Crone in Corrogue: Wild Wisdom of the Elder Years
Glorying in the elder years, a time of spirituality, service and some serious sacred activism
Betwixt & Between with Bee in Tuatha dé Danaan Land
Welcome to my world one that is quite literally magical. In this blog I’ll share how a relict goddess, the legends of her devotees and the earth that is their homeplace have nurtured my spiritual path.
In 2001 after a protracted leave taking from England, my Irish born partner and I were led to Ireland guided by Yeats’ synchronicities, goddess guidance and the ridiculous spinning of a pendulum over a map in County Cavan, a place neither of us remotely entertained as our new Irish residence.
However Brigit and Yeats’ and the pendulum knew better than our scepticism. By various meaningful coincidences we landed in Dowra, the first village on the river Shannon. It is a village that spreads over two counties, Cavan and Leitrim. Moreover, there is rumoured to be a remnant of the Black Pig’s Dyke, an earthwork defence to keep marauding Ulsterman out of Connaught, behind Oliver McGrail’s house. So we also bestride two ancient kingdoms of Ireland. To complicate matters still, this corner of northwest Ireland was also a subkingdom – Breifne – which actually does accurately follow the geological contours that the ice sheets sculpted millennia ago.
So we dwell in a neither here nor there and simultaneously both sort of place. This tends to addle one’s daily mindset.
The Cuilcagh Mountain range is Breifne’s spine. Slieve Anieran is on the far side of the parish. Translating as Iron Mountain, this is the place in the mythic invasion tales of Ireland where the Tuatha dé Danaan first landed on this island. As the myths tell us eventually they were vanquished and went to ground, virtually literally, at their homeplace after the second battle at Moytura. They transformed into the folkloric fairy race.
The Tuatha dé were worshippers of the goddess Danu. She’s a mysterious one, virtually lost from written record. She’s a memory or spiritual atavism who may havehad Her roots in India. Yet she is also indubitably Celtic and disputably distinguishable from Anu. See, no one can agree.
Shortly after we moved to our acre and bit on the Cavan side of the village I became unsettled in my flame tending for Brigit. It became a struggle and eventually I realised that a local deity desired my attention and acknowledgement. Each night I would walk our lane with our dogs and face the Playbank, a rocky escarpment at the termination of Slievenakila. “Who are you? Please tell me your name.” I asked and asked and finally it emerged – Danu.
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