Brigit's Forge Website
Meditation to Meet Brigit
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Musings from Gelli Fach
Storing Magic
from "Celtic Gods Celtic
Goddesses" by R.J.Stewart,
artwork Miranda Gray.
Copyright worldwide
Relax and close your
eyes. Let the stresses and strains of the day
drain away, down through your feet and into the
ground.
Gradually allow your inner vision to reveal to
you a meadow full of wild flowers - poppies,
cornflowers, flax and meadowsweet - their scent
filling the air around you, intoxicating.
You see a pathway, little more than a
sheep-track, leading off towards the east and
find yourself following it.
Eventually you see in the distance a wood and
walking steadily you approach the edge of it. It
is place of sunlight and shade, dappled shapes
dancing on the grass, the sweet piping and
chirruping of the birds, the rustle of small
mammals and insects.
The path leads on inside the wood. It is
well-trodden - many others have walked this way
before you - and you quickly see that it is an
ancient oak wood, full of strong grandfather
oaks, their trunks sturdy and steadfast, holding
up their forked and leafy branches which reach
to the sky. You are conscious of their roots
which delve far, far down into the ground,
further than you can even imagine, drawing
nourishment and wisdom from the Earth.
As you walk on the trees become more and more
dense and the intensity of their branches begins
to block out the light... It becomes
quieter - you hear nothing but your own
footsteps crunching on the forest floor. The
dark increases and your heart beats faster. You
don’t know where you are, or where you are
going. But you are drawn onwards and feel your
way by touch between the closely gathering
trees...
Eventually you smell the friendly smoke of a
wood-fire and at the same time the darkness
begins to recede and patches of sky appear
between the branches above.
The trees become thinner and you find yourself
on the other side of the wood, facing a small
group of round huts, built of low stone-walls
with thatched roofs. As you approach the
settlement three women appear and,
smiling a welcome, they guide you beyond the
huts to a wattle fence surrounding a large fire
which, even from this distance, you can see is
burning with a fierce intensity. The women
whisper to you “This is Brigit’s fire, Brigit’s
sacred fire. Do you wish to approach it?”
If the answer is yes, allow the women to take
you inside the fence where more women are
tending the fire. They lead you to it and then
melt away into the background, leaving you
alone.
As you stare at the wall of flame, feeling its
power and vitality, you become aware of the
presence of Brigit. The form in which she
chooses to appear to you will be different for
each person. How does she seem to you?
As you stand there you feel yourself being laid
bare as she looks at you, her gaze penetrating
to your very essence.
After what seems like aeons, she gives you a
gift - it may be an object, or words or a song.
This gift is a symbol of what you need in your
life at the moment.
Hardly have you received this gift when there is
a flash of light and the vision fades. You
suddenly find yourself back at the edge of the
wood, the wattle fence and the settlement behind
you. The three women are with you and they
escort you back to the edge of the wood. They
take you to a small spring bubbling up from the
ground and taking up a simple wooden bowl that
lies beside it on a rock, they fill it with
water and give it to you to drink. It takes away
the penetrating heat of the fire; it quenches
your thirst; it brings you healing.
Then you retrace your steps through the wood,
guided this time by an inner light that seems,
mysteriously, to radiate from the fire you left
behind you in the wattle enclosure.
Soon you reach the other side of the wood and
follow the path back to the meadow.
Again, you smell the scent of the flowers and
hear the murmuring of the bees and insects.
You become aware of what Brigit has given you
and meditate upon its significance.
When you feel ready, leave the meadow. Come back
into your room and open your eyes.
© Hilaire
Wood 2005