celtic Trad have a strong affinity towards Nature, the Elements, Healing, and the Fae. Today we will be taking a brief glimpse at the history of the Celts and their religion, a look at four prominent deities, and some specifics regarding Celtic magick as it relates to the Celtic calendar, the Ogham alphabet, sacred tree lore, and animal magick.

To understand the Celtic Tradition we must first understand and acknowledge its roots. While today most people think of Ireland when they think of Celts, the Celts actually were originally spread out over a large part of Europe in addition to the British Isles. They occupied vast areas of western and central Europe during the last half of the first millennium BC. Although the early Celts were comprised of a number of different races and tribes, they were all linked by common origins and language, common religious traditions, and a close similarity of laws.

Our knowledge of the religion and mythologies of the Celtic people comes from three
different areas in Europe. From Gaul, which is modern day France, Britain (most specifically Wales), and Ireland. The Celts themselves did not commit their traditions to writings, but handed them down orally. Thus our knowledge of the Celts is dependent largely on fragmentary texts transcribed during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries by Christian monks, which provide us with ancient legends and heroic tales, but not many hard facts. Archaeological evidence has provided us with clues as well, however, so we are able to piece together a fairly accurate picture of the Celtic world. It appears that the Celts of Ireland maintained their cultural integrity until close to 500 AD, and it is there that the pagan Celtic mythology has been best preserved. For this reason, what follows primarily focuses on Irish Celtic lore, with a smattering, here and there, of Welsh.

Trying to piece together the origins and details of the Celtic religion that the Wiccan Celtic Tradition is based on is no easy feat. As mentioned earlier, the Druids did not keep written records, and what information we have is pieced together and transcribed by Christian monks and colored, undoubtedly, but their viewpoints. However, we do have details of some rituals and festivals, as well as lore regarding the important Irish pantheon of the Tuatha de Danaan.

The Tuatha de Danaan was an Irish pantheon of various gods and goddesses, both specialized to specific crafts, and generalized (like the paternal Dagda). Some of these gods correspond to the continental Celtic ones, some don’t, and some Celtic gods have no counterpart in Ireland. It has been suggested that the Tuatha de Danaan may actually be an artificial composite of deities stitched together by later storytellers. However, the story of the Tuatha de Danaan is an interesting tale, regardless of its origins, and many Tuatha de Danaan deities are called upon today by Celtic Wiccans.

In brief, the Tuatha de Danaan, who originated from Greece, were a highly skilled band of faery-folk, with great knowledge and skill in the arts of magick, music, poetry, and weaponry. They came to Ireland from four cities situated on the corners of the wind, Findias (South), Gorias (East), Murias (West) and Falias (North). The Tuatha de Danaan quickly conquered the Fir Bolg, who had colonized Ireland under a treaty with the Fomorians. Soon after, the Tuatha King, Lugh, defeated Balor -the Fomorian’s greatest warrior, and the Fomorians were driven from the island.

Each city held a master of wisdom who gave a treasure (or Hallow) to ensure the Tuatha De Danaan flourished. Uscias gifted the sword, Esras gifted a spear, Semias gifted the cauldron and Morfessa gifted a stone, each representing the cities respectively. The Danaan ruled Ireland for a hundred years, when, on the First of May, the Milesians attacked the island. Despite the great magick and prowess of the Tuatha, the Milesians triumphed. One of the Danaan’s great gods, The Dagda, led them underground and found retreats for them in hollow hills encompassed by hidden walls, to live undisturbed by mortals.

Present-day Celtic pagans have brought this ancient Irish pantheon back to prominence and now once again, requests for aid and guidance are being asked of such deities as Brigid, Dana, Oghma, and Lugh, just to name a few. The enduring success of this group of deities is due, in part, to the richness of this pantheon andthese goddesses and gods give the Celtic Wiccan a wonderful foundation to base their faith upon.

The Celts honored a wealth of deities. For the most part, Ireland, Wales and Gaul worshiped different localized deities, but some gods were known across all the pantheons, even if their names differed slightly from country to country. Here we will be focusing on two prominent female deities (Brigid and Rhiannon) and two prominent male deities (The Dagda and Cernunnos).

Brigid is probably the most famous of the Irish deities, as her worship endured into Christian times. Even to this day she is worshiped as her eternal flame has been re-lit at her convent in Kildare. In earliest times, she was a member of the Tuatha de Danann (the daughter of the Dagda and Boann and the wife of Bress). Later, she was made a saint in the Catholic pantheon, and earned the nickname “Mary of the Gael”. Even within the Christian pantheon, however, Brigid kept most of her pagan attributes, chiefly her association with fire.

