Her Time Has Come
The blue light has shifted from navy to periwinkle. Soon, dawn will come but for now we are paused in the in-between, a liminal place. There is a hush, and then she rises slowly, joints cracking her body into place. She was not born from a mother. Oh no. The Cailleach has always been. She is the one who began us. The story goes that she rose from slumber to a flat world. As her old and weathered feet stepped across the land she dropped rocks from her apron. Those stones became our mountains and hills. Today she wakes in her cave, the blue light washing over hammering waves and crawling along the stone to meet her gaze. Her skin is worn with weather, lines along her face like rivulets of water on the sides of a waterfall. She does not smile nor does she frown. Her slumber was deep and it is time to reclaim what is her's.
Layers of wool clothing and blankets wrap themselves around her as she pulls on earth worn boots. Grabbing her walking stick next to the entrance she glances back to make sure the fire is still burning. When the light touches her forehead she allows its warmth to hold her. Letting go of that warmth, she connects to the land, pushing the cold slowly into it. Tracing leaves with her fingers a fine frost follows in their wake. Breathing deep she holds the air, letting it go while all the trees drop their leaves in response.
She is change. The winter. The cold. The wild and unpredictable weather that drives mortals indoors to respect her reign. Foxes run between her legs, excited for their goddess' return. Along her walk she collects firewood. By late afternoon she has coaxed the sun to lower a bit faster. Smiling at her work she turns toward the wild coast and disappears into the rocks leading down to the cave. She'll return tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.
She is today, as she was yesterday, as she will be tomorrow. Eventually the land will warm itself and another goddess will step forward.
But right now? The Cailleach reigns.
Why the Cailleach?
The Cailleach is a Celtic goddess of Ireland and Scotland. My ancestors are from the Scottish Highlands and this story rattles in my bones. The wild coast, forests, foxes, the edge of the world where rock and waves meet. Some say that she is actually Brigid (goddess of light/spring) who turns into the Cailleach. Others say that the Cailleach falls asleep so that Brigid may step forward. There are even more iterations of her. But what is known is that she is depicted as an old woman. These days we see old woman as frail, but in the myths of old, they are far from weak. The Cailleach is all of life's hardships, beauty, creation, and wisdom personified.
What does she teach you?
Some questions to ponder this winter.
*As you age, what are you happy to leave behind?
*What has winter taught you? About yourself? About life?
*What wild rattles inside of you?
*Do your bones call to a certain land? Ancestry?
In Practice
In the morning, wrap a blanket around your shoulders and step outside. Let the cold air shock your lungs. Once the cold air is in you, lift your head to where the light is coming.
Repeat in your mind or out loud, "She is here. I am here."
Allow the Cailleach to remind you of the incredible badass you are.
