Hearth:
The Welcoming Flame
Walls against the wind,
Roof against the rain,
Hearth to hold the fire,
And Brigid encompassing all.
Come close and be blessed at the hearth of Brigid. Here you will find nourishment of body and nurturance of spirit. Brigid encompasses, encircles, and protects with unceasing care. Just as the hearthfire is the heart of the home, Brigid is at the heart of daily life. From that glowing and comforting center of warmth, she will always welcome you home.
Céad Míle Fáilte:
A Hundred Thousand Welcomes
Both the yearning to wander and the yearning for home have always run deep within the Celtic soul. You can hear it in Celtic music that pulls at the heartstrings, a lonely melancholy that has no earthly cure, perhaps because it springs from the depths of ancestral longing. For a wanderer, the blessed return to the hearth is symbolized by the welcoming open door, light streaming forth.
The Door and the Threshold
The between-places, where you are neither in one place nor in the other, are special places of magic in Celtic spirituality. The threshold is such a place, marking the crossing-over between your home and the outside world. The door is the seal of this between-place, which you open and close at will. Making this everyday motion a conscious act of protection is merely a matter of shifting your awareness—and invoking Brigid. The doors of your home are symbolic of the threshold between this world and the Otherworld, between the seen and the unseen, between what is inside and what is outside, literally and metaphorically. Each time you pass over the threshold of a door, you are in that liminal between-place where magic happens.
Brigid is the guardian of the home, and the threshold is one of her power places. Saint Brigid, as you may recall, was born on the threshold of her mother’s cottage. The symbolism of this is twofold (at least!)—Brigid was born between the worlds as both human and goddess, and she was born between the domestic concerns of the home, which she would always bless, and the worldly concerns that would involve her in later life.
Doors that lead to and from the outside world are protective and enclosing. They are the gateways between what is your home and what is not your home. They keep out what is harmful and keep in what is beneficial and precious. Just as your parents would tell you to close the door so you didn’t let all the heat out, doors preserve the love and contentment that dwell in a house, while allowing loved ones to safely come and go. It is the nature of a doorway to act as a sort of force field, a place where what is on one side of the opening and what is on the other side meet and yet stay separate. It is a holy place, and the little rituals you perform at your front door are the beginning of asking Brigid to be present in every part of your domestic life.
Making your doorway a sanctified between-place can be as simple as touching an amulet or a blessing object, such as the Jewish tradition of the mezuzah, a small box mounted to the door frame containing a Torah verse that reminds the reader to love and serve God. Touching the mezuzah is an acknowledgment of these instructions and a tacit promise to respect them. You can adapt this custom to your devotions to Brigid by using symbols that represent her, such as a Brigid’s cross or a triskele (see page 59). Put a small dish of water at the doorway or a holy-water font that hangs on the wall (these can easily be found online and are available with Celtic designs). Dip a finger into the water and anoint yourself in the name of Brigid, goddess of the sacred wells. Touch your forehead with the water to awaken to spiritual awareness, touch your heart to expand the love you feel for your home and its inhabitants, and finally, anoint your hands to do Brigid’s work in the world with gratefulness. You can bless your guests in this way as they enter or invite them to bless themselves.
Another way to awaken your sense of the sacred is to ring a bell when you come in the front door. The use of bells has a venerable tradition in many cultures, ringing for protection, consecration, and celebration. Mundane uses for bells have the same common root: to get your attention. Bells summon children back to class, alert a shopkeeper to your presence, signal that the cookies are done, and remind you to put on your seatbelt. Each bell in your life says, “Stop what you’re doing for a moment and do something else.” And so it is with the threshold bell. It says that you are now entering a sanctuary, and your attention is required to honor that. On my front porch, I have a wheel of bells that chime delicately when the wheel is turned. Standing at the doorway until the last echo of the bells is gone roots me in understanding that my home is a blessing and I am honoring it with gratitude. Other sound-makers can speak to you in different ways—for instance, a door harp, with balls that bounce on small harp strings as the door is opened, sounds a delicate reminder that Brigid, goddess of the bard’s harp, is present in your home.
The Going Out and the Coming In
Here is a simple ritual to bless your threshold and all who pass through it.
Open your door and stand just inside it. Place your hands on either side of the door frame. Close your eyes.
Feel the empty between-place where you stand. Sense the liminal power that is contained within the frame of the portal. You are at the transition between here and there.
Feel the solidity of your home behind you. Feel the expansiveness of the world in front of you.
With your hands still on the door frame, imagine a golden light that emanates from the center of your chest. The light spreads outward until the entire between-place of the open door is glowing.
Feel the energy of the living light, the flame of Brigid that burns in your heart.
Offer this prayer:
The light of Brigid be about me
On my going out and on my coming in.
May she walk before me on every road.
May she stand behind me at every challenge.
May she hold the map of my journey
And bring me safely home at journey’s end.
When you are ready, open your eyes and gratefully close the door.
Sacred Hospitality
The Celtic tradition of sacred hospitality goes back many thousands of years. Perhaps it originated because the wandering tribal people remembered the welcome they received at some hearthfires and the rebuffs they suffered at others, and resolved that in their own halls there would always be a welcome for the stranger. Aristotle and Posidonius both wrote about the Celts’ strict rules of hospitality, especially to strangers. A householder was bound to offer food and drink even before finding out a visitor’s business. By Saint Brigid’s time, the custom of hospitality was deeply ingrained in the Celtic spirit. Brigid’s monastery at Kildare was a haven and sanctuary, a refuge that welcomed the sick, the poor, and fugitives from injustice.
Most of us don’t live with the open-door policy that was practiced by our Celtic ancestors. Too many of us have gone too far the other way, perhaps, and don’t even know our closest neighbors. But hospitality extends beyond mere socializing. Brigid invites you to examine your heart and see how welcoming you are, beyond practical and literal hospitality. To welcome others into your home as Brigid herself would welcome them means to have an open heart as well as an open door. The guest is sacred, a gift, a blessing. Saint Brigid was said to welcome every guest as if she or he were Jesus. We can welcome each guest as if she or he were Brigid.
While most casual comings and goings don’t really allow for formal blessings, make a point of centering yourself and consciously changing your internal attitude to one of true welcome when a guest arrives. As they cross the threshold, they will feel how you have imbued that between-space with magic. Beyond décor and architecture, people can really feel when a home is a sanctuary. It comes from those who live there and the spirit of sacred hospitality they honor.
In traditional Irish homes, when a guest arrived they were immediately shown to the hearthside and given the best seat there. Food and drink were offered before anything else was discussed, and a lapse in this was cause for shame. This tradition surely had spiritual connotations along with the practical ones. The goddess (or the saint) was present at the hearthfire, and the guest was invited to draw close to her presence and be blessed.
This practice is part of what you can do today—drawing guests in with true warmth and placing them at the heart of your home, wherever you feel that to be. Continue your welcome with nourishment offered in the spirit of Brigid, who never wants to see anyone hunger or thirst. Don’t ask if your guests want anything—we are all far too likely to say, “No, thank you.” Just give the offering and know it will be received at the spirit level, whether or not your guests actually eat or drink what you offer.
The spirit of sacred hospitality has to start with you. Do you feel that your home is a sanctuary? Do you feel the presence of Brigid there, warming and sustaining, strengthening and protecting? Part of the work of creating a home is internal and part is external. The externals have to do with removing irritations, such as clutter and noise, and adding things that please your senses. The internals are about moving past all of that, paradoxically, and loving your home exactly as it is. Being grateful for shelter is fundamental to worshiping Brigid.