Today we know Brigid best as the goddess we honor during the Celtic festival of Imbolc, celebrating the birth of spring. In addition to the importance Brigid holds for us during Imbolc, she is also believed to aid healing and fertility, as well as help assist women in labor. She is the Goddess of poetry, feminine crafts, the hearth, martial arts, healing and inspiration.

In today’s magick and ritual, Brigid can be called upon to aid you in virtually any endeavor you wish to undertake. She may be called upon for assistance in fire magick, crafting, inspiration, animal magick, fertility, healing and childbirth. Brigid is truly a powerful and prominent goddess.

Rhiannon is a Welsh goddess. Her original name is thought to be Rigatona (Gaulish), meaning “great queen”, which indicates that she once held a much higher status in the Celtic pantheon than she enjoys today. Rhiannon is a potent symbol of fertility, yet she is also an Otherworld and death Goddess, a bringer of dreams, and a moon deity who is symbolized by a white horse. Her father was Heveydd the Old, and she was married to both Pwyll and Manann. The story of her marriage to Pwyll, and the subsequent accusation of the murder of her child, is well documented and most people are familiar with Rhiannon from this tale.

In her guise as a death Goddess, Rhiannon could sing sweetly enough to lure all those in hearing to their deaths, and therefore she may be related to Germanic stories of lake and river faeries who sing seductively to lure sailors and fishermen to their doom. Her white horse images also link her to Epona, and many scholars feel they are one and the same, or at least are derived from the same archetypal roots.

In today’s magick and ritual, Rhiannon can be called upon to aid you in overcoming enemies, exercising patience, working magick, moon rituals, and enhancing dream work. My personal affinity to this goddess is strong, which turns out not to be too surprising, as though my journey over the years I found that my love of horses, moonstones, and dream work all correspond to her. I have talked to other witches who also are drawn to her, and am reassured that Rhiannon is enjoying a resurgence in importance to the Celtic pagan.

Dagda, the Good God, is the Irish Lord of the Land and the husband of Boann, the goddess of the river Boyne. Druids see him as a God of wisdom with extreme power, abundance and the ability to restore life, a belief sacred to the Celts. Portrayed as ancient man with hair of gray, he is grounded and simple in every way. He possesses a cauldron known as “the Undry”, which came from Murias, one of the Tuatha de Danann’s four mythical cities. This cauldron gave food to all, according to the individual’s merits. No one ever left it unsatisfied.

As Lord of the Land, he was a valiant defender of it, and performed great deeds in the battle between his family, the Tuatha de Danann, and the Fomors. In peace-time the Dagda played his living harp, which has two names – “Oak of the Two Cries”, and “Hand of Fourfold Music”. As he played upon it, the music causes the seasons to change – spring to summer, summer to autumn, autumn to winter, and winter again to spring. The Dagda’s final resting place is said to be a small barrow near the river Boyne, known as the Tomb of the Dagda, which has never been excavated.

In today’s magick and ritual, you can call on Dagda’s energies for almost any purpose you might need. He may be called upon for wisdom, animal magick, warrior skills, fertility, protection, assist in faery contact, elemental magick, or to increase mental prowess. Like Brigid, he is an extremely powerful and prominent deity.

Cernunnos was known to all Celtic areas in one form or another. He was called The Horned God; God of Nature; and the Great Father. The Druids knew him as Hu Gadarn, the Horned God of Fertility. He is usually portrayed sitting in a lotus position with horns or antlers on his head, long curling hair, a beard, naked except for a neck torque, and sometimes holding a spear and shield. His symbols were the stag, ram, bull, and horned serpent. He represented virility, fertility, animals, physical love, Nature, woodlands, reincarnation, crossroads, wealth, commerce, and warriors. Born on Alban Arthuan (Yule) he is often seen holding or wearing a golden torc signifying his connection as a solar deity and the wealth he may share with others.

In today’s magick and ritual, you can call upon Cernunnos for aid in fertility, magick and animals. Cernunnos is perhaps the most prominent and well-known of all Celtic deities, and many pagans of all paths honor him as the god that shares life’s journey with the Triple Goddess.

Wiccans following the Celtic Tradition usually employ various aspects of Celtic lore when creating and performing their spells and rituals that goes beyond simply calling on the various Celtic deities. Some aspects include following the Celtic Calendar, using the Celtic Ogham alphabet in divination or writing spells, utilizing specific sacred trees for spells and healing, and calling on totemic animals for aid and guidance.

