Category: Festivals

When the Internet Wants You to Be a Different Kind of Irish

I’ve spent the last few days doing something I probably shouldn’t have, given that I’m currently off work with exhaustion. I’ve been online, trying to have conversations with Irish Americans about St. Patrick, about what Ireland actually is today, about the gap between the island their ancestors left and the one I live on now.

It’s been a rough 36 hours. (If you search for me over on Threads, you can probably retrace the whole thing!)

I don’t regret it. But I won’t pretend it didn’t cost me something.

(And yes, being off work is why this is here on Wednesday evening and not Monday morning like usual)

So Let’s Talk About Aul Paddy

I don’t write about him every year, cos I have better things to be doing, but here’s a post from 2022 talking about him as well.

There’s a particular kind of tiredness that comes not from the argument itself, but from the invisible labour underneath it: the constant recalibrating, the search for the right words, the hope that this time the point will land.

So here are a few things worth knowing about St. Patrick, since we’ve just been through another year of the myths doing the rounds.

A snippet from the RTE coverage of the St Patrick's Day in Dublin, which is all about being Irish in our many shapes and colours!
Screenshot from the RTE news coverage of the Dublin Paddy’s Day Parade, you can see it all here: https://www.rte.ie/player/series/rt%C3%A9-news-six-one/SI0000001474?epguid=IH10016318-26-0076

Patrick didn’t kill pagans. He himself considered his mission to Ireland a failure. The snakes weren’t pagans either, that’s a later invention. What Patrick did have, however, were excellent propagandists a few centuries after his death. If you want a genuinely gripping political read, look into the row between Armagh and Kildare in the 7th or 8th century about who would claim the supremacy of Ireland. Spoiler: Armagh and Patrick won that particular battle. Though it’s worth noting that Brigid did considerably more work in the succeeding centuries… but that’s a story for another day, and honestly, a subject close to my heart.

Paddy also wasn’t Irish…

What “Irish” Actually Means

This is where the conversations got harder.

“Irish” means born here, or living here for a considerable period of time, knowing the culture, the politics, the modern history. It means existing inside this place, not just carrying it in your blood memory.

Being Irish American means that somewhere along the line, you had an Irish ancestor. Chances are they were a poor peasant, heading to lands far away for survival. Good on them, the fact that you’re here and exist means it worked. It’s a remarkable story. But it doesn’t make you Irish.

And the Ireland many Irish Americans are so fiercely proud of? It’s a photograph of someone who used to live here. Beautiful. Sincere. Real in its own way. But not quite us anymore.

Here’s some of what modern Ireland actually looks like:

There are Black and brown Irish people. Here, living on this island, playing hurling, playing Gaelic, playing soccer, singing, dancing, serving as politicians, just being people. They’re as Irish as I am. One of them was Taoiseach a few years ago. There is no pure Irish bloodline: we’re a nation of mongrels, and always have been.

If you’re telling me you can trace your lineage to before Christianity arrived on these shores, I’d gently suggest you’ve been extremely misled. For many reasons, we are lucky on this island to trace lineage back to the Great Hunger. Prior to the 17th century, most of us don’t even have church records. But sure – you’re definitely a descendant of Niall of the Nine Hostages.

The Ireland We Actually Live In

Ireland sides with oppressed peoples. Saoirse don Phailistín. We recognise the behaviour: the British practiced it on us first, and we haven’t forgotten what that looks like.

The Irish language isn’t dead. It’s going through a revival, and thankfully so.

Our Head of State is our President, ár Uachtarán, currently Catherine Connolly (our third female president). Our Head of Government is the Taoiseach, Micheál Martín, the man you may have seen at the White House recently. ( You may have heard him being referred to as a Prime Minister, that’s a bad translation of an Irish word)

We voted in Marriage Equality. We repealed the 8th. We are not the Catholic island of your great-grandmother’s stories. We’ve changed, sometimes painfully, often beautifully.

Why This Is Personal

I found myself asking, somewhere in the middle of all this: why does it land so hard? Why does correcting a myth about a 5th century saint feel so exhausting?

I think it’s because identity isn’t abstract for me. It’s something I’ve spent years rooting myself in. Not the postcard version, but the real, complicated, sometimes painful story of this island. I’ve walked a spiritual path with Brigid long enough to understand that she herself holds that complexity. She is saint and goddess, fire and water, patron of poetry and of smithcraft, Of making things and of tending the flame. She doesn’t flatten into a simple story. Neither does Ireland.

That’s part of what learning about her has given me. Not just devotion, but groundedness. A sense of actually knowing where I come from – which makes it harder to stay silent when that story gets simplified, and harder still not to feel the weight of trying to hold the real version up against the wind.

Coming Back to Myself

I’m not writing this to criticise anyone. The love is real – I know that. But I’m also genuinely, medically tired. Which made the last few days both harder and, strangely, more clarifying.

Because when you don’t have the energy to perform patience, you fall back on what’s real. And what’s real for me is this path, this practice, this sense of being held by something older and steadier than any comment section. Brigid has been walked with through harder things than this. She’ll survive it too.

I came back to myself eventually, as I always do, by stepping away from the screen and back into something quieter. A candle. A few slow breaths. The ordinary, unglamorous work of remembering who I actually am, where I actually stand, what I actually know.

That’s the gift of a grounded practice. Not that it makes you invincible. Not that it stops the world from being exhausting. But that it gives you somewhere to return to when it is.

So if you’re Irish, or Irish-adjacent, or just someone who found themselves in an argument this week that cost more than it should have: I see you. Rest. Come back to yourself. The flame will keep.

Brigid, Lúnasa, why I care

Brigid really doesn’t have much to do with Lúnasa, but there are a few reasons I take this time of year as a signal point for myself. And, yes, I will probably be going through this in a lot of detail in this post. I have written on Brigid and Lúnasa before. Hell, I’ve taught on the deities associated with this time of year. But not explicitly on what I do myself with Brigid on this occasion. So here we go.

It’s a handy check in point

No seriously. It really is. It’s half way round the year from Imbolc, when I usually start my Brigid year. It’s coming to that point of the year where I get a good idea on what I will be achieving, harvesting, collecting from my work and start to turn towards the inward work of the year.