Make Yourself at Home
Here are two good ways to feel at home in your home. The first is to have other people come visit, for an hour or a week or however long you enjoy having company. In parts of rural Ireland, an old custom continues of the cuaird, the “circuit.” On a designated night of the week, friends in the village have open house after dinner. It’s very informal—no invitations are necessary, no RSVP. You might receive visitors or you might choose to go visiting yourself. The lights in the windows let the visitors know whose houses are filled with friends that night. Once there, the informality continues—there are no elaborate refreshments, no planned activity, no agenda or expectations. The friends tell stories of their week or old stories from the past; a musician might be asked to bring out his fiddle. The community’s connectedness is woven more closely by this intimacy, as everyone is family.
Some of us had this kind of hangout scene when we were younger, but nowadays it is far more likely that we meet friends outside the home, when we meet with them at all, and it is an event, not a regular occurrence. In those rural Irish homes, there is often a spare chair that lives just inside the front door, symbolizing the welcome that any guest will meet if they wish to drop in and pull up the chair to the hearthfire. You might put such a chair by your own door to remind you of what a blessing it is to share your home warmth with others. Welcoming others into your home pleases Brigid no end, and you will feel that increase in happiness within the walls of your shelter.
The second good way to be at home in your home is to leave it for a time. Whether you’re coming home at the end of the workday or returning after a journey of many weeks, Brigid embraces you with a loving welcome as you cross the threshold. When you attune yourself to her welcome, it will continue to warm you. From that place of contentment, your gratitude for having such a welcoming home will grow—and the gratitude will enhance the contentment.
An Elemental Homecoming
Ask Brigid to help you feel at home in your home by creating an encircling knotwork of elemental blessing, using the Celtic triad of earth, sea, and sky. It combines the practical with the spiritual, as always with our dear Brigid.
Earth: Begin with the element of earth. Your home provides refuge from the stress of the outside world, and earth is present when you feel safe enough to relax. Like our ancestors retreating to their stone cottages, you should feel protected and secure in your home sanctuary. From this place of security, your spirit can comfortably ground itself in the bedrock of your well-being. Do an assessment of your home and see if you detect any ways in which you don’t feel safe or sheltered, perhaps at an unconscious level until now. For example, in one place where I lived, the front of the house was uncurtained glass, and the living room was partially visible to anyone walking by. The neighborhood was safe, and I felt no danger, so I only gave it a passing thought now and then in the five years I lived there. But when I moved to a place where I could draw the curtains and completely enclose myself, I immediately felt relief from the accumulated stress of being in the open all those years. Take care of any such vulnerabilities in your own home, and seal them with this prayer:
May Brigid’s blessings of earth be on this place:
Stability of mountain,
Rootedness of tree,
Abundance of grain,
Be with us this day and every day.
Sea: Next, invoke the element of water in your home. What does your spirit thirst for? Your home sanctuary should be an ever-renewing wellspring in which your heart can be restored to wholeness. If your emotional waters feel stagnant, call upon Brigid of the holy wells to help those waters run clear again. Most homes contain beloved mementos of dear ones and special times. Look around and see if there are also things that trigger a negative emotional response from you—a photograph of someone with whom you have unresolved issues, for example. While you will continue to heal past hurts with Brigid’s help, there is no reason to live with reminders every day. Put such objects gently away, with respect for their teachings. Replace them with things that tap into the boundless sea of joy, and affirm them with this prayer:
May Brigid’s blessings of sea be on this place:
Connection of currents,
Patience of tides,
Wisdom of depths,
Be with us this day and every day.
Sky: Air is the element of thought, ideas, and inspiration. Most homes have way too much air, metaphorically speaking. Books and magazines, music, games, television, smartphones, computers and tablets—all of these contribute to a cacophony of mind-numbing and soul-battering noise. If you want the wise voice of Brigid to be heard, you need to turn down the constant jabber of modern life, and home is one place where you have control of this. Pay attention to what you choose to let through the air filters of your mind. Ask yourself: Does this enhance my spirit? Does this excite my mind in a positive way? In your home sanctuary, you need both healthy mental stimulation and peace of mind. The element of sky gives your spirit wings to fly. As often as possible in every day, make some space in which to listen to the silence, and welcome it with this prayer:
May Brigid’s blessings of sky be on this place,
Inspiration of wind,
Beauty of cloud,
Vision of stars,
Be with us this day and every day.
The Place of Gathering
The traditional Irish home had its hearth at the exact center of the house. The room with the hearth was simply known as “the room,” and all other places in the home were referred to as above the room, behind the room, and so on. Every day began with gathering at the hearth for the morning meal, and every day ended with stories, music, and prayer at the hearthside. The fire there was tended all day long and smoored at night to preserve its embers—to start a fire from scratch takes more effort, not to mention the cold that creeps in when a fire has gone completely out. Keeping the fire alight was a matter of life and death, and without it the family could freeze or starve. No wonder their most beloved home guardian was she who sustained that fire and was present in its dancing light.
If you have a fireplace in your home, you already know about the magic of this timeless place of gathering. Gazing into the fire, feeding it, watching as it flares up and dies down, marveling at the mesmerizing sparkle of the embers—it is truly a blessing that should never be taken for granted. The spirit of all our ancestors lives on in that fire. I’m amused (and a bit appalled) at the current trend of putting a giant television right above the hearth, for what could ever compete with the enchantment of living flames?
I’ve lived in houses where a woodstove was the only source of heat, and it’s true that the romance of the flame is tested a bit when it has to be kept going for bodily warmth or to heat water. Our ancestors weren’t sentimental about the work that a hearthfire requires, both in tending the fire itself and in the gathering of fuel. While we can pick up a bundle of firewood at the grocery store, the cutting of wood was an ongoing task for those earlier people. And not just wood—in Ireland to this day, peat is cut from the bog turf and dried as fuel, a backbreaking job in the days before machines.
Though the hearthfire was a practical concern, our ancestors still looked on it in spiritual and magical terms. Precisely because it was such a vital part of every day, blessing and honoring the fire became second nature. There were prayers for stirring up the fire, for putting the fire to bed, for adding fuel and cutting fuel. One such prayer invokes “Brigid of the peat-heap,” acknowledging her gift of (and help with) this most beloved of fragrant fire fuels. An old Irish text specifies which woods are good for burning and which are not, describing each tree as having particular magical purposes. Here is a bit of it:
Burn not the precious apple tree of spreading and low-sweeping bough …
The noble willow burn not, a tree sacred to poems …
The graceful tree with the berries, the wizards’ tree, the rowan burn.8
But what about those of us who don’t have functional fireplaces? What then is the heart-center of the home? If you are a flamekeeper, you keep a devotional fire, but that serves a different purpose (which we’ll talk about later). The hearthfire is the gathering place, the settling place, where comfort is found and company is shared. As strange as it may sound, one such place in many homes is the coffee table. Cozy seating around a low central table where food and drink may be shared functions much as the hearth did in olden days. We may call it the living room now or the family room, but it is essentially “the room.” Make a place for fire on this central table, perhaps changing it with the seasons. This isn’t an altar, any more than the functional hearth of old was an altar, so you don’t need to be formal about it. Just invite Brigid to your gathering place. I have a round marble coffee table that was my mother’s, and in the center I have three pillar candles on a tray, with tiny river rocks surrounding them in the summer, acorns in autumn, and glittering branches in winter. In the spring, beginning at Imbolc, the candles stand on their own, pure and simple. When I light the candles in the evening, their living light brings Brigid’s peace to my gathering place.
The Roof and the Floor and All Between
In traditional Celtic folk customs, charms and superstitions are woven all through each day’s activities. With many little ways to incur bad luck, both in the house and outside, it’s no surprise that prayers for protection abound. My feeling about superstitions is they are closely akin to magical intuition—if you feel that something should be done in a certain way to align it with the correct functioning of the cosmos, then that is the correct way for you. Of course, if such beliefs become debilitating or fearful rather than enriching your life with enchantment, you need to get back into balance.
