Cerridwen’s Cauldron

the womb of enchantment

• • •

Come and taste of the cauldron’s brew,
and magic she will give to you,
You will dance in the eye of the storm;
you’re Cerridwen’s children,
the cauldron born.

Damh the Bard, “The Cauldron Born”

Standing in central position is the great cauldron of Cerridwen. This vessel, although non-anthropomorphic in nature, is one of the primary archetypes of the tale. The symbol of the cauldron is commonplace in the modern Pagan movement, but why? Where does it come from? Is it enough to simply state that it is just a symbol of the Goddess? A deeper understanding of this symbol is required.

The cauldron at the centre of our tale is the vessel that contains the essence of the transformation experience. It epitomises several qualities that are of great importance to the process, which will be discussed a little later. Primarily it is the vessel that contains the essence of the three sacred drops; it holds Awen until it is ready to be taken by the initiate.

I begin by exploring the cauldron in reference to the divine feminine and its pertinence to our tale. For centuries the cauldron has been a symbol of the feminine, especially in relation to its semblance as a womb or a receptacle that holds within it the essence of spirit or life. On a purely physical level the cauldron symbolises the hearth, food, and sustenance; it epitomises the heart of the home. Every round and long house from the Bronze Age and through to the Iron Age would have had a cauldron at its centre, held by chains that supported it above the hearth’s warming fires. It is only a small leap from that function to adopting the cauldron as the symbol of what nourishes us. Akin to the body of a mother who sustains us for nine months before we are birthed from her “cauldron”—our initiation into this life—she becomes the physical and spiritual representation of the cauldron. There are two words in the Welsh language for cauldron, crochen and pair; the word crochen shares the same prefix, cro, with the word croth, meaning “womb.”

If we take the above into account, it can be perceived that Cerridwen and the cauldron may be seen as one and the same thing. The cauldron is simply an externalisation of the nourishing properties of the witch goddess’s womb. Suffice it to say that the cauldron, in its central position, represents the potential of Awen as the vessel that holds it, implying that within the womb we swim knowingly in the magic of Awen. It is our birthing into this world—the breaking of the waters within the cauldron—that causes us to forget our connection to this unifying force of the universe. However, for a time within our infancy we continue to swim in the oneness. To a babe in arms, the mother is the universe in its entirety, and the baby is an integral part of that; it is one with its mother.

Alas, we grow independent of our source—of what symbolises the connective magic of the universe—and we fall into the illusion of “I” and “Other.” We become separated from our origin, from the truth of connection that our birth and infancy expressed. For many what follows is the journey to discover oneself, when, in fact, we were never lost to begin with. Mythological allegories arose in response to this, and our ancestors in their wisdom developed methods and techniques that would reunite us with the source of our spirits. In the Celtic continuum this naturally developed as the symbol of the cauldron and found its way from the home to the schools of mystery, epitomised by the witch goddess and the initiate prophet.

“I received my Awen from the cauldron of Cerridwen,” said Taliesin. He received Awen from the cauldron, from the extension of the Great Mother’s womb. In relation to the cauldron as a representation of the divine feminine, it can be seen within the story that there are, in fact, three cauldrons.

Initially the symbol is blatantly apparent in the form of a gigantic iron cauldron, which hangs from a great chain and swings above a roaring fire. This stands in an initial position within the tale; it is the vessel that invokes the essence of Awen into itself; it is the physical introduction to the subtle qualities of magic. For the student of the sublime—for a potential initiate whose only experience in the world is of worldly things—the introduction to the occult world must begin on an earthly level or nothing that follows will make sense. Before we can ascend into spirit, the descent into matter must be complete, meaning that in order for us to understand the spiritual experientially, we must first understand and be fully immersed in the world in which we live. To attempt to fast-track the physical would be foolhardy and dishonour the connection we have to the here and now, to the planet that sustains us. It also implies that the keys to understanding the spiritual are held within the physical. When we consider this in relation to Awen, it makes perfect sense: everything in the world swims in Awen; it is only illusion that causes us to believe we are separate.