Slightly creepy pic, but it does represent the turning inwards I do around Lúnasa, something Brigid is closely aligned to. For me anyway. The picture shows a pencil type drawing, with the figure of a woman or at least a female looking head and shoulders with dark hair in two low pony tails either side of her neck. The creepy part comes in where half of her skull is cut away, with the image of one half of her face repeated several times, each time getting smaller and turning further away from the front of the pic. Think like those Russian dolls you get....
Slightly creepy pic, but it does represent the turning inwards I do around Lúnasa, something Brigid is closely aligned to. For me anyway.

The deities I tend to get attention from around Lúnasa are old, very old in my opinion. They’re not always fully conversant with the modern world – or at least, they have no interest in conversing with me on the modern world. So it helps me at this point to re-examine what I’m doing and how I’m doing it.

It’s a different perspective, if nothing else.

And this is useful, when I’m trying to figure out where I am with my plans for the year. I don’t always follow their advice (read: direction) but it is helpful to consider it and integrate their words into my consideration.

It’s a festival!

I mean, as Brigid practitioners, we rarely need the excuse to light a candle or a fire. But, it’s always nice to have one…

Now, remember, if we look at the old, pre-Tailtiu funeral games name for Lúnasa (which really should be named after at least one of the women Lugh organised funeral games for! And there is a stand-alone course on Tailtiu available as well, if you’re interested)

Getting back to the point before that sentence got away from me: the pre-Lugh name for August in Irish was: Brón Trogain, sorrow of the earth (thanks to Morgan Daimler there! but you can also look it up on dil.ie)

So there is a sorrow on the earth for yielding up it’s fruits, the things it’s been growing for months on end. And I think these things should be acknowledged. It’s a way of acknowledging, in the modern world, the work that goes in to feeding us. I mean, very few of us, comparatively speaking, growing all our own food. We forget this would have been the norm until very recently in human history.

The old gods

Yeah, I know, many times it seems in Irish Paganism that they’re all Old Gods. But if you remember the time line of who arrived when to the island – the TDD are latecomers really. They took over from the Fir Bolg, they defeated the Formorians, there were loads of incomers before they came.

So it only makes sense that there are some older, less popular (possibly) deities lying around the place. And a few years ago, I started getting nudges from Crom Dubh, Crom Cruach and Tailtiu. And I started rooting through duchas.ie and a few research paper sites, that sort of thing. Because while the links between Brigid and Lúnasa are few, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to do at this time.

Now, I have to be honest. I don’t go for the climbing mountains aspect – for many years, I just plain wasn’t able to! But that is an important part of the worship part for the two Croms anyway. (Tailtiu is less bothered by climbing mountains in my experience and more concerned with acknowledging her really!)

But I do look at strewing flowers around the place. Lighting candles, a few vases around the place, even just a quick thank you, helps a lot with satisfying them.

A turning point for me

For me, this is my turning point. It’s six months out from my planting of new seeds to grow. A mere three months out from my real introvert time of dreaming and planning. Time to reap what I’ve sown and start taking stock for the coming winter.

I know, these days most of us have weekly, fortnightly, monthly paychecks. We’re not taking stock of food stores to see us through the winter. But we do have some big ticket items in the winter. Nearly every culture on earth that experiences winter, has a winter festival of some sort. Whether is Christmas, Solstice, Kwanzaa and a whole heap more – anywhere the days get shorter and darker, has something. And, if you’re like me and your parents were so inconsiderate by having birthdays within a week of each other, in bloody November of all things… well the winter season gets expensive.

So it’s no harm to use the old festivals and apply them to our modern lives as well.

Brigid and Lúnasa

Let’s be real. There are no direct links between Brigid and Lúnasa. But that doesn’t mean, as Brigid workers, we don’t acknowledge or work with the season either. It’s important to build in check points for ourselves. It’s important that we engage with our personal work and our more public work in the right way.

That’s how we keep right relationship.

But it’s easy to slip out of things we had planned to do. It’s easy to give up when the going gets tough.

So take the time. Re-connect with yourself. Re-align with your goals, your values and see what you have left to do this year!

Imbolc for you

Imbolc is the spring festival in Ireland, marking the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. But what does Imbolc mean for you? As a festival, it is traditionally associated with the Irish goddess Brigid and the awakening of the Earth. While Imbolc has deep roots in Ireland, its essence can be embraced and celebrated worldwide. In this guide, we’ll explore how to honor Imbolc in a meaningful way, even if you’re not in Ireland. We’ll focus on using local natural materials for crafting crosses, adapting foods based on seasonal availability, and assessing the weather before deciding on certain crucial factors for your Imbolc rituals.

Crafting Imbolc Crosses with Local Materials

I’ve written before on the importance and significance of the Brigid’s cross at Imbolc. There’s no harm in revisiting it again though. I make a Brigid’s cross most years, because rushes are plentiful and easy enough to get. The cross is an important symbol of protection – particularly against fires. And you can imagine the importance of protection against fire in a world before fire fighters and emergency numbers existed? Once a thatch catches hold, it’s damn near impossible to put out. Or at the very least, requires specific considerations from modern fire fighters…

PIcture of my Brigid stature, holding a flame, in front of a cauldron, with a lit tea light on the cauldron and a Brigid's cross in between Brigid and the cauldron
PIcture of my Brigid stature, holding a flame, in front of a cauldron, with a lit tea light on the cauldron and a Brigid’s cross in between

Crosses were put on houses, barns, byres, sheds… even cattle and other valuable animals. (Yes, that is also how common rushes or corn is in Ireland, even now!) But what about if you don’t have access to rushes?

Why rushes?

Well, here’s the thing. Look at the reasons why we use the rushes in Ireland. They’re damn near everywhere. They’re free for the taking along most banks of water. And we have a lot of water in Ireland as well. I’ve thrown a map of the major rivers in Ireland below but for each of those you can add in another 20 or so minor rivers. Or perhaps water movements that would only be considered a river in Ireland!

A map showing the major Irish rivers. From here

And the Clare peninsula? It doesn’t have rivers on the map, but it certainly has rivers. However, because of the Burren, they tend to be smaller and let’s face it, the Shannon takes a lot…

So rushes aren’t an issue here. Some years though, I have made crosses from grass from the garden because getting to the local river wasn’t possible for me. That’s ok too. Most places around the world have some sort of grass or natural growth that you can bend in half. To make the style of cross I generally make – see that pic above – all you need is a natural material in your locality that bends in half.

