An Creideamh Sí:
The Celtic Faery Faith
Throughout this book we’ll be looking at what is commonly termed “Celtic” magical and spiritual lore. When we discuss the Celts, we are really using an umbrella term for a group of Iron Age tribes around northern and western Europe and the Atlantic fringe, and later into the modern period, a group of Celtic speaking nations with widely different heritages despite shared cultural roots that stem from a common group of languages and beliefs. There are differences between these nations that are important to recognise and honour. Ideas of the otherworld and the spirit realm vary across time and geography, as does the location of the spirit realm and any cosmological systems accompanying it, even as the common threads of belief may be traced within them. However, those common threads are substantial and have endured. Where there is difference, there is also cohesion; where there is unity, there is also uniqueness between each country and throughout the eras and time spans discussed. I aim to acknowledge both.
One of the earliest records of the Celts’ views of the gods come from the accounts of the writer Diodorus Siculus of the war leader Brennus on a visit to the Greek sanctuary at Delphi in the first century BCE:
Brennus, the king of the Gauls, on entering a temple found no dedications of gold or silver, and when he came only upon images of stone and wood he laughed at them, to think that men, believing that gods have human form, should set up their images in wood and stone.1
At least at this early stage before the Roman Conquest, it seems the Celts believed that the gods did not take human forms but were instead considered present and immanent in the world around them without the need for anthropomorphism. There was no reason to constrain any understanding of them by limiting them with human bodies and human ways. While this perspective undoubtedly changed over time—indeed, Celtic art of later periods abound with humanlike depictions of the gods—the initial principle remained; the gods are everywhere in nature and are the natural forces themselves. The human world is part of an infinite whole, but it is neither its centre nor its periphery. The gods are part of nature, in a vast multiplicity of being, far beyond our comprehension. They are wild things, and we with them.
The same conceptualization can be seen in the Celtic ideas about death, that each soul would travel to the otherworld but that death was part of an endless cycle of life impossible to separate from and thus not the final end or to be feared, but understood to be integral to our very being. Trust in the greater cycle of life was a guiding principle of the Celts, and according to the Romans, played a huge part in the famed Celtic bravery and individualism.
And you, ye druids … Your teaching is that the shades of the dead do not make their way to the silent abode of Erebus or the lightless realm of Dis below, but that the same soul animates the limbs in another sphere. If you sing of certainties, death is the centre of continuous life … happy in their error, for they are not harassed by the greatest of terrors, the fear of death. This gives the warrior his eagerness to rush upon the/steel, a spirit ready to face death, and an indifference to save a life which will return.2
Just as wild nature, we all live, we all die, and life continues.
Discussing the wild with regard to the Celts, it’s important to note that these were highly civilised people who traded widely; they were magnificent craftsmen, scholars, and philosophers as well as warriors and mysterious, mystical druids. While they had no written language of their own, they traded and travelled widely, many were proficient in several languages, and they had a rich culture of storytelling and advanced spiritual thought, as well as mathematics and astronomical observation—as attested to in the magnificent Coligny calendar. They had a culture equal in sophistication to the Greeks who wrote of them and the Romans who eventually conquered them. However, they also had a love of the land—an awe at the power of nature that placed the honouring of the wild at the centre of their awareness. Animals and sacred trees held special importance in their local communities, which continued under Roman rule, and is a practice which continues to this day, in a multitude of forms. The wild and the sophisticated are not sperate in Celtic culture; one springs from the other like blossoms upon a tree.
In the later Christian period, the Celtic belief in spirits and even the old gods remained, changed and adapted by a phenomenon called syncretism—people found a way to be Christian and even attend church while holding the beliefs in the old ways simultaneously. The Creideamh Sí (Irish) or the faery faith continued well into the modern era and is still found in various forms across Ireland and Scotland. In a development somewhat unique to Celtic lands, the old ways and old gods transposed into a Christian worldview; [Christian scholars of the time] wrote in the belief that the old gods were merely fallen angels expelled from heaven but not bad enough for hell, and thus became the faerie folk. As such, practices honouring them and working with them were not considered evil or taboo.3 Records from the Scottish witch trials attest that those who worked with the faeries were usually considered good people, cunning men or women who practiced good magic, as opposed to “witches” who would be said to work with the devil.4 While such categories proved to be largely arbitrary in practice and terms like faery and demon were often used interchangeably, a belief in the unseen, that the spirits and the old gods resided still in the wild hills, continued into the modern era and survive to this day. That these beings still needed honouring and could be called upon for help, maintained a pattern of magical and spiritual practice with its roots going back perhaps thousands of years.