The cauldron, therefore, stands as the symbol to a multitude of connective relationships, but primarily it acts as the physical vessel that is indicative of our place in the world. We gather materials from this world, ingredients that we can hold, smell, taste; they are physical and yet they resonate with Awen. They are acknowledged for the relationship they have with their locality; their personalities teach us the diversity of the world whilst simultaneously celebrating the oneness of this organism that we are an inexorable aspect of: earth. They are subsequently cast into water, which symbolises sustenance and oneness. The vessel is teaching us about our world—about the magic that we see in the physical. To create the brew, the world must be observed, the dance of sun and moon informing us of when the bulbs of snowdrops stir within their earthly tombs. It shouts in proclamation of spring as the apple blossom gracefully unfolds from tiny buds. Campions raise their glorious heads towards the sun, singing of life, calling to the bees to suckle at nectar. This is magic! This is the awe-inspiring, gob-smacking wonder and sheer magic of the world we inhabit. All of it is singing—every single ingredient of the brew and the creatures they interact with raise their voices in sheer praise of the world. In our quest we reach down and breathe in tune with a primrose that has been singing its little head off in praise of the sun that sustains it; we feel and sense its part of the story, and within it an explosion of magic unfolds. As we acknowledge its presence, its role in our brew, we sense the beating heart of our nearest star, burning with heat beyond imagination, its nuclear fusion and radiations pelting our planet, reaching through the atmosphere to be reflected in the tiny flower we hold in our fingers. This is why the tale begins with such a physical emblem. It teaches us to look for the magic around us; otherwise, how can we possibly find the magic that lies between the worlds?

Being fully immersed in the world is to know the magic it holds—to see the wonder in a sunset, to gasp in awe at the power of the tides. To watch the ebb and flow of the perpetual cycles of life, death, and rebirth in a tree outside your window is to sense the magic that causes our ascent into spirit. And then, all at once, the waters break—the cauldron splits, and the chase begins. We are ascending into the realms of the subtler senses, and we run ahead of the witch goddess who instigates our transformation. Having tasted Awen, we begin to know it, and, with hearts thumping and threatening to shatter the sternum, we run, changing form as we do so, knowing that another fate waits in this cycle of initiation.

The initial cauldron lies broken, its contents deadly toxic; its magic is not designed for another. The tale is meticulously sequential; nothing is happening on a whim. The initial cauldron leads us to another, this one more directly linked with the mother. As the spilt liquid of the cauldron cools on the wet grass, the initiate concludes the chase and is pecked into the belly of the black crested hen, the shapeshifting witch goddess Cerridwen. As a seed battered by the chase, exhausted by our dance through the drama of the elements and the seasons, we descend into darkness. The hen breaks her form, her feathers becoming the black fabric of a flowing robe as Cerridwen stretches from a bird to a woman. As she stands, a cloak of feathers falling about her shoulders, she screams as she senses the seed implanted in her womb. The fires of creation are kindled yet again. In the womb-cauldron the initiate rests, fed by the flowing spirit of Awen that transfers its omnipotence from placenta to babe. Cerridwen’s womb is the second cauldron of the journey. The process takes time; gestation is required to absorb what the initiate has been taught thus far. Previously we stirred the waters of Awen; we familiarised ourselves with its properties. Now we swim in it—it is the primary experience of knowing we are at one with it, but it is not the last.

As Cerridwen’s cauldron breaks open and she screams the initiate into being, lifting the stunned babe from between her legs, she too is transformed by the power of the cauldron. Her heart filled with empathy and knowing, she fulfils her duty as initiatrix and conceals the initiate into yet another cauldron—the bol croen, the coracle, skin-belly, or womb. Cast onto water—a recurring theme—this cauldron carries the initiate into the song of Taliesin.

It is apparent by examining the above that there is a connection, both culturally and literary, that sympathetically and symbolically links the cauldron and the womb. This tale demonstrates the vitality and function of the divine feminine in initiatory mythology, beautifully tied and bound to that most enigmatic of Celtic symbols, the cauldron. For any exploration of the significance of the cauldron to be in any way comprehensive, it is imperative that we explore its occurrence within the Celtic mythological and cultural continuum.

