“……And when the Enuthair the Sparrow Spirit came through the boughs of the Great Tree, she laid the last star, the Last Ancestor upon the roots of the Tree.
All the Children of the Forest gathered close.
All the Children of the Forest held their songs still and silent, waiting to hear the song of the Last Ancestor.
Would it be a Warrior Song, a Hunters Song, a wild and crazy song, a Turning Song; they waited and watched.
The baby that lay on the embracing roots of the Great Tree, waved its arms and legs, silent and helpless; no fur or feathers, no claws or teeth, not hard like the stones, not flowing like the rivers; indeed, thought all the Children of the Forest, what was this last star without a song. Here were all the Children of the Forest and none knew what was to do next.
Bõ the Mother Cow pushed her way through all the gathered, she nuzzled the infant who turned to stare into Bõ’s deep eyes.
The child had no song and no breath.
Bõ gently moo-ed her song into the infant’s ears and the child coo-ed back.
All the Children were amazed at this and one by one each in turn came to share their song with the infant.
And so, it was in this way that the human star learnt all the songs of the Forest…..”
From the saga of the Last Ancestor
The first human falls from the stars breathless, not simply out of breath, no breath. All creation has breath, breath is the song of life, the song of the stars which resonates with the song of the elements to manifest life, destiny, our union with all familial creation.
The stories tell us that Màthair Tei, The Earth Mother sang a Great Song, which was in essence the song of longing learnt from her mother, The Eternal Ocean. This song moves the hearts of all things, including the Creator, calling all to be in union. The Song of The Earth Mother, powerful in its lamentation, rises as a Great Tree, The Singing Tree and calls the stars to fall upon the Earth in their songs, who sings from her elemental soul manifesting the perfect vessels to contain the star songs.
It is said that Bõ, the spirit of the cow, manifest maternal spirit of the Forest, pushes aside all onlookers and shares her song, her breath, her ‘soul’ with the infant, who gasps and takes life in the cradle of the Great Forest.
All the Trees of the Forest are in essence branches of that one Great Tree Yrrgridia, all singing to the stars in every moment, all breathing the song of Life. The singer songs the song which in turn creates the singer, such reciprocation is the relationship of love, the grace of the Divine.
In short, this is the story of ‘bronntanas anála’, the gift of breath, the breath giver.
Many traditions have similar stories, in which the breath is imbued into creation by the Divine and this reflected in many rituals and traditions, in which breath is passed or shard by humans in acts of love, spirit and consecration. For the Sagh’ic, the root and the word for breath is the same as the words for song, soul and life. In the animist tradition is the tradition of the shared breath, the one breath, the one song, the one spirit, imbued into creation by the creator. In many of the cosmological stories is mention of this shared breath, this kiss of the intimacy of spirit and life.
The words for breath, song, spirit, and love, are all of a similarity; words of union, life, sharing.
Breathing is an action we think little of, let alone be grateful for. We often talk of “the one breath” and yet we tend to be fairly selfish with this gift.
We find ourselves in a time when we as a race are in a sense ‘stalked’ by a seemingly malevolent virus, which takes the breath from our lungs; ‘Gadaí anála’, the breath stealer. As the days some and go, this thief, takes not just breath, it takes lives, it robes us of our songs and diminishes our souls. It seems that once again we lie helpless and breathless upon the roots of the Great Tree waiting.
It is said there is a ‘shortage’ of trees in the world, that trees are being depleted. Upon checking, we will find that trees are indeed dying in this modern world and in this time. No one is exactly sure why this is happening, global warming, pollutants in the air, toxins in the soil, water table reduction and many other suggestions. The one truth is that trees are reducing. Trees provide oxygen for life and have an ability to remove toxins from the air. Seems our ancestors knew this centuries before scientist proved it, telling of it in their stories and songs. Walking in the green countryside let us not miss the fact that the rolling green fields were once rolling forest levelled to provide agricultural land for ever increasing human population, perhaps humans need to make more space for trees, without trees we will have no breath!
We are passing through something that is not simply warning or threatening (those ploys did not seem to work on humans) rather a perilous journey which right now does not bode well for the helpless human struggling on the tree root.
