The Protection of Brigid - making the three-armed Brigid’s Cross.

Across the island the most widespread custom associated with Brigid on the eve of Lá Fhéile Bríde, Brigid’s Feast Day, was the making of the Cros or Bogha Bríde, Brigid’s Cross. 

Hung in the home, often above the door or hearth, in the cattle byre and in the stable, the crosses were made to honour Brigid and to protect against “fire, storm, lightning, illness and epidemic” throughout the year.

The many forms of Brigid’s Cross displayed in Kildare.

Today the four-armed cross is the most well known, woven by pagans and christians to celebrate Brigid’s Day and Imbolg. 

Brighid’s Crosses made from straw.

The three-armed cross, reminiscent of the triskele and the Legs of Manannán, is the form of cross 

I make to hang above the threshold of my studio.

The Legs of Mann created by WILLOW MANN on the Isle of Man.

For many this design represents the goddess Brigid as Brigid of Healing, Brigid of Poetry and 

Brigid of Smithcraft, as well as her associations to Fire,

Brigid's Eternal Flame - public sculpture Kildare.

Sacred Wells, 

Brigid's Well, Kildare.
Read more about my visit to Kildare HERE

And the Land.

Croghan Hill, Co. Offaly.

Legend tells that Brigid had her smithy beneath the hill.
Read more about Croghan Hill HERE

Brigid’s triple armed cross is simple and quick to make, only requiring reeds / rushes, ribbon or wool and scissors.

The Common Rush, Luachra, which grows in moist areas is commonly used to make crosses.
Rushes (also known as reeds) or straw left over from making the Brigid's Cross was thought to
have curative powers, when tied around a sore limb or head and left on overnight.
The following morning the rushes were burnt to complete the cure.

Photo: www.plants rescue.com

Gathering rushes in the Lough Field.

Firstly collect your rushes choosing the thickest you can find, preferably on Brigid’s Eve,
31st January.

Traditionally, in some areas, it was the job of the man of the house to gather the rushes, although across the island making the Brigid’s Cross was usually the domain of women and girls.

Custom dictated that the rushes should be pulled out of the earth, however many people 

today prefer to cut the reeds close to the ground, leaving the roots in tact.

If reeds or rushes are not to be found use straw, pliable willow withies or pipe cleaners. 

Crosses made from straw, rushes and willow withies.

1 Begin to make your Brigid's Cross by picking two sturdy rushes and fold one in half across the other, forming a T shape. 

2 Hold firmly at the centre so that the cross remains intact then gently bend the horizontal rush 1.

3 Fold a third rush in half & place around reed 2 so that it lies next to rush 1.

Rotate the cross, holding firmly onto the rush you have just added.

5 Take another, fold and place around rush 4. Hold this recently added rush and rotate again. 

6 By now you will have a triangle forming at the centre.

7 Continue adding rushes, always holding firmly and rotating the cross before adding the next one.

8 Your cross will look like this and you can add as many rushes as you wish.

9 When you've added enough rushes ‘lock’ the final rush in place by gently easing out the loop of the nearest rush. 

Place the ends of the new rush through this loop then push the loop back into place. 

Make sure to hold firmly using your thumb to grip the centre.

10 To finish - start with the last arm you ‘locked’ and tie the ends securely with wool, ribbon 

or a strong rushes. Finish the other two arms in the same way.

11 Cut the rushes to neaten the ends or leave natural.

You have now completed your three-armed Brigid’s Cross.

Place above the threshold of your home. 

May it bring you the blessings of Brigid 

and her protection throughout the year.

The Many Coloured Land.

Yesterday, as daylight dwindled, I was sitting by the stove re-reading AE’s book

‘The Candle of Vision’ when my mind returned to the start of this year. 

I began 2016 here with a post dedicated to George William Russell, AE. 

His writing continued to inspire me through the bleak days of winter and later led me to seek out the Many Coloured Land, places of vision and creative power within myself and the landscape of Ireland.   

To read - Æ, artist & mystic - 

“And the old enchantment lingers in the honey-heart of earth.” LINK HERE

This January was icy but as daylight slowly grew I made preparations to honour Brigid on the Eve of her festival.

The cross was woven and set above the door. 

The brát was placed on the windowsill to catch her blessing as she emerged from nearby 

Croghan Hill, to walk the land. 

To read - "Brighid returns from the Otherworld" LINK HERE

The long desired greening had began by the time I travelled to Kildare, home of her eternal flame. 

Her fire pit held evidence of ritual 

and at Brigid’s Well I felt the rising of the year.

To read - "The promised Spring arrives" LINK HERE

In hindsight I now understand that water has flowed throughout my year. 

Visits to rivers, lakes, bogs and sacred wells have inspired me and strengthened my connection to the spirits of the land. 

I see now that it really began on the shores of Lough Gur, sacred to the goddess Áine. 

To read - LOUGH GUR - “a personality loved, but also feared.”

LINK HERE

Then on morning walks to my local river I spied white blossom on dark limbs.

The blackthorn blazed like pale spirits across the country.

To read "Blackthorn, dark sister of the May" LINK HERE

Pale primroses peeped from beneath hedges and gold glinted in the fields.

Bealtaine came nearer. I welcomed summer on May Eve in the old way by decorating a May bush 

and lighting a bonfire at twilight. 

To read - "The May bush ribbons dance as the Fairy Host pass by" LINK HERE

As the land brought forth her flowers and the sun stretched the evenings

I felt a strong pull towards water, the west and Irelands’ many sacred wells. 