The cycles of the seasons and the sun and moon, which are often marked out in the alignments of British and Irish stone circles and other Neolithic monuments, also form a structure of celebration and ritual connection with the land. These observances continued through the Celtic Iron Age, into the Anglo-Saxon period, and later into the Medieval Celtic liturgical calendar of saint’s days and other events that often merged the old Pagan feast days into the new Christian faith. These seasonal celebrations were intimately connected with the agricultural yearly cycle, but also infused the practical with the spiritual; each season was seen to have its spirits and overarching deities or saints, and where once druids oversaw fire ceremonies at the cross-quarter days of Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasadh, and Samhain, now the priest led the community in ritual blessings and services at Candle Mass, Mayday, Lammas or Harvest festival, and All Hallows Eve. Where once the Goddess Brighid was asked to bless the hearths and the livestock, now it was Saint Brigit, the midwife of Christ. But the rituals, the dates of the festivals and the wisdom behind them remained. They were still, as they say in Welsh, Ysbrydnos—spirit nights.
With those spirit nights, those old practices, surviving across hundreds and perhaps thousands of years, comes a host of charms and spells, simple ritual practices and folkloric wisdom, merged and woven with a deep practical knowledge of the land and all its inhabitants. The Celtic lore of both animal and spirit forms in addition to the deep instinctual knowing of the Genius Loci (the powers of place or the old ones who give a land its identity or soul) has remained, evolved, grown, and made suitable for each new generation for each of us to come to anew. The wild continues to ignite our spirits and nourish our souls.
A “Celtic” Cosmology
To the ancient Gauls, the spirit realm was both a terrestrial location as well as a spiritual one. Found over the sea and sometimes described as residing on the island of Britain itself, the Gauls shared a common language with tribes on the southern coast of Britain. The seat and origin of their religion was described as residing in Britain, most likely on Anglesey.5 However, they also maintained a belief that there were three realms: Albios, translated roughly as the upper world, or the white or blessed world; Bitu, the land/ the world where we live; and Dubnos, the underworld or the deep place. The later nineteenth-century Welsh antiquarian Iolo Morganwg established a cosmology of the three worlds which mirrored this system. Gwynfyd, meaning the white life, the upperworld; Abred, the middle realm; and Annwfn, the underworld or the deep place, plus Ceugant, infinity/ the void. While it is unclear whether Morgannwg’s three-world system is as ancient as he claimed, it bears striking similarity to the Gaulish worldview and nonetheless has been taken up within modern Druidry. The term Annwn, or more accurately, Annwfn, etymologically drawn from the Gaulish Dubnos, is genuinely of very ancient origin, used as the generic name for the Welsh otherworld, and of the spirits as well as the land of the dead. In folklore as well as in the surviving literature Annwfn may be found in numerous ways, by crossing the sea or entering the depths of a lake, as well as by climbing to a high place, or entering the very earth itself, often via one of the hollow hills said to be the homes of the faerie folk. Equally the wanderer may stumble upon the Otherworld, unawares, or be sought out by its inhabitants and taken with them.
The otherworld in the Irish and Scottish traditions is interrelated as is their language. In Gaelic, the otherworld goes by many names and can be found in the same manner as in Welsh—over or under water or entering the earth. The otherworld is also found over the sea, on islands near the coast, or by an ocean voyage. In medieval Irish literature we can find the Echtrai and the Immrama tales; the Echtrai, literally meaning adventure, are pre-Christian in origin and concern the hero’s journey into the otherworld and back via a sea voyage, or equally with a change in consciousness and state of mind. The later Immrama, also voyage tales, are Christian yet retain earlier Pagan motifs where the otherworld is found as an in-between state of neither earth nor heaven.
In this way we see the spirit world can be accessed in the mortal everyday world, and interaction with it always was and is considered to be something possible during the course of a normal life by the living and the dead. While ritual to access it was certainly undertaken, it was also understood to be reached via shifts in awareness, and even by mistake. It is both here, and elsewhere, simultaneously. The fact that the Gauls described the mortal world as part of an animistic or shamanic three-world system that could be navigated physically illustrates a belief in the spiritual dimension of the physical mortal world; the gods were immanent in nature and present around us at all times rather than residing in a distant and abstract location. It is for this reason that we are still able to access the spirits today and engage with them now with as much authenticity as at any point in the past.
