In Irish ancestral tradition, the tribal chieftain’s rule was legitimized only when he had wed the Goddess of Sovereignty, who could disapprove of and reject his rule should he forget to exhibit hospitality and justice in all he did.  She displayed her rejection through famine, drought, storms, and rapine- withdrawing her protection, leaving the people open to predatory attacks by other clans.  Sovereignty, through famine drought, and storm, was and is the Land Herself, and the institution of the Sacred Marriage of Sovereignty Queen and Tribal Chieftain, who represented the tribe collectively, created a sacred bond between the people and the land.

Sovereignty means to rule, and surely the land rules our lives completely, and we are not in charge.  The land is our home, is our mother as place of birth and one who provides sustenance and nourishment, and we are Her children, along with all our relations with whom we live in our homeland.  She is ruler and provider, great queen.  She gives Her blessings freely and seemingly inexhaustibly to all, yet we must also be mindful of our harvests and uses so as to not deplete or pollute her stores, as they support the lives of all our relations.  In this, She teaches us both the hospitality of freely giving, and taking care of others, and the justice of ensuring a healthy, sufficient supply for all beings.

To be in right relationship with Sovereignty, with the Land then, is to practice Her hospitality and justice, just as our ancestral chieftains were obliged to, as our ancestral tribespeople had done, and as this relationship undergirds the maintenance of all life, it is therefore the most vital and sacred relationship a people can have- their relationship with the Land.  Our Sovereignty queens support us all and require our allegiance and cooperation to be able to continue doing so, for all beings, through all time.  This relationship is a sacred responsibility, and one each of us can incorporate into our lives and seek to build on through all of our days.

This is an ancestral relationship which desperately needs to be revived for our people in our world today.  We have forgotten our responsibilities, and it is time to remember.

Long live the Queen.



Ancestors in the modern western world are thought of as those persons who contributed to our genetic make-up, from whom we descend, in a linear fashion.  In many tribal cultures though, the idea is expanded to include other-than-human persons, as well as human persons, for so many of them truly contribute to creating who we are today.  Further, the concept of ancestors begins with one’s parents, so includes the living as well as the dearly departed.  Ancestors means family, and so the concept of relations.  Gaelic folk tradition embraces this expansion by noting in the lore of some families and clans that they descend in part from faeries, selkies, or gods who are equated with various Powers of the living world.  In Druidry, Ancestors of Spirit are also acknowledged and honored, those from whose spiritual tradition we spiritually descend, whose teachings we study and live by.  The ancestors and relations are many, and hence are the sources of blessings.

Contemplating all the persons and Powers which contribute to my being, I count among my Relations all my ancestors of blood family lineage; my ancestors of spirit within Druidic and Brigidine Flametending traditions, including Brìde Herself, as my spiritual foster-mother; the land of Cascadia who nourishes and sustains me, where I was born and live; Grian the Sun, whose light makes my very life possible; the Queen of the Night, the Moon, whose light and power guide my womanly tides; the Plant, Tree, Animal, Bird, and Fish Persons who nourish and sustain me daily with their lives; the Wind and Water Persons who nourish and sing to me; the Tree Persons who teach me their songs; the Herb Persons who feed and heal me with their medicines; and the Green Fire and the Oran Mór which nourish and feed my soul and spirit, every moment of every day and night.

Blessings of health, protection, and wisdom flow from the Ancestors, and for these I am deeply grateful.  Belonging also flows from the Ancestors and Relations– we are family, we are connected, we live amongst each other, mindful of each other, supporting and caring for each other, providing context for each other. They are my home, they are my companions, they are my guides, they are my teachers, they are my Makers of Song.  Moran taing, agus slàinte mhath.


As druids today are inspired by druids of the past in their contemporary druidic practices, the primary focus of druidic study centers on esoteric and metaphysical concepts and engagements, since historical druids functioned variously as priests, poets, and seers.  As a part of Celtic tribal society, their role was not the role of either the farmer or the warrior, but those roles were vital to the communities of which they were part.  The druidic rites helped bless the planting and the reaping, the hunting and the fishing, and the maintenance of sacred relationships with land and sea, cattle and deer.