The Celts based their calendar on the cycles of the moon instead of the sun. The Celtic year consisted of 13 months, 12 of which were roughly the same as our modern months, and one extra three day ‘make up’ month leading into the new year. Each month was governed by a moon, and had a sacred Ogham tree associated with it.

The Celtic Calendar included two primary fire festivals; Samhain (the beginning of winter,) and Beltane (the beginning of summer,) marking the movement from the dark into the light time of the year. Two other seasonal fire festivals were also celebrated: Imbolc (February 1), and Lughnasadh (August 1). Dates and seasonal associations noted here are that of the Northern hemisphere. For those who reside in the Southern hemisphere, the exact opposite dates and seasonal associations apply.

The onset of each season was observed at the Albans (Solstices and Equinoxes,) although the central point of each season was celebrated and recognized by a Fire Festival. These four Albans were Alban Arthuan (winter solstice or Yule), Alban Eiler (vernal equinox or Ostara), Alban Heruin (summer solstice or Litha), and Alban Elved (autumnal equinox or Mabon).

This Wheel of the Year is widely used among Traditions and pagans worldwide; not just Celtic Wiccans. This celebration of the turning of the seasons is an important part of how we view the world and is a cornerstone for our faith.

Ogham is a form of writing originally used by the Celtic people of the British Isles prior to the introduction of the Roman alphabet and Christianity. Each letter of the Ogham alphabet has the name of a tree or other plant, and each of these trees had a meaning in the Celtic religion.

The alphabet consists of twenty letters. Each letter consists of one to five strokes extending from or crossing a horizontal line. Ancient Ogham inscriptions are generally found cut into the edge of hewn stone, with the edge representing the horizontal line. When the edge is actually horizontal, the letters read from left to right. Vertical edges
were usually written from top to bottom, and in the case of a three-edge structure, such as a dolmen arch, the writing began at the lower left, ran up the left side, across the top, and down the right side.

Today, modern Celtic witches use Ogham for divination and spell work. For divination, the letters can either be carved on sticks and cast, or painted on cards and read like tarot. In other uses, the letters can be carved into candles to assist in spells or used to write out requests that are presented to the gods during rituals.

The culture of the ancient Celts was influenced by a great unity with nature, which we continue today. Reverence is given to all aspects of nature, but perhaps nothing was as sacred to the ancient Celts as the tree. The Druids actually created a calendar from the trees to personify the spirit of the Esbat, and today many people wonder why the tree played such a significant role in the Celtic life. Perhaps one reason is so many cultures modeled the universe and spiritual progression after a “Tree of Life” or a “World Tree”. Trees were a physical representation of unity with all things because of their visible upper parts which reached into the heavens, and the unseen bottom parts, or roots, which reached far into the ground. These bottom parts were virtually identical to the upper parts and perhaps reflected to many the ancient adage “As above, So below”. Trees physically unite the heaven and earth making the Earth Goddess and the Sky God one, united two halves of the whole and making them a powerful source of creative magick

Today the counting of the Celtic tree calendar begins with the full moon nearest Yule.
Once this is pinpointed, count off the thirteen moons of the lunar year and mark them
with their Tree. The Trees’ order is as follows: Birch, Rowan, Ash, Alder, Willow, Hawthorn, Oak, Holly, Hazel, Vine, Ivy, Reed and Elder. Each Tree has its own power, polarity, and magickal significance which we can call upon to strengthen our spells. The Trees also can be used for herbal magick spells, as various parts of these Trees have healing properties. Trees can be an invaluable aid in many of our magickal endeavors, and should be honored with the same respect given them by our Celtic ancestors.

Everywhere one looks in the ancient Celtic myths there are animals. They are the allies of heroes, the helpers of those who travel in search of wisdom, and the companions of shamans and witches. Animal symbolism found in Celtic myths include boars, birds, serpents, fish, horse and cattle, just to name a few. Boars symbolize courage and strong warriors. Fish, especially salmon, are associated with knowledge and secrets. Snakes and dragons are portents of trouble, strife and infertility. Birds also may presage bad luck or bloodshed. Horse and cattle represent fertility, as do many occurrences of animals in Celtic legend.

These legends have helped shape how we, today, relate to these animals in our own mediations and magick. Many following the Celtic path have strong relationships with their animal familiars, both physical and astral, and feel comfortable calling upon the strengths of other animals that are not their familiars. Animals hold a wealth of
knowledge and wisdom (as the ancient Celts well knew) and following the Celtic path allows us to reap the benefits of these close ties with our animal brethren.