The Aos Sí: Our Friends Beyond the Fields We Know
Integral to this work is connection with the spirits. In the various Celtic traditions these are usually seen as the faeries, but again this is a large umbrella term. Faeries go by many names in Gaelic or Celtic folklore and are seldom referred to directly in case it attracts their attention unwittingly. They are known in Ireland as the Aos Sí, Sidhe, or the Sith—otherworldly people of the Sidhe or Sid mounds, barrow and burial mounds of the Neolithic and Bronze age with which they are closely associated, and are often said to be the entrance to their homes. They are sometimes known as the Daoine Sidhe or Daoine Maithe, the Good People. In Scotland they are sometimes called the good neighbours or the Gentry as well as the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. They may dwell within aristocratic societies or as lone individuals, but often, especially in the Irish traditions, they are seen as lingering traces of the old pre-Christian gods, the Tuatha de Danann, as well as the vast spirit nations of the land who have dwelled in the land long before the humans came. Amongst the Sidhe may be found the dead, the ancestors, those recently passed, as well as those who travel between the worlds either willingly or as a result of faery abduction. The spirit world is never to be approached without caution and care, for while many spirits and faery beings there may be friendly, many others are not.
These beings are often seen as taller than humans (although this also varies), and their social structure seems to be broadly hierarchical, with kings and queens. In Wales, the faeries dwell in Annwfn, and equally go by several names, most commonly the Tylwyth Teg, and the Gwragedd Annwn. There are also vast numbers of other faerie races, some of which appear to have tribes while others are solitary. Some of these are attached to lakes, rivers, the sea, or to caves and old mines. Sometimes nature spirits are seen as part of the faerie realm, and certainly these exist as much as faeries, though they are more often found within the mortal world. Others are associated with particular trees or are considered companions and guardians to certain bloodlines, such as the Bean Sidhe, literally the faery woman who warns of an approaching death. The realms of the dead and those of faery often intertwine, and the ancestral spirits may also be found in the otherworld or transform into faery according to their own ways.
Many of our early witchcraft and folk magic traditions relied on the practitioner’s connections with the faeries. Evidence such as the Scottish witch trial records show us that while the wider culture and state could be called Christian, in effect the numbers of people actually attending church was often relatively low, and when trouble struck, particularly in rural areas, people were often more likely to seek the help of a wise woman or cunning man with their faery helpers than the support of the clergy. Such practitioners were often said to have made pacts or arrangements with the king or queen of the faeries, who would assign them a helper who in turn would assist their magics and healing work. At other times, these people were said to have made pacts with the devil, but in practice the relationship and tone of the interaction seems to have been the same, and the devil and the faeries were often used interchangeably, as were the terms wisewoman and witch—such definitions as good and bad magical practitioners were entirely subjective and depended very much on a positive local reputation versus the accusations of enemies within the community.
The same ambiguous reputation can be seen in relation to the faeries themselves, who are known as able to be friendly or dangerous by turns. The Irish Creideamh Sí or faery faith goes back incredibly far. This faith revolves around negotiating the relationship with our otherworld kin to the best results, to include a series of taboos and careful etiquette to avoid offending the faeries, as well as traditions of propitiation to appease and garner friendship. While a faery friend can bestow great blessings, to offend the faeries is highly dangerous, and there are several examples concerning their revenge resulting in death, poverty, and madness not only to those who have offended them but to their whole bloodlines. Examples of faery revenge are known to still occur to this day, especially in Ireland and the Outer Hebrides.
Etiquette and Taboos
A key to working with faery is respect—these are our spirit nations, not sparkly little things from children’s books. Our older folklore and faery tales have much to teach us about how to work with these beings. First and foremost, we must seek an ally to be a guide in this work who will negotiate with them for us and on our behalf. In spirit work of all kinds, allies are everything—they help us stay safe and navigate the otherworld and interactions with those we find there. We must also be grounded. This is work for robust people; being “away with the faeries” often means one has lost themselves and been enchanted by them. This does no good. Faeries are beings far closer to the soul of the world than we are, so it helps if we take on that earthy quality and apply a good dose of common sense to our practice. As well, be honest: you don’t have to tell them everything or things you would prefer to keep private, but you must not lie. State clearly your intention and agree to nothing—make no pacts or deals until you are satisfied that you know exactly what the cost will be for the agreement. Another important aspect of etiquette and faery relations is the traditional taboo to not eat faery food. People find this difficult, but giving in always leads to trouble—ego inflation, glamouring (whereby a person becomes ungrounded and confused), and ultimately a loss of personal power, which means the end of any useful magical work or spiritual progression. Often the food is offered as something of a test, and people who succumb burn out their psychic and psychological fuses with serious results in their daily lives and to their mental health. So, take care—a taboo is a taboo for a reason! Next is iron—our connection with faeries is cut with iron, and all modern metals and technology seriously get in the way of useful, positive connection. Keep technology and metal away from your work with faeries, but privately make a mental note of where iron may be found in case you ever need to use it to sever an unfriendly faerie connection. For example, a horseshoe in your pocket is very useful. Finally are offerings. A traditional practice is to make our faery friends offerings such as gifts of cream, milk, butter, honey, or baked goods. These can be placed on an altar, or at a special place outside. Leave them there for a day or two before disposing; the faeries take the energy of the offering but what remains is not good for human consumption. Eating it would be rude and unhealthy, as all the life force has been taken from it. Make offerings regularly and generously to build and maintain relationships with your allies and faery kin.
