The legend of Taliesin and the Cauldron of Ceridwen

This is probably the most profound of old Welsh legends. There is a 6th century parchment containing one of Taliesin's poems , "Y Gododdin" at Jesus college Oxford. There is no doubt that a Poet by the name of Taliesin existed. His story is allegorical. A careful reading reveals the training that a Bard went through, here at the hands of a Welsh Goddess, before being transformed from Gwion Bach (Lttle Innocent) to Taliesin (Radiant Brow) Poetry is described as having a "Fire in the head"
The following is taken from the original Welsh with frequent reference to English translators to make sure I was getting it right.

 

Gwion Bach

In the early days of the reign of Arthur, there lived a man of noble birth called Tegid Foel. He lived with his wife Ceridwen on an island on the lake that is still named for him today, Llyn Tegid. They had two children, a daughter Creirwy, fairest maid in all the land and a son Morfran. As Creirwy was fair, he was foul. The ugliest man in the world, he was known as Afagddu (Utter Darkness) for only in the darkest part of night could he be looked upon. His mother despaired that he would ever find favor in the noble courts of men unless he had some merit to counter his ugliness.

So Ceridwen bore herself to the hidden city of glass and there consulted with the Fferyllt and from their wisdom and arts she returned home and at the edge of the lake she began to boil a cauldron of inspiration for her son. She found a young boy, Gwion Bach, to stir the cauldron and fetch the wood for the fire and an old blind man, Morda, to keep the fire kindled. She instructed them that they were to keep it boiling for a year and a day, during which time she, according to the phases of the moon and the alignment of the stars, gathered herbs to put in the cauldron at their appointed times.

One day, towards the end of the year, as Ceridwen was making incantations, three drops of the charmed liquor flew out and landed on the hand of Gwion Bach. Because of the great heat he instinctively put his hand to his mouth. In the instant that he did so he foresaw all that was to come and he knew that his greatest danger lay in the wrath of Ceridwen. Gwion fled.

When Ceridwen saw that her labor of the year was lost and that Gwion Bach now had the blessings of the potion, she chased after him to kill him. When Gwion saw Ceridwen chasing him he turned himself into a Hare. For the cauldron, among many other things, had given him the power of Fith Fath, the shape changer. Ceridwen changed herself into a Greyhound and was almost upon him when he leaped into a river and turned himself into a Salmon. Ceridwen turned herself into an Otter and was almost upon him again when he jumped out of the river and became a wren. Ceridwen followed as a Hawk and gave him no rest. Just as she was about to swoop down on him he saw a barn with a pile of wheat on the floor. He dived in and transformed himself into a grain of wheat and hid from her. Ceridwen turned herself into a red crested black hen and pecked at the wheat until she found Gwion and she ate him.

When she returned to human form Ceridwen discovered that she was pregnant and for nine months she bore Gwion in her womb. When she delivered him she found she was unable to kill him because of his great beauty. So she wrapped him in a leather bag and cast him into the sea. This was on the 29th day of April.

 

Taliesin

In those days, between Dyfi and Aberystwyth lay the weir of Gwyddno Garanhir. Gwyddno had an only son named Elphin. Elphin was the most unlucky of men. It grieved his father for it seemed that Elphin was born in an evil hour. Everything that Elphin attempted came to naught and good fortune was never with him.

That year Gwyddno allowed his son alone to draw from the weir. For the weir had never given less than one hundred pounds of fish at that time of year. In so doing Gwyddno hoped to turn around his son's bad fortune. The next day when Elphin went to look there was nothing in the weir. He was about to turn away when he saw a black bag caught in the nets. With the aid of the weir guards he drew the bag out and within was a child whose brow was shining with a radiant light. Then one of the weir guards exclaimed "Gweled y Daliesin" (Behold the radiant brow) Elphin replied "Then Taliesin (Radiant brow) he shall be named." Then Elphin carried the boy in his arms and carefully rode with him back to his house. All the way lamenting that he still had no good fortune and nothing to show but an abandoned child.

Then did Taliesin speak for the first time and foretold honor for Elphin and the first words he spoke were a poem called "Y Dyhuddiant" (The consolation)

"Fair Elphin, cease to lament let no one be dissatisfied with his own,
To despair will bring no advantage. No man sees what supports him;
The prayers of Cynllo will not be in vain God will not violate his promise
Never in Gwyddno's weir was there such good luck as this night
Fair Elphin, dry thy cheeks, being too sad will not avail
Although thou thinkest thou hast no gain, too much grief will bring thee no good.
Nor doubt the miracles of the Gods
Although I am little I am highly gifted
From seas and from mountains and from the depths of rivers
The Gods bring wealth to the fortunate man.
Elphin of lively qualities, thy resolution is unmanly.
Thou must not be ever sorrowful, better to trust in the Gods than to forbode ill.
Weak and small as I am, on the foaming beach of the ocean,
In the day of trouble I shall be of more service to thee than three hundred salmon.
Elphin of notable qualities be not displeased at thy misfortune
Although reclined thus, weak in my bag, there lies a virtue in my tongue.
While I continue thy protector thou hast not much to fear.
Remembering the names of the Gods, none shall be able to harm thee."
And from that time forth Elphin had good fortune and was of good cheer wherever he went.