The archaeological and literary records clearly demonstrate the importance of cauldrons both physically and spiritually in Iron Age Celtic culture. Enormous cauldrons have been discovered throughout the British Isles and northern Europe in lakes, pits, and peat bogs. The cauldron was a vessel of dual significance, expressing a physical and spiritual attribution; however, the cauldron was also a symbol of power and wealth. Celtic chieftains were renowned for their generous hospitality in providing their guests with a feast of gargantuan delights, affairs that expressed pride and duty to their fellow tribal leaders. The amount of food prepared and the quality of it demonstrated the wealth and the efforts of the chieftain to entertain and impress. No doubt an aspect of this hosting was the continuous act of outdoing the hospitality of one’s competitors. Central to this tenet was the cauldron and all the ornaments and tools that decorated the hearth, the heart of the chieftain’s kingdom. According to the archaeologist Frances Lynch, the hearth with its accoutrements, firedogs, and cauldrons became the focus of the amount of power the chieftain possessed and his ability to reward those loyal to him.26

The Gundestrup cauldron from Jutland is perhaps the most ornate and visually stunning cauldron to have survived the ages; this gilded silver vessel is covered in mythical depictions of deities and archetypes, including a cauldron! One of its panels depicts a ritual act of immersing an individual into a cauldron, a motif which appears throughout European Celtic mythology. Archaeologists have since concluded that the iconography upon the cauldron is of pre-Roman origin and that the images portray deities and archetypes pertinent to the Celts of that region.27

To understand the essential nature of Cerridwen’s cauldron, it is useful to be introduced to other similar vessels that share a magical lineage. I have chosen the following two examples—namely, the Second and Third Branches of the Mabinogi legends, and the poem “The Spoils of Annwn” from the Book of Taliesin—for good reason: Taliesin appears in both. They are directly linked to the initiate of Cerridwen’s cauldron.

For I will give unto thee a cauldron, the property of which is, that if one of thy men be slain today, and be cast therein, tomorrow he will be as well as ever he was at the best, except that he will not regain his speech.28

The above is taken from one of Wales’s most enigmatic of tales, known collectively as the Mabinogi, which can be translated to mean “tales of youth.” These consist of several tales, four of which are collectively identified as the Four Branches, that are steeped in allegory and hidden meaning. Akin to the tale at hand, they also serve to guide the querent on a profound spiritual journey. They are filled with archetypes that assist the hero on his or her quest into the realms of the spirit. Within the Second Branch of the Mabinogi we encounter a young woman named Branwen, daughter of Llyr; one of her brothers is called Bendigeidfran (“blessed crow/raven”). Llyr is a British chief god of the sea, and his family is collectively known as the Children of the House of Llyr—they represent the sea and are those who protect Ynys Y Kedeirn, the Island of the Mighty, a synonym for the British Isles.

The story narrates the tale of the king of Ireland, who sails to Britain to ask for Branwen’s hand in marriage. Unfortunately, he fails to ask her brother Efnysien’s permission (a figure who bears semblance to Morfran Afagddu, who will be discussed later), and in retaliation he mutilates the king’s horses. To compensate for the crime of his brother, Bendigeidfran presents the king of Ireland with a cauldron that will bring the dead back to life; it is the cauldron of rebirth. When questioned as to the origin of this cauldron, Bendigeidfran explains that it came from Ireland, from a place called “the lake of the cauldron,” and it was carried upon the back of giant. The cauldron was forcibly obtained and eventually given to the king of Ireland.

