Archive for the ‘Celtic’ Category

Eating Your Totem

Okay. So my dear Bren may or may not have eaten his “Totem” for dinner last week. And I joked about it. A few people had panic attacks about this. So in my usual sweet but sarcastic way let me address this.

First of all, I am the kind of woman who has been known to start pillow fights in the middle of the afternoon in downtown Ottawa. I don’t take life all that seriously. I take my Witchcraft seriously, but not entirely seriously. If there was a rule that in order to be a Pagan and/or Witch you had to be serious all the time, about everything, and never crack a joke, I’d join the Discordians, or possibly the Pastafarians. I do love spaghetti.

So with that out of the way …

I just adore the endless debate over the proper definitions and uses of words. Especially words stolen from cultures we invaded then conquered and shoved onto reserves to eek out a life of poverty and hopelessness.

The whole Totem vs Familiar vs Power Animal vs Let’s Just Call Them Sprits debate is a personal favourite of mine.

Folks often use Totem for just about anything. From my understanding in most of the cultures that have Totem concepts, you get one of these at birth. Often it’s a tribal thing. Kind of like how as a Fergusson our ancient clan badge is the Poplar tree. There are all kinds of rules regarding Totems, depending on who you talk to. These things vary from culture to culture, tribe to tribe, website to website … got it?

Familiar also gets used for just about everything.

In my mind it is an actual animal (maybe a plant too) you work magick and ritual with. In A very real sense, not a “My cat jumped on my altar once” way. My now elderly dog Crash and I have a relationship that can only be described as uncanny. Those are other folk’s words, not mine. The fact that she allows Bren to take her half a block away from me to potty in the morning is amazing. This dog and I part a part of each other. In ritual we dance an intricate dance built upon a decade plus of working together. She guards me as I walk the Hedge and sometimes even joins me. I can go on and on but I won’t.

Then there’s Power Animals, Spirit Guides, Spirits, Ancestor Teachers … the list goes on and on and often different words are used for the same thing.

It’s enough to make your head spin.

Now while I do understand it is important to be using words in a way that makes sense to us all, so that we can communicate better, I also feel that at times we worry far too much about these things.

Once upon a time, while wandering on the otherside of the Hedge I found myself hanging out with the God Who Has Antlers on His Head. Since nothing seemed to be happening, I decided to ask a question.

I asked “Sooooo … are you one individual god, not a god at all, are all gods one god, or are you some kind of archetype … or what?”

His response:

“It doesn’t matter”

So there you go.

It doesn’t fucking matter.

Not that we have that out of the way …

Bren is not a shamanic practitioner; he’s a Druid and Philosopher. He doesn’t know what his Totem is and I don’t know what his Totem is. He has a special fondness for rabbits, that’s all.

And yes, he eats rabbit. Last week was not the first time either.

In some Traditions, it’s totally against the rules to eat your Totem. Bren knows this. He has worked with First Nations Elders off and on for many years. Not as a spiritual student, but as a guy working for the government and such learning their customs and values in order to beat the white guys in charge over the head with the proper ethics of dealing with the First Nations people. But he knows a heck of a lot about First Nations culture, customs and spirituality.

When I joked to him about eating his “Totem” the first thing he mentioned (not totally seriously) was that it’s against the rules in some Traditions to do so.

At which point I said “Yeah, but you’re white”

Bren and I are not First Nations. We are Celts and Anglo-Saxons by blood and culture at best (and Canadian of course)

The debate over whether white folks have Totems aside, there is a lot of good evidence that animals had some major sacred importance to white people once upon a time. The horse for example was associated with some heavy hitting goddesses, with the land itself, and with sovereignty.

But white folks being white folks, we’ve always done things a little differently than other cultures. We don’t treat scared horses like sacred cows in India, or Totems you can’t eat.

Here’s an interesting ancient Celtic practice:

In order to be king, you must (in front of the whole tribe) have sex with a horse, then kill it, then butcher it, then eat some of it, and then cover yourself with its blood and guts and maybe even parade around in its still oozing hide.

Yep yep

So, even if Bren’s Totem is a rabbit, I don’t feel all that bad about serving it to him for dinner.

Thanks for reading yet another nonsensical ramble.