I am Welsh

I've been wanting to make this Rant for a while. It seems so few Welsh people Know or appreciate what a great country we are or of the contributions Welsh people have mad in the World.
The editing was done by my 17 year old son. I should point out that though I am a fan of Penderyn distillery and especially of their product, the making of this video was done without their knowledge or consent (Gulp) They have no part in this and I receive no compensation from them. (However a couple of bottles would not go amiss) So;
Pob Hwyl i pob Cymro, which can be translated as "The Welsh have all the fun"

The Rant

Taf is a river, it is not my name.
And no, I am not a Coal Miner or a Shepherd. I never went to school with Anthony Hopkins or Tom Jones and I never dated Catherine Zeta Jones. Though that would have been an affair to remember.
I speak Welsh and English and I can proudly say in two languages that Wales is Forever.
My country’s flag is a Dragon standing ready to fight and when Dafydd Williams, the Welsh-Canadian Astronaut took our flag to the moon, he also took a Rugby Cap. Because we are Rugby Nation !!
Welsh people have contributed more to this world than any country its size. In America; 20% of the founding fathers, 50% of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, many of the Presidents come from Welsh Parents. The first female Prime Minister of Australia is from Bari, the Police Force of Hong Kong was begun by Welshmen. The architect, Frank Lloyd Wright was Welsh, so was the surveyor Sir George Everest who gave his name to the tallest mountain in the World.
Wales is not large in size and we have a small distillery, but the word is getting out that the best Whiskey in the World can be found in a bottle of Penderyn.
Not only is Penderyn the best Whiskey; the Welsh Corgi is a fine animal, the Leek is a noble vegetable, Welsh Cakes are a food and the mid-day meal is Dinner!! Not Lunch Dinner!!
You may never have heard of the laws of Hywel Dda. They were based on a principle that became known as “Fair Play” We took that principle far beyond the Island of Britain. Our missionaries, explorers and settlers spread that idea across the Earth. Welsh people, their children and grand children are influencing the World still. The Land of my Fathers is the Mother Country of half the World.
So learn our names. We are not “Taffy” we are the Cymry.

Arianrhod, Goddess of the Silver Wheel

Arianrhod, the old tales tell us, lives in a castle of glass Caer Arianrhod it lies hidden deep within the mountains of Snowdonia. There she spins the web of life.

These old Welsh legends have meanings within secrets within mysteries. Arianrhod features prominently in the tale of Llew Llaw Gyffes,  (Lion with a sure hand) in the tale she lays on him three Tyngedau (fates or destinies.)  This gives us a very clear idea of what the web of life is and what is really happening.

The web of life is the firmament above us; the silver wheel are the stars. The stars move around in the sky and this is the web She weaves with the fate of us all entwined within the movements of the celestial web. When Arianrhod gave young Llew his fate She was foretelling what was woven in the silver wheel.

What Arianrhod tells Llew is that he must pass through the three manifestations of the God; Youth, warrior and sage. To be a youth he must have a name that only she can give. So his name is written in the stars. Secondly to be a man he must have weapons and armor, today we might say the “Tools of the trade” whether it be the physical tools of the Carpenter or the education of the Professor. These are the weapons and armor we need to survive. Thirdly he was fated to marry a woman not of the race who walk the Earth. In fact he was to be wedded to the Earth, to the spirit of the land. This is the mark of the sage, to be consort to the land.

These tales were written down after the conversion of the British Isles to Christianity. It was necessary to hide the true meanings so the story is told in such a way to disguise the divine nature of Arianrhod and of her role as the spinner of the web. She is the guardian and architect of the silver wheel that spins above us constantly announcing our Tynged.  

Just as Gwydion presented Llew to Arianrhod, we may go to someone like Gwydion. Someone who is close to the silver wheel, a person with real knowledge of the movement of the stars. Through a genuine and honest interpreter we can gain the knowledge of our fate and the wisdom to work with that fate. The story points out that there was acceptance of the fate but there was no surrendering, there was no giving in. What was done was the successful working within the challenges to bring about the desired result. There is a great lesson in this also.

We must face with courage the decrees of Arianrhod accepting our place within the great web of life, knowing that as one strand grows thin and breaks, another will be spun. So tonight, when you look up at the great silver wheel above your head, know that you and I are joined in the great web of life, eternally a part of the great mystery and wonder that is spun in the castle of glass on the silver spinning wheel of Arianrhod.

Non eclectic me

I occasionally attend pagan rituals in my area around Los Angeles County. Not as often as I should, indeed it’s not as often as I want to. The main problem for me is that rituals and retreats etc. take place on weekends. My career choice involves weekend work so I am effectively excluded from most rituals and celebrations. The cares of the mundane world hold me back and work gets in the way of life. That may well be the subject of another post but, for now; I want to write about the Pagan rituals I have attended here in this part of America.