As you can see, there is an incredible amount of knowledge a Wiccan of the Celtic Tradition should learn in order to honor their chosen Trad properly. Entire books have been written on Celtic lore and magick alone, and this essay has only been able to touch the tip of the iceberg. However, it is important to remember that following a Celtic Path requires not only knowledge of deities, plants, trees, animals, seasons, rituals, healing, history, etc., but also the appropriate attitude of reverence and celebration of spirit that ties us with Nature and our past. Celtic Wiccans should have both a strong sense of personal responsibility and a code of personal and social ethics that binds us all “in perfect love and perfect trust”.

References:

Conway, D.J. Celtic Magic. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn Publications, 1990
Conway, D.J. By Oak, Ash, & Thorn – Modern Celtic Shamanism. St. Paul, MN:
Llewellyn Publications, 1995
Cotterell, Arthur and Storm, Rachel. The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Mythology. New
York; Hermes House, 1999
Hutton, Ronald. The Pagan Religions of the Ancient British Isles – Their Nature and
Legacy. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers, 1991
McCoy, Edain. Celtic Myth & Magic. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn Publications, 1995
Matthews, John. Celtic Totem Animals. London, England: Red Wheel, 2002.

With today being a full moon it seems fitting to work this week with a lady known for her connection to the moon. So this week we honor the Welsh Goddess Arianrhod.

Arianrhod is the Mother aspect of a Goddess triad along with Blodeuwedd and Cerridwen. She is also said to be one of the five Goddesses that originate from the isle of Avalon; the other four being Blodeuwedd, Cerridwen, Branwen and Rhiannon. Unfortunately Arianrhod is one of the many Goddesses who’s myths and details of how she was worshiped have been lost in the mists of time and much of what we know about her now either originates from the Welsh myth cycle of The Mabinogion or it is presumed, or even made up, as being something that “may have been”. At the same time people have been creating and developing new ways of honor her and many other deities who originate from cultures that either had little formal record keeping or who’s information was lost over time.

Arianrhod’s name is pronounced “ari-an-rod” and is said to translate to “silver disc” or “silver wheel” and she is often referred to as The Silver Wheel (the etymology though could be more of folk meaning since its been suggested that “arian” may mean “round”). She is a Goddess who was a shapeshifter and was known to take the form of an oil. She rules over the moon, stars and the sea, but was also seen as a Goddess of beauty and fertility. The Silver Wheel that she is said to be tied to is the wheel of life, time and karma. With this she helps to ferry a boat known as the Oar Wheel which carried the souls of dead warriors to Emania (said to translate to Moon-land) where they would then reside. It is also believed in some myths that Arianrhod fills the roll of timekeeper and turns the Wheel of the Year, seen also as The Silver Wheel.

Visually Arianrhod is often depicted as powerful and strong yet delicate and beautiful. She is often seen with pale skin and light blonde hair to resonate her connection to the moon and the color silver. Arianrhod is the mother of the Shining God/Shining Son, Lleu, also know in myths as Lleu Llaw Gyffes (Lleu meaning “shining one” and Llaw Gyffes meaning “skillful hand”).

The myth of Arianrhod in The Mabinogion, the only real recorded myth of her, is somewhat confusing. You can read the original story here, but in brief the story is about Arianrhod, her brothers Gilfaethwy and Gwydion, and their uncle Math ap Mathonwy who is the king of Gwynedd. It is said that the king must keep his feet resting in the lap of a virgin when he is not on the battlefield at war, so Math has a foot holder named Goewin who resides with him. Gilfaethwy has a secret desire for Goewin but because of her need to remain pure in order to serve Math there is nothing he can do about this desire. Eventually his longing for her becomes too much and along with the help of his brother Gwydion they devise a plan to steal pigs from Pryderi, the king of Dyfed, a neighboring kingdom, and making it look as though Math was responsible. While the two kings are fighting over the stolen pigs, Gwynedd uses this as his chance to be with Goewin. (Depending on the translation or presentation of the story this part changes; the original tale depicts it as rape while in other more modern retellings it’s softened a bit and sometimes worded as he “had his way with her”, or even outright saying it was a consensual affair). When Math returns he finds out about Goewin no longer being a virgin and therefore no longer being able to fill her role in his kingdom. He is enraged with his nephews and curses them to reside in the bodies of animals; they are turned into male and female animal pairs including a stag and a hind deer, a boar and a sow and a male and female wolf, each time forced to mate with one another and bring the offspring to Math.

