RJ Stewart
Is the Easter branching what RJ Stewart calls a Faery Line? The following is from his website rjstewart.org. It is music for my Soul. Thanks RJ!
When I was traveling in Ireland some years ago, visiting ancient sites, one such site was in the back yard of a farmhouse. The woman of the house opened the door: She had a baby upon her hip, and inside the lounge I could see a television, loudly on, and a refrigerator, and a computer. After asking her permission to go through the yard, she said, “Of course you can go through…but be careful. A mighty king is buried there, and anyone who disturbs him loses the use of their arms and legs.” So here was this modern young woman directly, and seriously, telling me something that had been handed down for thousands of years… for the site was a megalithic chamber tomb. But more than this telling, was the inherent idea that to interfere with the land at a place of power is to ask for trouble. Needless to say, I did not disturb the site in any way.
Another modern story that I had from several independent sources was of the man somewhere in Ireland, in a place not to be named, who broke a faery line when he extended his new house. Faery lines are found in many Celtic countries (they are not to be confused with the fashionable idea of ley lines, for they are something different, and unique to the faery tradition). In some old communities the lines are marked by small pathways that start suddenly and finish nowhere, or by curves in the roads, or strange breaks in boundary fences and walls. This poor man had been warned that a faery line ran by the back of his new house, but he extended the building anyway. His first son died in an accident, then his second son fell ill and died. Next his third son fell ill, and then he tore down the extension of the house… and the third son recovered.
Now, is this modern story an urban legend? It was relayed to me as contemporary and true. What does it tell us? That if you interfere with faery lines of power, your house and family can become imbalanced and ill, even unto death. So faery tradition is about vitality, the health of the land and the human relationship to that health. Could any subject be more apt and urgent for our polluted corrupt and disease infested times?
What does the faery tradition teach us?
The faery tradition is about spiritual forces, natural forces, embodied as beings that live in the land. If we want to be whole and healthy, we should know more about them, have a better relationship with them. And this is exactly what the old Irish faery tradition us: how to relate to these beings.
My thesis is that far from seeing the stories and practices of faery tradition as quaint old curiosities, that we should look deeper, and learn what the ancestors have to teach us: that we need to relate to the land, the continents, the oceans, the world, in a better and more wholesome way.
The Irish and Celtic faery tradition teaches us that we have spiritual cousins in the land, and that the health of the land depends on our good relationship with them. This is why in some places the faeries are called the Good Neighbors… we live right next to them, if we but knew it.
Many of the so-called superstitions of faery tradition can be seen in a different light once we appreciate that it is a tradition of relationship to the land and sea. For example, we all know that old country people used to, and still do, make offerings. These offerings are food and drink, sometimes brightly colored items or cloths, left at the back door, or at an ancient spring, or at stones, or even at the shrine of a saint. Such things are left for the people of the Sidh, the faeries, the Good Neighbors. They are usually interpreted as “acts of faith” at best, or “acts of ignorance” at worst, superstitious propitiation to avert bad luck.
Let us think about the offerings a different way: the food and drink originally came out of the land (rather than from MacDonald’s or Pepsi…honestly, it’s true, though hard to believe). Thus the offerings were emblematic of giving back: after the hard work of harvest, baking, brewing, something was given back. Even as a simple talisman this is potent, for it is a sign of acknowledgement and respect…we are not greedy, we give back to the land that has given us so much. But there is more.
The faeries are said to absorb the essence, the vitality, of the food and drink. The remaining substance must later be buried, and never given to a human or animal. This is an interesting idea, is it not? That the food and drink from the land have vital forces within them, that human hands can transform the raw food plants into food and drink, and that the transformed vitality can be offered back, sharing it with the spirits of the land. Even as a poetic or psychological practice, there is something deeply appropriate and satisfying in all of this.
In his book, The Spell of the Sensuous, American author David Abrams describes how he saw women make rice offerings in Indonesia, given “to the spirits” but subsequently carried off by ants. Then he tells us that the ants never came into the open houses, and wonders if this traditional practice of offerings to spirits is also a mystery of relating to the insect world. Is his experience in Indonesia and his interpretation of what he saw, based on rationalization, or does it mask a deeper truth, about how humans must interact with the other orders of life to live within the land?
Of course Europeans or Americans just spray chemicals…then we wonder why there are plagues of insects upon us. How does this relate to Irish and Celtic faery tradition? Well, the faery realm is the realm of exchange. As I have heard it aptly described, it is the realm of compost. It is where we give back, share, and exchange. Indeed, this simple but far-reaching truth is found in the faery and land- spirit traditions worldwide. The Indonesian with her rice grains, the woman of Connemara with her sweet baked cakes. They are at one in this fine knowledge: give back, share, and come into harmony with your own land.
On the subject of compost, do you remember the story of the man from county Clare who went into a faery hill, and tricked the occupants out of their pot of gold? When he got home, it was full of leaves and earth. Compost is the gold of the faery realm…but we do not value it sufficiently. So our surface world is dying of chemical toxicity, while the vast riches of our faery cousins are just beneath our feet…. the vast healing riches that we have rejected in pursuit of domination and greed.