Protective prayers form a kind of force field against anything unwelcome. Many Celtic prayers use the image of encompassing and encircling, much the same as casting a magic circle in Wiccan and Pagan practices. A traditional Celtic charm for protection involves walking three times sunwise (clockwise) around the object to be protected while carrying “a burning brand”—a candle will do nicely. Begin and end in the south. This charm invokes Brigid both in the use of flame and in the powerful number three (see page 57). You can perform this simple protective blessing on anything, from people to possessions to pets, and expand it to include your whole house. If you can walk around your dwelling outside, do so, but if that’s not possible, just walk around each room three times in turn or, depending on your home’s layout, walk through the rooms in a loop three times. As you perform this charm, envision the flame making a trail of protective fire that encircles your dwelling with the protective power of Brigid.
I call for the encircling of Brigid:
Protect the house and all within,
Protect the house from beam to wall,
Protect the house and the household all,
The roof and the floor and all between.9
Brigid’s cross is her most well-known symbol, appearing in jewelry, artwork, and sculpture as well as the traditional rush weavings. Although it has been absorbed into devotions to Saint Brigid, this equal-armed cross has origins that go back far before Christianity. A 1952 Irish Catholic journal stated that “although they are called ‘crosses,’ it will be seen that several of the types have no elements of a cross at all and it is likely they represent a pagan custom Christianised by association with a saint.” 10 Brigid’s cross stands for the sun-wheel, a symbol of the light returning at Imbolc and the eternal cycle of the seasons. When it is hung in the home, it protects from fire, keeping that powerful element in balance and under the care of fire-goddess Brigid. It also symbolizes the four directions of before, behind, above, and below, placing the maker at the center of the sacred space as she weaves her protective charm. The symbolism of being centered in your spiritual life is affirmed—as Brigidine Sister Mary Minehan says, “When you’re making a Brigid’s cross, unless you keep the center together, the whole thing falls apart.” 11
The crosses are made on Imbolc night to greet Brigid as she passes each home, but they can be made anytime as a meditation on the intricate weavings of Brigid’s presence in your life. They are traditionally made of rushes. The symbolism for this may be drawn from the custom of laying rushes down in a birthing chamber. Rushes are therefore associated with Brigid as midwife and as the one who brings forth the birthing of spring. The rushes gathered for Brigid are pulled, not cut (another birthing metaphor, perhaps). Since rushes may not be convenient for you to gather, the instructions that follow are for crosses made of sparkly pipe cleaners (sometimes called tinsel stems, available at craft stores). Because they stay right where you want them when bent, pipe cleaners are a good choice for beginners. I also like pipe cleaners because they are made of wire, invoking Brigid as a goddess of metalcraft. Other shapes of “crosses,” such as one with three arms instead of four, can also be made. Do a web search to find instructions.
You will need:
36 pipe cleaners or more
String or wire
Scissors
Making a Brigid’s cross is easy to do, once you understand the central idea that you are folding each new “arm” over the ones that went before. In the following diagrams, the darker arm is always the active one. To begin, choose one pipe cleaner as the “anchor stem.”
Step 1: Bend or fold the first arm around the anchor stem at the center of the anchor.
Step 2: Take another pipe cleaner and bend it over the first arm, keeping it as close as possible to the anchor stem.
Step 3: Take another pipe cleaner and bend it over the arm you just added.
Step 4: Take another pipe cleaner and bend it over the last one.
Step 5: Add another pipe cleaner over the last one and alongside the first one, tucked as closely to it as possible.
As you can see, you are working your way around clockwise/sunwise. Once you get the rhythm down, the process can be trance-inducing. It can also be done merrily, singing or chanting as you weave your energy into each cross. Continue adding new arms as shown here.
Step 6: Stop when you feel your cross is complete. You may want to use twenty pipe cleaners—nineteen for the priestesses of Brigid who tended her flame and one for the Goddess herself. When you are done weaving, use string, ribbon, or wire to bind the ends (I just use another pipe cleaner), then trim them evenly. Hang the cross high in the house, above a door or from the eaves, and let it spin a protective blessing on your home and household.
Blessing the Herd
Domestic animals have always been under Brigid’s protection. From ancient days, the Celts were dependent on sheep, pigs, and cows for survival, and Brigid was invoked to “be on the herd” and keep them well. Most of us don’t keep such large animals these days, but our herd is just as precious to us—and to Brigid.
If you have a fireplace in your home, it’s the perfect place to make a small shrine to welcome Brigid as protector of cats and dogs, who so love the heat of the hearth. Use your creativity here—perhaps a Celtic-knotwork picture frame with a photo of your furry friends, or a Brigid’s cross tied with paw-print ribbons. If you don’t have an actual hearth, you can place protective symbols of Brigid near your animals’ food dishes or even on the food dishes themselves. Small pottery bowls with Celtic designs can be blessed to hold your cat’s food. Dogs are a little harder on dishes than most cats are, but you can draw symbols of Brigid’s protection (such as a triskele) or write prayers on the outside of any sturdy dish using a permanent marker.
Bless your animals’ sleeping areas too, whether it is an actual pet bed or just a favorite snoozing spot. Because our animals spend so much time sleeping, imbuing that spot with extra blessing energy will reinforce the protection every time they return there. Your animal has already made it their sanctuary, and a blessing invoking Brigid’s presence affirms that. Make the encircling by moving three times around the spot with a flame (if you can’t walk all the way around, simply move the flame itself over the spot three times), while saying this prayer:
May the encompassing of Brigid protect you,
May the encircling of Brigid keep you,
May the soft hand of Brigid soothe you,
May the eye of Brigid be ever on you,
To guard you and to cherish you,
For today, forever, for eternity.
Small, inexpensive Saint Brigid medals are easily found and can be added to a collar. There are many different designs. The one I like best for pet protection shows Brigid standing before a grove of trees with a contented cow at her feet. This medal usually has Patrick on the reverse, but if you’re persistent, you may find her on her own. Triskeles and other Celtic knotwork or spiral designs can be added to conventional pet tags and collars. Tiny Brigid’s cross charms are also widely available and could be added to a collar, though the pointed edges may annoy your cat more than the rounded medals. The important thing with any such charm is the intention you place on it. Find the symbol that speaks of protection to you. Ask Brigid to be present there, and she will be.
The following traditional blessing can be read over your animal companions to soothe and calm them in stressful times and to invoke Brigid’s healing when they are ill. Brigid may not have specifically mentioned your type of pet, but it surely falls under her care just the same.
The charm placed of Brigid
About her cows, about her kine,
About her horses, about her goats,
About her sheep, about her lambs:
To keep them from eye, to keep them from omen,
To keep them from spell, south and north,
To keep them from venom, east and west,
To keep them from envy and from wiles of the wicked,
To keep them from hound and from each other’s horns,
From the birds of the high moors and from the beasts of the hills,
To keep them from wolf, from ravaging dog,
To keep them from fox, from the swiftest of pursuers.12
Welcoming the Wee Folk
Brigid is a faery goddess. She is one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, the tribe of the goddess Danu who became the Sidhe, the faery folk. Some say that, in fact, Brigid is Danu, and that all of those with fae blood are her descendants. This is easy for me to believe—for all her practicality, Brigid is imbued with enchantment.
Celtic faery lore is vast, describing hundreds of types of faeries and otherworldly creatures and myriad tales of human encounters with them, both benevolent and malevolent. There are faeries who dwell in palaces deep within hollow hills, faeries who inhabit places in nature, and faeries who wander, sometimes posing a threat to travelers caught unawares. And then there are the domestic faeries, who cohabit with humans—sometimes by invitation and sometimes in a state of wary truce. These fae spirits are under Brigid’s keeping, as protectress of the home and all who dwell there, mortal and immortal, seen and unseen.