In the process of this Math marries Goewin to remove the shame of what has happened, but he still needs a new foot holder. Feeling obligated, Gwydion offers up his sister Arianrhod to replace Goewin. Math accepts her but when she arrives at his kingdom he suspects that she has had many relations with men of all sorts, including mermen, and possibly her own brothers. Math decides to test her chastity and has her jump over his wand telling her that if she is a virgin this will tell him. She does but as she does so she gives birth to a young boy named Dylan and a blob-like entity. Dylan is said to be the result of a union with a creature of the sea and he is immediately returned to the ocean. Gwydion takes the entity before anyone else can and hides it in a chest and soon after it turns into boy who grew at twice the rate of a normal boy.

Arianrhod felt same over the events in the king’s court as well as the birth of an unknownable entity. She returns to her home where Gwydion arrives several years later with the now growing boy. She curses the child, saying he will never have a name unless she decides to give him one. Gwydion disguises the boy as a shoemaker and takes him to Arianrhod to have her fitted for shoes. While there the boy kills a wren with the throw of a single stone and she remarks that the fair haired shining one has a skillful hand (giving him the name Lleu Llaw Gyffes). Discovering she has named him she curses him to never be able to carry or use a weapon unless she gives it to him. A few years later Gwydion again tricks her, this time disguising Lleu as a bard who comes to entertain her. While everyone sleeps Gwydion conjures a fleet of warships to Arianrhod’s home and she gives weapons to all the men to help her fight, thus arming Lleu. Again she curses him after discoving what she has done, this time saying Lleu will never have a woman of any race or form on the earth. This curse is later broken when Gwydion and Math create Blodeuwedd, the Flower Faced Goddess, out of oak, broom and meadowsweet and give her to Lleu whom she marries. Thus Arianrhod attempts to deny Lleu three aspects of masculinity, a name, the right to fight armed, and a wife, yet he his trickster uncle is able to save him each time.

Hymn to Arianrhod
By Janet and Stewart Farrar
From The Witches’ Goddess

Arianrhod of the Silver Wheel
By all the names men give thee -
We, thy hidden children, humbly kneel
Thy truth to hear, thy countenance to see.
Here in the circle cast upon the Earth
Yet open to the stars – unseen, yet real -
Within our hearts give understanding birth,
Our wounds of loss and loneliness to heal.
Isis unveiled and Isis veiled, thou art;
The Earth below our feet, the Moon on high.
In thee these two shall never be apart -
The magick of the Earth and Sky.

Here are some correspondences for working with Arianrhod:

Call on her for help with:
magickal brewing, working with the cosmos, courage, cunning, death/transition, enchanting, fertility, initiation, life cycles, lunar magick, magickal arts, honoring the moon, magick with or honoring the ocean and sea, passion and lust, poetry, prophecy, reincarnation, renewing, retribution, sky magick, spellcasting, time, weaving and spinning (physical, magickal or metaphorical), wisdom, women’s issues (especially as they relate to fertility).

Colors:
blue, purple, gray, silver, white

Elements:
air, water

Sabbats:
Yule

Animals:
Owl

Herbs and Essences:
birch

Representations:
Spinning tools, silver wheel, zodiac, nets, wheels, silver, the full moon, the Corona Borealis

Suitable offerings:
Silver coins, wheat, green or white candles

(Information on correspondences for Arianrhod are somewhat scarce.)

The pictured statue of Arianrhod can be found in the Sacred Mists Shoppe in both a black resin and a copper cast.  The Shoppe also has a beautiful locket filled with solid perfume by Jessica Galbreth featuring her depiction of Arianrhod on the front.

This week we’re going to look at the patron Goddess of the Sacred Mists Tradition, Cerridwen.

Cerridwen is the Keeper of the Cauldron, the mother of transformation and change.  She brings inspiration, wisdom and the gifts of prophecy to those that work with her.  She is seen in Welsh legend as being a crone Goddess, creating a triad with Blodeuwedd and Arianrhod.  Cerridwen’s energy resonates with the darker elements of the Goddess and has connections to the Underworld.  The meaning of her name is somewhat debatable.  There is the more modern, new age interpretation that claims to to mean “white sow” yet in the early texts where her name is first found, spelled “Cyrridven”, it is interpreted to mean “crooked woman” (“cyrrid” meaning crooked and “ben” meaning woman).  With the change of spelling to Cerridwen the etymology changed and her name could then be seen to mean something to the effect of “blessed or sacred woman”.  There are still other spells of her name that you’ll see from different time periods as well including Ceridwen, Caridwen and Kyrridwen.