Oak and Holly

In the deepest and darkest slumber

When the world is plunged in cold and snow

The Earth rests gripped in the heart of Winter

Cloaked in ice and freezing winds that harshly blow

The King who wears the Holly crown

Sits high upon His icy throne

*

We with one ear pressed to the frozen ground

Do hear the sounds of returning warmth

With creaks and groans the Goddess gives birth

To a Son of Oak and light and mirth

Just as the Sun begins its slow return

*

As the Oak babe is suckled and fed

A meal of warming earth and melting snow

The Holly King begins to feel his age

As crocus blooms and tulips push through

Holly knows his time is near an end

Youth no more, now a wise sage

*

On the day that we call Equinox

Young Oak and old Holly now

Stand as equals in the Earth’s heart

Though we know that some day soon

Sadly one will have to depart

*

And so the chase has begun

Round from Winter to Summer’s return

Oak gives chase as Holly leads the race

When wise old Holly can no longer run

He draws a sword against His own Son

A clash of sword and smash of staves

Holly will not easily give way

*

The Lord of Misrule rests in death

Wearing his Ivy and Holly crown

He awaits rebirth with Summer’s peak

The Lord of Sun-lit woodlands

Wears his Ash and Oaken crown

He rules now until the Autumn breeze

The Lady of the great green Earth

Wears her hawthorn and blossom crown

She now prepares for her wedding feast

*

We honour the Flower Maiden, who blesses the blooms

Who is made of meadowsweet, oak-blossom and broom

We are the ones who dance with the Blooming Bride

Ancient and modern rites to celebrate May-tide

*

In the brightest and warmest of celebrations

When the land burst with life and growth

The Sun hangs hot in a blue sky

Blessing our crops and herds and our lives

The King in his Oaken crown

Walks the land with stag by His side

*

We who play and dig in the dirt

Feel the winds shift and the world turn

With a rustle of the wheat field and the ripening of fruit

The Goddess birth a Son of Ivy and Holly too

Now the Sun peaks and begins to wane

*

We honour the Summer Queen, Maiden no longer

Who brings berries and fruit and makes the days stronger

We gathered to witness Her pledge her troth

Where bud and blossom Promise to us Summer’s growth

Summer Queen we thank you for the fertile and abundant land

*

Now the Holly child begin to grow

Fed on the first fruits of the Summer

His waxing strength turns the land towards Autumn

Oak King grows from wild young Hunter

To resting wise Lord ready for slumber

He raises His hand and the land He does bless

The last of His love He gives to the Earth Mother

*

The second Equinox now begins

With Autumn rains and cooling winds

Elderly Oak and youthful Holly

Are once again balanced in harmony

We gather the Harvest and wait for the Hunt

*

It seems that before we know it

We huddle inside and we run and we hide

From the first frosts and from the Wild Hunt

The last of the Harvest is tucked in storage

As Holly tracks Oak with spear in hand

Father and Son, Brother to Brother

They begin that ancient struggle

*

The King of Sun-lit woodlands deep

Gives up His flowered and Oaken crown

He awaits rebirth with Winter’s peak

The Lady of the abundant Earth

Adorned in Her darkest gown

Weds her Holly King and then She

Prepares for Winter’s sleep

The Lord of Misrule takes the throne

Wearing His Ivy and Holly crown

He will rule ’till Spring birds sing

*

We honour the icy Crone, who is also our Mother

Winter winds do shake Her bower

With Her Earthly gifts tucked safely in storage

Meat and grains and fruit dried and put away

We deck the halls and build up the fire

*

And so we will lovingly tend that fire

Pour offerings and make merry

All in Their honour

We sing songs in Their praise

We drum and we dance

With the good Gods

Around the great Wheel

That never stops turning

Diaspora

Although my feet
Have never walked
Upon ancestral lands

And I’ve never heard
The winds sing a song
Across the Motherland

Though I have never
Laid my own hands
Upon a standing stone

I will sing the old song
I will honour the old gods
I will learn the old ways
And make them new again

For a man or woman
Who is without roots
Finds it all too easy
To cut down another’s tree

And so I will connect
With this New World
I will love, I will learn
This, my dear land

New ways for me to make
Like forefathers of old
New paths for me to blaze
New stories to be told

I will sing the old songs
I will honour the old gods
I will learn the old ways
And make them new again

Some of my Favorite Celtic Triads ~ Part 1


Concerning three things that hide: an open bag hides nothing, an open door hides little, an open person hides something.

Three things by nature cause their possessor to err: youth, prosperity, and ignorance.

There are three things which move together as quickly the one as the other: lightning , thought , and the help of the Mighty Ones.