Love of the Land
The land is in many ways the centre and heart of wild magic, for we are predominantly people of the earth. Until the most recent couple of generations, we lived in close relationship with the land, its seasons, and its moods and needs. As such, it was impossible for those who came before us to dismiss the sense that we are surrounded by spirits; they were understood to be in the ground beneath our feet, in the hills and mountains, in the tilled earth and wild wood, in rock and stone, roaming the land, and feasting within its hollow hills. The Welsh word for the otherworld, Annwfn, meaning the deep place is a spirit realm as easily accessed by travelling over sea, journeying beneath the lakes and rivers, or wandered into while walking on mortal soil. The deep place, the otherworld, is as much a different way of seeing the land, and accessing a different consciousness, as it is another physical place. For us to access this place, our awareness is what must change. This realm dwells beside us, beyond us, and within us, continually, from life to death and beyond.
It is in this otherworld that we may find the faerie folk, the Daoine Maithe, the Sidhe (Irish), the Tylwyth Teg (Welsh), the Elves (Scots and Saxon), An Lucht Sidhe, (Irish, the shining ones), the people of peace, as well as a host of other spirits. When considering the spiritual nature of the land itself, its often worth taking some time to really contemplate that just as we have souls or spirits, so does the land itself, and many beings who live here and share this earth with us have never had a physical form, yet are still dwelling in this realm in its spirit reality … not some distant spiritual plane. For just as the divine is immanent, fully present and indwelling here, so is all spirit, all life, in all its forms. It is but a hair’s breadth away from our awareness, near enough to reach out and touch if we can slow down and reengage with our natural, wild selves.
Ways to Connect with the Faery Faith
Learn your tales and folk lore; these are rich stores of wisdom for dealing with the otherworld. Learn your land. Seeks places with faery folklore or that feel special to you. Walk in moonlight and at dawn and dusk, the liminal times of the day. Follow natures cycles, honour the wheel of the year. Eat local, seasonal food. Carry no iron or technology. Set up an altar or sacred space for communion with the spirits. Make offerings for the faeries and other spirits of baked goods, butter, and cream. Write or read poetry and the old tales, or music to share with your community. Recite your poems and tales or sing songs as offerings to the wild folk; even if you do not sense them, they are listening. Be patient. Walk gently through life. Be of open heart and mind. Call to them on the wind. One day, they will greet you as a friend.
The Land Spirits
There is a vast array of earth spirits and beings, faery folk and other wild things who walk between the otherworld and this mortal earth. They are found by experience, by noticing what others overlook, by seeking out quiet places, attending a piece of the land over time, and seeking friendship with the faery folk. Our myths, folklore, and legends are full of tales of those who have found them long before us, but they are actually still here, walking the land at dawn and dusk, dancing in the light and shadows of trees in the wind, sleeping in caves and mineshafts, and protecting our ancestors in their mounds and cairns.
Here is a list of just a few of the individual faery beings we may find out in the land:
The Knockers
The knockers are earth spirits closely associated with tin mines in Cornwall. They are said to show miners good loads of ore by flickering lights in the depths of the mine, and their knocking, from whence they get their name, was said to warn the miners of danger. Like all spirits, the knockers demand to be treated with respect or they will exact revenge, although they are kindly to those who leave offerings for them. In the past, miners would always leave a portion of their meal for the knockers in thanks for their friendship. But read on about a miner in Cornish folklore named Tom Trevorrow who crossed the knockers.