What can you use instead?

I have seen people make mini crosses out of pine leaves in the Brigid’s Forge Facebook group. That looked difficult to me, but it’s a sign of the ingenuity among Brigid followers. To me, look at what’s around you. Adapt the traditional Irish custom to suit your surroundings.

Imbolc traditions aren’t written in stone at all. And for most of our history, certainly from approx 1600 – 1970 (or later) wealth was rare in Ireland. People used what was to hand. Take the thought behind the practice and make it work for you. Your Imbolc practice is your practice.

Look around you. Look for anything that’s natural growing in your area than you can bend in two. Use that. Give it a go. There’s no one marking your results out of ten for a passing grade!

Seasonal foods

I’ve written extensively before on food for Imbolc. Please, don’t be throwing those “sun-like” foods at me. Seriously, when I was growing up, we got pancakes once a year, on Shrove Tuesday. Absolutely nothing to do with spring as such, more to do with using up eggs and butter before the fast starts. How our ancestors were convinced to adhere to this sort of fasting I don’t know, but I suppose for many of them, it really wasn’t an issue most of the time.

But again, this post is about Imbolc and you. So, what can you do? Well, dairy is always good for Brigid. You know this. Butter, eggs, milk, yoghurt, etc. You’re dairy free for whatever reason? Look at beef, mutton, lamb, pork. Meat-free and dairy free? Tune in to yourself and herself. Look at the food our ancestors ate. Or use foods that are in season where you are.

The problem with potatoes…

Again, the aim is to look at what’s behind the thoughts. Many of the Dúchas.ie entries mention a pile of mashed spuds in the middle of the table with a dollop of butter in the middle. Absolutely. You know why? Because it was the main source of food for our ancestors for many generations. And the butter was a treat. When you have nothing, you make a celebration out of what you have.

Don’t use spuds. I’ve said this before, please, please, please, don’t use spuds. Yes, they’re associated with the Irish, but dammit, they’re an import from South America. Not native Irish.

It’s not that I have an issue with potatoes, you understand. I quite enjoy them. I have entire cookbooks revolving around them. But they are a colonisers’ food here in Ireland that has become synonymous with my nation because it was the only way my ancestors could feed their families.

Feasting

A major part of all the Irish festivals is that food element. Feasting is highlighted in pretty much all of our writings. Food was central to all of our celebrations. So, look to what you have around you. Seasonal food is best for this sort of celebration in my opinion, but don’t go bankrupting yourself. Seriously – this post is title “Imbolc and you”. The aim is to come to a place where you don’t cause yourself pain and torment to mark the occasion. (Well unless you’re into that sort of thing. No judgement here!)

So, how can you feast? What does feast mean to you? Maybe it’s splashing out on a food you really enjoy but only have rarely. Maybe it’s making beans on toast but lighting a candle at the table. I don’t define what “feast” means to you!!

Weather

The last thing I’m going to touch on is the weather. I’m well aware from talking to friends in the States and Canada, that there are places with 23″ of snow right now. (58cm for those of us who have reached the 20th century…) So, it’s possible that “seasonal foods” and “local grasses” are irrelevant for you.

It’s also entirely possible that anything I’ve written above is just not possible for you for other reasons – you’re in the middle of an urban area with no local growth. Or it’s not possible for you to reach somewhere where things grow.

This is all ok. The Irish did what they could to mark the occasion with the materials they had to hand. If you can’t get local grasses, can you get another natural material? A fibre like wool maybe? Not as easy, but there are knitting patterns for Brigid’s crosses out there. (No, I didn’t really believe it either) On that same link, you can see DIY kits for Brigid’s crosses. If you have the resources and want to do that – go for it.

In the end…

(Anyone else have this going through their heads?)

Your Imbolc celebration is about you. I will critique people on the internet and elsewhere presenting personal gnosis as general practice. Or indeed when people just plain make shit up. (No, I’m not linking, I’ve to mind my blood pressure as it is!) But your private practice is a different thing.

So here’s some questions to help you out on how to adapt Imbolc for you:

  • Why did the Irish use that method or resource
  • Is there something that serves a similar purpose in my surroundings?
  • How can I keep the intent the same, without adhering exactly to the actual practices?
  • What can I do to honour the purpose of the festival? To honour the coming of the spring, with new growth, new life, new purpose?

Let me know if you have any questions!

Brigid, Imbolc and Food

An exploration of some of the strange food posts I see around this time of year and some suggestions for what to look at for your Imbolc celebration!

Every year, around this time, I start seeing a flood of posts and pages on the internet posting about what food to eat and make for Imbolc. What are traditional Imbolc foods? What should we be making that is appropriate and traditional for Imbolc? Along with recipes and the links between Brigid and this food. And a lot of it is pure bull shit. Now, to be clear, I’m coming at this from an Irish Brigid perspective, as always. But there’s a load of dubious information around the place that we need to clarify. So here’s a list on commonalities I see permeating these posts:

