It was not of a mother and a father
That I was created;
My creation was created for me
From nine forms of consistency
From fruit of fruits
From the fruits of the first god
From primroses and from flowers
From the flowers of trees and shrubs.
From earth, from the soil
Was I made.
From the flowers of nettle
From the water of the ninth wave.112
There has been speculation and erroneous conclusions that the above is referring exclusively to the creation of Blodeuedd, the magical woman created from flowers in the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi. But eminent Celtic academics have concluded that this is indeed in reference to Taliesin’s spiritual origin, and that Blodeuedd and everyone else on this planet have been spiritually created in the same manner. It claims that the Prophetic Spirit, although inhabiting the form of a human being, in fact has no active parent, for it is a vital aspect of the universe. This is in stark contrast to the revealed religions, who claim that our spirits are born of an uber-being who controls our destiny and punishment or reward. This is anathema in Celtica, where the spirit is perceived as an inherent aspect of the universe in its totality; it was not born of it and is not subservient to it; it is it. The universe serves only as soul, which in turn is the house of the spirit, not its parent. The poem explores the nature of the body’s physical creation—that it comes from the natural world and that it is formed, nurtured, and sustained by the forces of nature. This animistic view is beautifully Pagan in spirit and sings of our oneness with the entity that we live upon, Earth.
The poem also raises an interesting question that thus far has not been explored in these pages. Following the impregnation of Cerridwen and the subsequent birthing of the babe, there is a liminal period wherein the baby is set adrift in the care of nature; it is forty years later that the babe is identified as Taliesin. Therefore, the implication is that the intermediate babe is of no identity—he is neither Gwion Bach nor Taliesin; he is someone who exists between. It takes a prolonged period of gestation for the brow to shine and for the Prophetic Spirit to be fully assimilated, so this begs the question, what is the nature of the babe in the between times? He floats on a river; he does not require food or water to sustain him; he lies in darkness within a coracle, seemingly abandoned and suspended in time and space for four decades. The journey downriver from Cerridwen’s home in any direction would be three days at most; why would it take him forty years? This liminal, Morda-like quality is present within the tale, as are the attributes of Creirfyw that can be seen expressed in the immense beauty of the babe and in Cerridwen’s failure to kill him. It is my perception that the babe is the true innocent, a child of the mystery who swims the waterways of spirit. This portion of the tale acts as an allegory for the true nature of the spirit as an energy that is fully immersed in the flow of Awen. Within this portion of the tale we are provided a glimpse into the mystery of our permanent identity. The babe in the bag is the epitome of the true nature of the spirit, an energy in perpetual motion floating through the connective fabric of the universe, represented by the river, lost in the blissful rapture of being. If we consider for a moment the possibility that the entire cauldron, chase, and birthing sequence takes place in the otherworld, then this sequence is indicative of the transition from the realm of the spirit to the physical dimension. The journey causes the spirit to concentrate into the denseness of matter; it is born into this world so that body and spirit may dance together. It is only during the times when we return to the state of nonbeing that we are truly at one with the universe, and every day we get the opportunity to sense this, to recharge and be reminded of our permanent identities.
Do you know what you are when you are sleeping?
Are you a body or soul, or an occult and mysterious thing?113
The above lines, taken from the Book of Taliesin, belie a secret that we partake of each and every day. Recall the last time that you were incredibly tired and simply longed for your bed more than anything else in the world. The chances are your head touched the pillow and the lights of your eyes went out; sleep took you into the laps of the gods. Now recall the sensation upon waking after a luxurious, undisturbed night of restful sleep. What can you recall? It is a difficult question to answer, for it is impossible to assign any actual emotion to the state of sleep. Taliesin specifically asks if you know what you are when you are sleeping, but why does he ask? The answer is perhaps one of the most revealing and profound messages that swim within the Celtic mysteries.
There is perhaps one human sensation that can be assigned to the state of sleep: bliss. One cannot say we are happy whilst asleep, and neither can we say we are contented either; they are too specific for such an ethereal state of being. Bliss, however, seems to capture the feeling of being in the void, of being back in the lap of the universal battery charger. During our nightly sojourn into the realm of nothingness we become “occult and mysterious things,” and Taliesin in his wisdom attempts to tell us this, to teach us the nature of the spirit. Marged Haycock translates the second line of the verse as “a pale and mysterious thing,”114 which is suggestive of something deeply energetic or spiritual. The permanent facet of our being is a constant, and this ever-changing apparent identity, a product of our environments, is a mere fleeting second in the grand scheme of time, yet it is essential and deeply valued. We do not need to climb a far-flung mountain to meet a wise man who will show us the way to find ourselves; we discover who we are every night whilst asleep. We have no need to abandon the world and all pursuits within it for the delusional concept that we may become so spiritually advanced we will no longer need the functions of our bodies—that we may vanish into a spectrum of light and ascend to some higher level of existence. The message of Taliesin teaches us that such a quest is unnecessary and that all we require is to listen, and in that listening we will hear the whispers of our eternal aspects singing from the primordial origination of the universe.