Traditional Tales
Tom Trevorrow (Cornish)
Tom Trevorrow, who when he was working underground heard the knockers just before him, and roughly told them “to be quiet and go.” Upon which, a shower of stones fell suddenly around him, and gave him a dreadful fright. He seems however to have quickly got over it, and soon after, when eating his dinner, a number of squeaking voices sang:
Tom Trevorrow! Tom Trevorrow! Leave some of thy ‘fuggan’ 6 for bucca,7 Or bad luck to thee to-morrow!
But Tom took no notice and ate up every crumb, upon which the knockers changed their song to:
Tommy Trevorrow! Tommy Trevorrow! We’ll send thee bad luck to-morrow; Thou old curmudgeon, to eat all thy fuggan. And not leave a ’didjan’ 8 for bucca.
After this, such persistent ill-luck followed him that he was obliged to leave the mine.9
The Bucca/ Bwca/ Pwca/ Pooka (Cornish/ Welsh/ Irish)
Sometimes understood as a pixie or other faerie being, the Bucca is also revered as a god or powerful spirit by many Cornish witches. In Cornwall, the Bucca is sometimes seen as a kind of god or king of the faeries or a leader of the knockers and should always be treated with great care. Known as a shapeshifter and trickster, he may take several forms but is often described as roughly humanoid with pointed features and completely black or a fast-moving shadow over wild countryside.
The Glaistig
The Glaistig is commonly thought of as a tutelary spirit, one who oversees a family or a patch of land. Her name comes from the Gaelic for grey, glas, and she is usually described as a thin grey woman, with long fair hair and a green dress. Sometimes she is called the Green Glaistig (a Ghlaistig uaine), her green dress denoting her faery nature. She is often said to have been formerly a fine lady and mistress of the house, who had been taken into faery and given a faery nature. She is said to take care of and offer protection especially to those who are foolish or weak willed, for she has great strength although she will bring trouble to those who disrespect her. Like the Bean Sidhe, she has a cry that can echo off the distant hills, announcing times of joy or of sorrow upon the household she oversees.
Fenodyree
Traditionally a faerie spirit from the Isle of Man, a Fenodyree (sometimes spelled phynodderee, phynnodderee, fynnoderee, or fenoderee) is a small hairy man, often called a sprite or faun-like being. Like the Scottish brownies, he is often a helpful friendly spirit, and if willing, is known in folklore to help with tasks requiring great strength or endurance such as carrying rocks long distances or mowing an entire field. He is sometimes called yn foldyr gastey—the nimble mower, for this reason. The Glashtin, known only in the southern Isle of Man, may be the same kind of faery spirit as the Fenodyree.
The Brownie and the Brùnaidh
Brownies are usually friendly household spirits who care for the house and lands around it, and are famous especially for their farm work. Farmsteads lucky enough to have a brownie would leave them offerings from the various produce the farm grew or made, and in return they would help with the brewing, milk churning, and the reaping and sowing of the crops. On a small now-uninhabited island called the Isle of Vallay near North Uist is a stone called the Brownie stone, which used to be given an offering of milk every Sunday.10
Like the Gruagach, the Brownie should never be given any clothes in thanks, as this causes great offence and will cause them to vanish and leave the house forever. Another name for the Brownie was the Brùnaidh, although this being was slightly different in that he was often known as a mischievous spirit who should not be thanked at all for his help but would still receive offerings of milk. The Brùnaidh insisted that all the doors be left open lest he cause great trouble, and cause the dogs to bark, or tip pails of water about the house. In some places, the dogs would need to be left outside at night or it was said the Brùnaidh would kill them, and he would violently attack those who made a mess in the house at night or approached it with ill intent.11
Brownies and Brùnaidh are later-day versions of the old household gods who were venerated at the hearthside or at a special altar or shrine. While these folktales usually involve examples from larger farms and even stately houses, every household will have its household spirits who are intimately connected to the land on which the house is built and have dwelt there long before the humans came. Befriending these spirits with offerings of milk or other dairy produce, and with acts of care for the home and surrounding land can help to build a deep and fruitful relationship with them. When considering spirits who appear to have some domestic role, its always useful to remember that the land and the spirits dwelling there have a history far older than any building; to bless or clear the energies in a home, one needs to primarily attend to the land itself.