Selection of potatoes
A picutre of a pile of potatoes, white, red, yellow in colour, in a variety of sizes
  • Brigid as sun deity. Now, you might, might I say, have a case for this in Scotland. They tell the legend of the Cailleach ruling the winter and Brigid the summer there. Brigid being released or rescued or escaping is One of the signs of spring and the returning of the sun. But this isn’t the case in Ireland. There might again be an extremely loose, dodgy link between Brigid and the sun. I mean, the sun is a great big fiery ball, but this isn’t something that happens in Irish lore. Irish deities just plain aren’t set up that way, to be the “Deity of X”. There are things we can connect them to, because of the lore and the stories, but we wouldn’t refer to them as the deity of X. And this rules out a lot of what follows through this type of post.
  • The absolute lack of differentiation between Irish and Scottish practices and beliefs. Seriously – there’s a reason I specify it’s Irish Brigid I follow. Because I know the beliefs, the lore, the practices are different in Ireland and Scotland. There’s some overlap, sure. The countries are close enough that fluent speakers of Irish and Gaelic can make themselves understood enough to hold a conversation. But that doesn’t mean the beliefs and practices are the same. It is irresponsible at best to smush them together like this.
  • Brigid as maiden. Or being part of the maiden/mother/crone trio. Again. Not the way triple deities work in Ireland. We have no tradition of this at all in our lore. Seriously. There will be a future blog post coming on this soon and why I find the whole construct of MMC so problematic. But please – read our lore. Examine how both our traditions and our modern practices look at women. Just, please…
  • Associating colours with Brigid. I have a lot of UPG around the colours I associate with Brigid, built up over my years of practice. But, the important word (well ok, it’s an acronym) is UPG. It is unverified, it is personal. There’s really nothing in the lore associating Brigid with colours. Ditto with shapes, just FYI. As far as I’m aware, there is nothing in our lore telling me Brigid is happier with round over any other type of shape. I mean, she’s a blacksmith as well as anything else!
  • Linking Imbolc with Candlemas. Candlemas is a short name for the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord. Or the Feast for the Purification of Mary. There’s a Catholic website that gives a good explanation here of the feast. Basically, it’s explained to Catholics, or at least to this one, that after 40 days the first born of any Jewish family had to be presented to the temple and the mother had to visit to be purified after childbirth. There’s a much better explanation, complete with Bible references, in the link above. Now, there is a link in Irish lore between Brigid and Mary. Aside from the way Brigid is called “the Mary of the Gael”, there is a story about Brigid drawing crowds away from Mary and the Holy family as they escaped Herod’s persecution and massacre to Egypt. In this way, Brigid earned the right to precede Mary after that. This means her feast day, 1st Feb comes before Mary’s feast day, 2nd Feb in the Catholic calendar. Can I buggery find a link to that story right now though! But back to my problem with linking Imbolc with Candlemas. They are beside each other in the calendar. Although at least one entry in Duchas equates St. Brigid’s Day with 2nd February rather than the first. However, the blessing of the candles has nothing to do with Brigid. And calling Brigid the Goddess of Light or the Goddess of Illumination makes me feel dodgy. You know – I’ll make a full blog post on this on as well. There’s just too much!
  • The lack of valid information on what foods can be used at this time in Ireland traditionally. Pancakes in Ireland are traditionally associated with Shrove Tuesday, not Imbolc. They are made from eggs, milk, butter and fat all of which were on the list of “abstain from” foods for Lent. Now, I have no problems with pancakes being used as foods for Imbolc celebrations. They’re wonderful food, can be savoury, sweet, sized as you choose….wonderful things. As long as we’re talking about the crepe style pancake more popular in Ireland certainly and not the American breakfast pancake, which is far less versatile in my opinion, but possibly better for eating on the go. But what bugs me about these posts really is they take no notice of what foods might traditionally be available in early February in Ireland, but make it seem like the foods they are suggesting would have been easily available. I have no problem with including seeds in your Imbolc feast – wonderful symbolism in my opinion. Our ancestors wouldn’t have traditionally eaten seeds in Ireland. I mean modern Ireland has seeds, go into any health food store and you’ll find them. But go back a few generations, and it was the desperate who ate their seedstock. It left you nothing to sow for the coming year. Don’t worry, I have a list coming below for this one!
  • Spuds. Potatoes. No.The English coloniers brought the spud to Ireland , “credited” to Sir Walter Raleigh. Jon O’ Sullivan has a great exploration of the role of the spud in Irish history here. Now, spuds are such a staple in Ireland that until very recently, a meal couldn’t be considered a dinner without some potatoes being served along with it. Like within my lifetime. I’ve never seen my Dad take so much interest or concern over what or how my mother cooked as the first time she made lasagne. It was in the late 80’s for reference. If you are going to force a nation to depend on one food for nutrition, the spud isn’t a bad choice. Add in dairy for fats, required for health, and you have a fairly decent nutritional intake. But using spuds to celebrate a deity in Ireland… it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. Pun sort of intended.
  • An overwhelming dependency on the Oimelc origin story for Imbolc. Now, I can’t argue too much with this one, since it at least brings dairy into the picture, but really, drinking ewe’s milk is and has been fairly rare in Ireland. I remember asking my Grandad about this once as a child – his reaction was not positive and was along the lines of “we’re not that desperate”. Milk and dairy in ireland were and still are, predominantly, almost exclusively bovine in nature. But there are very strong links between Brigid and dairy/cows, whether it’s the saint or the deity you’re looking at. So I won’t argue too much with this one, even if it’s taking a convoluted way to reach a destination.
PIcture of dairy foods like milk, cheese, yoghurt, curds,
PIcture of dairy foods like milk, cheese, yoghurt, curds,

So after all that, what would I suggest? Well here’s a few thoughts.

  • Dairy. Brigid is heavily associated with dairy foods – butter, cream, cheese, milk. Think of all the stories in the hagiographies of her making one churn of butter supply twice the butter it should have – usually because she had given the first half away to the less well off.
  • Lamb, Mutton, Beef, Bacon, Pork. Lebor Gabala Érenn explicitly links Brigid to ox, boar and ram. There are traditional Irish recipes for all of this – just remember, an Irish rasher bears very little resemblance to the US/Canadian bacon slices other than they come from the same animal. Allegedly…
  • Foods that are in season in Ireland in late January/February. Leek, Celeriac, Parsnip, Kale, Swede, Purple sprouting broccoli, Beetroot, Winter cabbage, Mushrooms, Turnip, Thyme, Parsley, Lettuce, Cauliflower, Brussels Sprouts, Carrot. From storage: spuds, apples, onion. Check out the Bord Bia website, it’s wonderful!
  • Ancient Irish foods. In general, our ancestors had a wide variety of food to eat in this country. Seriously – cereals like oats and barley, made into porridge and bread. Wild and domesticated meat – although this always depends on wealth. (As it does today.) “Birds, wild boar and goats, deer and even hedgehogs were commonly eaten“. Fish. Nuts- if you’ve read Irish lore, you know hazelnuts feature prominently, but there are other nuts about. Seaweed – although considered a food of the less well off and since the famine consumption has dropped significantly. Rumour has it, consumption is increasing again though.
  • Spiritually or ritually significant foods. I know I said earlier seeds weren’t eaten in Ireland traditionally – and I stand by that. But I do appreciate the symbolism of seeds at Imbolc – I’d just prefer to see people planting them than eating them ritually speaking. Make the special cake. Try out the fancy recipe. You’re welcoming a deity into your home, it’s worth the effort. Just remember to differentiate the items you include because they are special food stuffs versus the food you include because it is linked to Brigid.