When I was traveling in Ireland some years ago, visiting ancient sites, one such site was in the back yard of a farmhouse. The woman of the house opened the door: She had a baby upon her hip, and inside the lounge I could see a television, loudly on, and a refrigerator, and a computer. After asking her permission to go through the yard, she said, “Of course you can go through…but be careful. A mighty king is buried there, and anyone who disturbs him loses the use of their arms and legs.” So here was this modern young woman directly, and seriously, telling me something that had been handed down for thousands of years… for the site was a megalithic chamber tomb. But more than this telling, was the inherent idea that to interfere with the land at a place of power is to ask for trouble. Needless to say, I did not disturb the site in any way.
Another modern story that I had from several independent sources was of the man somewhere in Ireland, in a place not to be named, who broke a faery line when he extended his new house. Faery lines are found in many Celtic countries (they are not to be confused with the fashionable idea of ley lines, for they are something different, and unique to the faery tradition). In some old communities the lines are marked by small pathways that start suddenly and finish nowhere, or by curves in the roads, or strange breaks in boundary fences and walls. This poor man had been warned that a faery line ran by the back of his new house, but he extended the building anyway. His first son died in an accident, then his second son fell ill and died. Next his third son fell ill, and then he tore down the extension of the house… and the third son recovered.
Now, is this modern story an urban legend? It was relayed to me as contemporary and true. What does it tell us? That if you interfere with faery lines of power, your house and family can become imbalanced and ill, even unto death. So faery tradition is about vitality, the health of the land and the human relationship to that health. Could any subject be more apt and urgent for our polluted corrupt and disease infested times?
What does the faery tradition teach us?
The faery tradition is about spiritual forces, natural forces, embodied as beings that live in the land. If we want to be whole and healthy, we should know more about them, have a better relationship with them. And this is exactly what the old Irish faery tradition us: how to relate to these beings.
My thesis is that far from seeing the stories and practices of faery tradition as quaint old curiosities, that we should look deeper, and learn what the ancestors have to teach us: that we need to relate to the land, the continents, the oceans, the world, in a better and more wholesome way.
The Irish and Celtic faery tradition teaches us that we have spiritual cousins in the land, and that the health of the land depends on our good relationship with them. This is why in some places the faeries are called the Good Neighbors… we live right next to them, if we but knew it.
Many of the so-called superstitions of faery tradition can be seen in a different light once we appreciate that it is a tradition of relationship to the land and sea. For example, we all know that old country people used to, and still do, make offerings. These offerings are food and drink, sometimes brightly colored items or cloths, left at the back door, or at an ancient spring, or at stones, or even at the shrine of a saint. Such things are left for the people of the Sidh, the faeries, the Good Neighbors. They are usually interpreted as “acts of faith” at best, or “acts of ignorance” at worst, superstitious propitiation to avert bad luck.
Let us think about the offerings a different way: the food and drink originally came out of the land (rather than from MacDonald’s or Pepsi…honestly, it’s true, though hard to believe). Thus the offerings were emblematic of giving back: after the hard work of harvest, baking, brewing, something was given back. Even as a simple talisman this is potent, for it is a sign of acknowledgement and respect…we are not greedy, we give back to the land that has given us so much. But there is more.
The faeries are said to absorb the essence, the vitality, of the food and drink. The remaining substance must later be buried, and never given to a human or animal. This is an interesting idea, is it not? That the food and drink from the land have vital forces within them, that human hands can transform the raw food plants into food and drink, and that the transformed vitality can be offered back, sharing it with the spirits of the land. Even as a poetic or psychological practice, there is something deeply appropriate and satisfying in all of this.
In his book, The Spell of the Sensuous, American author David Abrams describes how he saw women make rice offerings in Indonesia, given “to the spirits” but subsequently carried off by ants. Then he tells us that the ants never came into the open houses, and wonders if this traditional practice of offerings to spirits is also a mystery of relating to the insect world. Is his experience in Indonesia and his interpretation of what he saw, based on rationalization, or does it mask a deeper truth, about how humans must interact with the other orders of life to live within the land?
Of course Europeans or Americans just spray chemicals…then we wonder why there are plagues of insects upon us. How does this relate to Irish and Celtic faery tradition? Well, the faery realm is the realm of exchange. As I have heard it aptly described, it is the realm of compost. It is where we give back, share, and exchange. Indeed, this simple but far-reaching truth is found in the faery and land- spirit traditions worldwide. The Indonesian with her rice grains, the woman of Connemara with her sweet baked cakes. They are at one in this fine knowledge: give back, share, and come into harmony with your own land.
On the subject of compost, do you remember the story of the man from county Clare who went into a faery hill, and tricked the occupants out of their pot of gold? When he got home, it was full of leaves and earth. Compost is the gold of the faery realm…but we do not value it sufficiently. So our surface world is dying of chemical toxicity, while the vast riches of our faery cousins are just beneath our feet…. the vast healing riches that we have rejected in pursuit of domination and greed.
posted by Community Threads @ 9:12 AM
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