Gruagach
Some tales in the Scottish Highlands describe the Gruagach as a hairy wild man who teaches skills with the sword or a long-haired warrior, but most tales describe them as a fair-haired fairy woman often wearing a conical hat. She oversees the cattle and cares for them casting her protective magic upon them. Gruagachs were usually given a libation of milk poured over special clach na gruagaich or Gruagach stones. These were usually low, flat-topped stones often described these days as glacial erratics that stand out from the local stones in an area often due to their different geology and unusual placements. Many Gruagach stones have a slight dip or naturally formed bowl like cavity upon them which was used for the offering. Such stones have been found throughout Scotland and the Hebrides as far as Arran, Islay, Mull, Tiree, Iona, Harris, Lewis, Cawdor, Culloden, and Lochaber, and a special rhyme was sung or intoned when the offering was made.
‘A ghruagach, a ghruagach,
Cum suas mo spreidhe,
Cum sios an Guaigean,
Cum uap an Geige.
Brownie, brownie,
Uphold my herds,
Keep down the’Guaigean,
Keep from them the Geige.12
(Note: The Guaigen and the Geige are spirits connected to death or bringing death to those they touch.)
Traditional Tales
The Gruagach of East Bennan (Scottish)
The Gruagach lived at East Bennan in a cave which is still called ‘uamh na gruagaich’—cave of the Gruagach, and “uamh na beiste”—cave of the monster. She herded the cattle of the townland of Bennan, and no spring-loss, no death-loss, no mishap, no murrain, ever befell them, while they throve and fattened and multiplied right well.
The Gruagach would come forth with the radiant sun, her golden hair streaming on the morning breeze, and her rich voice filling the air with melody. She would wait on a grassy hillock afar off till the people would bring out their ‘creatairean,’ creatures, crooning a lullaby the while, and striding to and fro. The following is a fragment of one of her songs:
Ho, hi, ho! mach na boidhean,
Boidhean boidheach brogach beannach,
Ho, hi, ho! mach na boidhean.
Crodh Mhicugain, crodh Mhiceannain,
Crodh MhicFhearachair mhoir a Bheannain,
Ho, hi, ho! mach na boidhean.
Corp us carn air graisg na Beurla,
Mharbh iad orm mo cheile falaich,
Ho, hi, ho! mach na boidhean.
Ruisg iad mi gu ruig mo leine,
Struill agus streuill mo leannan,
Ho, hi, ho! mach na boidhean.
Oidhch an Arainn, oidhch an Ile,
’S an Cinntire uaine a bharraich,
Ho, hi, ho! mach na boidhean.’
Ho, hi, ho! out the kine,13
Pretty cattle hoofed and horned,
Ho, hi, ho! out the kine.
Cows of MacCugan, cows of Mackinnon,
Cows of big Macfarquhar of the Bennan,
Ho, hi, ho! out the kine.
Corpse and cairn to the rabble English,
They have killed my hidden lover,
Ho, hi, ho! out the kine.
They have stripped me to my shift,
They have clubbed and torn my lover,
Ho, hi, ho! out the kine.
A night in Arran, a night in Islay,
And in green Kintyre14 of birches,
Ho, hi, ho! out the kine.
The people of Bennan were so pleased with the tender care the Gruagach took of their corn and cattle that they resolved to give her a linen garment to clothe her body and down sandals to cover her feet. They placed these on a knoll near the Gruagach and watched from afar. But instead of being grateful she was offended, and resented their intrusion so much that she determined to leave the district. She placed her left foot on Ben Bhuidhe in Arran and her right foot on Allasan, Ailsa Craig, making this her stepping-stone to cross to the mainland of Scotland or to Ireland. While the Gruagach was in the act of moving her left foot, a three-masted ship passed beneath, the mainmast of which struck her in the thigh and overturned her into the sea. The people of Bennan mourned the Gruagach long and loudly, and bewailed their own officiousness.15
Practical 
Gaining allies known as the Co-Choisiche or the Coimimeadh (Scots Gaelic, “the one who steps with you,” or “co-traveller”) and other spirit contacts when working with faery and and the otherworld is very important. The spirit world in its various forms is neither positive or negative but instead functions as a great cauldron that transforms and evolves; it is the deep energies in the earth, the earth’s very soul; here, you can interact with the consciousness of those who dwell on the surface realms of the material plane. It can be an excellent place for healing and learning about yourself in a deeper way, but it is easy to get lost in the endless reflections of our awareness that we may find there without a guide or friend. Equally, not all spirits and faery beings we may encounter are friendly: some may have no interest in us, and others may have harmful intentions for a whole variety of reasons. Humanity has not always been good to the earth or respectful of spirit; while some spirit beings may have a malignant nature, it’s more common to find beings who are resentful, wary, or in need of healing or a sign that we intend to honour and restore between us all the sacred bonds that once existed (and still do, in many ways). Though it is important to be cautious, the Celtic otherworld is not a place to fear—it is, however, a place to respect and bring our self-knowledge as well as the vital knowledge that what we encounter there are spirit beings in their own right, not merely aspects of ourselves. Not everything exists to serve or help us. So, we must be like independent travellers who learn the terrain (and the language, if we can), seek a guide, and keep our eyes open.
