Hopman - A Druids Herbal for the Sacred Earth Year

A dhaoine Sidhe;
A Tuatha D Danann;
Beannachta D Danann oraibh aqus orainn

O People of the Sidhe;
O Peoples of the Goddess Dana;
The blessings of the Goddess Dana upon you and upon us.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Some of the formulas are based on research rather than personal experience. Readers comments are welcome and encouraged.

My grateful thanks to Anna Kirwan-Vogel for her patient and thoughtful editing and to Emma Leah Tailleir, Paul Eagle, and Margaret Howe for their computer wizardry. Thanks are due to Dr. Paul Eric Smith for assistance with the Latin taxonomy. Many thanks to Stewart Farrar for permission to use the blessing that appears in the dedication.

Buochas le hEadhmonn Ua Cuinn as ucht sleachta as Gaelige at in sid sa leabhar seo. Go raibh maith agat Alexei Kondratiev for deepening my appreciation of the Celtic mysteries.

TO BRIGHID, PATRONESS OF THE DRUIDS AND BARDS

Beloved Brighid of the triple flame,
Daughter of the Dagda,
Guardian of the sacred springs
Whose voice is the soul of the harp
We call on Thee.
Teach our hands to heal and our hearts to sing.
We entrust our lifes progress to your care
and ask that you shape us,
bending and turning our hearts on your bright anvil of flame
till we are made perfect jewels
fit to be set in the Eye of your timeless harp
to play for the Soul of the people in times of sorrow
and times of celebration.
We thank you for your gifts to us of Poetry and Music
of laughter and tears,
and for the healing balm of your Wisdom.
May we always remember to meditate
on the gift of your sacred waters,
which surround us at our birth
and sail us to our destiny.
Our hearts are open to receive your blessings.
Midwife of our souls, rain on us,
shower your inspiration in curtains of song
from sacred waterfalls in the realm where you dwell.
Come to us as Virgin with the soft smell of flowers.
Come to us as Mother and feed us your fruits.
Come to us as the Wise Woman in the stark blasts of Winter.
Help us to see your Mystery in all creation,
that we may know gratitude and reverence.
Our hearts sing to you with love.
Teach us to change like the revolving seasons.
Teach us to grow like the green corn that feeds the people.
Teach us to fashion beauty like the stillness of the forest pool
and the roar of the ocean wave.
Teach us to heal like the soothing gem which cools the eyes and
restores the limbs.
With humility and bright expectation
We invoke Thee this hour!

Introduction

Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live (Exod. 22:18) is the Biblical injunction most often used to condemn those who practice the ancient Earth religions. Biblical scholars, however, will attest that before the King James Version of the Bible, scripture would have read thou shalt not suffer a poisoner to live.

Imagine the course of history if that injunction had been heeded. Instead of burning helpless women and men, the inquisitors might have gone after the industries and individuals who poison the water, the air, and the Earth and her children.

Modern folk have at last begun to contemplate the effects of ignoring nature in science, in daily life, and in religion. Too long have we been viewing the Earth as Gods footstool. Human civilization begins to look like a creeping cancer: cells out of control, each person going his or her own way ignoring the needs of other living beings. It is time to stop and begin again to honor the Earth and her rhythms.

How to begin? Sometimes the most moving ritual is one performed alone, sitting on the Earth, singing to a tree or a stone, dancing beneath the moon and sky, offering a gift of herbs to the sacred directions.

This is a book designed to inspire solitary and communal activities. My belief is that the Old Way must and will be the way of the future, if we are to have one. May these pages go forth as a blessing to the sun kings and queens, the fully illumined ones. May our efforts reopen the walls between the worlds until these, our elder brothers and sisters, walk with us again. May their light pierce the dark of the shadows that have too long held us apart. By the Three Worlds may this be so.

The central myth of the herbal healer is the story of Diancecht and his son Miach. Diancecht, the God of medicine, became jealous when his sons reputation as a healer eclipsed his own. Diancecht called for his son and hit him on the head with a sword. Miach easily healed himself. Diancecht struck him again, cutting him to the very bone. Miach cured himself a second time. Then the father struck his sons skull through to the brain, but Miach was able to heal himself once more. Finally, Diancecht cleaved Miachs brain in two, and this time the son died.

Diancecht buried his son, and thrice hundred and sixty-five herbs emerged from Miachs body. Each one was a cure for the illnesses of the three hundred sixty-five nerves of the human body. (This is probably a reference to a now lost astronomical plant classification system.)

Airmid, Miachs sister, carefully gathered the herbs and arranged them on her cloak in the shape of a human to denote their properties and show where they were useful in the human body. Diancecht, ever jealous, kicked the cloak and scattered the herbs, confusing their positions. If it hadnt been for his actions, we moderns would know the cure for every illness and we would be immortal, according to the ancients.

Hidden in this mystery lies the mystical secret of the herbal healers art. The green herbs of the fields represent the body of the God (the Green Man), which is sacred and immortal. When an herbalist gathers herbs, she or he is dismembering the God, and when administering them to the body that is sick, she is ritually reuniting the lost pieces of the God and bringing the world back into wholeness.

Written on the full moon in Cutios (March) 1991 c.e.

CHAPTER 1

THE DRUIDS

Who were the Druids? The ancient poet-priests and -priestesses who have inspired so much reverence and so much nonsense since they were replaced by Christianity in the fifth century C.E . have been credited with the building of Stonehenge (not true), with being Atlanteans (no evidence), and with being a lost tribe of Israel (doubtful). Eighteenth-century romantics such as John Toland and Henry Hurle (both Freemasons) have bequeathed to us the image of the white-garbed, bearded, male priest with a sickle.

History has generally chosen to ignore the ancients testimony to the existence of female Druidswhole islands of themand Tacitus description of the black-clad screaming Druidesses who attempted to fight off the Romans at Anglesey in 61 C.E .

The Irish archdruid was described by his contemporaries as wearing the skin of a white bull and a white-feathered headdress with fluttering wings, or a many-colored cloak and ornaments of gold. The white robes we moderns envision were worn for specific rituals such as gathering sacred herbs.

The Tain Bo Cuailnge is an ancient Gaelic tale from the La Tene (Iron Age) pre-Roman civilization. It is the oldest vernacular epic in Western literature. From it, we can glean some references to the Druids and their functions. According to the Tain, Druids could shape-change into deer and prophesy the future.