These sacred relationships were the foundation of the ancestral Celtic way of life, and were maintained both through sacred rites, and practical livingways.  While prayers were said and offerings were made, wild spaces were respected, animal hunts and plant gatherings were designed to not deplete their supplies, cattle were grazed in rotating fields, and crops were similarly raised in rotating fields, to allow the land to recover between uses.  Fields enriched by cattle dung were used next for planting, and where communities lived near the sea, seaweed was gathered annually to replenish the growing fields.  Communities didn’t grow beyond the land’s capacity to support itself, and technologies were internally implemented in ways which supported the land and people.  All of this was evident up through modern times in Highland Scotland at the turn of the 20th century.

While prayers, rites, and offering speak one language to the Powers, which accords Them great honor and offers them thanks, thoughtful practical lifestyles speak another language, which not only express honor, but respect, recognizing the agency and sovereignty of Land, Sea, and Sky, and their myriad beings, by engaging with Them in mutually-beneficial ways which supported the well-being of all involved parties, and also protected the very life-support systems upon which all beings depended.  When a people lived in such a way, their prayers, rites, and offerings were consistent with their livelihood.

But what of druidic practice today?  While we continue with prayers, rites, offerings, meditations, and magic, our modern western lifestyles no longer convey our respect to the Powers, demonstrate that we honor their agency and sovereignty, that we are thankful for Their blessings, or that we consciously strive to live in mutually-beneficial harmony and balance with Them.  Our lifestyles instead convey that They are objects to be used at our pleasure, heedless of depletion, suffering, and abuse, that we do not value Their agency and sovereignty or Their freedom to live according to Their own needs and purposes.  If this is what our lifestyles and livelihoods convey, how effective then can we really expect our prayers, rites, and offerings to be?  And how genuine and meaningful can our relationships with Them really be?  Truly, how much can we honestly expect Then to be moved to continue offering us Their blessings when we are so thoughtless and ungrateful?  It is not only our rites which must reciprocate blessings and respect, but our daily and ongoing livelihoods.  We are trapped in a dualistic way of thinking which erroneously teaches that so long as our intent and prayers are pure, we shall be blessed, and our practical livelihoods are therefore of no consequence.  This is not how our ancestors lived, though.  This dualism is a modern invention, and it is dangerous in how it allows us to desecrate the life-support systems relied upon by all beings and the feel we may be absolved of responsibility if we just offer up the right gifts to the gods.

Shouldn’t our livelihoods and spiritual practices align with and support each other, affirming the same values?

Towards this end, I suggest Permaculture.  While druids were not farmers in the past, our world of western development and values today requires us to each contribute to the necessary healing these things have harmed, which means working to recover some degree, indeed any degree of our livelihoods, so that we may return them to ways of integrity.  Cartesian duality has disrupted and polluted our relationships with the Land and its beings, and our priorities in livelihood.  Permaculture is a system of growing and raising food which works interdependently with all incorporated parties, including lay of the land, exposure to sun, soil nutrients, crops grown, and animals raised, so that all elements feed and support each other in a complete system which eventually comes to be largely self-supporting.  These same ideas can be applied to community-building with people as well.  Permaculture is called a design science, but unlike other forms of modern science, it is grounded in a set of ethics which undergird all it expresses, which are Care for the Land, Care for the People, and Return surplus gains to the Land and People for their ongoing support.  These values are clearly consistent with modern druidic values often espoused today!  Permaculture can express itself in different ways in different places with different circumstances and needs; there is no system to be locked into, but a creative process offering many creative options and opportunities to meet as many needs as possible.  Druids have long valued creativity and the creative process.  Challenges and problems are revisioned to become solutions.  All beings are cared for, and life-support systems are respected and protected.  Whole towns and communities could be revisioned and lived through a Permaculture lens, yet so might neighborhoods and streets employing its various techniques.  In fact, Permaculture founder Bill Mollison extolled his students to begin right outside their back door, improving relations, functions, and benefits one step at a time, in ever-growing circles around one’s center.  Proceeding in this way, through these values, and its many practical techniques, we could change our livelihoods individually and communally so that they once again reflect the same values our druidic spirituality imparts.

