Alban Eilir.
The balancing point of light and dark.
The gateway from the dark half of the year to the light half of the year.
The time of the maiden, as she walks amongst us, giving us seeds and turning the land to green again.
I invite you now, to spend a minute or two thinking about how the divine feminine is represented through our rituals following the wheel of the year.
I've spent time thinking about this, and I've found my inspiration coming thick and strong from a source I had not considered before, and as I've delved deeper and deeper into it, the inspiration gets stronger and stronger, to the point where I can see it in the land around me and in the cold wind that swirls the newly falling snow around me.
You know, we have this every year, the transition from the dark half of the year into the light half. From winter into summer. We like to think of it as the days getting longer, the earth warming up, life slowly coming back. You know, gradual and gentle. But it isnt like that. Each year we have an 'unexpected' cold snap. Spring seems to start and then we lurch right back into winter again. I'm telling you -its a battle!
In the 1800's before the Mabinogion was collected together and published, just in the footnotes, Lady Charlotte Guest wrote something about the Battle of Achren. And then it disappears.
It appears again and is expanded by Robert Graves in his book 'The White Goddess'.
So heres the jist of it. On one level, the Battle of Achren is a battle between the underworld and middle world. Between dark and light. On another level it is a battle between the old gods and the new gods. On another level it is a battle between trees - with Alder on one side and Ash on the other. On another level it is the battle between winter and summer, reaching its bloodiest at the equinox.
Alder on one side, Ash on the other. The annoying thing here is that I want to quote something but I cant find it anywhere. According to the internet, Alder and Ash feature in Scandinavian creation myths, where the first man and woman are made each out of one of the woods, different sources give a different tree for each sex and I couldnt find the actual myth, just references to it, but if we take this into account, it also represents a battle between masculine on one side and feminine on the other.
Robert Graves says about the battle of Achren – “In ancient
times, to know the names of the enemies gods was to be able to summon them and
fight a battle of a different kind. In the battle of Achren, there was a man on
one side and a woman on the other, who unless their names were known, could not
be overcome”
Two old men meet for a game of wits, their movements mirror those of gods, each trying to outwit the other, playing a guessing game, they are directing an ethereal battle which affects us all on here. Each knows that the other has a piece of vital information that must be guessed, and once it is revealed it will allow the leader of a mighty army to deliver the fatal massive blow that will end the battle.
And here we all are with this bloody battle going on around us - dark/winter pitched against light/summer. One side gains the advantage, and then it swings the other way. Sunshine and birdsong one day, snow, sleet and biting wind the next. This is real. This is how it is.
As the days get longer the intensity of the battle increases. Winter knows it is losing ground, so it throws as much as it can against the oncoming Summer. One by one its warriors fall, their blood soaking into the ground. Losses are equally as heavy on the light side too, they are fighting with all they have, neither side will give in until they are down to their last man. Or woman.
Each side has one fierce warrior who cannot be defeated. They fight the hardest and the longest, and they show no mercy. On one side is a man, on the other a woman. Alder and Ash. They only have one weak point - their name, which is kept secret. Until their name is guessed, they are unbeatable and they battle on and on as their comrades lie bloody and dead or injured around them,
Alder holds the land of the dead, As his warriors fall and are trampled as a bloody mass into the ground, their numbers decrease, but there is no giving in, and he summons more to rise and fight, calling up the dead and demons to come and hold their ground.
Ash holds the land of the living. As her warriors fall and lie dying she knows she cannot give in. Behind her the land is alive, there are uncountable births and beginnings waiting on her success. Each of her fallen warriors will be replaced by a new, fresh life, they all depend on her to carry on fighting, never falling, even as she stumbles she will fight on to defend them and gain ground for them, spitting the blood from her mouth to scream into the face of winter and thrust forward with her sword, hacking her way through the demons that seem to pour down upon her.
And it is from there that she gathers her strength, she has the energy of life to move her forward, and however hard the battle, however many blows she takes to her body she will not be defeated, as she sees the demons rise up before her, she knows that they are the last line of defence, winter is still fighting, but it is on its knees.
Alder is in full bloom, his catkins blowing yellow pollen through the air, making Her cough and choke. As she wipes the blood and spittle from her mouth and strives forward to square up to her unbeatable foe, she snatches a sideways glance to the ash buds, poised black and heavy waiting to burst. As the two warriors meet, each rains massive blows down upon the other, it is now a duel, a fight to the death, each waiting for that moment of weakness to occour.....
Between blows there is a brief pause as each sucks in air, their lungs screaming for oxygen, there is a moment of clarity, when they look each other in the eye, and the words come -
"Sure hoofed is my steed, Impelled by the spur.
The high sprigs of Alder are on thy shield
Bran art thou called, of the glittering branches.
Sure hoofed is my steed in the day of battle
The high sprigs of Alder are in thy hand
Bran thou art, by the branch thou bearest
Amatheon, the good, has prevailed."
And thus it is, the tips of beech sprout anew, green again whatever grew... A warrior finally falls defeated, the black buds of ash finally burst and the battle of Achren is over. Spring comes into bloom.
So. bear this in mind in your rituals, as you picture a young maiden in a white dress skipping through fields with flowers sprouting from the hems of her skirt... life isn't like that. Nature isn't like that.
When are scraping the last late frost from your car windscreen one morning, when you look at your garden and find that it has killed off the flowers you planted last weekend when it was sunny and warm, when the emerging potato plants have had their leaves burned on the allotment because you didn't think to cover them over with fleece, and the birds are gathered round the feeders which has suddenly gone empty as their natural food is frozen... spare a thought for the spring maiden, clad in armour and fighting her way through winters grip. She's stumbled, not defeated, but winter hasn't quite lost its grip yet. She's not just some passive pretty thing responding to her lovers touch. Yes she is that - but she so much more besides.
This image of a goddess bringing eggs and flowers and bunnies into the land seemingly because everything about her is so beautiful, when taken to an extreme, can be dis-respectful to the picture of womanhood in general, and it is in the wider world that we should be taking our inspiration for the divine as it manifests itself in the here-and-now. We go on about basing our stuff on Celtic culture, back then we know that women were equally warriors and fought alongside men. Women today in the west have equality, but this has been hard won and fought for. Women have put their lives on the line to bring about equality. And in other parts of the world, this simply does not exist and women have had their voices taken away.
Sometimes we can make her image a bit too passive and accepting of all that the male aspect brings. It is like she lies there sleeping while the sun warms everything up and then she wakes up and thinks "Oh this is nice, I'll just add some flowers to brighten the place up..."
You know... She, and women, have a hand in creating and manifesting the world around us all. And creating a better world to live in isn't always easy or pretty.
This image of a goddess bringing eggs and flowers and bunnies into the land seemingly because everything about her is so beautiful, when taken to an extreme, can be dis-respectful to the picture of womanhood in general, and it is in the wider world that we should be taking our inspiration for the divine as it manifests itself in the here-and-now. We go on about basing our stuff on Celtic culture, back then we know that women were equally warriors and fought alongside men. Women today in the west have equality, but this has been hard won and fought for. Women have put their lives on the line to bring about equality. And in other parts of the world, this simply does not exist and women have had their voices taken away.
Sometimes we can make her image a bit too passive and accepting of all that the male aspect brings. It is like she lies there sleeping while the sun warms everything up and then she wakes up and thinks "Oh this is nice, I'll just add some flowers to brighten the place up..."
You know... She, and women, have a hand in creating and manifesting the world around us all. And creating a better world to live in isn't always easy or pretty.