To read - "Sacred water and three thousand Holy Wells" LINK HERE

To read - "By Stone, Whitethorn and Well" LINK HERE

One well in particular, Rathin Well in Co. Clare, was to connect me to a deep sorrow still felt
by many communities.

To read - "In silent need they searched for Holy ground" LINK HERE

The year turned towards harvest but water still drew me to loughs 

To read - "Lughnasa, loughs and a last salute to Summer." LINK HERE

and the dark bog spirits of the Midlands.

To read - "Dark Spirits of the Bog" LINK HERE

There were places where the Otherworld felt close

To read - "The Burren: Land of the Fertile Rock" LINK HERE

and a morning when I stepped into The Silence.

To read - "Otherworld Shenanigans: The Silence" LINK HERE

Throughout this years’ adventures The Cailleach, the Old Woman, has been close by.

She has threaded her way through images.

To read - "The Cailleach - Hag of the Mill & Mother of the Herd" LINK HERE

And words. 

To read - "A Samhain Story - The Lament of the Old Woman" LINK HERE

As I prepare to celebrate the birth of a new year she whispers in my ear -

“ There is more, much more yet to come. You have merely glimpsed the Many Coloured Land.” 

Outside The Cailleach traces frost upon the leaves but I know she has already planted 

the seeds of next years’ adventures.

Many thanks to you all for reading, following and commenting on this blog. 

May your New Year be filled with good food, good health & good company!

A Synchronicity of Ravens.

'The Fallen Castle' was inspired by a visit many years ago to Rattin Castle, Co. Westmeath. 

At the time I felt it would make an interesting painting, a symbol of a powerful elite that once held the land, now in decay. 

Rattin takes its’ name from Rath Aitinne meaning ‘Rath of the furze’. 

A rath or earthwork lies to the west of the castle. 

The area around the Rattin Castle is believed to have been inhabited possibly from as early as 

4000-2500 BCE and the building stands about 30 metres high, on raised ground like an island surrounded by marshland.

The castle itself dates to the 15th century and was constructed to defend part of the extensive 

Anglo-Norman territories of the midlands. Built on land owned by Hugh de Lacy, it later passed into the hands of Sir John D’Arcy and his family and was taken by Cromwell’s army in the 1640’s.

This was all I knew of Rattin but as I began to paint I was convinced that ravens and crows had to feature, though I had no idea why.

Finally the painting was finished, complete with corvids. 

It wasn’t until much later that I was alerted by a friend to the local folklore concerning Rattin Castle.

Reading this I felt that familiar ‘tingle’ of something awakening.

Over the years there have been many of these ‘meaningful coincidences’ which, when I paid attention, led me to make changes, deepen my knowledge or discover more connections which I could use in my artwork or my own spiritual practices.

This concept, termed Synchronicity by Carl Jung, is explained as: 

“ The experience of two or more events which occur in a meaningful manner, 

but which are causally unrelated. 

In order to be synchronous, the events must be related to one another conceptually, 

and the chance that they would occur together by random chance must be very small. ”

Perhaps the raven of the painting and the folklore of Rattin was a small example of synchronicity?

***

Two weeks later whilst driving I decided to turn off the familiar main road to explore a new landscape. 

The small road ran up Spa Hill and parking at the top I sat watching 

crows wheeling high above the land. 

Back behind the wheel, driving down the twisty way into a valley, my mind wandered. 

I pondered the nature of synchronicity, where did it come from and why did it happen? 

Did other people pay attention to it too? 

I turned around a sharp bend in the road  

where I was confronted by another raven.

The Raven sculpture by Saturio Alonso with airborne crow.

I had come unknowingly to the small village of Lisdowney, Lios Dúin Fhiaich, The Fort of the Raven or 

of Fiach, a local chieftain. 

The monument celebrates the history of the village with information about neighbouring settlements, so I stopped to read the notice board.

At that moment I felt the sense of excitement that unexpected happenings bring and my attention was caught by a picture of the ruined Balleen Castle, nearby. 

Balleen Castle.

The tale of the castle, handed down through generations, is that the builders were nearing completion when a raven flew over their heads and told them that the Lord of Balleen had become a ruined man. Seeing they would not be paid, the men left immediately and the story goes that Balleen Castle was never finished. 

So another raven, another castle and on the map a place named Clontubrid, ‘meadow of Brigid’s well’.

The map showed a holy well close to the church so I felt this deserved a detour. 

On arrival of course I expected to find Brigid’s Well there.

I discovered that it was St. Fiachra’s Well.

St. Fiachra? The figure, wearing a long tunic, has a "smoothly rounded head 

with large almond-shaped eyes and a pointed chin."

Fiachra, a personal name which originated in pre-Christian Ireland, is thought to be derived from 

the word fiach meaning "raven". 

The small house over the well is very old and may have originally been part 

of the cell of St. Fiachra, a hermit, whose festival was celebrated there on 8th February, 

the old date for Imbolg.

It seemed that the ravens were sending a message which by now I was hearing loud and clear, so as the evening light was fading I turned towards home.

I am still reflecting on that day and view these events as a synchronicity of ravens telling me to pay attention,
bringing me a message.

But where do they come from? 

Are they messages from our unconscious mind or from the inter-connected universe? 

Are they chance encounters with another realm or merely inexplicable coincidences?