July 2024
This feed provides some excerpts of my creative work for my community in July 2024.
The Sea Maiden: A Selkie Tale
A Chairde, Friends,
I open today’s Imbas Dispatch with three questions:
Where is my sealskin?
Where is my fishscale cloak?
Where is my red-feathered hood?
These questions are inspired by three shapeshifters in Gaelic folklore and other island traditions beyond these shores. They belong to the selkie (sealwoman or sealman), the maighdean mara (sea maiden or mermaid), and the murúch (merrow, mermaid, or merman), and to each of you who yearn to reclaim your soulskin, even when it's one scale at a time.
‘... to be without the pelt [sealskin] causes a woman to pursue what she thinks she should do, rather than what she truly wishes… in a world that values driven women who go, go, go, the stealing of soulskins is very easy.’
Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves
Art inspired by the Kópakonan (Seal Woman) sculpture in the Faroe Islands. Designed to withstand 13-metre waves
How many of us have voyaged out to sea with no oars, no sails, only the tale of a shapeshifting sea maiden in our hearts, in search of the dán, the soul gift she has to offer us? A gift we have no words for, and yet we know it will come with a sacrifice—a holy one we’re willing to make.
Many of you reading these words will understand how this folktale has featured in my work over the years, central to my creative mentoring. I also offer a self-paced course, Rescuing Your Sealskin. This story keeps cycling back, and my own retellings keep changing, never static like the seawaters from which these shapeshifters emerge.
Today, I share an audio retelling inspired by the folktale of Thady Rua O’Dowd from Co. Sligo in the west of Ireland, a local chieftain who stole a sea maiden’s fishscale cloak and held her captive in his world. With the help of her youngest child, the mermaid retrieves her mantle and, with her magical wand, transforms each of her seven children into stone before plunging herself into the Atlantic Ocean. These seven stones, ‘The Children of the Mermaid,’ can be found close to the shore in Enniscrone, Co. Sligo.
2. Soul Handprint
‘Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.’
Kurt Vonnegut, A Man Without a Country
Creative Souls,
Today, you will create something that I hope will bring you an enormous reward. This ritual honours our creativity through the symbol of our hands. Our hands are extensions of our hearts, and our hearts are the compass of our souls. Like our souls, our handprints are utterly unique. Engaging in creativity helps us truly know ourselves and understand the unique imprint we are here to leave on the world.
Photo from Cueva de las Manos, the Cave of Hands in Argentina, featuring stunning rock art, including these remarkable hand stencils. This ancient cave art dates back to between 13,000 and 9,500 years
In mythology, fairytales and folklore, we often see hands used to illustrate the soul’s journey. In Irish mythology, Nuada Airgeadlámh (Nuada of the Silver Hand), king of the Tuatha Dé Danann, loses his hand in battle and is fashioned a silver hand by the god of healing, Dian Cécht. Then, through the healing incantation of Dian Cécht’s son, Míach, a new fleshy hand regrows from the roots of the severed arm, enabling Nuada to regenerate his kingship as an evermore discerning king. In the tale of the Handless Maiden, the maiden’s hands are chopped off because of her foolish father’s bargain with the devil. She too receives silver hands but ultimately must grow her flesh, blood, and bone hands back, ones that truly belong to her, separate from her father’s house.
Photo from Cueva de las Manos, the Cave of Hands in Argentina, featuring stunning rock art, including these remarkable hand stencils. This ancient cave art dates back to between 13,000 and 9,500 years
3. Amergin the Poet-Seer
A Chairde,
As the season of Bealtaine comes to a close and we will soon embrace the harvest of Lughnasa, I feel called to link back to our Creative Ancestor Profile for Ériu, Banba and Fódhla, and invite in more about the file, the ‘poet-seer’ Amergin, our mortal ancestor who negotiated with the triple goddess so that we could flourish on this land.
Poet Leader
Amergin (“Am-ar-ghin” or “Av-ar-ghin” in Old Irish) with variations of his name like Amhairghin, means ‘the wonderfully conceived’, perhaps a reflection of his poetic talents. The 11th-century manuscript, Lebor Gabála Érenn, which means ‘The Book of the Taking of Ireland’ in English, tells us that Ireland was inhabited by six races. The last group, known as the Milesians or later as the Gaels, were mortals from whom we are said to descend. And so, our first ancestors to arrive were not led by an invading warrior or king, but by the poet-seer Amergin—an artist, essentially. When they arrived on these shores, the island was inhabited by gods, the Tuatha Dé Danann.
Excerpt from Lebor Gabála Érenn in a manuscript called The Book of Leinster/Lebar na Núacongbála. This was assembled c.1152 and finished in 1161 by four different hands
4. Devoting to Your Destiny
A Chairde,
I open my writing to you today with a reminder for those whose soul strings are vibrating with possibility: there are still a few days left to apply for Aisling Áes Dána—Dreaming Your Dán with the Otherworld. This women’s creative retreat will take place in the sacred Boyne Valley this autumn, hosted by myself and the wondrous Aoife Lowden.
Aoife and I at the beginning of May on the Hill of Uisneach, welcoming in the season of Bealtaine with Goddess Ériu who gifted Ireland her name at Bealtaine-time thousands of years ago.
A Gift from the Universe, A Gift Given Back to the Universe
The Old Irish word, Dán can signify poetic endowment, artistic skill, a calling, destiny, or fate—a soul’s unique gift. What I find most fascinating about our dán is that it is described both as a gift bestowed upon us by the gods and as a gift that we offer back to the gods. It’s a reciprocal soul exchange. To use contemporary language, our soul is endowed with a calling by the Universe, and when we live into this calling, we give back to the Universe.
And so, we have a responsibility to answer this call even amidst the squall of modern life. For our ancestors, this was about co-creation, about working harmoniously with the gods. If you recall, I shared in the myth of Fedelm the Prophetess, how no one was permitted to enter the royal capital of the Tuatha Dé Danann at Tara unless they were devoted to their dán. When the god Lugh arrives at the kingdom, the gatekeeper says,
“What art do you practice? For no one without an art enters Tara.”
Unlock Your Creativity: Join an Inspiring Global Community of 2,000+ Visionaries!