Try the following exercise to connect with the faery realms of the Celtic otherworld and seek an ally or faery friend to assist you.
Sitting comfortably, preferably out in nature somewhere where you will not be disturbed or in some sacred space indoors, settle yourself and take three deep slow breaths. Try to sit with your back straight, either cross-legged or with your bare feet flat on the ground. Really tune into the earth beneath you. Remember that you are ultimately part of one planet-sized ecosystem and organism, and breathe slowly with the earth, letting Her hold you and support your body. After a while, begin to breathe that connection with the earth into your body—see it in your inner vision as life-
giving sap, or golden-green light. Let it slowly fill your body and your energy field, your soul or aura. Give it plenty of time.
With your inner vision, imagine an archway of two oak trees before you with a pale stone path leading through a forest ahead of you. This forest is a vast and timeless place, the great boreal forest of spirit that spans all times and across all the northern lands from Siberia to Scotland to Canada to Mongolia. All things may be found here, for the forest is rich in secrets and wonders. First gaze along the path ahead of you; in your mind, set your intention to seek a faery ally. Say out loud to the woods ahead of you: “I come in friendship and respect to seek a guide to the faery realms and an ally in this place!” Use your own words as you wish. See your bare feet on the path and begin to walk along it through the trees. Take note of the feel of the air and the light—is it day or night? Dawn or dusk? Let the vision before you grow in depth and detail. As you follow the path, you are gradually led up a wide hillside through the trees. The path turns and arcs ahead of you, and you sense you may be ascending a hill by a spiralling way. Up and up and round and round. You hear the sound of hooves upon the path and see a flash of white ahead. For a moment, you see the slender form of a white deer leaping and running ahead of you in the distance. Was it a stag or a hind?
You begin to sense a change in the atmosphere and from time to time almost hear music in the distance that seems to vanish as soon as you pay attention. You continue on your way until you see a large earthen mound rise up before you through the trees. Whether it is day or night, the mound seems to shine with its own special light, quite different from the surrounding area.
As you approach the mound, you see a figure sitting quietly by the trees. Will this be your ally? How does your heart feel? Your gut? You may approach the figure, or they may come to you. Tell them you come in friendship and with respect, seeking an ally. How do they respond?
Finding your ally may be simple and successful on your first visit, or you may need to return to this place over and over until you find the right guide for you whom you can call for inner vision work, as you walk upon the land, or with any other activity. A faery ally is a great thing and must be treasured, but it cannot be forced. Good luck and blessings upon your seeking!
If the being before you is your ally, you will find the connection and conversation is clear and forms well. However, you are under no obligation to accept an ally who doesn’t feel right to you. If things do feel right on this occasion, ask a little about how to learn about faery and the otherworld, as well as how to build your connection with your ally. However, if too many questions don’t feel right, do not rush; trust the process that a good start has been made and return another time. After a while, it will be time to return along the path through the forest. Thank your ally, and return to your body, repeating the route in reverse, not deviating off the path.
Take some deep breaths feeling the air in your lungs and the blood in your veins. Open your eyes and wiggle your fingers and toes to feel fully back to your body.
The Fetch or Co-walker
The fetch, sometimes known as the Taise (Irish) or the Coimimeadh (Scots Gaelic meaning “co-traveller” or “co-walker”) is an ally who has always been with you throughout your life, though you may not know it. Having a conscious and clear relationship with your fetch is deeply personal and powerful and marks a certain level of self-knowledge and psychic clarity. Much like the co-walkers or Coimimeadh described by the Rev. Robert Kirk in his excellent treatise on the Scottish Faery faith, The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Faeries, the fetch may take on any form and shift and change forms at will. Often a faery of some kind, the fetch is your lifelong spirit ally who experiences some measure of the mortal world by literally walking with you in life. In exchange, they may help you with deeper or long-term patterns and spiritual growth. A fetch or co-walker can be a really useful ally. Their presence can be strongly felt, or they can simply give you a subtle sense that you are accompanied in some way at certain points in your life, depending on the relationship you build with them. There is no fixed tradition on how these allies will work with you as everyone is different, but working with a fetch can be powerful magic and affect real change. Working together can also help the practitioner with life-long challenges and even broader soul evolution.