Alas, the tale takes a tragic turn with the mistreatment of Branwen; she turns to nature and trains a starling to fly across the Irish Sea to warn her brother Bendigeidfran. A battle ensues, but the Irish have an added advantage with the cauldron of rebirth; however many men are killed, they are resurrected by the cauldron. The properties of the cauldron render the resurrected warriors dumb, perhaps to prevent them from speaking of what they experienced within the depths of the magical vessel. Also of interest is the period of gestation within the cauldron: they are cast in on the day of death and resurrected the next. They seemingly must spend a period of darkness in the womb of the mother before they are reborn. This has parallels with the initiation rites of our tale; this act of immersion and gestation in cauldrons, or vessels of the feminine, is a recurring theme throughout Celtic mythology. The battle continues until the instigator of the initial conflict, Efnysien, the shadow, places himself into the cauldron and stretches his limbs within it, thus shattering the vessel and rendering it useless. In the process his heart is torn, and he perishes. The battle ends, and only seven survivors return to Britain. Among them is Taliesin.

Losing the power of speech is a common motif in Celtic mythology—it implies the secret, individualistic nature of initiation and integration of the mysteries. One cannot speak of what occurs within the cauldron; the quest makes sense only to the one who is being immersed within the experience. To speak of this would be foolhardy in that it would make no coherent sense to a noninitiate and would dishonour the mysteries themselves. The next branch of the Mabinogi, called the Mabinogi of Manawydan, continues this theme of enforced dumbness. Here we witness the tribulations and ultimately the magical binding and disappearance of two deific characters, the enigmatic Rhiannon and her son Pryderi. In turn they are led to a magical caer (meaning “fort”), wherein hangs a giant cauldronlike bowl that swings from four chains that reach beyond the sky. It is said of Pryderi:

…as soon as he touched the bowl, his hand stuck to it and his feet became fixed to the slab beneath him, and the power of speech was taken from him so that he was unable to say a single word. And there he stood, unable to move.29

Rhiannon, in search of her son, discovers him and foolishly touches the same bowl and suffers the same fate. This single paragraph in the Third Branch conceals a staggering amount of hidden meaning and intertextual references that allude to the mysteries, the wisdom and the magic of the Celtic chronicles. Its pertinence to our tale is beautifully narrated by the medievalist Will Parker:

The bowl in the caer belongs to the same family of symbols…as the Peir Pen Annwfn (the cauldron of the Head of Annwn) which boils not the meat of a coward…These are essentially goddess motifs: symbolic of the nurturing/sexual qualities of the feminine…30

The importance and magical significance of the cauldron is continuously reinforced and perpetuated throughout the mythology of the British Isles and Ireland; therefore, it is no accident that it plays such a vital role in the tale of Cerridwen and Taliesin. Regardless of the age of the actual manuscripts, the themes and iconography it contains is evocative of a school of mystery that has persisted for millennia.

There are obvious similarities in the above tale to that of Cerridwen and Taliesin, in that it concerns a mother and her child. In the case of Rhiannon and Pryderi, they represent the Mare of Sovereignty and her foal, who are indicative of the land and the relationship the tribe has with it. This enforces the sanctity and sacredness of horses as symbols of the divine feminine in the British Isles. The cauldron is indicative of the mystical, a vessel of knowledge wherein our route to total immersion in the flowing river of Awen lies. It is the symbol of the divine feminine as a vessel of transformation. Whereas the horse is the feminine symbol of the fertility within the land itself, this diversity of symbology is demonstrative of the plethora of attributes that connect us and the gods to almost every possible aspect of the human condition and potential. The cauldron of Cerridwen opens a gateway to the other cauldrons of Celtic myth that are worthy of exploration. Alas, I can only realistically give a brief account within the confines of this book, but it’s enough, I hope, to whet your appetite.

In the previous quote by Will Parker, you will have noted reference to the Peir Pen Annwfn, or the cauldron of the Head of Annwn—this is from a poem in the Book of Taliesin and is designated the title “The Spoils of Annwn.” It recounts the heroic journey of Arthur and his warriors, along with Taliesin, on an epic journey to the underworld in search of the cauldron of the Head of Annwfn,31 the ultimate Celtic magical cauldron. There are as many interpretations of the poem as there are words within it—it is appropriate, however, in this section to give you a brief description of its meaning.