Frequently before the ceremony begins, the participants are smudged. Drums are played to a Native American beat. In discussion with Americans who are seeking out the ancient path I hear talk of “Karma” and of “Chakras” These things and more make me uneasy and it took me a while to figure out why.

I am Welsh, nothing but Welsh as far back as I know. Most people in America are a mixture of many things. I have become convinced that it is this mixture of cultural heritages that make Americans in particular, more at ease with a mix and match of ritual and doctrine than I can be comfortable with.

I am an old Welsh Druid and that is it, simple and straightforward. I don’t go along with Karma but I understand cause and effect. I have a view of my physical body and its relationship to the spiritual energies that has nothing to do with “Chakra” These concepts are part of the spirituality of India. Valuable and worth knowing about, just not a part of my way or my views on Life the Universe and Everything.

I have a number of Native American friends, my wife is Apache Nation. From time to time we attend drumming circles and I always enjoy the Pow-Wow trail when we can get on it. Nevertheless there has been so much taken from the native peoples I feel that if I were to take an active part I would be just another European moving in on their land again. So I get uncomfortable when, at a Druid ritual, I am smudged. I can accept the gift gratefully when done at a Native ritual but in a European Pagan context it doesn’t sit well. I have come to realize that this is because my life, my heritage and my cultural roots all revolve around a distinctly Brythonic culture. For those who see themselves as new to this long and winding road we call the Pagan path it seems natural to explore various “Traditions” and include them in practice. For me personally, mix and match does not work.

The Awen, lost in translation

The Welsh legend of Taliesin begins with Ceridwen creating a Cauldron filled with a Magical elixir. This is where something tends to get lost in translation. Usually when the story is told, even by me as in this video, it is said that she is stirring the Cauldron of Inspiration. That isn’t exactly correct. Ceridwen is creating Awen.

The Welsh word for “inspiration” is ysbrydoliaeth the legend talks of Awen and that is not so easy to translate. Awen refers to that force in nature that creates inspiration. Frequently the word is translated as “muse” as in a line from the third verse of the Welsh national anthem “Ni liddwyd yr Awen trwy erchyll law brad” The Muse is not hindered by the awful hand of treason. However it means a lot more than that.

Consider the universe as being the ultimate in creativity. Everything in the universe includes all creativity. Creativity permeates the universe because it happens all the time. The universe is also the ultimate in inspiration. The existence of the universe is the product of the greatest inspiration. Awen is the personalization of all the inspiration and creativity that exists. Awen is untranslatable because it is a concept and an event. The event occurs when someone touches the Awen.

In the story of Taliesin he touches the Awen and is transformed forever. He becomes more than he ever could have been. This is the lesson and the challenge for us all. If we could just touch, just take three small drops of the Awen, there is nothing we could not create. We too would be transformed into something beyond our present imaginings. Can we touch the creativity and inspiration of the universe? It’s worth a try. Can we also drink from the Cauldron of Ceridwen?

See you around the fire.

Ceridwen and blind Morda

I was in a group discussion the other day when the question of Ceridwen arose. People had a number of questions about the story. Not surprising really, It is one of the most profound of the old Welsh legends. It tells of the birth of Taliesin, the greatest of the ancient Welsh poets or Bards.  The legend has it that an old blind man, Morda is his name is set to stir the cauldron of Awen. To make sure it doesn’t boil over. Morda falls asleep and three drops of the precious liquid fall on the thumb of a little boy.

 Just so we don’t get lost in translation; the boy’s name is Gwion Bach, literally “Little innocent” The old man is Morda, “Sea Father” Ceridwen is a lot trickier. The oldest manuscripts write her name as Keridvan or in modern Welsh spelling Ceridfan. “Fan” means place Cerid could be “loving” or it could mean “Crooked” or “Bent.” This would seem to reference the crescent moon. There is a deep study here and we have by no means uncovered all of the secret lessons hidden in this legend.

The part of the story that had almost all of my friends questioning was in regard to the action of Ceridwen. When she discovers that the Awen was taken by the young boy, the legend states that she beat Morda until his eye fell out. In Pagan groups Ceridwen is viewed as a Goddess. In fact there is ample evidence from legends and other sources to convince us all that she has always been a Goddess, so what is this passage all about? How could this be the behavior of a Goddess? I had to remind my friends of an important part of the story. Morda was blind. She was beating out the eye of a blind man. So what good was the eye to him? There are meanings within meanings inside these old tales. We are lulled into thinking that blind means “Not-seeing” Instead we should ask; “What was he blind to?” If we think of this part of the story as Morda losing that which prevented him from seeing clearly, then we realize that Morda also went through a transformation gifted by the grace of the Lady. It all revolves around a question that everyone in my group thought they had the answer to. The question of; what was in the Cauldron? What was it that Morda was stirring for a year and a day?

Almost everyone thinks it was the Cauldron of Inspiration. It is not.