In Irish folklore, the fetch is said to have the exact appearance of the person it accompanies; when seen (often at a distance by someone who knows the person is in fact somewhere else miles away), it is said to be an omen of their death. However, there are far more firsthand accounts of a fetch being seen where this is not the outcome, and I have seen numerous fetches over the years, none of which foretold a death. Instead, a fetch may go somewhere ahead of the person it accompanies to check out the area beforehand, bring something back from there, or alert whoever spots them that the person they resemble is in need of assistance or will be visiting soon.
Practical
We’ve all had those times where we feel like someone is right beside or behind us. This presence is often your fetch, although that’s not the only interpretation. At other times, a fetch may come to you in dreams or you may repeatedly see an image in your daily life that invokes a deeper emotional stirring and evokes their presence. A relationship with a fetch is something people often become aware of as they grow older; the many times they have either felt their presence or dreamt of them becomes understood as a pattern that takes form over many years. The fetch is the main spirit who can help you regain lost instincts and intuitions not just for yourself but your whole bloodline. With them, you can heal long-standing patterns that persist through generations, as the fetch may have helped your ancestors before you. By forming a close relationship with this spirit, you may find your wild inner self returning to help you walk through life with a sense of balance and inner connection previously thought impossible.
Calling in your fetch takes time, and the effort is best made with your heart as the main leader and teacher. Make offerings to the fetch; perhaps set aside a special place in your home where you leave offerings and also place things that help invoke the deeper feeling which comes with its presence. As you find times in your day when you are alone, speak to it as you would a life-long friend, and look out for the subtle touch of its presence. Keep a dream journal and record your dreams with the sense that it has perhaps taken many forms over time but with the same feeling in every instance. Court it as a lover or your own soul—after all, it carries with it your deepest desires, plans, and knowledge from one life to another. Treat it with patience and courtesy, asking that it becomes known to you, and treat it with honour and care. In time, it will show itself to you more and more, and you may be able to access its wisdom with greater ease and clarity. There is no map for this practice, as it is the deepest magical relationship and you must bring your most authentic self to the task, without preconceived ideas or projections.
1. Diodorus Siculus, Library of History, Volume XI: Fragments of Books 21-32, trans. Francis R. Walton. (Cambridge, MA: Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press, 1957), 146.
2. Lucan, Pharsalia, Book 1, lines 450–62, trans. Nora K. Chadwick, The Druids (Cardiff, Wales, UK: University of Wales Press, 1966), 53–54.
3. John Carey, “The Old Gods of Ireland,” Understanding Celtic Religion: Revisiting the Pagan Past (Cardiff, Wales, UK: University of Wales Press, 2015), 65.
4. Emma Wilby, Cunning Folk and Familiar Spirits: Shamanistic Visionary Traditions in Early Modern British Witchcraft and Magic (East Sussex, UK: Sussex Academic Press, 2013), 26.
5. Julius Caesar, The Gallic Wars (Latin and English): De Bello Gallico, trans. W. A. Macdevitt. (n.l.: Neptune Publishing, Kindle edition) location 6954 of 14665.
6. Fuggan—A raisin cake popular with miners for their lunch.
7. Bucca—A trickster faery being, highly revered in Cornwall and here understood to be the leader of the knockers.
8. Didjan—A tiny bit or morsel of food. Here meaning not a scrap of cake, or an offering.
9. Margaret Ann Courtney, Cornish Feasts and Folk-Lore (AlbaCraft Publishing. 1886. Kindle Edition), 70.
10. Martin Martin, A Description of the Western Islands of Scotland (London: A. Bell, 1776), republished in Kindle edition (AlbaCraft Publishing, 2013), location 787.
11. John Gregorson Campbell, Superstitions of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland (Glasgow: James MacLehose and Sons. 1900) republished in Kindle (Albacraft Publishing 2012), 2117.
12. Alexander Carmichael, Carmina Gadelica Vol. II (Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, 1900), 306. http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cg2/cg2111.htm.
13. Kine—cattle.
14. Bennan is on the west coast of Scotland. Arran and Islay (pronounced isla) are both islands in the Hebrides, and Kintyre is a south western Scottish peninsula; all these destinations are relatively close to one another.
15. Carmichael, Carmina Gadelica Vol. II, 308.