Much of Irish faery lore deals with troublesome faeries, and many of the charms for dealing with faeries are to ward them off. “But why would I do that?” you might ask. “I love faeries!” I can only reply that the Irish have perhaps the longest and most intimate connection with the fae, and they advise cautious respect. Such matters are not mere superstition in the Celtic culture. Faeries are as real as any other folk who cross your threshold. They do not live by human rules of proper behavior, and it’s wise to stay in their good graces. Ask Brigid to introduce you to some fae friends and to instruct you in the correct ways to honor and welcome them to your hearth.
One of the most delightful of the Irish wee folk is the Bean-Tighe, the faery housekeeper. The term bean-a-tighe means woman of the house, and her otherworldly counterpart helps the mortal bean-a-tighe by completing any chores that remain undone at the end of the day. Not every household is lucky enough to have one, but you can increase the likelihood of attracting a Bean-Tighe by leaving some strawberries and cream by the door on a summer’s evening. This small, round faery woman with her feather broom will come in and assess the situation to see if she is needed—she is especially likely to help spinsters and crones. If you feel the presence of a Bean-Tighe, be sure to thank her in your devotions. A tiny dish of milk placed by the hearth (and a ripe berry when they are in season) will also be appreciated.
Although the Bean-Tighe is always happy to offer assistance, not every faery is so obliging, and asking for faery help around the house can backfire, as in this tale:
One night after her husband and the rest of the household had gone to bed, a bean-a-tighe still sat at her spinning wheel, for she had fallen behind in her woolworking. She sighed and said, “Oh, that someone would come from land or sea, from far or near, to help me with this work!” No sooner had she spoken than there was a knock at the door, and a strange little woman all in green entered and without a word sat down at the spinning wheel. At once there was another knock, and another weird woman came in and began to card the unspun wool. Yet another knock, and another fae woman entered and began to weave the wool. The bean-a-tighe was grateful at first, but then another faery entered, and another, and another, until the room was filled with faeries all making a frightful din with their work.
The bean-a-tighe knew she must feed them all, out of courtesy for the guest, but no matter how hard she worked to keep the food coming, it was never enough for the faeries, whose appetites kept pace with their labors. The room was filling with spun wool and newmade cloth, more than could ever be used in a year or many years. The bean-a-tighe thanked the faeries and begged them to stop, but to no avail. She tried to wake her husband and household, but they were sleeping like stones and could not be moved. In desperation she ran from the house and shouted, “The faery hill is in red flames of fire! Dúnbhuilg is burning!” All the faery women rushed out to see, and as they went they cried:
My cheese and butter kegs,
My sons and daughters,
My oatmeal chests,
My comb and wool-cards, thread and distaff,
Cow and fetter, harrows and hoard,
And all the ground bursting,
My hammers and anvil!
Dúnbhuilg is on fire, and if Dúnbhuilg is burnt,
My pleasant occupations and merriments are gone!
As they fled toward the faery hill, the bean-a-tighe ran back inside, bolted the door, and turned everything the faeries had touched upside down to break the spell. When the faeries saw that their home wasn’t in danger, they returned and demanded admittance, but their enchantment had been undone. None of the items they had touched would answer their commands, except one little loaf of bread, which eagerly leaped up and made for the door when the faeries spoke to it. But the bean-a-tighe was too quick for it and popped it into the bread box, saying, “I made you for the service of the living, not the undying!” The faeries gave up and dispersed with the morning mists.13
I love this tale not only for its “sorcerer’s apprentice” whimsy, but also because its faeries and humans hold common things as valuable that are under Brigid’s care: the children, the cows and their dairy products, the sheep and their wool, the bounty of the land, the tools of metalwork—and most of all, the “pleasant occupations and merriments” of home. Here are a few ways to include the wee folk in your own occupations and merriments:
• When you are at home, play music that was inspired by the faeries. The music of the seventeenth-century Irish harper Turlough O’Carolan is said to actually be faery music. The poet Yeats wrote, “Carolan, the last of the Irish bards, slept on a rath [faery hill], and ever after the faery tunes ran in his head.” 14 O’Carolan surely knew and was inspired by Brigid—his father was a blacksmith, and even as a child Turlough had an exceptional gift for poetry. His beautiful harp melodies are widely available on CD and online.
• Offerings of any dairy products are always appreciated by the fae, and indeed, if you have a cow (or goat or sheep), the faeries may help themselves directly from the source. Because the fae are so fond of silver, I offer creamy gifts to them in a small silver bowl—it’s actually the bottom part of a silver tea strainer set. Find a wee dish that can hold your own offerings and place it by the hearth, at the back door, or near the kitchen stove. It doesn’t have to be silver; any material will do other than iron (or iron alloys) or rowan wood. Faeries tend to go a bit crazy for butter; if its theft is a problem in your home, put a pin in the butter and the faeries will leave it alone.
• If you are considering building a new house, make sure that your proposed site hasn’t already been claimed by faeries. Lay out a line of small stones aligned with the moonrise, and if the stones are undisturbed when you check them in the morning, the faeries have approved your plan. If the stones are in disarray, it’s best to find another location, or be prepared to appease your new fae neighbors with gifts for a long time to come! 15
• As beings who pass between the worlds, faeries love the liminal energies of between-places such as thresholds. If you are already asking for Brigid’s blessing at your doorway, add a welcome for her wee folk. Another place where faeries may linger is the garden gate. Leave offerings for the fae there—they particularly like to dance on the top of gateposts. Weave a garland of flowers, grasses, or berry sprays, and crown the gatepost to decorate their dancing space.16
By invoking and attending to the faery presence in your home, you will tune into magic that is always there for the taking. Invite their good company in your home, offer shelter and sustenance, and always remember, these are not cute or foolish children. These are immortals, of the tribe of Danu, and they know more about us than we will ever know about them. Speak respectfully of the wee folk, thank them for their help, and look for signs of their comings and goings. You are affirming that you have faery-faith, a belief in something beyond what can be fully explained by logic. Envision this faith as a rush of flying golden sparks rising from the steady flame that is Brigid. Follow its faery flight and see where it leads you.
Shrine and Altar
Your connection to Brigid takes place everywhere, in every moment of every day. But creating (and maintaining) places of worship at home is a particularly powerful and grounding way to stay in touch with her. It’s good to have places of your own where you can always return to your sacred center.
I differentiate between shrines and altars. A shrine is a bit more casual. Shrines hold images representing the deity or saint to whom they are dedicated, and devotees leave offerings, light candles, burn incense, and so on. Shrines can be approached by all respectful visitors, whether it’s a public shrine or a private home shrine. A shrine dedicated to Brigid is a reminder of her presence in your house. You might have artwork depicting her, crystals and stones that are associated with her energy, a small vessel of water or tabletop fountain to represent her sacred wells, and a flame of some kind. Flowers and other seasonal offerings speak of Brigid’s presence throughout the Wheel of the Year.
An altar may hold similar items, but generally speaking, an altar is a place where devotions and rituals are performed, and where you know you can communicate with Brigid because the connection is always active there. It’s your hotline to the Goddess. There’s something especially powerful about a place in your home where you only interact with the Divine. An altar has no other purpose.
For me, one of the hallmarks of an altar is that I am careful what I put on it. At my house, there is a table by the front door that has seasonal items, along with goddess images, cards from friends, and small objects that appeal to me for their beauty and symbolism. I light candles there to welcome guests. But I don’t consider it an altar. Why? Because I also toss my keys and purse and mail there. I don’t keep the space’s energy charged with magical intention, and I am casual about what I add to it. Sometimes, for special occasions, I do turn that table into a temporary altar. But in general, it is simply a table that has some spiritual objects on it, and I make that distinction.
