Tairseachas
While singing during the morning session of the Celtic spirituality retreat I went into meditation and saw myself wearing a dark blue cloak with a triple goddess spiral clasp at the throat. I was wearing tall boots and splashing in huge puddles that created rain when I stomped. I was near the bee hive hut where I first met Fiona, the white horse.
Fiona was the name I ‘heard’ while our group was with her the day before and it wasn’t until I was researching the origin of it that my jaw dropped: it is a Latinized form of the Gaelic word meaning ‘white’ or ‘fair.’ Maybe I remember Gaelic after all.
Back to the vision…
When I met Fiona I jumped on her back with no reins or saddle because no self-respecting free spirit would ever allow herself to be controlled. With her mane and my long hair flying we flew through the star-filled sky. Freedom and power!
The stomping in the vision was a proclamation of power. This is who I am! This is the leaping-off place!
After the gathering, each of us went off on our own for a Threshold walk. In Celtic Spirituality, Thresholds are important markers. They are inner doorways, places between two worlds, transitions from one place to another, but there are physical expressions of them: mists, doorways, gateways.
On my walk I was greeted by a sweet black and white dog and so turned in the direction he led. Immediately after turning I saw a beautiful dapple horse on the hill near the cafe. Down the lane and past the Irish Cob and her filly….my feet carried me to see Fiona.
After walking down the steep hill and through the stile in the rock wall, through small rock-enclosed pastures I came to the bog just before the bee hive hut. Water was standing almost knee-deep in places due to heavy rains. I was just one pasture away from the hut so the only choice was to move forward.
Rain gear keeps rain off. Gore-tex boots are waterproof….unless water is over the ankles. As I splashed through the water, lifting my feet high for efficiency, I remembered the vision and the powerful stomping. This is who I am! This is the leaping off point!
After sloshing and stomping through the bog I crested the small hill to find Fiona waiting for me. I fed her sweet grass and then ducked into the stone hut, where a monk from perhaps the 8th century had lived and others after him, and squatted out of the rain.
Fiona stuck her head inside and whinnied. She wanted so badly to be out of the rain. I fed her large handfuls of lush grass from another pasture before leaving her–consolation for her lack of shelter. And I thanked her for being a guide to the Otherworld for me and assisting in my moving through the Threshold to freedom.
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Tairseachas….Gateway….Portal…Threshold