Within my own order, the poem, along with the tale of Cerridwen and Taliesin and the Four Branches of the Mabinogi, are the primary tools of teaching. Within each we find a cauldron. Each cauldron brings a different quality to the quest of the hero; it imparts its wisdom in a manner that prepares the initiate for the next phase of the journey. Within “The Spoils of Annwn” we encounter seven magical forts to which a specific journey is made. The vessel that is used is a ship called Prydwen, a typical feminine deific title in the Welsh language that contains the suffix -wen, meaning “pure,” and denotes a creature of deific attribution. This vessel carries the hero on a tumultuous and perilous journey into the underworld and to the seven different island forts in search of the cauldron. The poem tells us something of the nature of the cauldron:

My first words were spoken concerning the cauldron; from the breath of nine maidens it is warmed. It is the cauldron of the Head of Annwn, what is its purpose with its dark rim and edged with pearls? It will not boil the food of a coward; it is not destined to do so.32

The inclusion of one verse that relates to nine maidens further emphasises the feminine nature of the cauldron, but it also implies that the journey will be difficult—a coward will never access the mysteries of the cauldron. To effectively descend into its depths, we are required to be strong and brave, qualities epitomised by the presence of Arthur, who is also indicative of the flawed nature of man. To accept and acknowledge our flaws is to lessen their power over us. Wisdom and insight are necessary for the quest, and it is Taliesin who brings this quality. He is the radiant light of knowing, who instinctively guides us through the subtle worlds in search of the cauldron. Prydwen, the vessel, is the Goddess herself who guides us across the sea of discovery, to “berth” us at each island.

The Anglesey Druid Order devised a system of teaching from this poem that interprets it as a journey into “self.” It is the descent into matter and the exploration of the nature of who we are, why we are, and what we are. Almost all spiritual traditions incorporate methods of exploring the self—it is not exclusive to Celtic traditions; even the temple at Delphi has the inscription “know thyself” carved above its door. This poem provides an effective tool for the evisceration of the self, which by definition is not an easy journey or quest; it is not intended to be. The Celtic schools of mystery teach us a programme for living consciously and lucidly and with authenticity. They provide us with keys that teach the nature of “self” and that human nature, our nature, is a part of the whole and worthy of celebration. When we embark on a spiritual quest, we embark on a journey into the self, for as the cauldron teaches us, the self is a part of the whole; to know it is to honour it.

The system that hides within “The Spoils of Annwn” is beautifully complex yet paradoxically simple. Each of the caeri (forts) represents a vital aspect of the human condition. They define us as individuals and are facets of our personalities and experience in this world. They also define how damaged or intact we are upon arrival in this life and how we navigate the waves of our lives. Journeys to the forts can teach us the nature of who we are; by allowing us to “see the wood through the trees,” we step outside of our normal boundaries and venture inwards as a traveller who observes. We may note the strengths and defences of our individual forts and will also learn of their weaknesses and the manner by which events may have compromised them. There are times when wounds from the past can be of such force that they obliterate the walls of our forts; disconnection ensues. When this occurs, there is no mechanism or reserves available for us to rebuild our defences. When our forts have been compromised, we may develop self- perpetuating patterns of behaviour and inappropriate coping strategies, which indicate the damage done. The journey to knowing ourselves takes all of these into consideration, but we are guided and protected through the quest by powerful and ancient archetypes. We do not embark alone; there are forces that help us.

Within the poem there is an eighth fort, which no journey is made to. It is called Caer Pedryfan, or the “four-walled enclosure.” It is simultaneously interpreted as the island of Britain and as the boundary of Annwn; it is that which contains the experience. In a physical sense, it would be your auric field. It is the serpent’s egg that surrounds your boundary; it is the first point of defence. This powerful fort represents protection, control, and vitality. It is the outward expression of our functionality and the manner by which we respond to the apparent world. The apparent characteristics of this fort can be seen emulated in the body’s immune system, which is determined by our thymus gland, which in turn dictates before our birth our immune capabilities. A chink in the armour of our immune system can indicate the compromised state of one or more of our forts.