Although I create sacred space throughout my house, I have one altar that functions solely as a place for focused spiritual practice, with no other use. When I come to this altar, no matter what else is going on in my chaotic world, I feel my spirit quieting. Any space that is maintained solely for spiritual pursuits is going to hold that energy, and you can step into it and be surrounded by its power and comfort.
If you already have an altar or shrine to Brigid, at least once a year (Imbolc is a good time) take everything off of it, and clean and bless the space. As you add objects back, touch and bless each one with your full attention. Don’t just slap those same old candleholders on the table—honor them, love them, really look at them. Remember where you got them, and what they mean to you, their associations and their symbolism. Do this for each item. Don’t add anything automatically or because it’s always been there. Sacred items have energy and a life of their own. Ask them—and ask Brigid—if they still belong on your altar, and if so, ask why. Listen for the answer.
If you feel the energy has become stagnant or dull at your altar, try something new—different symbols and objects, more ornate or more simple than you usually use. I have found that the most profoundly powerful altar can be a bare wooden surface and a single candle. In that utter simplicity, nothing will distract you from whatever Brigid wants you to hear.
Altars are very personal, and no one can tell you what you should or should not have on them—except right now, when I’m going to tell you. The one thing I believe every woman should have on her altar is a mirror. We have no problem saying to other women, “You are Goddess,” but far too many of us have trouble saying it to ourselves, and we need the practice. Brigid loves you unconditionally, and she will heal any wounds you may have in your own self-image. Make it part of your devotions to gaze into your own eyes. That light shining in their depths is Brigid’s flame.
Brigid in the Garden
Making sacred space outdoors invites all of nature to join you in your worship. Obviously, one of the best ways to welcome Brigid into your garden is to include some of the plants traditionally associated with her (see page 101). But let your creativity bloom! Perhaps a section of your garden could contain flowers in the colors of fire and with flame-shaped blossoms. Celosia, for example, has flower heads that rise to a point like flames; its name comes from the Greek for “burned.” Or try the stunning flame lily—its six flame-shaped petals rise from their base in colors that move from gold to red and seem to flicker upon the breeze. Pay homage to Brigid with a garden aglow with flower-fire!
Water is essential for your garden’s well-being, and it is evocative of Brigid’s presence as lady of the holy wells. Fountains and ponds are wonderful additions to your garden, but simple birdbaths and bowls invoke her too. You can find ceramic or cast-cement birdbaths that have Celtic designs—listen to your intuition for what feels right for your own garden devotions. Place your chosen vessel in a place where you can sit beside it and gaze into the waters. Shining stones or glass pebbles in the depths enhance the sparkle of sunlight on the surface. In Celtic spirituality, a symbolic well (or hill, or stone, or tree) connects energetically to holy sites—your simple bowl of water becomes one with Brigid’s wells at Kildare and Liscannor and everywhere else where her sacred waters run. Here you can ask for healing and offer your prayers for the healing of others. Your blessings are added to the collective blessings offered at sacred sites around the world.
Brigid is a goddess of light and music, and she would love some light-catchers and wind chimes in your outdoor space. Bring in whatever garden elements summon the sacred to your mind and spirit. I have a statue in the center of my garden that the sculptor intended to be Mary, but for me the flowing mantle, the hands outstretched in blessing, and the peaceful gaze all speak of Brigid. Whether you are making sacred space indoors or out, remember to expand your horizons to find sacred items from other faiths and cultures that also work for Brigid. It’s a way of forging bridges of understanding, even if no one knows it but you.
A lovely way to use your outdoor space for devotions is with prayer stones, set out in a pattern so you can walk from one to the next. These could be flat stepping stones or larger upright stones. At Solas Bhríde in Kildare, the Brigidine Sisters have created a pilgrimage walk with five such stones. At each of the stones an aspect of Brigid is honored and prayers are offered.
• The first stone: Brigid of the land, Brigid the earth-woman
• The second stone: Brigid the peacemaker
• The third stone: Brigid the hearth-woman, Brigid of hospitality
• The fourth stone: Brigid the healer
• The fifth stone: Brigid the champion of the poor
The Solas Bhríde walk culminates at Brigid’s Well. Create your own walk that leads to a place of contemplation in your garden or a circular walk that can be done repeatedly, such as three stones walked three times.
In addition to creating sacred places for Brigid in and around your home, brainstorm on a larger scale too. You can honor Brigid by contributing to (and participating in) tree planting, community gardens, and the preservation of sacred places and archaeological sites.
Gairdín Bhríde: Brigit’s Garden
Jenny Beale
Jenny Beale is the founder and director
of Brigit’s Garden in the West of Ireland.
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I had a dream to make a meditation garden in Connemara, one that drew on the wonderful old Celtic wisdom but blended it with contemporary design to make a place that speaks to us in the twenty-first century. The vision was to create a very special and beautiful garden, where people could find peace and tranquility and reconnect with nature. Celtic spirituality and the Brigit tradition are rich in stories and symbolism that connect us to the natural world. For instance, the Celtic seasonal festivals of Samhain, Imbolc, Bealtaine, and Lughnasa not only mark the start of each season and reflect the agricultural year but also symbolise the cycle of life. This cycle can be a powerful tool for reflection as well as a way of finding a deeper level of connection with nature.
I was introduced to Brigit at wonderful weekends celebrating the festival of Brigit in the west of Ireland in the mid-1990s, where women from all walks of life who were into Brigit as saint or goddess came together to share ritual, music, and song, to celebrate and explore the relevance of the Brigit tradition today. They were rich and inspiring experiences—and once the idea of the garden came to me, it had to be Brigit’s Garden.
The Imbolc Garden is all about the stories and symbols of Brigit, but for me personally my favourite parts of the garden are wild areas with old hazel trees and mossy boulders which have a sense of ancient presence and the deep spirit of nature. We always celebrate Brigit’s Eve with ritual, making Brigit’s crosses and putting out the Brat Bhríde, and we also have a family afternoon when people can make crosses and enjoy traditional music. In 2014 we had our first international Brigit gathering with participants from North America and Scandinavia as well as all over Ireland. It was a wonderful and magical weekend. At that weekend we had a keynote address from Brigit scholar Mary Condren, author of The Serpent and the Goddess: Women, Religion, and Power in Celtic Ireland, who gave a fascinating talk about how Brigit is present in different forms in each of the Celtic festivals. So in that sense we are celebrating her at Bealtaine, Lughnasa, and Samhain also.
It is very important to me that Brigit’s Garden is a not-for-profit project and a recognized charity. It is a resource for the community and a place for everyone, from the very young to the elderly, women and men, and people from all over the world. I hope that everyone who comes experiences some sense of connection—connection with nature, with the Celtic spirit, and with the people who work here and provide the hospitality. We aim to give everyone who comes here a warm personal welcome, and the garden itself is a very welcoming, relaxing place.
The experience of turning the vision of the garden into an actual place was a long and humbling journey, full of what I came to call “Brigit’s luck.” It was as if the project had a flow of its own, and my job was to tune into it and facilitate what needed to be done. If I imposed too much of my own agenda, things didn’t work out so well. If I went with the flow, there were lots of synchronicities, from getting three adjoining pieces of land with an old ring fort in the middle, to sourcing standing stones and finding the right designer, or getting unexpected financial help when it was needed. It’s still the same today, as Brigit’s Garden continues to develop and change. If we keep Brigit at the centre of what we do, things always work out.
For more about Jenny, see the Contributors appendix.
Brigid in the Kitchen
Brigid, bless the things I create
And the things I did not create:
Honey from the hive,
Milk from the cow,
Salt from the sea.