Three things not loved without each one it’s companion: day without night, idleness without hunger, and wisdom without reverence.

There are three whose full reward can never be given to them: parents, a good teacher, and the Mighty Ones.

Three slender things that best support the world: the slender stream of milk from the cows dug into the pail; the slender blade of green corn upon the ground; the slender thread over the hand of a skilled woman.

Three things by which excellence is established: Taking all things in moderation with nothing in excess; abidance to oaths; and acceptance of responsibility.

Three things which strengthen a person to stand against the whole world: Seeing the quality and beauty of truth; seeing beneath the cloak of falsehood; and seeing to what ends truth and falsehood come.

Three things it is everyone’s duty to do: listen humbly, answer discreetly, and judge kindly.

Three manifestations of excellence : the honoring of parents, the respecting of the aged, and instructing the young; and to this a fourth, defending of infancy and innocence.

Three reasons for supplicating to the Mighty Ones: because it is a pleasure to you, that you may be a friend of those who are wise, and because your soul is immortal.

Three candles that illume every darkness: truth, nature, and knowledge.

Three companions on the high road to Union with the Void: a patient poor person, a reflective wise person, and a tolerant reformer.

Three who are loved by the Mighty Ones: the strong just person, the brave merciful person, the person generous without regret.

There are three things which the happy will gain: prosperity, honor, and the ease of conscience.
Three things which the humble will gain: plenty, happiness , and the love of their neighbors.
Three things which the sincere will gain: favor, respect, and prosperity.
Three things which the patient will gain: love, tranquility, and succor .
Three things which the merciful will gain: favor, love, and the protection of the Mighty Ones.
Three things which the upright will gain: worldly sufficiency, peace of conscience, and unending happiness.
Three things which the industrious will gain: precedence , wealth , and praise from the Wise.
Three things which the law-abiding will gain: health, success, and honor.
Three things which the careful will gain: respect, plenty, and content.
Three things which the generous of heart will gain: joy from their profit, felicity in giving, and a better life to come.
Three things which the early riser will gain: health, wealth, and happiness.

There are three things which mislead the world: the promises of masters, the garments of priests, and the seemliness of a daughter.

Three things which do not profit the world by anything they do, whatever their fame for wisdom, art, and piety: a grasping miser, an arrogant poet, and a kept priest.

Three ways to know a person: by their discourse, their conduct, and their companions.

Three measuring-rods of every person: their dreams, their fears, and their unconcern.

Three hatreds which last for ever: between a mate and their step-children, between dogs and swine, and between Cymry and Saxon.

Three diversions which will surely bring trouble: hunting, war, and dallying with one who is younger.

Three occasions for one to speak falsehood without excuse: to save the life of one who is innocent, to keep the peace among neighbors, and to preserve the Wise and their crafts.

Celtic Virtues

Celtic Virtues

 

Culled from suck sources as historical documents, folklore and mythology, as well as the Triads, these following virtues have been compiled by modern followers of a Celtic Path. The list of Celtic Virtues does vary slightly from group to group.

This list tries to be complete, listing the different Virtues most commonly on the list of as many traditions possible. Roughly in order of the most commonly used first and least commonly used last.

  • Courage/Valour/Bravery
  • Honesty/Truth
  • Hospitality
  • Honour
  • Loyalty
  • Justice
  • Responsibility
  • Steadfastness
  • Wisdom
  • Community
  • Strength
  • Generosity
  • Creativity
  • Spirituality
  • Mercy
  • Knowledge
  • Peacefulness
  • Reverence for Nature
  • Eloquence
  • Composure
  • Good Judgment
  • Faith
  • Charity

 

About Juniper

Most folks call me Juniper, my friends call me Juni. I am thirty years old but eternally youthful.

I have been a farmer and a city girl, a homesteader and a wanderer. I have worked in animal rescue and occult shops, art galleries, liquor stores and bead shops.

I have been practising Paganism and Witchcraft for 15 years. I am not an Elder, nor guru. I am just a messy little Hedgewitch who speaks her mind.

I hunt in thrift store jungles and gather in the wildwoods. I practice in groves and ditches, hedgerows and sea shores, basements and vacant lots.

This is my journal. It will have funny bits, rants, ramblings, ideas, poetry and more ... Take it as you please. I suggest reading with your tongue firmly in cheek.

Email: juniper@walkingthehedge.net
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