Taliesin is able to express his nature as all things, having been in a multitude of existences before attaining his current form, simply because his spirit and body are in tune, one with the other. When we study the works of our Celtic ancestors, we find subtle clues pertaining to the human condition; it seems that our forefathers understood that a symptom of human density is the deafening of the spiritual ears. But this is only a temporary quandary, for we are able to experientially connect the lucidity of the spirit with the wakefulness of the body and allow both songs to raise their voices in pure harmony. We do this by listening to the songs of the spirit that our ancestors provided us; locked into the language and symbolism of culture and heritage, they allow us to access the mysteries. We do this to enable the denseness of the body to become receptive to the ethereal quality of the spirit—not for enlightenment per se, but for lucidity. Our eyes open wider to the magic that surrounds us; the secrets that we could not fathom before become clear as the spirit and body combine consciously.
The dense nature of our human bodies and the material components that make up our vital organs are not antagonistic to the spirit, they are simply constructed of different material. But they cannot be separated; to do so would remove the life source from the physical, and it would fall out of the stream of energy and decompose, as our bodies do upon death. Celtic Paganism, being a life-affirming tradition, does not concern itself much with death, but I offer this as food for thought. The simple question that Taliesin asks is indicative of the “little death” that we partake of every day of our lives—that in order to thrive and live we must succumb to a state of nothingness every twenty-four-hour cycle. We are not given the opportunity to opt out of this state; to survive, we must sleep. It is during this time that we return to the state we occupied prior to the condensing of our spirits in the field of our physical forms. The ability to carry the lucidity o
f this state into wakefulness is dependent on the human mind’s ability to acknowledge the spirit and respond. Julius Caeser, in De Bello Gallico, recorded that the ancient druids had no fear of death, for they believed in the immortality of the human spirit and of its continuous existence after bodily death has occurred. The Celtic mysteries teach that upon death, the spirit does not leave the body, it is the body that leaves the spirit—it simply falls from the stream of energy that maintained its life force. The spirit does not move or go anywhere; it is in the same position today as it was at the beginning of time. Sleep serves to reminds of us our true state, where consciousness is a more fluid affair than it is in the denseness of our skulls. Celtica empowers people to hear the whispers of the spirit for themselves; they are not reliant upon gurus or self-confessed masters to bring the spirit and body into harmonious lucidity. There is no sense of denial or abstention; we need not turn our backs on the magic of physicality in order to partake of the mysteries, for they are inescapably woven together. This message is further reiterated by material that alludes to another spirit in human form that shares parallels with Taliesin. In the poetry of the Ystoria Taliesin, we are introduced to the following verse:
Johannes the prophet called me Merlin,
But now all kings call me Taliesin.
Within the same manuscript that our tale appears, NLW 5276D, there is an account of the death of Merlin in the hand of Elis Gruffudd. This immediately precedes the tale of Cerridwen and Taliesin. It is important here not to confuse this material in relation to the fictionalised Merlin popularised in the later Arthurian romances, which are not directly related to the Celtic chronicles. They exist as works of fiction inspired by the Celtic material. In his “The Death of Merlin,” Elis records that
Some hold the thought that Merlin, who was a spirit in human form, was in that shape from the time of Vortigern until the beginning of King Arthur’s time when he vanished. After that this spirit appeared again in the time of Maelgwn Gwynedd at which time he is known as Taliesin…
It seems that the Prophetic Spirit was the same spirit within Merlin and Taliesin, and that both were present in human form during various times.115 It can be deduced that the human individuals they represent were, in fact, initiates of the mysteries and in possession of the Prophetic Spirit, which enabled them to be of immense poetic skill and also adepts of the magical arts. Both Merlin and Taliesin identify themselves as poets and magicians; it seems that both skills are derived from the same place and cause the magician/poet to make manifest what was previously unmanifest. However, there is an implication here that may cause concern, which requires examination.
We noted that Cerridwen is “learned” in the magical arts, and yet Taliesin and Merlin, who are both adept practitioners of magic, seemingly did not derive their skills by means of learning alone. They are in possession of an inherited skill that comes to them by proxy of their connection to the Prophetic Spirit. This does not imply that one form of magical attainment and knowledge is superior to the other; I believe the implication is that both are a requirement for the effective practise of the magical arts. Within human form we must learn the arts of magic and the mysteries by proxy of those who inspire and teach us; they, in turn, disseminate that teaching effectively because of their connection to the Prophetic Spirit. It sings of the essential connection of the body and spirit. The process of learning itself is devoid of power or ability if is not in contact with the “force” that gives it animation and motion. A spell or act of conjuration would simply be a recitation of words without reaction; for the magic to be effective, we must access what gives it essence and power: the Prophetic Spirit. To call upon it without connection would be akin to shouting at someone across a dance floor—your voice may rise and move through space and time but not reach its destination, as there is too much dense material in the way. Even if the words arrive by some means at their target, they will be illegible and nonsensical; their impact and intention would be ineffective. Our magic is effective when the voice transcends the denseness of matter and connects directly with what it aims to affect, change, or transform.