In addition to the three permaculture ethics, there are twelve principles by which the permaculture process is practiced, which each offer their own lessons can be appreciated and applied in ways which extend beyond gardening, into really whole life design.  Permaculture co-founder David Holmgren is credited with authoring these Principles.  You can read a list and brief description of them here:  To read Holmgren’s more in-depth exploration of the Ethics and Principles, check out this link, which visually displays them in a flower mandala of symbols of each:

So, what would it mean to realign our daily livelihoods with our druidic values and rites?  How would this improve our relationships with the Powers and the many beings with whom we share our lands?  How would this improve our druidry?  How would this improve our lifestyles?  How would this impact our future generations?

I want to express gratitude to both Bill Mollison and David Holmgren for crafting Permaculture and bringing to the world; to the indigenous peoples and their wisdoms which largely influenced these men and who still remain today as viable guides to holistic and honorable livelihoods and lifestyles; and to our ancestors and their wisdoms which remain today recorded in historical and cultural studies- may we hear their voices and be open to their guidance.  Moran taing, agus slàinte mhath.

The Green Fire and the Oran Mór

The two forces of vital life energy I am connecting with currently can be described as the Green Fire and the Oran Mór.

The Green Fire is the vital flame of life which animates all beings of land, sea, and sky.  It burns brightly beneath the breast of the land goddess, feeding and supporting life in its eternal burning.  It could be seen as a metaphor for the fiery core at the center of our planet.  I connect with it consciously during each of my offices, visualizing its form, and sensing its energy rise up from the land, through my legs, and into my being, like sap made of light, feeding and nourishing me and all life.  Its abode is the Otherworld, home to the fae folk, some of whom work to support the Green Fire.  From the Otherworld, its light and heat and vitality shines into and warms our own, endowing all life with many blessings.

The Green Fire makes up a part of the Oran Mór, which translates from the Gaidhlig as the Great Song.  The Irish hero Fionn mac Cumhal asked his warriors of the Fenian fighters once what their favorite music was.  Some replied the calling of the wolf, others the lowing of the cattle, still others the sing-song of the river in summer.  Fionn replied, when asked by his men in turn, “the music of what happens.”  This is how I engage with the Oran Mór, as the music of what is happening in the moment in which I am tuning into it.  It is the essence of all beings around me being and living and creating and developing, each contributing their notes to the Great Song being composed and sung collectively, moment by moment.  While tuning in to the Green Fire, I also tune in to the Oran Mór, feeling the Fire burning beneath, and rising up through me, and the Oran Mór thrumming and swirling all about me, knowing that I too am adding my own note to this Great Song, through my expression of my dán, my destiny lived out.  As we are each contributing our own notes in each moment, the Oran Mór is a song of constant cosmic creation, in waves of creativity, as each being in the world contributes to its ongoing generation.

Imbas, Inspiration

In Druidry, there is a reverence for, and a special attention put on Inspiration, called Imbas in the Irish and Awen in the Welsh.  All Imbas is seen as divine, gifted from the gods, one of whom may serve as a particular muse.  It can come as a lightening flash, a gentle realization, or a deep knowing.  Within those moments we are open to knowledge, wisdom, and profound guidance.  Such moments then shape our actions, our decisions, our creations. Through our creations, we then participate in the ongoing creation of the world, bringing new things to form, as all living persons do.  The soul and the gods unite, and production, or reproduction occurs, birthing new beings, ideas, forms, behaviors, or lifeways.  It is the vital dance of life which perpetuates itself through myriad lenses and processes.

