To the ancient Celts, the land on which they lived was
holy, full of the spirit of the divine. The landscape, with its hills
and streams, was the visible manifestation of sacred power, the outer
garment of the spirit that dwelled within. This land, this spirit,
was the great bearer and nurturer of the people. And so the land was
often called Mother.
In the Celtic tradition, what is powerful once is all
the more powerful in threes. The ancient Celts (like many peoples)
invested certain numbers with mystical significance, and the number
three was primary among these. We may never fully understand all that
it meant to the Celts, but we can make educated guesses about much
of its symbolism. As the sum of the first two numbers, three signifies
completion. The mating of female and male produces a third being,
making three the number of manifestation. Time is perceived as a triad
of past, present, and future, and so three symbolizes the unity of
time--as it does of space (underworld, earth, and the heavens; land,
sea, and sky; above, below, and here; etc.). The number three indicates
exponentially increased power: any image, utterance, or action is
magically intensified by being repeated three times.
All of these ideas--and more, no doubt--are present
in the triple image of the Mothers, perhaps the most widely honored
deities in the ancient Celtic world.
* * *
Ceridwen lived with her husband, Tegid the Bald, at
the Lake of Tegid in north Wales. They had two children. Their daughter,
Creirwy (meaning "light," "beautiful," or "lively
treasure"), came to be known as one of the Three Fair Maidens
of the Island of Britain. Morfran ("great raven"), their
son, was said to have been so ugly that he was called Afagddu, "utter
darkness." He was covered with coarse hair, so that people thought
he looked like a stag or a demon.
Because of Morfran's appearance, Ceridwen worried that he would have
great difficulty making his way in the world and taking his proper
place among the noble warriors of Britain. She decided to use her
knowledge and her arts to create a potion that would give him wisdom
and the spirit of prophecy. At the proper days and at the proper times,
she gathered all the necessary herbs, and put them into a cauldron
of water. The potion had to be boiled for a year and a day. During
this time, Ceridwen kept busy continually gathering and adding more
herbs, as well as pouring in fresh water. She had an old blind man
and a lad named Gwion Bach ("Little Gwion") to feed the
fire under the cauldron and to stir the brew.
At the end of the year and a day, Ceridwen positioned Morfran beside
the cauldron to await the three precious drops of potion that were
due to spring forth; they would contain all the concentrated virtue
of the herbs, and whoever they landed on would receive the gifts of
wisdom and prophecy. At the last moment, however, Gwion Bach shoved
Morfran out of the way and received the three drops instead. The cauldron
itself cried out at this and shattered.
Gwion fled, with Ceridwen in hot pursuit. Gwion turned himself into
a hare, that he might run faster, but Ceridwen became a greyhound.
Coming to a stream, Gwion took the form of a fish; Ceridwen pursued
him as an otter. Gwion took to the air as a bird, and Ceridwen turned
herself into a hawk. At last, Gwion changed into a single grain of
wheat, concealed in a pile of grain upon a threshing floor. Then Ceridwen
became a great black hen. She scratched and pecked at all the wheat
until she found the transformed Gwion, whom she swallowed down.
The seed grew in Ceridwen's womb, and nine months later she gave birth
to a baby boy. She did not want to raise him, but he was so beautiful
that she could not bear to destroy him. So she put him into a little
coracle or hide-covered basket-boat, and set him adrift on the waters.
Soon he would be found and begin a new life as Taliesin, the archpoet
of Britain.
* * *
One of Manawydan's roles in the Third Branch is as defender
of the harvest. This makes any of the autumn harvest festivals a good
time to honor him. Planting time, too, is an appropriate occasion
to call on Manawydan. Grains and grain products are under his aegis,
so it is good to use these in any ritual dedicated to him.
Even if you don't have a farm or a garden, Manawydan's protection
of the harvest can still apply to you. All of us depend on food that
is grown on farms and in gardens, perhaps in our own neighborhood,
perhaps far away in another county, state, or even country. No matter;
that food still comes from the labor of people working the earth.
We can honor Manawydan by remembering to be thankful for our food
and for the work of those who produced it. Moreover, like Manawydan,
we are all stewards of the earth, and there are many ways for us to
express this: composting, recycling, growing or buying organic produce,
and so on. Harvest has another meaning, too, as the result of our
labors in whatever field--not just in terms of our job and/or creative
endeavors, but in terms of our relationships, our spiritual quests,
or what have you. Manawydan can help us with seeing our projects through
to completion, and he can help us protect the special things that
we have worked for.
The word work has come up quite a bit in this
discussion of Manawydan, and for good reason. We like to think of
him, in one of his aspects, as the god of Right Livelihood. He's a
provider, and he's not afraid of hard work. He sees the honor even
in humble jobs and does them to the best of his capability. Whether
he's functioning as a ruler, an artisan, or a farmer, he's doing what
needs to be done, and doing it with the utmost integrity. Obviously,
Manawydan is a wonderful god to look to when we are wrestling with
issues of work and of earning a living.
Finally, perhaps one of Manawydan's greatest lessons
for us lies in his "profoundness in counsel." He reminds
us that the voice of experience is worth listening to--and of the
value of growing into our own maturity and experience. He cautions
us to pay attention to our situation and our surroundings. We should
evaluate perceived threats carefully and not jump to conclusions.
We should cultivate creative thinking and learn to recognize opportunities
for positive action. And here's one more motto for Manawydan and for
those who would follow in his footsteps: Learn to choose your battles.
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