Lyssi's

Part Two: Brighde

‘Là Fhèill Brìghde boidheach, Cunntar spreidh air mointeach. Cuirear fitheach chon na nide, ’S cuirear rithis rocais.’

‘On the Feast Day of beautiful Bride, The flocks are counted on the moor. The raven goes to prepare the nest, And again goes the rook.’ Carmina Gadelica p.173

Hello everyone! I have recently been doing a lot of research on Brighde, or Brigid, as I hope to start working with her in the near future. So I thought I would share some of the things that I’ve learned. This isn’t really in any particular theme or order, apologies, it’s fairly random! (I also haven’t talked about even most of the things that I could talk about so perhaps I will make a part 2 sometime)

Brigid or Brighde is a Celtic goddess, of Irish origin. She is spoken of in many early historic texts within Ireland as a member of the Tuatha dé Danann. She was known as a goddess of fire, the forge, poetry, healing, farming and livestock. In Scotland, Brighde is the mirror deity to an Cailleach, controlling the summer months and the arrival of spring. She is closely associated with Imbolc, it’s Gaelic name being La Fheill Brighde. With the advent of Christianity, Brighde got her name sake in St Brigid of Kildare, who is associated with healing and water.

There are many variations on the name, Brigid being the most common, Brighde is the name most commonly used in Scotland. And there are ither variations including Brigit, Bride, Bhride and Brede, Brig and Bric.

Brighde in Scotland

In Scotland, Brighde is most commonly seen as a weather deity, controlling the arrival of spring and having domain over the summer months. In this way, she is a mirror to An Cailleach, who controls the winter months. There are various stories as to how the two interacted, and what caused the change in seasons. One story tells that An Cailleach had a son called Angus, who fell in love with Brighde. The Caileach kidnapped Brighde, locking her away underground and causing the freezing winter. When Angus rescues Brighde on Imbolc, spring and life return to the land. Another story tells that when An Cailleach grows very old, she drinks from a loch which provides youth and she transforms into Brighde. Others see Brighde simply as the mirror Goddess to an Caileach, being youthful, warm and gentle, where an Caileach is hag-like, freezing and wild. 

Brigids mantle, or a brat Brighde

A piece of folklore associated with Brighde, is that a small piece of cloth would be left out on the eve of Imbolc in order to be blessed by Brighde. This would imbue the cloth with healing and protective properties throughout the year, and it is said that if the same cloth is used, it will grow stronger with each year that it is left out. Traditionally, this cloth would be of white cotton of silk - and was used to protect women in childbirth and new born babies from the Fair Folk.

Brighde’s crosses, or Brigid’s crosses

The Christian story for the origins of Brighde’s crosses is that St Brigid was trying to show a follower a cross and had only reeds to make one with. Although the origins of the crosses could be much older than this, as the shape has parallels with pre Christian symbolism. A new Brigid’s cross would be made at each Imbolc and kept, so that people amass a collection of crosses. They are said to be protective talismans, in addition to bringing fertility and luck.

Brigid of the flame:

In the medieval era at Kildare, in Ireland, nuns tended a perpetual flame for St Brigid until the 16th century. This practise was recently restarted. This is widely believed to be a continuation of a pre-Christian practice of women tending a flame in honour of the Celtic deity.

The following are taken from research as well as my own personal gnoses

Symbols associated with Brighde:

Cows Pigs Sheep and lambs Milk and dairy products The oystercatcher (being called Gillebride in Scots Gaelic) Dandelion (in Scots Gaelic beàrnan Brighde) Snowdrops Crocuses White, violet, pastel yellow and green Water Snakes (in Scotland) Eggs Reeds Wheat and bread Beer

Brighde’s domains:

Spring and summer Healing wells Fire Smithing and craft Poetry Farming and livestock Whistling Grief The home and hearth Childbirth Medicine Brewing

Sources: Daimler, M. 2016. Brigid: meeting the Celtic goddess of poetry, forge and healing well. Brigid: goddess and saint. Carmina Gadelica. image: A la Recherche du Temps Perdu by Charles-Amable Lenoir. 

celtic mythology + major goddesses

This was the deadliest antisemitic attack in all 364 years of American Jewish history. Jews all over the world are shaken, upset, and scared. We know that this could have been any of us, but beyond that, this attack struck at the heart of our people. We were attacked in a place of safety and sanctity. We were reminded that as Jews, we are not safe in America. And we lost eleven Jewish souls.

Some of us are grieving, some of us are angry, some of us are devastated, some of us are numb, some of us are crying, some of us are terrified, some of us are anxious, and some of us can barely walk up the stairs because this doesn’t make any sense and yet it makes so much sense because we all, on some level, imagined this was coming. Our history has taught us that our safety is never guaranteed, and over the past two years we have watched the sickening rise of Nazism and antisemitism all over the world, including in America, where, despite our history, many of us had been lulled into believing it could never happen here.

We lost a third of the world’s Jewish population within living memory. So many Jewish families, in every country, fled antisemitic violence within the past few generations. The tragedy we just experienced is visceral, it’s terrifying, it’s devastating.

Foreshadowing at its best!

Cas is like “yeah no shit honey!”

use tools

Can be taught to speak (like parrots)

Have huge brains for birds

like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee

They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things

they are scary smart at solving puzzles

some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies

they can remember faces

SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.  They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows.  Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag.  But the nice guys with masks they left alone.  THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight.  THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.

They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.

Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.

That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him. 

Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree. 

That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.

i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.

a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.

i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.

As a side note, I volunteered at a rehab (Hope for Wildlife), where they were rehabbing a crow with a broken wing–who was named Russell Crow. He kept pulling his bandage off so a sleeve was cut off some old clothing and put on him like a little sweater.