It is by this association that each of the subsequent seven forts has corresponding endocrine organs. This provides a system of energy centres akin to the Eastern chakra tradition but grounded in applicable occidental mythology rather than the dependency on oriental teachings. This brings a subjective concept into the body and makes it apparent; we are able to feel the effects physically. In slight contrast to the cauldron of Cerridwen, which initiates us into the mysteries of our origination and oneness with the universe, the cauldron of Annwn takes us on a journey into our human selves. It provides us with the ingredients for the experience of life. Both journeys are vital for spiritual development; each complements the other. To assist the conceptualisation of the journey to Annwn, it is necessary to engage your imagination:

Close your eyes and imagine an enormous cauldron, large enough to almost swim in! You climb a ladder that rests against its belly and peer over the edge. Within the cauldron you see an ocean, upon which float a series of islands. Cast yourself over the edge and feel yourself falling towards the sea. You seem to float momentarily, and see a ship beneath you: Prydwen. Your feet land gently upon her deck. Seagulls fly overhead. The sky contains a glowing sun and a silver moon; both smile down upon you. At the prow of the ship, standing side by side, are the stationary figures of Taliesin and Arthur; courage shines from the eyes of the king and wisdom gleams from the forehead of the prophet. With a bump, the ship arrives at the first island.

Caer Siddi: The Fort of Necessity

This fort is represented by the pituitary gland, the master gland. Its fort is a single tower, steadfast and strong; it revolves of its own volition and is surrounded by fire in which instruments are playing of their own accord. Above it is a fountain of youthful illusion, and around it is the wellspring of the sea. It is a place of illusion and repetition. It is the assumed earthly state. We are imprisoned here and held by heavy grey chains until we see and acknowledge its illusory nature. It is immovable and steadfast; it is the place of influence. Its illusions can convince all other forts of its truths and untruths. Yet it is the place of the fire in the head—we can see through its illusion as simply a fort that strives to maintain the status quo.

Does the cauldron reside here? If so, what is its nature? What does the mystery of this place and the search for the cauldron convey to your spirit? Contemplate the nature of the cauldron that may be located in this and the subsequent forts.

Prydwen calls you to journey to the next island.

Caer Feddwit: The Fort of Mead Intoxication

This fort is represented by the thyroid gland. It sits on a floral island, its towers rising from a sea of green; bees buzz busily about its turrets. Guard bees protect its entrance, and the queen hums from within. This is the place of communication and expression; it is the manner by which we converse with the world. It presents us with what nourishes but also what poisons; its intoxicating nature can convince us to believe our own illusions. Yet all that we find pleasurable lies here, and in it our ability to laugh and be joyous, to carouse and be entertained and to entertain. It can be addictive. This is the point where we express our emotions; it is the gateway from the forts to the world beyond.

Does the cauldron reside here? If so, what is its nature?

A beacon of light from the brow of Taliesin alerts you to board the ship. Prydwen sighs as she docks at the next island.

Caer Rigor: The Fort of Hardness and Rigidity

This fort is represented by the adrenal glands. This tall, mountainous island rises sharply from the sea; its flanks are decorated with wildflower meadows, woodlands, and green plains. A single fort sits precariously on a cliff top whilst ruined buildings adorn the lowlands. This is the place of stumbling, of harshness and falling; it is the place of the ego. It is the most dangerous of all the forts. Here we may fall into the “I’m not good enough” or “I’m right and you’re wrong” mentality. Our principles lie here, and our ability to stand and fight or take flight. We may be immovable and stubborn on this island, overly protective of the cauldron. Our impulses are controlled here, whether they are rational or irrational. Rigor can cause us to be stuck in our ways, to become petrified. Herein lie our personal strengths and our determination; the ability to make things happen is here. We may construct from this point and also destroy. If we stumble, do we fall? If we fall, do we succumb to defeatism or do we rise to our feet, dust ourselves off, and start again?

Does the cauldron reside here? If so, what is its nature?