In the Welsh myths and legends of The Mobinogion, we see the legendary story of Cerridwen where she puts a young boy named Gwion in charge of stirring and watching over a cauldron, known as Amen (which later became Awen, a Welsh word meaning “poetic inspiration” and what is believed to be contained within her cauldron), full of a magickal brew she was making for her son Morfran that would make him very wise and knowledgeable in order to make up for his physical failings as he was very ugly.  Cerridwen figured that he’d miss opportunities because of his looks but should he have endless knowledge he would have more changes.  The brew which consisted of six herbs would need to brew within the her cauldron for a year and a day and would need to be watched constantly.  She gives strong instructions to Gwion not to spill anything out the cauldron since only three drops of the brew will be useful to her son since the rest will become poison.  On the last day Gwion accidently splashes several drops of the hot liquid on his hand as he is stirring and in a movement of reflex he puts his hand to his mouth and sucks on the burn only to suddenly become enlightened with this great power and wisdom intended for Morfran since he has taken within these three drops of magickal brew.  The rest becomes poison and knowing that the contents of the cauldron will be of no use to Cerridwen, Gwion flees in fear.  From here we see a wonderful and magickal dance of shapshifting and transformation as Cerridwen changes into the form of many different creatures to chase down Gwion who now also has the power of transformation and begins to shift as well during this dance.  Eventually at the end Cerridwen catches up to Gwion and swallows him, taking him within to transform him further.  Nine months later Cerridwen gives birth to a boy named Taliesin, one of the greatest poets to ever live.

The story of Cerridwen and her symbols provide us with a wonderful story for transformation and understanding the idea of cycles in our lives and the lives of all things around us, including nature.  She beings by trying to take the shadow element of her son Morfran and using her cauldron to create a potion of wisdom to transform him.  Here we the concepts of “brewing” knowledge for a year and a day, letting this simmer and marinate and come together during a process of tending to the fires that keep the process going.  We then see that, through taking in this knowledge deeply and letting it do it’s work, flowing with it and letting it transform and change us, we have the ability to experience many different things.  We may also find that we need to chase after what we truly desire as a result of desiring knowledge (like chasing down your dreams).  Once we make the transformation we may need to let it ruminate some more and nurture and care for our projects or knowledge and then, when the time is right, the fruits of our labor are born.

Cerridwen, while having her dark side, is just as much a mother as she is a crone.  Her crone aspect encompasses her wisdom but as a mother she nurtures that wisdom and the growth that it brings. She is an approachable Goddess though, if you come to her asking to be shown knowledge, truth and wisdom in any aspect, whether mundane, magickal or spiritual, she will put you through tests and trials and will make you earn that which you seek.  She isn’t a Goddess that hands things out to the ungrateful and she isn’t one that spoonfeeds love and wisdom, but for those that are willing to truly seek out the Holy Grail, as her cauldron is sometimes seen to represent, then she will help you uncover it.  Working with Cerridwen will transform you and you will find that your views, your path and your spirituality will be vastly different once you have passed her tests.

Some areas of working that Cerridwen can be helpful with include:
Aging, aminal magick, the arts, astral travel, astrology, magickal brewing, clarity, creation and creativity, darkness, death, destruction, discipline, disease, divination, dreams, energy of the lunar eclipse, enchantment, enlightenment, exorcism, fate, fear, fertility, grief, guidance, healing and health, herbs, initiation, inspiration, intuition, judgment, justice, karma, law, learning, longevity, dark and light magick, lunar magick, meditation, mysteries, night, oaths, obstacles, opportunities, poetry, power, protection, psychic abilities, rebirth, regeneration, reincarnation, renewing, retribution, revenge, shapeshifting, sorcery, spellcasting, tarot, transformation, truth, Underworld, wisdom, witchcraft, woodlands, writing.

Colors associated with Cerridwen include:
purple, black, gray, white and silver.

Seasonally Cerridwen can be associated with the Sabbats of:
Yule and Samhain

Animals associated with Cerridwen include:
Hen and white sow

Herbs and essences associated with Cerridwen include:
Vervain, vanilla, almond and bergamont

Stones and crystals associated with Cerridwen include:
Coral, agate and carnelian

The above pictured statue of Cerridwen can be found among the Celtic Gods and Goddesses statues in the Sacred Mists by clicking here.