The message is clear: Cerridwen epitomises aspects of the physical art of learning, of study, of knowing our Craft. Taliesin acts as the bridge that connects us to the universal flow of Awen by means of the Prophetic Spirit. For us to move lucidly through life we must be in possession of both facets, the structure of learning and the ethereal quality of the Prophetic Spirit. Both are essential aspects of the adept.
The ability to swim between the two is perfectly articulated in the discourse of The Life of Merlin: Vita Merlini:
I was taken out of myself and I was as spirit, and I knew the acts of peoples past and could predict the future of things. Since then I know the secrets of things and the flights of birds and the wandering motions of the stars and the gliding of fish.116
The above serves to demonstrate the power and ability of the Prophetic Spirit. It is all-knowing, it has the ability to predict the future of things, and is simultaneously aware of the existence of all things by means of the omnipresent spirit. By proxy of this connection, Taliesin is able to fully assert his powers over time, space, objects, and the shape of things. He does this by means of the combined magical transformation that occurs throughout the tale; the sequence is teaching us how to access the mysteries and provides us with every single tool that is required. In other words, reading the book is not enough; we must also get out there and do it by putting the information into action and being transformed as a consequence. It is the resulting lucidity of mind, body, and spirit that is expressed by means of the Prophetic Spirit in our earthly lives.
Taliesin continuously sings the praise of the human body and its function and senses; it is a vital aspect of the combined elements of mind, body, and spirit. The body is never denied or denounced as it is in some Eastern philosophies. In the Book of Taliesin we are offered the following verse, which sings the praise of the bodily senses:
I give praise to my sustainer,
Who added through my head
A spirit into my design.
Happily it is made for me,
My seven consistencies
Of fire and earth
And water and air
And mist and flowers
And sweet southerly winds.
My senses were designed
One with which I exhale,
And two with which I breathe,
And three by which I have voice,
And four with which I taste,
And five with which I see,
And six with which I hear,
And seven by which I smell.117
The above demonstrates the vitality and value placed on the senses, where they are experienced as essential elements that connect us to the experience of living. Taliesin expresses himself as an extension of nature, where components of it are imbued into the body and spirit; they are inseparable until the point at which we die. This deeply animistic viewpoint values the earth and earthly life, for it is an essential expression of the universe’s creative force. The Prophetic Spirit is therefore the epitome of the mind, body, and spirit in unison; its outward expression is that of creativity and magic. The importance of poetry and the arts in expressing Awen is a recurring theme in the Celtic material, for realistically we are only able to articulate this connection by means of our creativity. We have seen how the Prophetic Spirit is also able to prophesy the future and divine the nature of things, a task which Taliesin performs in several prophetic poems contained within the Book of Taliesin. We find teachings of deep, old magic in this sequence of verses, for the body is a pathway to the spirit; before we can ascend into the subtle realms, we must live, we must complete the descent into matter. The keys to the spiritual are tied into the land and the bodies of the physical world; every tree and plant, plankton and mountain, child and woman sings of the origin and meaning of the univ
erse. Our brows are literally alight with the magic of it; we need only shift our awareness in order to perceive it. Taliesin and the spirit he represents is one method of attaining this lucid state of being.
• • •
Taliesin speaks of talents and gifts that seem to directly emulate the abilities of Cerridwen as a witch. He also claims to be a magician and says, “Wyf dryw, wyf syw (I am a wizard, I am a sage).”118
Marged Haycock translates the term dryw to mean “wizard,” and this effectively captures the spirit of the word, which may also be translated as “magician.” However, it also means “wren” and is cognate with the Old Irish drui, which can be taken to mean “druid.” Therefore, one could argue that the term dryw may have been the actual indigenous British word for “druid.” The term syw, meaning “sage,” is also indicative of the wisdom required by the magician in the pursuits of his arts. He is learned, wise, and clearly in possession of the Prophetic Spirit. Through the words of Taliesin it is apparent that magic, poetry, and wisdom are expressive components of the mysteries; they provide us with a notion as to the nature of the initiate and the skills that he or she possesses. These facts surmise that the Celtic mystery traditions are indeed magical traditions, not simply facets of celebration and philosophy. Magical transformation and the practise of the subtle arts are byproducts of immersion in the Celtic mysteries.
The poems of Taliesin have been noted and explored throughout the course of this book. Indeed, the actual qualities of Taliesin can be seen swimming within every other archetype and component of the tale; everything is leading up to this point of being. Becoming Taliesin is the true nature and secret of the mystery. Taliesin may be identified as a demigod or other creature of supernatural origin, but this is not the point of the tale. Everything we have encountered thus far serves to guide us to become Taliesin.
From the Cauldron Born Page 24