Experience the sacredness held within the voice and tradition of Irish oral storytelling. Enjoy at your leisure - maybe curled up with a warm cuppa tea or held within the wild embrace of the magical natural world that surrounds you.
Mo ghrá go léir / All my love,
Erica
“Éiníní, éiníní / Codalaígí, codalaígí”
[Little birds, little birds / Go to sleep, go to sleep]
- lines from a traditional Irish suantraí
For me there is a tranquility to December. And on the days where fluffy snowflakes fall from the heavens, I can feel the spirit of nature gently lulling me into the sweetness of her embrace.
Her delicate lilts invite me to surrender deeper into myself, to a place beyond the border of bone. Here, I am home — in the sacred place where heart, spirit, and nature meet, perhaps in the dreamscape of enchanted sleep.
And, I wonder: what if each snowflake that lands upon a smiling eyelash were so much more than a single flurry — but rather, a consecrated kiss from an Cailleach?
What if each cherished crystal were an ancient grandmother’s benediction? One that calls you to rest — to dream — into the temple of your being. The winter of her years welcoming your every prayer, as they carefully land within the promise of her wise hands.
As I placed the final touches on A Winter’s Gift, this was the view from my window
All was still and silent.
Science may say it’s acoustic attenuation. The answer found in the snow’s ability to absorb sound.
But to me, it feels like magic. An invitation from nature to pause. A reminder from her to breathe. A gift from her to unwrap — holding a sigh of relief. Revealing a moment to relish in the majesty of a wonder-filled world.
Or perhaps, this is where science and spirit meet? In a hallowed place where “polar opposites” can commune and create.
For us humans, sometimes the ability to experience contrast can be challenging. At this time of year in particular, for those of us with tender hearts that ache with grief, the thought of one less plate or the empty chair can feel difficult navigate.
This is when I look to the snow.
For in its company I know I am not alone — and that the sacred grandmother, an Cailleach, is near.
Being of Irish and French ancestry, I continue to be reverently grateful to the traditional spirits and keepers of the land [past, present, and forth-coming] of the unceded and unsurrendered territory of the Algonquin Anishinabeg People; where I was born and currently reside.
Culture, language, and stories run within the rivers and are held within the stones of landscapes. Míle buíochas, a thousand thanks, for the opportunity to share stories alongside you.
Every kind gesture means the world.
Buíochas ó chroí / Heartfelt thanks,
Erica
Want to hear more about Erica’s creative process and relating to the spirits of stories?
Stay tuned for an upcoming episode of KnotWork Myth & Storytelling. Where Erica shares in story and conversation with the marvellous Marisa Goudy (myth worker, story healer, and writing coach of Myth is Medicine. Words are Magic.) reflecting on the past year, the wonders of myth work, and the enchanting endeavours of living with an artist heart.
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