Breath and the very mechanism of maintaining that sacred interchanging dance; those gifts are being taken back from us. In the world today, we find ourselves masked, breathing our own breath and unable to share our breath, we may be isolated in the silence, the love and the intimacy of spirit, and like that child of yore, there is a sense of loneliness, helplessness, like a dance without music. Our masks, our gloves, our isolations slowly starve our already hungry souls and hearts; our breath and its sacred essence of heart, soul and song is lost.
This ritual reaches out to try, in metaphor or spirit, to enact that first time when the breath as a sacred act of love and life was shared. This ritual is best done over 9 days, however if we can only manage one day, one day’s intentional love is better than none.
For the ritual, a humanesque effigy is needed. It can be roughly carved from wood, moulder from clay, bundled twigs or rags; the important thing is that it needs to represent that helpless human. Ideally and traditionally, the figure would be moulded out of bread dough, which supports the closing segments of the ritual.
Also needed will be 9 ribbons or strips of cloth, to bind around the effigy, one for each day, plus a final wrapping cloth.
Also, some incense, sage, any item that can be used to create smoke and a candle.
The effigy needs a place to lay and rest during the work, and perhaps this could be on a bed of leaves or bare earth, in order to maintain that primal maternal energy.
Bõ, for whatever tradition, will represent the maternal love of the Divine/Creator, by whatever name or gender works for us, and that soul ‘vibration’, as it were, resides somewhere in each and every one of us.
Having created or set aside the place for the ritual and the ‘resting’ of the figure, give yourself time to be fully present in the ritual. The ritual can be shared in whatever way works, given the circumstances we find ourselves in.
Light both the candle and the sage (or whatever you are using for smoke)
We begin by quietening ourselves and finding that ‘maternal’ divinity within our hearts. Imagine the heart is a beacon shining out from a place of safety, and as a hearth that invites others to come and warm themselves at, and finally as an ‘oven’ cooking food to share.
The ritual is simple in that we take three deep breaths, as if each were falling into that maternal heart, then for each breath,
- breathe out into your hands, passing your hand over the flame and spreading them across your figurine.
- breathe out into your hands, across the smoke, and over the figurine.
An alternative way for these two rubrics, would be to breathe in the fire, using your hand to ‘waft’ the fire into your breath and breathe out directly onto the figurine and likewise foe the smoke.
- Breathe out with an audible sound, a hum, a tone or a song, breathing the sound into your figurine as close as you can.
Bind/wrap a ribbon around the figurine (not the face)
Hold it close whilst you allow images of those you miss this sharing with. These can be people you personally know, people you know who are having problems with isolation, people you image struggling with being alone, humans feeling helpless and despairing, the global community (or smaller) hungry to share heart, song, spirit, touch.
Lay the figure down in/on its resting place….
Extinguish the candle and wait for a few moments, allowing what you have given to be reflected and returned to you.
Do this for the 9 days if you can. On each day as you undertake the final holding and imaging, stretch yourself beyond personal family and friends. The whole world is in this place, perhaps we always were and needed this virus to tell us. Imagine those you might not always think of, those who between you and there is some friction, some animosity, some regret, a deeper unspoken loneliness and/or yearning; we are all in this place together…
After the 9 days, or however long you have assigned to this ritual, loosely wrap the figurine in the wrapping cloth (not tight or bound like a shroud, more like a swaddling, and surrender the figurine to the elements and to the earth, burning, burying, immersing in water, or breaking it and sharing pieces with others. The traditional way with the bread figure, was to break it and either share it with others (to eat) or leave it our for birds etc to feed upon. The bread figure was never burnt or surrendered to water, rather left to the workings of nature and the divine wisdom inherent in that.
The ritual is a prayer that in some small way, metaphoric or spiritual, in which we are not facilitators of the divine breath, rather the same hungry beggars needing sustenance or in this case suffocating for lack of breath, which is also, song, spirit and love. In surrendering to this difficult wisdom, then and only then, we become co facilitators with the Divine, by whatever and whoever we define it as.
Sagh'ic Tire Dhream, UK & Europe 