Providing abundant food has always been one of Brigid’s primary concerns. We can see this in the tales of Saint Brigid’s food miracles, but it goes back much further: buried offerings of milk and butter vessels have been found in the bogs of Ireland and Scotland. We can’t know for sure what these offerings meant to the people who buried them, but their very presence indicates a connection between the earthly body and the otherworldly realm—and the goddess who brings the milk and butter.
Remind yourself of Brigid’s presence in your kitchen by making a shrine for her there. Having a shrine in your kitchen may strike you as too casual or even disrespectful, as the kitchen is often the place where we display our most lighthearted décor. But remember that Brigid doesn’t demand solemnity in her worship, only love. She is a goddess who rolls up her sleeves and sets things to rights, and she is a goddess who loves laughter, music, and feasting. Traditional Celtic faith is practiced in every part of daily life, and nothing is more sacred than food. Every activity connected to food was blessed and prayed over, from sowing to reaping to baking to eating. Brigid will get along just fine with your collection of ceramic pigs.
One of my favorite books is Rumer Godden’s The Kitchen Madonna, which tells of the creation of a kitchen shrine for a homesick cook. The house just wasn’t home to her until the kitchen had a “good place” where the sacred feminine was honored. Where in your own kitchen could you make a good place to honor Brigid? It doesn’t take much space to accomplish this—all you need is a reminder that your activities there are worshipful and that what you put into the food you prepare is what you will get out of it. A simple icon (see page 154 for some ideas), a plaque with a favorite prayer, a small shelf where a candle can be lit, a windowsill with a light-catcher that has a Celtic design, a prayer card to Saint Brigid—use your creativity to honor Brigid in the kitchen. Be sure to keep the shrine active by making additions and offerings there from time to time, and set a regular time (perhaps once a month or on the Celtic holidays) to thoroughly clean it.
Your Kitchen Hearth
When our ancestors worshiped Brigid as goddess of the hearth, they only had one hearth in mind. The fire at the center of the home provided physical warmth and social warmth—and, of course, it also cooked their food. Today, whether or not you have a fireplace in your home, you do have a hearth where Brigid is present every day: your stove. It doesn’t matter whether your stove is gas or electric—Brigid’s warming fire is present in both. This simple ceremony affirms that.
1. Prepare by cleaning your stove until you feel satisfied. I say this because you may or may not wish to completely clean your oven and broiler, but you need to feel good about that decision. Doing any kind of ritual is all about the energy you put into it, and if you are doubting yourself or feeling squirrelly about having done a less thorough job than Brigid wants, you should just wait until a day when you can give it your all.
2. When the stove is clean, place your hands on the stovetop and invite Brigid to bless it:
Brigid of the hearth flame, Brigid of brightness,
Brigid of the hearth flame, Brigid of warmth:
Be on this cook place, be on the food,
Be on the spoon that stirs it and on the one who stirs,
This day and every day, this night and every night.
3. Taking your hands off the stove now, light each burner, starting with the lower left and going sunwise (clockwise), then turn on the oven. Keep each unit on low—you’re going to be here for a little while and you don’t want to bake.
4. Stand before the stove and close your eyes, feeling the heat, letting it warm you just as a hearthfire would. Envision Brigid’s fiery presence encompassing you and the heart of your kitchen.
5. Now imagine a stove from a hundred years ago and the women who cooked there. Visualize the lighting of that stove, the work of making food. Then go back another hundred years, and visualize the stove or hearth where food was cooked, the heat, the flame, the pots, the labor, the food gratefully received at the end of a long working day.
6. Keep making jumps back in time, as far as Brigid inspires you to go. At each point in time, see the sacredness of preparing food, the holiness of receiving it.
7. When you’ve reached what feels like a stopping place in your visualizing, see that oldest cooking place clearly, and envision Brigid there. She has always been present. She is present still. With your eyes still closed, hold your hands up before you, palms toward the heat of your stove, and feel the connection over the ages with all the women who have stood before their stoves and hearths and felt Brigid’s presence.
8. Linger as long as you wish. Then turn off the oven and the burners in the same order, beginning with the lower left and moving sunwise (you are not closing down the energy or dispersing it, as you would if you moved in the opposite direction). From now on, whenever you turn on a burner or the oven, envision Brigid as the source of the heat, the fire coming from her hands and heart to yours as you feed yourself and your loved ones.
Any household task can be made more meaningful by thinking back to how our foremothers performed the same task. Brigid’s domestic worship has never been interrupted, and this kind of visioning will always invoke her presence in your home.
Brigid’s Pantry
There are many foods associated with Brigid, among them blackberries, honey, salmon and other fish, hazelnuts, oatmeal, bacon, beer, and dairy products. Books often say that such-and-such is sacred to Brigid, but they don’t often say why. Some connections are obvious, such as milk and butter for she who protects the cattle. There are dozens of food-related tales of Saint Brigid, such as the time she wished for honey and magical bees suddenly appeared to fulfill her wish. (They appeared under the floorboards, by the way, so it’s also a cautionary tale about being specific with your wishes.) But in many cases we need to use our intuition to discern why a food is Brigid’s. Oats, for example, are symbolic of fertility in many traditions, but Brigid really isn’t a fertility goddess as such—at least, not for humans! What she is, though, is a goddess of nourishment. She ensures that her people have good food and plenty of it, and therefore she blesses the humble pot of porridge simmering over her hearthfire.
Enjoying her favorite foods is another way of welcoming Brigid into your home. Here are a few you may want to try.
A Bit o’ Blessed Butter
One of my earliest memories is my kindergarten teacher showing the class how to make butter from scratch. My memory is that it was the very first day of school, and if so, I salute that teacher for handing a lot of strange five-year-olds baby-food jars filled with cream. In any case, what I do remember clearly is the taste of that butter. My mother was a margarine girl, so this was probably my first experience of the real thing. Spread on a saltine cracker, the fresh new butter was the best thing I had ever eaten. Brigid was undoubtedly smiling on me.
Brigid is the provider of all dairy products, but butter may just be her favorite. Remember how Saint Brigid did that trick with the magical never-ending butter when her domestic powers were doubted? In the traditional Celtic household, the bean-a-tighe (woman of the house) was always in charge of butter-making, an important domestic art. When a bride entered her new home for the first time, her mother-in-law presented her with the fire tongs, as mistress of the hearth, and the churn-dash, as mistress of the butter. Brigid, mistress of both, was present in these gifts.
Fire and butter-making seem an unlikely pairing, but charms to help the churning included keeping the tongs in the fire and not taking any fire or ashes out of the house until the butter was successfully finished. The churn itself was protected from faery enchantment by a pattern of iron nails or a branch of rowan bound around it. Yet sometimes no matter how diligently she churned, the bean-a-tighe just could not make the butter come, perhaps because the disgruntled house faeries had not been given their share. Then Brigid was called upon in a charm repeated while churning:
Come, thou Brigid, goddess calm,
Hasten the butter on the cream,
Thou who bless my hearth and home,
From humble floor to high roof beam:
Come, ye rich lumps, come!
Thou who put light in moon and sun,
Thou who put fish in stream and sea,
Thou who put food in flock and herd,
Send sweet butter now to me! 17
Making fresh butter offers you two opportunities to honor Brigid: in the making and in the eating. Small hand-cranked or electric butter churns are available for sale if you want to make this a regular ritual, and you can also easily make butter using a mixer or food processor (search online for instructions). But you can make a small batch using nothing more than a jar, a strainer, and strong wrists.