There’s a massive variety of food in this country and we are immensely lucky that with the mild climate we have, we can grow food all year round. So fresh fruit and veg are possible most of the year. With planning and preparation of course. And in modern times we have supermarkets, so y’know – that helps. And if you really love some of the recipes that the “Imbolc Food Blogs” describe – go ahead. Use them. But try and delineate for yourself at least the food you are eating to bring you closer to your ancestors (physical, spiritual or other) and the food you are eating cos it tastes good and Imbolc is an excuse for a party. I don’t have problems with the food that’s recommended, as such. It’s the convoluted routes people take to say this particular recipe is ancient or spiritual or connected directly with Brigid.

Would it surprise you to know…

… that my preparation for Imbolc begins in earnest on Tuesday with a trip to a spa for a couple of nights? Why? Well the first phase of my preparation framework is physically focused and the first phase of that for me is my body. My body is not quite in rack and ruin right now, but it’s feeling fairly beat up – 2+ months of an ear infection, a chest infection, lingering cough… there’s been a lot going on, and my body needs some downtime.

Now this trip has been planned for about six months, I’m going away with my Mam and combining my own need for luxury and pampering with her birthday, Christmas and Mother’s Day presents. Well, I couldn’t expect her to go alone right? We’re off to Monart which is yes, expensive, but also, very much worth it to me and I’ve been saving up so I can relax and not think about the money while we’re there. I fully intend spending the three days in my swimming togs and robe and slippers, with lots of steaming, saunaing, infra-red-heating, hot pool bathing… I can’t wait.

See, preparation for a ritual usually involves deprivation and restraint – but it doesn’t have to. Sometimes we need this pampering. Sometimes we need the luxury. Now, I can’t always afford to go on a fantastic trip like this, but then, if I couldn’t do the spa thing, a fancy bath at home would be taking centre stage. (To be clear, a fancy bath at home will be happening several times over the coming months as I prepare for Imbolc, as well!) I have stocked up on bath bombs and candles and bubbles etc. And I can transform my usually pedestrian bathroom into a lovely candlelit paradise as well to help with the ambience.

There will be other preparations that are less fun of course. Making sure I can meet my own eyes in the mirror is always a fun exercise, not, but it’s necessary for me to know that I’m on the right path still and doing the right thing. There is rarely a judge as harsh as your own eyes, in my experience. Other people make excuses or take into account what they see an extenuating circumstances – our own eyes don’t though. It’s not that I expect to find I’ve done something majorly wrong – I’ve not killed anyone, stolen, hurt anyone that I know of, so the major stuff is out, but I may find thoughts coming to mind I want to make amends for and get myself back in right relationship with before Imbolc. As an exercise, it’s no harm to do that every now and again.

Because after meeting my own eyes, comes meeting her eyes. And that can be hard as well – especially if I’ve been letting my practices slip and need to make up some ground. Or if I’ve been steadfastly ignoring her increasingly unsubtle hints about something. And getting that back on plan or having a straight conversation about whether or not I’ll be doing something is important to have out before Imbolc as well.

For the next three months, I’ll be working my way through my preparations for Imbolc and some of the prep is the wonderfully luxurious treatments I’ll be undergoing next week and some of the prep is scrubbing the desk I’ll be using as part of my ritual. Some of it is exciting and wonderful and cool, and frankly, some of it is drudgery. But I know I will arrive at Imbolc with a clean slate and prepared for a ritual that suits me, my resources and my needs this year.

it will be an exciting three months, and if you’d like to join me on the journey, you can sign up here. It will be a small group though, so sign up quickly before all the places are filled! The course includes the practical exercises that I go through, and the development of those exercises over the three months. Each month, there’s 2 sessions – the first where I’m outlining the background, the thinking and the exercises, and the second session is where you get to ask or discuss anything that comes up for you when you try them out. And of course, email support as you need it through the three months. I hope to see you there!

Samhain & cycles

Today is the 31st October, Halloween, Samhain. OK, so Samhain can be considered more of a season than a day, but as we all know, in modern life (as in all time periods in history), unless you’re very privileged, it’s difficult to allow spiritual practice centre stage in life all the time. ( I do have another post on Brigid and Samhain if you’re interested!) And Samhain is part of the annual cycle of fire festivals in Ireland

Image above is of a carved turnip, the traditional means of decorating in Ireland for the Samhain part of the annual cycle. And then pumpkins started arriving from the States, and frankly, they’re a lot easier to carve out!!

In my own case, right now, I’m writing this on my phone, while snuggled up on the couch, looking at the Level Orange Rain Warning through the window. Oh and a hot water bottle on one ear & some happy Netflix romcom on in the background. Yup, that lurgy I mentioned last week still isn’t shaking, despite a week in bed! But it means that I will be limiting my my Samhain observances this yea. An extra place set at the table tonight. Walking the bounds & grounds at some point in the next week when the rain lets up a bit. I mean, it’ll be November in Ireland – hoping for a fully dry day might get pushing it a bit!

But also, once my Samhain cycle activities are over, I start preparing for Imbolc. Last year, I ran a course that people seemed to really enjoy, called Preparation for Imbolc. I’ll be running the same course again this year. (If you want to sign up for more info on that, please click here). It’s an almost three month course taking you through my framework for preparing for Imbolc.

So, today, I’m sitting down with my planning (Bank Holiday here in Ireland) and working out what I need to do in the next three or so months. Cos it’s a busy season. Samhain probably heralds one of my busiest cycles in the year, in direct contrast to that of agricultural folk. But here we go – there are observations I do around November in relation to ancestor work and the Catholic stuff. December is solstice and Christmas of course. January is the final run in to Imbolc. I find things get even more intense around then!

Just to be clear, this isn’t me moaning by the way. Being in tune with the cycles of the year, however that looks for me and acknowledging that I have a busy season coming up, means I’m aware of what’s coming. All of the above is voluntary. By planning I can fit it into my life sensibly, instead of running myself into the ground by trying to get everything done at the last minute. And while Samhain is a major festival, it’s also the signal to start getting things in order for the next three months as well. We forget the cycle runs through the year. Taking it easy for one of the fire festivals isn’t the end of the world!

