A YEAR OF DRUID VALUES:
BEGINNING WITH BALANCE
Our ritual calendar of fire festivals, solstices and equinoxes sacralizes the life cycle of the earth and sun, and as we commemorate these changes in nature, we also reflect on the corresponding changes in our own lives. At Imbolc, we celebrate the rebirth of the earth and sun after their winter confinement, and we also honor Brigit, the “gentle foster-mother” of the Gaelic peoples, the triple goddess of healing, smithcraft and poetry. At this time, in the infancy of the year, we too want a new start, and we seek inspiration and strength to build a better future. (Anyone else still hoping to keep keeping their New Year’s Resolutions?)
I would like to devote the next year of my newsletter articles to exploring some of the characteristic values expressed in the Gaelic mythological material. How can we look to this bright knowledge for some of the inspiration that nourished our Ancestors, and try to apply them to our own lives?
Balance is a fundamental skill that has to be learned (and relearned) throughout life on a physical, mental and emotional level. People and animals have to learn how to stand on their own two (or sometimes more) feet and move forward through the world. Later, parents want children to eat a balanced diet (a few vegetables, not just sugar) and to become well-rounded people, the idea being that variety (in what we eat and also in what we do with our time) helps keep us healthy. Likewise, balance and versatility (both physical and psychological) both play a central role throughout Irish mythology and folklore, as evidenced by the delight our Ancestors took in the tales about Lugh Samildanach, the all-skilled master of all the arts, and Fionn Mac Cumhal, the warrior-poet.
As if to emphasize this idea of balance, the villains of Irish myth, in contrast, are often depicted as one-eyed, one-armed or one-legged (or sometimes a combination of all three): Balor and the Fomorians, as well as Goll Mac Morna, the one-eyed rival of Fionn, come to mind. Even the great hero Cuchullain himself sucked one eye inside of his head in the throes of his battle frenzy, which was said to be a terrifying sight to friend and foe alike. All these images, positive and negative, suggest that balance was important indeed to our Ancestors, perhaps even regarded as a defining element of human life.
This idea of balance as an integral foundation for successful living is famously expressed in these selected passages from The Instructions of Cormac (translated here by the famous Celtic scholar Kuno Meyer, as found in The Celtic Literature Collective at www.maryjones.us). This poetic bit of wisdom literature is found in The Book of Ballymote, a 14th-century manuscript that contains many Fenian tales, in which King Cormac Mac Art plays a substantial role.
In one passage, Cormac advises his son Cairbre about how to become a good king:
“O Cormac, grandson of
“Not hard to tell,” said Cormac.
“I was a listener in the woods
I was a gazer at stars
I was blind where secrets were concerned
I was silent in a wilderness
I was talkative among many
I was mild in the mead-hall
I was stern in battle
I was gentle towards allies
I was a physician of the sick
I was weak towards the feeble
I was strong towards the powerful
I was not close lest I should be burdensome
I was not arrogant though I was wise
I was not given to promising though I was strong
I was not venturesome though I was swift
I did not deride the old though I was young
I was not boastful though I was a good fighter
I would not speak about any one in his absence
I would not reproach, but I would praise
I would not ask, but I would give
For it is through these habits that the young become old and kingly warriors.”
Cormac’s answer strings together pairs of opposites: silent in a wilderness, yet talkative in company; gentle to the weak yet strong to the powerful; wise yet humble. It seems to suggest a situational awareness that recognizes a variety of appropriate responses to people and events, rather than a “one-size-fits-all” code of behavior that must be followed at all times and in all places.
In a later passage, Cormac counsels his son to use this situational awareness to find a balanced path through the world, a middle way, similar to Aristotle’s idea, in the Nichomachean Ethics, that virtue is the mean between two extremes of behavior:
“O Cormac, grandson of
“Not hard to tell,” said Cormac.
“Be not too wise, be not too foolish
be not too conceited, nor too diffident
be not too haughty, nor too humble
be not too talkative, nor too silent
be not too hard, nor too feeble
If you be too wise, one will expect too much of you
If you be foolish, you will be deceived
If you be too conceited, you will be thought vexatious
If you be too humble, you will be without honor
If you be too talkative, you will not be heeded
If you be too silent, you will not be regarded
If you be too hard, you will be broken
If you be too feeble, you will be crushed.”
Cormac again uses pairs of opposites to suggest that the world contains many different types of people and presents us with many different situations. Everyone is not your friend, nor is everyone your enemy; love is not always the answer to every problem, nor is aggression; you’re neither a sage nor an idiot, and sometimes you have to express your ideas (but not when it’s better to listen to the ideas of others). Cormac advises his son to see the world not as he might wish it to be, but as it is: a fluid and ever-changing flow of events, positive and negative, that demand a variety of responses.
So, can we actually apply this antique poem to our modern lives? At the risk of proving myself a fool by masquerading as a wise interpreter of a non-existent Celtic scripture,
I suggest we can use The Instructions of Cormac as a tool for examination. Where do I find myself in these words? Am I able to choose my response to a situation, or do I react automatically, sometimes without even knowing why? Do I have realistic expectations of myself or others, or is my vision clouded with preconceptions? Am I open to a variety of solutions to a problem, or do I think that there’s only one way to succeed? In short, am I acting out Einstein’s definition of insanity: doing the same thing again and again, but expecting different results?
Everyone’s answers to these questions will be different, of course. But perhaps Cormac’s advice can serve as a compass, helping us to step out of our comfort zones when needed or to correct our course when we veer to one extreme or another. Perhaps it can help us to find some sense of balance in our lives, a balance that our Ancestors learned from nature and from tradition, and in turn passed along to us.
May we all be nourished by the bright knowledge that strengthens our connection to the Land and our mothers and fathers of old, and may it enrich our lives and our communities at Imbolc and throughout the year.