An Experience with Brigid
By Ivy Mulligan
This journey involves getting in touch with the Celtic Goddess, Brigid, on Her holy day – Imbolc – which is most often considered to be 2 February. This month’s full moon is for me named the Storm Moon, and the energies I feel emerge are those of renewal, cleansing and purification.
As the blue mist clears I get my bearings and look around to try to discern my location in the Otherworld. It is always the same on my journeys here. I pick the destination that I need to reach. However, the veil can be tricky and may lead me through a labyrinth before I truly find the Place of Being. My soul seeks wisdom -is the journey the destination?
“Yes” I whisper to myself. Learning and being are, after all, the job of a shaman, so be happy at the quirky twists the otherworld throws at you, I think. “Yes”, I breathe “I must have patience.”
I smile to myself as I begin to recognize the terrain coming into view – that crystalline view that only the Otherworld can provide. I notice that the moon is full, its white, creamy light bathing everything in a soft, milky glow. I see the landscape is rolling hills, mostly meadowlands with a few sparse trees dotted around. One of the lazy slopes rises at my feet forcing my eyes upward to scan the horizon at the top.
I see a small, cylinder-shaped structure at the crest of the hill and I immediately know that it is my destination. I keep my vision firmly fixed on my target remembering that at times in this place to lose your focus is to be whisked elsewhere, as wandering thoughts can prove to be a sudden and unexpected sort of transportation in the Otherworld. However, I know my feet will effortlessly climb this grassy knoll so I remain calm and focus on the small structure on the hill’s summit.
As I reach the top I see clearly that this edifice is an ancient stone well. The stones that form its structure are large and smooth, covered with moss, and chinked in place without mortar or space between them. I slowly circle the well in a clockwise direction, softly dragging my fingers along the cool, rocky rim. Closing my eyes briefly I take a deep, long breath through my nose inhaling that moist, dark smell that only pristine water can emanate. I realise my being is filled with a deep, resonant peace, the kind that comes with total connection to yourself and everything that surrounds you – a feeling of total centered-ness. I am aware there is a peaceful smile playing on my face, and as my eyes flutter slowly open, I also
realise that I am no longer alone.
The first thing to fill my vision is a pair of emerald green eyes, shimmering with a liquid light so beautiful I find myself holding the breath I was slowly letting escape from my lips. I also see that these gem stone orbs contain not one, but three shades of green, making a triple-banded iris. I realise that those kinds of eyes only come from those born of the Sidhe. I force myself to move my attention further outward, away from her eyes, trying to take in other features of the being standing across the well from me and, at the same time, I notice that I need to call more air into my waiting lungs. The vivid green gems are set in a flawlessly smooth, oval shaped face that reminds me at once of alabaster. Her nose is straight and perfect and she has small bow-shaped rose-petal lips placed sensuously at its base. A light wind gently blows some loose strands of hair across her delicate features and I realize the colour of that hair is very close to that of spun garnets. The rest of her heavy mane is tied back in various plaited strands and she has many ornate silver accessories woven into some of the braids. Her neck is decorated with a stunningly elaborate, yet dainty, torc, and her clothing of green velvet and silk is piped with many knots and intricate silver threads. Although her feet are hidden by the well, I feel she has no shoes on but I am not at all surprised by this. I allow my gaze to travel back to her face and I am startled by a sound reminiscent of tinkling bells and crackling fire. I become aware that there are words floating among the sounds and I understand it is the voice of this Otherworld being speaking to me.
“You have arrived at one of my wells on this, my day of Imbolc. What is it that you have come to obtain – healing for your body, nurture for your soul, or perhaps, inspiration for your spirit?”
I answer before I am aware of my own thoughts: “I come for the inspiration of my ancient ancestors and, with your divine Awen flowing through my being; I will have the capacity to create, for myself and my kin, health, happiness and peace.”
The Goddess allows a slight smile to play along her lips and reaches for the rope that holds a bucket suspended above the well’s rim. Slowly, but with purpose, Brighid lowers the bucket into the deep waters, never taking her gaze from my face. After what seems like an eternity I hear a faint gurgling splash, then, without my ever sensing the change in direction, the Goddess draws the bucket back up until it arrives back in its former place at the well’s rim.
“I grant you this gift of Awen. Take and drink deeply from the Earth’s deepest springs for in this life-giving water is the source of all life’s beginnings and the power that sustains all life in this world. The power of water is the power of emotion, the twin sister to the power of fire which is the power of desire. For Awen to flow you must first feel the inspiration and then allow the action that comes from passion to move you along with it. Metal cannot be forged until it has first become liquid.”
I am awed at her words and again realise her voice is a mixture of sounds. There is a tinkling that sounds like water in a brook, and a hissing sound that reminds me of steam rising from water dropped on hot coals. She gracefully scoops a silver ladleful of water from the mouth of the bucket. I cautiously take her offering with both hands and then, with sudden abandonment, drink deeply from the ladle.
A flowing coolness sweeps through my entire being and my awareness becomes cloudy. I feel as if I am swooning and, trying to steady myself, I grasp the well’s ledge and direct my gaze into the depths of its dark, deep interior. A flurry of images pass quickly over the water’s inky surface, but they flash past so fast I cannot seem to focus on any particular one. My feeling of spinning is stronger now and when I try to look back up into the face of Brighid I see that her green jewel eyes are disappearing in that blue mist that comes between the worlds. I try to call out to Her, to give her my thanks for this journey, but my vision and breath are whisked away in the twirling shift that happens as I pass through the veil from this world into others and back again.
I slowly awake and take in the solid forms of my dwelling and my furnishings, awed and amazed at the blessings from the Goddess, and the profundity of the ability to walk in both worlds. It is a blessing to bring forth the uniting energies that make up a balanced life as we humans know it. To wed water with fire and desire with passion in order to obtain the ever elusive Awen that fuels a Bard’s soul can seem so simple a task. With renewed vigour and determination I spring to my feet to face the day with my new-found wisdom. I pause only for a moment, startled and amazed, as an ornately carved silver ladle falls from my lap and clangs merrily to the hardwood floor.