You will need:
1 cup heavy cream, preferably organic
Salt (optional, add when the butter-making is finished)
A lidded jar (2-cup capacity or larger)
A fine colander or strainer
Pour the cream into the jar and let it stand until it reaches room temperature (don’t rush; this could take 2–4 hours). When you are ready to begin, invoke Brigid to bless your task, then shake the jar. And shake it. And shake some more! The process time can vary; butter comes when it is ready, as any bean-a-tighe could tell you. Be sure to chant the charm, and promise to give your house faeries some when you’re done.
The cream will go through stages of thickening and then separating into butter and buttermilk. When you see a thinner liquid start to pull away from the solids, carefully pour it off, using the strainer to catch any of the rich lumps you’ve been chanting for. Shake again until the butter has fully come and you don’t see any more change happening. Pour off all remaining buttermilk and transfer your butter to a bowl. Gently add ice-cold water to wash the butter, and strain it again. Do this two or three times until the buttermilk is all washed away and the water runs clear. (You can skip this step if you’re going to eat it right away.) One cup of cream yields half a cup of butter. Gaze proudly upon your creamy creation, and give thanks to Brigid for all her delicious gifts!
Anraith Prátaí do Bríd: Potato Soup for Brigid
The ancient Celts didn’t have the potato—it was introduced in Ireland from the New World around the sixteenth century. But once established there, it became the primary foodstuff for country folk. It grew prolifically even in poor soil, and a small potato patch could feed a family enough to survive on. So dependent were they on potatoes for survival that when the Great Blight in 1845–52 wiped out most of the potato crops in Ireland, more than a million people died of starvation and disease, and several million desperately emigrated to America and other places. Surely their prayers to Brigid wrung her heart during those terrible times.
In our own time, many of us are blessed with an abundance of food and need not fear starvation. But this simple soup, made with some of Brigid’s favorite ingredients, reminds us of how little we really need to be content and comfortable. It’s a great soup to include in a soup supper, where friends each bring a different soup, thus multiplying the blessings of sustenance, hospitality, and love. Brigid would definitely approve.
You will need:
4 tablespoons butter
3 large leeks, washed and sliced, white part only (a little green is fine)
3 or 4 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 quart chicken broth (water or vegetable broth can be used instead)
½ cup half-and-half
6 slices lean bacon, cooked until crisp and crumbled (optional)
Fresh chives, finely chopped or snipped
Salt and pepper
1. Melt the butter in a soup pot over medium-low heat. Add the leeks and cook until they start to soften. Keep an eye on them and stir often. You don’t want the leeks or the butter to brown.
2. Add the potatoes and the broth or water. Turn the heat up and bring to a simmer. Cook until the potatoes are soft and start to fall apart.
3. Using a potato masher or just a fork, mash some of the potatoes to thicken the soup. If you prefer it completely smooth, you can puree the whole thing. I like some lovely potato lumps in mine.
4. Add the half-and-half. Half a cup is just a suggestion—add it until the soup is the consistency you want. Add the bacon (if desired) and chives. Simmer until the soup is hot again, then season with salt and pepper to taste.
This soup is similar in spirit to colcannon, a popular Irish dish eaten at Samhain, which is made with mashed potatoes, cabbage or kale, leeks or scallions, milk and butter, and sometimes bacon. Because Brigid is a practical goddess, she wants you to adapt this humble country soup to suit what you have on hand. If you don’t have Yukon Gold potatoes, use regular potatoes and increase the butter a bit to make the flavor richer. If you don’t have leeks, use onions or scallions. If you don’t have half-and-half, use cream or milk—you get the idea. Receive the simple gifts of the land with gratitude and use them with love.
This is a sweet summertime treat with a relaxed attitude and flexible measurements. It uses three foods sacred to Brigid: oats, butter, and blackberries. Blackberry, with its brambles and its rampant growth, symbolizes the tenacity and endurance of Brigid—she who held the hearts of the people through centuries of changes with her strong sweetness intact.18
You will need:
Blackberries
White sugar (optional)
Flour (can be omitted for a gluten-free crumble)
Cinnamon (optional)
Old-fashioned rolled oats
Brown sugar
Butter, softened
A shallow baking dish and a mixing bowl
You’ll notice I haven’t given specific measurements for the ingredients. This is a true bean-a-tighe recipe, making use of what’s at hand and using the common sense Brigid gave you. Here are the steps:
1. Preheat your oven to 350˚F.
2. Pick over your blackberries for bits of leaf or anything else you don’t want in your dessert. Do not wash the berries! Washing makes berries mushy and waterlogged.
3. Put your berries in the baking dish. The amount of berries you have will determine what size baking dish you need. What you want is a layer of berries about 2 inches deep.
4. Sprinkle a bit of white sugar over your blackberries and about a tablespoon of flour. Add a dash or two of cinnamon if you wish. Gently mix with your hands. You can skip this step if your berries are sweet enough for you and if you don’t want to use flour.
5. In the bowl, mix a measure of oats with half a measure of sugar and a quarter measure of flour. For example: 1 cup oats + ½ cup brown sugar + ¼ cup flour. Don’t feel you need to get out the measuring cups for this—the recipe is very forgiving, and you can approximate everything and always end up with deliciousness.
6. Using your hands, gradually add softened butter to this mixture until the dry ingredients feel well incorporated. Again, the amount will vary, but if you use 1 cup of oats, it will be about 1 stick (½ cup) of butter. More butter is always good! Distribute the crumble topping over the berries.
7. Bake for about 30 minutes, until the berries are bubbling and the topping is golden. Baking time will vary depending on how big your dish is, so keep an eye on it.
8. Let the finished crumble rest for at least 20 minutes. The blackberry filling will thicken slightly during this time and make it all the more delectable. You can use the time to whip some cream to accompany it!
Brigid’s Brew
Brigid is associated with beer through her clan, the Tuatha Dé Danann, among whose gifts to humankind was ale of such sublime quality that to drink it was to achieve immortality. Saint Brigid’s tales overflow with ale—literally—as she transformed well water and her own bathwater into beer, and on at least one occasion magically created enough for seventeen churches’ celebrations out of ingredients that should barely have made one household’s ration. She was also known for withholding beer from those whose greed and selfishness displeased her. She would change water into beer for the poor, and beer into plain water for the high and mighty who refused to care for them.
This hot brew for Brigid honors her as goddess of the hearth. The stout takes on a smooth, burnt-caramel flavor.
You will need:
Guinness stout or some other stout/porter you enjoy (look for seasonal treats like pumpkin stout)
A sturdy mug that can tolerate a very hot beverage
A fireplace with a good fire going
A clean iron poker
1. Pour your stout into the mug, leaving an inch or more at the top. Place the mug on a plate or pan in case of overflow.
2. Heat the tip of the poker in the heart of the fire until it is red-hot, then plunge it into the stout.
3. Iron + Fire + Beer = Brigid! Add an Irish drinking song to make the magic complete.
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Make an effort to cook something every day, no matter how busy you are. This is the most basic fire magic, ancient and powerful. The act of preparing and consuming food invokes fire twice: once when you cook it and again when your body transforms it into energy. Many people eat their meals away from home most of the time or grab something on the run. Even making a cup of tea or a piece of toast affirms your power to control and move energy in a fiery way, and it honors Brigid as the source of that power. This creative energy ignites other dim corners of your spirit as well.
This Day and Every Day
Celtic prayers and blessings often include the phrase “this day and every day, this night and every night.” I love this way of expanding the sacred present moment into all the moments to come. All the activities and experiences of the day, all the mysteries and magic of the night, are under the care of Brigid. This is a truth that is never-changing. What changes is our perception, which wavers and flickers like a flame in the wind.
Living a spiritual and magical life comes down to two simple and profound elements: attention and intention. If you pour yourself a cup of coffee while reading your email and drink it without really tasting it, it will still warm you and give you a lift. If you take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the cup, the scent of the coffee, the pattern of the waft of steam arising from the surface, and the sensation of the liquid as it moves down your throat and becomes part of your body, you are moving in the direction of devotion. Whether you say the words or not, you are making your prayer: Thank you, Brigid, for the blessings of pure water and fire to heat it and the knowledge of your presence. Thank you, Goddess, for this quiet moment.
