Walking a path between tradition and invention

Published in Issue 3 of Pagan Ireland (Spring 2022). Get a copy of this issue here: https://paganireland.com/buyissues

It was wonderful to participate in so many celebrations of Brigid, and of Imbolc, around February 1st. There was beautiful art, poetry, songs and stories. Moving traditions such as laying out Brigid’s Brat, weaving crosses, clearing hearth and house, walking ancient pathways, going to the well were revitalized. I felt uplifted by it all. It raised my spirits to be part of such a wide and diverse movement of celebration, and I look forward to next year when there will be a national holiday centred on her day and on Imbolc.

In the middle of all of this I felt aware that there were some sceptics on the side and some critics and all kinds of different approaches to Brigit and to Imbolc. To begin with – how do we even spell these words? There is Brigit, Brigid, the two main spellings. There is Brid and Bridget and Brighid. Likewise, there is Imbolc and Imbolg. There is a claim that Brigit is the goddess while Brigid is the saint – which for me creates an artificial distinction, as I think her ability to move fluidly between Pagan and Christian is one of her great strengths. Others argue that Brigit is the spelling in old Irish, which again raises questions for me about text and authority. We know many of these myths and legends were written down by Christian monks long after they existed in oral traditions. So I’m not sure why I should defer to these sources – and their many versions and translations with their many different meanings. Yet I have great admiration and respect for those who have done all the work of translation and tracked down so many beautiful and inspiring stories.

Then there is even an argument that Brigid never existed, that she is invented, and some scoffing at the stories about her. I listened to several tellings of the familiar stories about Brigid, some of which I love and others I couldn’t relate to. I enjoyed some parodies and humour. At times I felt that the more I listened the more I felt taken away from my own intuitive understanding of Brigid, which has come from participating in ritual celebration every year – based, of course, on some of the same sources as many of the stories about her. I read a well-known authority expressing annoyance at an association between Brigid and swans. A familiar story - that An Cailleach hands over to Brigid to mark the turn from winter to spring - has been disputed, the argument being that there is nothing in the texts about a link between Brigid and An Cailleach. I wondered if Brat Bhríde was the correct spelling and how to incorporate more of the Irish language into my practice.

The meaning of Imbolc has also been open to interpretation, and over the years I’ve come across quite a weave of commentary, some of which I love and others of which I just find implausible. Like the other cross-quarter festivals, there is plenty of tradition and ritual associated with Imbolc. I like the tradition that the cross-quarter time is lunar, with Imbolc marked by the new moon – which links it to the Chinese new year, (with Bealtaine as waxing or full moon, Lunasa as full moon, and Samhain as waning or dark moon.) Others mark these festivals by calendar dates – the official celebration day (February 1st, May 1st etc.) or by the precise day and time that is half way between the solstice and equinox.

And this brings me to the nub of questions that I think a lot of us have. What do I, as a practitioner, based my practice on, and how do we, as a community, respond to the varying stories, rituals and practices that we see developing in Ireland and globally? For me these questions apply not just to Brigid, but to the entire range of Pagan, Druidic, Shamanic, Wiccan, Celtic and eco practices. I’ve followed mainly Goddess, Celtic and Shamanic traditions which have been the subjects of heated debate! Questions about evidence became particularly acute for me over the years of writing a novel set in ancient Ireland. I wanted to imagine the people and the culture that created Newgrange in a way that would be authentic and plausible. However, the archaeological evidence is very limited, and myths come from a different era. They can be inspiring, but I had to rely on dreaming, journeying, visiting sites, listening to and reading what others had to say to fill in the gaps. This was especially so when it came to important scenes, such as the Imbolc celebration, or sunrise at Newgrange on Winter Solstice. In both my practice and my writing, like many others, I rely on intuition, yet I also look for expertise.

I of course don’t have answers but I think it is an important discussion for us all to have, as I have seen too many assertions about what is right or wrong, often with anger and dismissal. I was given very specific guidance from teachers on my goddess and shamanic path which is vital, but I also want to be open to different ways, as long as the source is clear and they are compatible. I like to think that the rituals and traditions that I follow are grounded in ancient sources and I love to hear people speak, write or read about these traditions. I also respect the oral tradition, present in folklore and local and family traditions, and I love to read or hear re-workings of myth and legend - up to a point! More recently I’ve resolved a lot of the contradictions by just settling for myself what I want to practice, even while participating in a different version. I think this has given me more – for example I enjoy stretching the cross-quarter days to include the lunar and calendrical dates, which gives me two celebrations! When it comes to stories and questions of ‘what really happened’, I think imagination is a wonderful thing. Yet I want to feel grounded and connected to ancestral ways. For now I continue to walk a path between tradition and invention. Maybe there is a fine line between the two, maybe they inspire each other.

Ger Moane

Ger Moane is a writer, psychologist and shamanic practitioner. Her forthcoming novel (Winter Sun) is set in Ireland 5,000 years ago.