Seeing that all living persons, human and otherwise, participate in this ongoing creation opens up the idea that human persons may not be the only persons who receive and respond to Imbas.  When trees unfurl their leaves, gathering light, are they inspired?  It is typical to call this instinct, if even to assign such an animalistic term to plant life is considered proper, as though it were unthinking or unconsidered behavior.  Animals are said to respond to instinct when building dens or nests, flying or hunting, mating or rearing young.  How does this look instead if considered Imbas, inspiration?  Plants and animals alike feel and respond to natural rhythms, as we humans do– spring is universally said to be the season of mating for us all.  One might say something about spring inspires us all.  As Daghda strums his harp, changing the seasons with the changing light on the land, we might say His song, Grian’s (Sun goddess) light, and Flaithas’ (Sovereignty, Land goddess) turning inspire all earthly beings.  The gods make their songs, and we in turn are inspired to make our own.  Tree songs are evident in leaves and flowers, animal songs in mating calls and dances, human songs in poetry and seduction.

Consider rising sap as an inspired song, animal nations caring for their own as inspired action, photosynthesis as the poetry of the plant nations.  Animal and plant behaviors can in turn inspire us, to be busy as a beaver, relaxed as a vegetable, strong as the oak.  Humans can in turn inspire plant and animal behaviors, from gentling a wild kitten to breeding and crafting domesticated corn from a wild plant.  We all interact, we build relationships, receive inspiration from each other, and join in the ongoing creation of our shared world.

Consider sunlight as Imbas, inspiring green life to rise from the land, animals to roam and seek sustenance, and humans to mow lawns and swim rivers.  Consider moonlight as Imbas, inspiring the tides of the sea to rise and reach in greeting.  Consider the tides as Imbas which inspire fish to surface in regular rhythms. Sun, Moon, Land, and Sea all responding to inspiration, and in turn inspiring all beings who open themselves to receive inspiration.

Consider stars inspired to forge heat and light in their cores, growing to vast shapes, exploding from their own force, and creating fields in which new stars and planets are birthed, or collapsing into themselves to create living pulsars singing their own songs, or living black holes, eating light.

All beings are living persons, receiving inspiration from one another, and offering it amongst each other, in unending turns.  Perhaps this is a fundamental aspect of belonging and participation in one’s community of living persons- to receive and offer inspiration, mutually and interdependently.  Our relations are then those who inspire us, and those in turn whom we inspire.  Shared Imbas binds us in place and time, defining our relationship.

Updating, and my Daily Office

As my explorations of druidry have lead me from a start in British-style druidry to a current immersion in contemplative and monastic druidry. I have updated Turas’ About and Imbas sections to reflect these developments.  You are welcome to visit and read them, and are of course invited to continue following along.

What I like about contemplative prayer and practice is its centering quality, its quiet reflection, mystic communion, and deep relationship-building capacity.  What I like about a monastic praxis is the space and rhythm its shape and form provide for regular moments of contemplation which are built into the daily round, allowing one to return regularly to the nourishing Source.  My soul craves this spiritual renewal, and this rhythm carries me effortlessly from one sip from the spring to the next.

The Daily Office of prayers I have been developing follow the course of the sun, like a sunflower.  In the morning I face east to welcome the Sun with a Gaelic chant to Grian, and begin my Druidic Celtic Cross, my daily office, which is based on the Seven-Part Creation of Man, found in a medieval Irish manuscript, in which seven elements comprise the form of humanity, which reads thus:

“There is this to be known concerning the creation of Adam from seven parts. The first part is from the earth; the second part is from the sea, the third part from the sun, the fourth part from the clouds, the fifth part from the wind, the sixth part from stones, the seventh part from the Holy Spirit. The part of earth that is the body of man. The part of sea that is the blood of a man. The part of the sun is his face and countenance; the part of cloud, his thought; the part of wind, the breath of man; the part of stones, his bones; the part of the Holy Spirit, his soul…”

While facing east in the morning I honor the Power of Stone, which gives me my bones, the bedrock of the land which supports us, the mountains to the east which shelter us, and strength and constancy which spiritually support us.  Below me I honor Cascadia, Power of Earth, which gives me my flesh and organs, gives us life and sustenance, houses the Green Fire of Life beneath Her breast, and provides Her green Mantle of healing plants to assist us.