Now add intention to your attention. Your mundane intention is probably to wake up a bit through the judicious use of caffeine, but you can add a higher intention. Invoke Brigid’s presence as you drink your brew and ask that it awaken your creativity, inspire you with eloquence, or help you focus on the day’s tasks ahead. You can do this with any and all undertakings of an average (or exceptional!) day. Ask Brigid to help you sanctify tasks that can be humdrum at best and tedious at worst. As an example, let’s clean your house!
Brigid’s Broom: Mindful Housecleaning
Begin by focusing your attention and intention as you gather your cleaning tools. The broom, the feather duster, the sponge, the vacuum cleaner—your intention flows from your heart and mind, through your arms and hands, through the tool, and into your home, making it sacred space where Brigid dwells. Engage your senses. Do you like the scent of your cleansers? Are you comfortable with their impact on the environment? What about the color of your sponges? What can that symbolize for you—the rosy pink of happiness, the green of healing, the white of purification? Dedicate your intention to make your cleaning activities purposeful on a spiritual level as well as a practical level.
When you put your full attention and intention on the tasks of cleaning and washing, you are charging those acts with your devotion. The Celtic belief in everyday magic can be powerfully present within the walls of your home. Like the act of “programming” a crystal or empowering a ceremonial tool, you can charge the armchair to hold you close with love, the plate to bless your food with healing, the rug to energize you as you walk upon it. This may sound a bit Disney-esque, but why not? If it makes your life richer to believe your teapot loves you back, do it!
Begin at your front door. Wash the woodwork, polish the doorknobs, sweep the threshold. Renew and refresh any blessing and welcoming items you may have here at the passage from one realm to the next. Wash all the doors in the house in the same focused way. Meditate as you do so on the sacred nature of doors and thresholds, and Brigid’s powers there: opening, enclosing, welcoming, protecting.
Now move to your windows. In cleaning them, give thanks for vision, for clarity, for perspective, for freedom. Give thanks for the view from the window, whatever it is. Think of those who are imprisoned and have no view, and remember that Brigid comforts the oppressed. Find something to love, some lesson, in each picture framed within each of your windows.
As you continue to move through your rooms—tidying, organizing, discarding, preserving—hold the intention that you are claiming every element of your home as sacred. Not just the candles and the icons but also the cutting board and the computer screen. What miracles of nourishment and connection are wrought through these tools! Feel the warm embrace of Brigid’s cloak in cotton sheets just out of the dryer, crackling with fiery sparks of energy and folded with blessed intent. Those sheets will foster deep dreaming.
Can you see how this is sacred work? What a blessing to have a home to clean! What bliss, what incredible luck to have a bed to make cozy and welcoming, a kitchen that can get messy with the glorious chaos of preparing a feast. This is Brigid working through you to brighten every task with joy and with gratitude for your prosperity.
This Night and Every Night
Every Celt knows that nighttime is when spirits and supernatural beings are abroad. This world and the Otherworld occupy the same space, and we coexist peacefully with these (mostly) unseen ones as long as we maintain a respectful awareness of the proper rules of conduct. Country Celts stayed inside at night, or if they did go out, they didn’t go alone. In our modern world, we think we have conquered the night, but its mysteries and powers remain fully intact. We are not so far removed from our ancestors, after all.
The ancient Celts invoked Brigid’s protection against demons. Today when we speak of demons we are usually talking about the ones on the inside—demons of doubt, guilt, fear. We invoke Brigid for all manner of protection, but sometimes we just need her to dispel our demons. Worries about money, health, aging, and other basic survival issues can create an overall feeling of being ill at ease. Or your fear may not be even that defined, but just an underlying anxiousness. Women in particular are very good at taking an emotion and finding many reasons why it’s valid—there’s always something to worry about! It can be hard to see a way toward solutions when fear has you in its grip, and the darkness can bring a sense of vulnerability to those demons.
Shutting out the night from any dangerous intrusion falls under Brigid’s purview. Many traditional prayers and charms deal specifically with the night hours, and blessings for protection abound.
Be the encompassing of Brigid around me
From every spectre, from every evil,
From every shade that is coming harmfully
In darkness, in power to hurt.
Be the encompassing of the strength of Brigid
Shielding me from every harm,
Be keeping me from everything ruinous
Coming destructively toward me this night.19
The otherworldly beings are often named in detail, as if avoiding any loophole that might let some bold ghoulie or ghostie or long-leggedy beastie slip in. If you want to be specific, here are some you want to avoid on the road at night and definitely do not want wandering through your home uninvited:
Be the encompassing of Brigid around me
From every firbolg and Formorian,
From all ballybogs and buachailleens,
From howlers and the Hag of the Dribble,
From púca and from Fin Bheara,
King of the Faery Dead.
A simple ritual of night shielding is to turn off the lights, light a candle, and carry it from window to window, seeing the flame in the dark mirror of the glass. This is Brigid’s protection shining bright. Now that what’s supposed to be inside is in and what’s supposed to stay outside is out, it’s bedtime!
Smooring the Fire
In olden times, when the fire at the center of a home was essential for cooking as well as life-sustaining warmth, the hearth would be banked with coals and covered over with fine ash before the household went to bed. This ensured that it would smolder through the night and not need to be restarted from nothing in the morning. A quick stirring of last night’s coals would provide a start for the peat or kindling of the new day’s fire. This act of putting the hearth to bed is called smooring.
Most of us don’t depend on fire for cooking or heat on a daily basis, but smooring serves a ceremonial function. It invokes Brigid’s blessing on your home and those who dwell within, entrusting their well-being and sustenance to her care. Performing a smooring at the end of the day connects you to all your foremothers at their hearthfires. It can be part of your bedtime devotions or an offering of gratefulness after the evening meal as you turn off the oven and stove and finish cooking for the day. Here is a traditional prayer:
I will smoor the hearth
As Brigid herself would smoor.
In the name of Brigid:
Be on the hearth,
Be on the herd,
Be on the household all.20
As I recite this prayer, I reach out to feel the presence of Brigid, to connect with the words and understand what it means to smoor “as Brigid herself would smoor”—with love, with intention, with strength. With the words “be on the hearth,” I spread my arms wide as I envision her blessing flowing around my home in a protective encircling, Brigid wrapping her cloak around my house and all that is within. The “herd” is just one small cat, but he receives Brigid’s blessing all the same, and then I extend that blessing to all animals, especially the neighborhood feral cats. I live alone, so the “household all” is me and any friends I welcome into my home. When the prayer is complete, my inner hearth of devotion has been banked and protected against the darkness and the cold. Smooring affirms that the eternal fire endures even when tangible flames are extinguished.
8. O’Grady, Silva Gadelica.
9 . Adapted from traditional prayers.
10. Lucas, “St. Brigid in Tradition and Art.”
11. Interview with Sr. Mary Minehan by Melissa Thompson.
12. Adapted from Carmina Gadelica, 368.
13. Story retold by author and verse taken whole from Campbell, Waifs and Strays of Celtic Tradition.
14. Yeats, Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry.
15. Evans, Irish Folk Ways.
16. Ibid.
17. Adapted from Carmina Gadelica.
18. An interesting Irish legend about blackberries is that you should not eat any that were picked after Samhain because the Púca—a shapeshifting faery—despoils them as he passes. There aren’t many berries left by then, so it may be moot, but I thought I should warn you nonetheless!
19. Adapted from Carmina Gadelica.
20. Adapted from Carmina Gadelica, 323.