So, wishing people a happy Samhain always seems a bit strange to me, but I hope you get to celebrate or acknowledge the season in a way that’s meaningful to you. For this part of the cycle anyway. And that everything you want to do works out well. If you have to cut your cloth a bit, as I’m doing this year, focus on what’s truly important to you. I’ve explained above what this looks like for me. Spare plate at the dinner. Walking the bounds and grounds. Bit of divination. Visiting a graveyard and remembering my loved ones who are dead during November. Short post today, but given I can’t move off the couch yet , I don’t think I did too badly, did I? All prayers and well wishes for helping shake off this bloody thing are welcome!

Conversations with the Dagda

For any of you who make a habit of reading the Dagda Bard blog by Jon O’Sullivan (and really, why wouldn’t you, he’s great!), the following post may seem familiar in style. It is – Jon often uses his conversations with the Dagda to explore themes, issues etc but this is the first time I’ve done so here. I’ve used fiction – but this isn’t fiction exactly. Think of it as me interpreting an experience I had over the weekend with the Dagda.

As I stood in circle, listening to the woman in charge calling in the quarters, making a decent attempt at it as well, I felt the Big Man settle in beside me.

“What’s all this then?” he muttered, much in the manner of an old friend catching up with the news at a funeral.

“Cacao ceremony” I replied, a bit nervously to be honest. I was reasonably sure the woman was doing this ethically, but sometimes his notions of ethics and mine are different. I felt him shaking with a fit of the giggles as she called in the Dagda, Father Sky.

“Father of many and now Father Sky as well? Isn’t that some responsibility I have now. “

He queued up behind me with a massive mug to grab some cacao anyway, after we sat through the explanation. I look at it in askance, I tell you, seeing as how the woman was measuring out every drop like a pub landlord. He winked and shrugged and sure enough, got his mug filled to the brim. Mind you, I’m almost certain I got a bit extra as well.

And then we sat, and sipped the drink in a companionable silence. I started the talking then.

“I think it’s ethical. She trained with them.”

“She did indeed,” he agreed. ” And sources it direct from the growers as well, helping their local economy”.

“And she’s trying to honour the locals here as well, using her bit of Gaeilge.”

“She did. I can’t wait to tell Manannán he’s now a goddess though!” He smirked. “Goddess of the sea, indeed.”

“Well, she’s trying at least and this stuff appeals more to women for some reason. “

“There’s 3 men here besides myself, y’know.”

“Yes, and 17 women to counterbalance them?”

“Fair point. Still, worse things to be doing on a Saturday night, sipping hot chocolate with friends and getting ready to dance.”

I started getting nervous. The Dagda dances like no one I’ve seen, but I’ve always seen him dancing with partners. This was solo ecstatic dance…

“Oh I know that right enough,” he said, giving me an image of himself and Brigid at a wedding, whirling away. “And I much prefer dancing with a partner, although usually not my daughter. Still it was her wedding… And I’ll do well enough here, you’ll see!”

I mean, he’s a deity, I prefer to keep my arguments to the really important stuff. Like exactly how much space he gets in my house.

“Ah sure, I have the small statue now and Brigid loans me some space when I need it.”

Bloody deities, reading our minds when it suits.

“Only when you broadcast your feelings on the matter so widely.”

I started focusing on the upcoming dance, and getting my body in the mood for the movement. We stood beside each other, me easing out my joints, flexing my limbs, getting ready to move; him a bit more solitary.

“It’s not like dance in and of itself is appropriation you know. Nor is trying new food from far off places.” He started.

“No, but we’re talking about the Cacao Goddess and the heart opening that follows.”

“True enough, true enough. Do you believe in the Cacao Goddess?”

“I’m a bit worried she’s a bit like the Irish Potato Goddess!”

He laughed at me, “Oh that’s a good one alright! Well I suppose when three quarters of the country was scrabbling in the ground for any remnant of a spud, while the ships were leaving the ports straining at the seams with food, it might seem like there was a religious element to it, alright.”

The music started and we both started to move. And he is a beautiful sight to behold when he dances. I couldn’t believe no one else noticed, as I plodded alongside him.

“Oh now this is the stuff” he yells as the drums kicked in and the beat got stronger, and it’s at this point the music took over and my body stopped thinking and started moving. I let myself fall into the beat and the rhythm, and just move. It was a joyous and happy movement, pain free for the first time in years, eyes closed, hands and feet tapping out the best and muscles moving in time. My body dripped in sweat, sometimes in time with himself, sometimes away in my own journey. Hair was flung, by both of us!

And as the music faded, he came to sit beside me again.

“Y’see, you need to think of it the other way around. If this was being run on another continent, by a teacher who had trained or learned from Irish people, was supporting Irish people by donating money, or buying authentic Irish goods, herbs, and the like, in their ceremony, would you consider that appropriation?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Life doesn’t always have to be hard y’know. Sometimes, you can sit back, look at the stars, and just enjoy it.”

And somehow, while the meditation went on around us, we were really sitting on a grassy hill, watching the stars, in a companionable silence.

The Year in Ireland – Kevin Danaher

Image shows the book “The Year in Ireland” by Kevin Danaher

I finally managed to get a copy of this book and I’m so excited by it. I’ve been reading about the hungry month of July, as well as Lúnasa traditions, and I obviously will be reading the rest of the book as well, but it’s just such a lovely book and really easy to read.

I’ve seen copies going for €2-300, which is a bit beyond my price range, even for a book like this, but I found a copy for €59 (including postage) from Carmarthaen Books (well I found them on abebooks.com, which is a great website for finding older books) and it arrived earlier this week and I’m having a great time reading through it.

I know, it’s a short post, but I had to share my excitement with ye all! I love reading the old traditions and then think through how these traditions would/wouldn’t work today. For example, July isn’t really a hungry month anymore for most of Ireland – or at least no more hungry than all the other months of the year. We have a consistent food supply (as long as you have the resources to buy said food, which is not yet, unfortunately, a given) so I never heard of burning the straw from the corn instead of threshing it. We don’t, thankfully, survive on spuds and dairy any more either, so we have options when it comes to food.

But it also got me thinking that the abundance of food we eat tends to lead us to take it for granted, in ways that those who grow their own food and depend on that food can’t. We’ve separated the reality of growing food, whether plant or animal, from the eating of the food. The majority of people wandering around the supermarket on a Thursday night don’t really understand, at a bone deep level, what it takes to grow a calf from birth to death to turn it into meat. Or even to mind the cow so she can produce another calf in time. Or the pain and loss of losing a lamb or ewe at 3am on a wild night (or even at 3pm on a sunny day – the loss is no less, even if the surroundings are marginally more pleasant!) The backbreaking work of weeding a long, long line of spuds, hoping the worm doesn’t come up, or the birds don’t peck the new seedlings or any of the other various means by which a crop can be ruined or less than it should be.