In the afternoon I face south and honor Power of Sun which gives me my countenance and attitude to life, and my avenue of communication with all my companions; is the Heart of the Solar System which makes all life on Earth possible; and fills our spirits with Illumination.  I also honor the Power of Cloud above me, which gives me the Mists of my thoughts and inner world, and provide life-giving rains to the land for the benefit of all beings.

In the evening at sunset I face west and honor the Power of Sea which lies in that direction which gives me the blood that nourishes my body, for being the original source of earthly life, and for housing the Blessed Isles of my people’s ancestors, whom I also honor and thank for their blessings of protection and guidance, asking that they smile upon my household for another turn of the cycle of the Celtic day which begins at sunset.

At night I face north and honor the Power of Wind, the breath which animates me, the force which refreshes the air, and carries the seeds of renewing life to support all beings.  I also honor Mother Night for holding space for our dreaming time, and the healing this provides us.

Before each office I recite a centering prayer to Brìde that I may commune with the Power of Source, which gives me my heart, where my soul is held and my spirit is fed, where communion takes place, and where Imbas is heard.

I am also committing to a daily reflective writing piece for most days of the week, for which this blog will be central.

This is the rhythm which carries and sustains me.  To these Powers and my Lady Brìde I am deeply grateful, for their perennial blessings of presence and guidance.  Moran taing agus slainte mhath.

Brighid, My Anam Chara

As a mother-priestess of a Brighidine Flametending Order, Nigheanan Brighde, I have a deep and close relationship with the Celtic goddess Brighid.  I am also a member of a devotional community to Her called Clann Bhride.  A new blog post by one of its founders asked how we each relate with our Lady, and on reflection, I sensed that my relationship with Her differed somewhat from that of the other devotional polytheists’ relationships I’ve read about, which seem to primarily focus on worship of Her, ascertaining Her desires, and seeking to learn and do Her work in the world.  In my own relationship with Her, I don’t feel compelled to make Her an object in that fashion.  She has come to me offering me Her help– if I seek to heal, She will help; if I seek to remember ancestral ways, She will help; if I seek to write, She will help; if I seek to forge sacred relationships, She will help.  As my spirit seeks centering and my soul seeks connection, She leads the way; She helps. Through communion with Her, she guides me to the Center, that I may connect with the Source there, and holds the space in which I might do so, yet She Herself is not that Source.  She, like myself and all living beings, emanates from that Source.

I most relate with Brìde is as Guide, as She is invoked in a Scottish prayer in the Carmina Gadelica, which refers to Her as a helping woman, a constant companion, a maker of song. I pray to Her for spiritual and daily living guidance, to be my companion on my always-unfolding spiritual journey and growth, to inspire me and my expressions as my maker of song. Muse of poets comes somewhat closest to this idea, but not necessarily so literally as that, although at times that is the case. But in relating with Her as Guide and Companion, She is more akin to an anam chara, soul friend, who leads me to the center, to the edges, and into sacred relationship with everything in-between. Communing with and listening to Her helps me on this journey, but the journey isn’t all about Her, or meant to end with finding Her, or meant to be focused on Her as its main object or subject. She points the way, She holds my hand, She whispers wisdom, but the point of the journey is that which She points me towards, and the wisdom She imparts, towards living a life grounded in sacred relationships of mutual benefit and respect, expressing my unfolding destiny in ways which support all life by giving blessings, as does the bright sun of Her fire, and the nourishing spring of Her healing waters.  These I give thanks to, seek to learn from, and hope to emulate.