The bellows of Arthur’s lungs call your name from the edge of the island, and you return to Prydwen. The sea laps gently at her bough as she berths at the next island.

Caer Wydr: The Fort of Glass

This fort is represented by the thymus gland. This island blinds you—it is made entirely of glass, some of it rounded and smoothed by the sea, others pillars sharp as a sickle and gnarling from the island’s bedrock. Its towers are made entirely of clear glass, its staircases, floors, and rooms visible through its walls. Upon its walls thousands of faceless people stand watching you; you call to them but they do not answer. This is the point of being “you”—it is the centre of the self, your point of perspective. It is the place where you believe what you see, not knowing that you are looking through glass, which, although transparent, alters your view. This is the place of liminality; it sets all inherited patterns, how and when we die, and what we are susceptible to. This is fate, which is unknown; all uncertainty exists here, but so does our potential to access its mystery. Caer Wydr affects the manner by which we perceive all the other forts.

Does the cauldron reside here? If so, what is its nature?

Prydwen’s sails flap in the breeze as you board once more and cross the expanse of sea towards…

Caer Goludd: The Fort of Guts and Impediment

This fort is represented by the endocrine function of the pancreas. The towering heights of Goludd rise from flames as bright as the sun, which burns to the west of it; in the east is the fullness of the moon. These are the fires of your passion and anger; it is what we feel in the pits of our stomachs. It is ruled by fire. This place represents our riches, both physical and spiritual, and also our material wealth and gain. However, it is also a place of frustration and may imply gloom, for it is a place that floats between light and dark. Here we reward ourselves after trials we have won. It is what defines how we learn, what we learn, and what we allow to influence us. Our vanity comes from here, as does our smugness and snobbery. It is here that we encounter all our fiery emotions—sexual impulses are invoked here; our lustfulness and the primal drive of carnality rise from this place. Our passion—which in turn can lead to anger, grief, despair, and the influx of energy that compels us forward—stems from here. The song of Goludd can be sensed in the gnawing claw that we feel in our solar plexus when confronted with extreme emotions.

The fires of Goludd can only be tempered by our ability to control them. They may instill fear that implies we do not always like what we feel deep within ourselves at times.

Does the cauldron reside here? If so, what is its nature?

Prydwen’s wooden body creaks against the next island as you disembark onto…

Caer Vandwy: The Fort of Mystery

This fort is represented by the reproductive glands, the ovaries and the testes. The island rises brightly and magnificently from the sea, its base a single piece of pure gold; an impossibly high tower made entirely of crystal reaches into the sky. Steps hewn out of the gold lead you to the tower. The floor of the tower is adorned by a Celtic cross carved into the gold; beautifully elaborate, its knots twist and turn with glorious precision. In the centre, where the arms of the cross meet, is a brilliant beam of blue light, like that from a neutron star. It arises from a pit of utter darkness. There is music here and power beyond comprehension. This is the fort that combines all other forts into cohesion; it is the place that sings of our origination. All the wisdom and knowledge of all the worlds are within its walls; the light is the music of magic and creation. This is the place of knowing, where we make sense of the mysteries. Its danger is inexperience, foolhardiness, and arrogance; its message is that one cannot conceptualise what one has no concept of. Yet it teaches us that we are the sum totality of all that has been before us. Does the light stream from the cauldron?

Does the cauldron reside here? If so, what is its nature?

You embark the ship for the final crossing to…

Caer Ochren: The Fort of Edges

This fort is represented by the pineal gland. The sky is dark here; the castle sits gloomily and silently amidst the rocks of grey and black. Its towers are many and dimly lit by an unknown source. Within the fort is a perplexing array of mirrors—seemingly every wall, each ledge, floor, and ceiling are constructed of mirrors. In the centre of the vast hall sits an alien animal; its silver head holds a lantern between its horns. Once lit, the fort shines brightly as light reflects sharply from the mirrored surfaces. Like the third eye, the pineal gland, this place is activated by light. The secrets of the moon hide within this place. It is the home of mirrored observation; the ebb and flow of personality live here. This is the place where we think we see ourselves. In actuality, we see only a reflection, which is an image in reverse. From here we reflect what we want to present to the world; we may fall into another’s footsteps here and become sheep. Remember, the moon does not shine by its own light, but by another’s. By whose light do you shine? Is it your own? We may judge ourselves harshly in Ochren, but remember that what we see in the mirror is not a true representation. Perception and effectuality live here, as do the limitations of our intelligence.