And it got me thinking as well, that I am able to express preferences in food that my grandparents, or even my parents, were never able to. In the space of a single generation in Ireland we’ve gone from managing food carefully to last the cycle of the year, to food being readily available on supermarket shelves almost always. Our expectations of food are shown in the way we expect formerly exotic foods like tomatoes on a daily basis, with no understanding of the distances the tomato has travelled to get to us, or the energy required in growing it in Ireland. Avocados – once a staple in Mexico, if I understand correctly – is now too expensive for locals to eat, because foreigners, in our supermarkets, are willing to pay well beyond what those locals can pay. I think this would be similar to the spud being too expensive for the Irish to buy – although the price of spuds is rising consistently as well…

And we must remember that the spud isn’t of course native to our land, but it was so easy (relatively speaking) to grow, and you get so much return for your effort (again, relatively speaking) in terms of nutrition and calories, that it was adopted as families grew larger, land lots grew smaller and more was needed from less soil. So what did people eat before the spud? Apparently dairy. A lot of dairy. It’s well worth reading up on, if you get the chance, or I might do another blog post on it, if people are interested, but there are reports that dairy, milk, cream, cheese were hugely important. (Well most of our big sagas are around cattle, so it stands to reason really!) Oats were the usual grain, wheat being a bit difficult to grow in our climate. For fruit and veg: well the national obsession with bacon and cabbage was come by honestly, apparently, for cabbage, parsnip, onion and garlic were common enough, as were berries (seriously, even today, you can get a fair crop of berries around the island from wild sources) Seaweed for those living along the coast, of course, as well as fish from coast and river. So, y’know, actually a fairly comprehensive diet pre-spud.

But I haven’t come to that in Kevin Danaher’s book yet and I think he’s looking at post-spud introduction anyway, so it’s going to be interesting to see how often food is mentioned throughout the book. And even the small bit I’ve read, of the hungry month of July, is enough to have me considering what I eat and how I appreciate it.

St. Brigid’s Well, Liscannor

A picture of the well entrance, white washed stone hut on the left, with a bench outside and 2 potted plants at the entrance, a set of stone steps to the right, with a low wall and hint of tree trunks and greenery. From: http://irelandsholywells.blogspot.com/2014/01/saint-brigids-well-liscannor-county.html

I have often said that there as wells dedicated to Brigid in most counties in Ireland and I’ll stand by that statement (although the paper I discuss below mentions Patrick Logan’s “The Holy Wells of Ireland”, which outlines 15 wells dedicated to St. Brigid in 11 counties. It also mentioned there are probably more undocumented, so my initial thoughts might be still valid…

Some, however, are a bit more famous than others. St Brigid’s Well in Liscannor, Co. Clare is one such. Now my mother grew up not far from the well and she has mentioned in the past the days when the crowds would come to the well, from the Aran Islands and all over Co. Clare (and I’m sure elsewhere as well) but until I was in Clare a few summers ago (thank you COVID), I didn’t realise how big an insitution it was. We had the (mis)fortune of driving by on the Feast of the Assumption (my grandad’s birthday) and getting stuck in the traffic jam. Honestly – it’s a quiet country road usually, but it took us a good hour to go a mile… my own fault really, I should have been paying attention to the date!

A picture from Google Maps, showing green hedges in the front and a glass/plastic enclosed statue of St. Brigid, holding a crozier and book in the middle, with a stone wall and tall trees behind her

Anyway, over the last few days, following on from my delight over the Brigid Shoe Shrine in the last post, I was doing some mooching around academia.edu and came across a wonderful paper called Saint Brigid: Holy Wells, Patterns and Relics by David W. Atherton and Michael Peter Peyton. It explore Peyton’s memories of the regular Pattern or Patron Days at the well, and he maintains there were four times a year when people would visit the well en masse: St. Brigid’s Eve (31st January), the Saturday and Sunday of Crom Dubh (the last Sunday of July and the vigil) and the Feast of the Assumption, as mentioned above is the 15th July. Now at another time I’d like to come back and visit the connection to Crom Dubh, but I’m forcing myself to put that aside for now.

The paper refers to the “Catholic authorities” being concerned about the morality of these gatherings, given that there was drinking and dancing and all sorts of things going on – even, God forbid! “those practices that involve a striving to have children and such, since such practices smack more of superstition than devotion“. Ah yes, the striving to have children and such??? Anyone else wondering what the “and such” entails?? All in all though, as many a good Irish Catholic will tell you, when the priest is warning you off a party, gathering or event, it’s usually a good sign it’ll be worthwhile going! Things had calmed down a bit in the mid-20th century, and I have to say I saw no signs of debauchery of any kind when I was driving by a few years ago, although it was in the middle of the afternoon. Maybe I should have gone back that night…

As well as the commentary on the morals of the gatherings, the paper includes the “rounds” or the practices to go through to gain the saint’s favour or help in your endeavour. Now, they say they got these from Wikipedia, but I can’t find them on there, which is a bit annoying. On the other hand, as far as prayers go, I don’t see any issue with using this one and the rounds are very well described in the paper. I’d suggest reading the paper to get the full extent of the rounds, as they involve the upper and lower sanctuary and are something I will be doing myself when next I’m down there. But I’ll reproduce the prayer here:

Go mbeannaí Íosa duit, a Bhríd Naofa,

Go mbeannaí Muire duit, is go mbeannaím féin duit,

Chugat a thána’ mé ag géarán mo scéil chugat,

Agus d’iarraidh cabhair in onóir Dé ort.

In English, this is: May Jesus bless you, St. Brigid/ Holy Brigid, May Mary bless you and may I myself bless you. It is to yourself I have come, voicing my complaint and asking your help for the honour of God.

Now I can understand that this is a fairly Catholic prayer and sure the well is devoted to St. Brigid these days, so there’s no surprise there, but there are ways to alter it to a more pagan option. I’ve done my best below.

Beannachtaí an lae ort, a Bhríd,

Beannachtaí an oíche ort, is mo bheannchtaí féin ort comh maith.

Chugat a tháinig mé ag géarán mo scéal chugat,

agus d’iarraidh cabhair ort.

