Hopi Priests. 1900s.
"I am the Sun, the father. With my warmth all things are created. You are my children, and I am very concerned about you. I hold you to protect you from harm, but my heart is sad to see you leaving my protecting arms and destroying yourselves. From the breast of your mother, the Earth, you receive your nourishment, but She is too dangerously ill to give you pure food. What will it be? Will you lift your father’s heart? Will you cure your mother’s ills? Or will you forsake us and leave us with sadness, to be weathered away? I don’t want this world to be destroyed. If this world is saved, you all will be saved, and will all be happy in the Peaceful Way. I have spoken. May the Great Spirit guide you on the right path." -Grandfather Dan Katchongva, leader of the Sun Clan, Hopi Indian (1865-1972).
Originally published in 1972 by the Committee for Traditional Indian Land and Life Los Angeles, California.
"To ignore the experience of people trained in the science of their day, or simply expert in the practical application of folk medicine, is both culturally bigoted and unscientific. We cannot presume that conventional modern science knows everything. Folk tradition includes many more layers of nuanced experience, including information drawn from the imagination, intuition, observation of animals, bedside experience, taste and smell, that the inherently limited boundaries of modern science cannot include. These layers of knowledge enrich, rather than deduct from scientific endeavor."
–Matthew Wood (Traditional Western Herbalist)
"You don’t measure love in time. You measure love in transformation. Sometimes the longest connections yield very little growth, while the briefest of encounters change everything. The heart doesn’t wear a watch - it’s timeless. It doesn’t care how long you know someone. It doesn’t care if you had a 40 year anniversary if there is no juice in the connection. What the heart cares about is resonance. Resonance that opens it, resonance that enlivens it, resonance that calls it home. And when it finds it, the transformation begins…"
My favourite ancient artifact: The Gundestrup Cauldron. Solid silver, Celtic in origin, found in a Viking tomb. It boasts this iconic image of Cernunnos, the Horned God.
"I am not the only one who is really not human. There are other Fey out there, and I know some of them. There are others out there who are not elves, but are not of this world, either. Stuffed into human bodies as well, there are dragons and were-creatures and beings I cannot define. We are here for a reason, and that reason is to keep the magic alive that so many people on this planet have forgotten to see. A time will come when we will need it."
"I’m often difficult to love. I go through dark periods like the moon and I hide from myself. But I promise I will kiss your wounds when they’re hurting. Even if they’re in your soul, I can find them with the light in my fingertips. I will lead you to the river so you can remember how beautiful it feels to be moved by something that is out of your control. And when our dark periods match, we can breathe with the grass and look at the night sky. The stars will remind us of the beauty in our struggles and we won’t feel lost anymore."
Airmid is the Goddess of Herb-lore and Herbal Healing. She is the daughter of Dian Cecht, the Tuatha De Danaan’s head healer. She knows all the lore, uses, and properties of every herb. She also guarded the Well of Slaine (Well of Healing) with her father and brother, Miach. This well brought the dead back to life. She is mostly known from the story of the rivalry between her father and her brother. She helped her brother reattach Nuada’s real arm after the first Battle of Magh Tuiredh, allowing Nuada to retake the thrown.
It became increasingly clear to Dian Cecht that Airmid and Miach were surpassing him in healing skills. And this frustration caused him to strike against Miach. Dian Cecht attacked Miach multiple times, each time Miach healed himself, until Dian Cecht finally cut Miach’s head off and Miach could not heal himself.
Airmid would cry over Miach’s grave every day until one day, a year later, she found 365 herbs, “one for each joint and sinew.” She took these herbs and separated them by use, and put them into her cloak. However, Dian Cecht was still upset, and so he went to Airmid’s cloak and scattered every single herb, making sure that Airmid would be the only one that knew what the herbs could do.
Some even believe she’s still healing up in the mountains in Ireland, teaching good health and the lost knowledge of herbal medicine.
Airmid is revered as a master herbalist and magician. She rules over magic, healing, learning, Herbalism and the complexities of family relationships. Call on her for general magick, learning herbalism, for inspiration in crafts or understanding family loyalty, and of course, healing.
Sacred to Airmid: colors: green, brown; a cloak; herbs of any kind; wells (especially the Well of Slaine—now Heapstown Cairn—in Ireland); mortar and pestle. (My UPG)
****This is my personal view of Airmid that I have come to through research and hard work.