You sense Taliesin and Arthur beside you. They ask you a question: “Is the cauldron within this place? What is its nature?”

They lead you back to Prydwen. From her decks you raise from your feet, above the sea of Annwn, and back into your mortal coil.

• • •

The above system serves to demonstrate the complexity of cauldrons within the Celtic continuum. Although the journey appears to navigate through a sea of islands, it is, in fact, a journey into the cauldron; the entire experience is contained within it. And Prydwen, like Cerridwen in our tale, is the divine feminine power needed to ensure a successful and fruitful journey that deeply transforms. Utilised as a template for exploration of the self, this technique aligns one to the wisdom of the past made applicable to the modern age.

The cauldron teaches us the nature of isolation as a valued and necessary tool for development. We may share experiences collectively as a group, a grove, or a coven. But the journey into the womb of the witch goddess or into aspects of the self must be conducted alone. Support is essential, but a guiding hand is limited to being on the periphery. The isolation we sense within the cauldron is tantamount to death before the necessary rebirth as an initiate of the mysteries; this is further elaborated upon in the section devoted to Gwion Bach. The cauldron embodies the darkness before birth; it heightens our insecurities, our fears and demons that are projected onto the dark walls of our psyche. The period of gestation, as in any form of training, is lengthy; it does not occur overnight. Instead we must endure the solitude, the isolation, and the darkness in order to understand our fears, flaws, and compromised personalities, and acknowledge them as essential components of the whole. A journey into self and into the mysteries is not intended to destroy or negate our multifaceted personas, but instead it facilitates the acceptance of what and who we are in relation to our tribes, our families, our friends, nature, and the universe in its entirety.

Exercise

Take a moment to imagine the great cauldron of Cerridwen sitting on flames that relentlessly lick at its belly. The surface of its contents simmer, casting great pillars of steam into the air; the fragrance of a thousand herbs and berries tickles your nostrils. The cauldron is enormous, large enough to accommodate eight men. From its edge you cast yourself into its belly, the boiling liquid searing your skin, and you descend into the darkness. The cauldron has no bottom—it is endless, it reaches into the subtle realms of Awen; each molecule of your body responds, and in a flash of light, your body disassembles into its component atoms. Your body vanishes yet your consciousness remains, though not quite in the same manner as in the apparent world—it knows more, it is more than the sum total of the body. It is all that was, all that ever will be—all the sciences, magic, and wisdom of all the worlds are known to you at that point, as they were prior to your spirit condensing into the density of your human body. You possess no eyes to see by means of light, but you sense the apparent world above the simmering surface of the cauldron’s contents; moving towards it, the molecules of your body reassemble, and you emerge, body unscathed, from the bubbling vessel. Floating as if carried on a plane of glass, you rise into the air and descend gracefully onto the soft green grass near the lakeshore. A smile caresses your features as you utter, “I am from the cauldron born.”

Record your meditation in your journal.

[contents]

26. Lynch, Prehistoric Anglesey.

27. Green, Exploring the World of the Druids.

28. Taken from the Second Branch of the Mabinogi of Branwen, translated by Lady Charlotte Guest in 1838.

29. The Mabinogi of Manawydan, Son of Llyr, translated by the author in 2011.

30. Parker, The Four Branches of the Mabinogi, 418.

31. Annwn is from the Welsh annwfyn, meaning “very deep” or “not-world.” It exists beneath the world and connected with Taliesin’s inspiration. Haycock, Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin.

32. Preiddeu Annwfyn, “The Spoils of Annwn,” translated by the author.