In short, this translates as “blessings of the day to you, Brigid, blessings of the night to you and my own blessings as well. It is to yourself I have come, voicing my complaint and asking your help”.

The prayer isn’t necessarily tied to St. Brigid’s Well, Liscannor of course and could be adapted, as could the rite, to any well or water really in my opinion.

Finally, the Irish for well is usually taught these days as tobar, but in the paper, the well in Liscannor is consistently referred to as Dabhach Bhríde. And dabhach has other meanings in Irish as well, which I found interesting: copper, tank, trough, vat. And this had me thinking of the forge again, because coper, tanks, troughs and vat are likely to be found in a forge. PURE UPG alert here, folks, this is my brain rambling and making connections that may or may not be there. But I’d like to think that the well had some connection, at some point to the older versions of Brigid, in her forge, hammering away.

And now, I want to go explore Crom Dubh and see why people would be going to St. Brigid’s well on the Sunday of Crom Dubh, so I’ll leave it there!

Brigid and her Da

Because I’ve been preparing for a Bealtaine ritual and practice class over the last few months, I’ve been working more than usual with the Dagda. I mean, he’s always there in the background anyway, it’s not like he’s not a regular visitor, but I’ve been actively working with him more than usual lately. To the extent that I exclaimed in one of the Brigid in Ireland classes just after Imbolc that I had only Frankincence & Myrrh incense available to me! (For reasons with that, check out the stories about How the Dagda Got his Staff, I think both Jon O’Sullivan and Morgan Daimler have the story on their blogs)

Anyway, as part of the work, I’ve been looking at the relationship between the Dagda and Brigid. And if I’m honest, it bears reflection on the relationship with my own Dad as well. I mean one of the Dagda’s epitaph’s is “Ollathair”, meaning “Father of many” and not “Father of all” as many translate it. That’s Zeus I think? Definitely not Irish anyway!

But the relationship between the Dagda and Brigid is really interesting. She’s one of his offspring that just don’t have a story with him as such, acting in a fatherly way. She’s clearly outlined as the Dagda’s daughter in several places in the lore, but they don’t get a story together really. So what follows here is extrapolated from the lore, but is UPG. Maybe I should put that in big red letters or something?

Anyway, for me, the Dagda comes across as a loving and caring Dad to his offspring. He brings one of the back from the dead, he arranges for another to get the land he wants, paying out of his own land for replacement for the previous occupant, he takes in foster kids, the general impression is a father who loves his kids and will do right by them. Now I don’t get the feeling he’s a complete push over, but I can also see him easily sneaking sweets or a few quid when it’s needed as well as providing the discipline when that’s needed as well.

And he doesn’t claim to be perfect one way or another, which is good. You add that impression to my impressions of Brigid as an independent, stubborn, dedicated deity who does what it takes to get the job done, and you can see where she’d get that work ethic from. The Dagda is good at it, whatever it is, y’see and I can’t imagine him allowing his daughter not to be prepared for anything life might throw at her.

I can easily see them sitting down by the fire, debating freely the topics of the day, or talking through problems, or working out difficulties. I imagine they have similar debates as the ones myself and my own Da have as well – where we know damn well the other one isn’t going to change their mind and the arguments are so old, we each know what the other will say, but sure it’s fun to revisit the classics anyway… A gentle teasing undercurrent, a mutual respect, an insistence on facts and proof…

Relating to parents or children as adults isn’t always an easy transition to make, but I figure after a few thousand years or so, they must have gotten there right?

I know from personal experience as well that the Dagda is an expert at the gentle chiding that my own Da can produce at times as well. He (the Dagda) isn’t too happy with how I’m nourishing myself lately, although he understands my issues with food, and isn’t pushing it too far. He’s also reminded me every morning this week that I’m teaching this class on Saturday and it’s not written yet (it will be don’t worry, he just wants to make sure it’s done right…)

That subtle, gentle “are you sure you want that” could be hugely annoying from someone else, but from the Dagda, I can take it since he doesn’t overdo it and it’s generally after 2-3 days of a 100% chocolate diet. (Oh yeah, that’s possible, trust me 😀 ) And it’s never given in a “you always do this” or ~”oh shite, you’re at this again?” type of way. It’s always more of a “look, you know you will feel better if…) Which helps a lot.

And he wants to keep an eye on his daughter as well. Even if she is a grown adult and is perfectly capable of helping herself, if he can help her, he will, whether it’s a few quid at the end of the month or dropping in to take care of a few small repairs she’s too busy to tend to herself. She’s his little girl after all, for all she’s a deity in her own right. And that’s isn’t to belittle her at all, more that he cares for her and loves her and won’t give up on her no matter what. And in return, she will pop by for him, when she feels he’s doing too much or invite him round for a bite to eat on a night she knows he’s been pushing himself hard, or even think up an excuse for him to have to do some gentler work urgently as a break from the more difficult stuff.

Or indeed, either of them can provoke a row or heated debate with the other, when they realise the other needs to let off steam. And offer a hug for comfort as well.

He’s a big man, the Dagda, both physically and energetically and he can be overwhelming sometimes, but he’s aware of this and wouldn’t want to cause accidental harm to people just saying hello. I’d still approach him with respect and courtesy initially at least, unless/ until you develop a relationship with him and be careful what you say to him. I once said he was welcome to what food we had in the house and very quickly changed it to he’s welcome to share in our meals, because otherwise, we might find ourselves out of food very quickly! He won’t come where he’s explicitly not invited, but he will come and visit members of his family from time to time, so don’t worry if he pops up as part of a Brigidine practice. It’s probably not you he’s checking up on, although it might be.

He’s fair, he’s steady, he’s dependable. He’s also highly attractive to the ladies, if the amount of mothers for his kids are anything to go by. He can be a rock in a crisis, but he’s a better rock after you develop a relationship with him. He’s big on hospitality and cooking and looking after people. But he can and will remind you to look after all your tools, even your own body, mind, spirit.

And there’s nothing specifically in the lore to tie him into Bealtaine, but the general themes of fertility (in Ireland mostly of the bovine sort or general prosperity, but human fertility fits the Dagda as well), preparing the ground, marshalling resources for the coming year fit him very well. So it’s UPG for him to be linked to Bealtaine, but he’s the most obvious one for me!

Has the Dagda appeared in your work with Brigid? How has it gone?