Sometimes, plastic tat rules.

I made a confession yesterday; I like things that are kitsch and silly and just a bit tacky.  Not all the time, we like lovely wooden toys and handmade things, chickens and bees and wholesome country living and all that kind of thing.  Sometimes though, I see something so delightfully, whimsically... shit that I just have to have it.

Take these guys, for example.  Some serious spellcasting going on here:

And my favourite recent find; because every child should have plastic action figures depicting their gods, check out the pure awesomeness that is Gwyn Ap Nudd, the Schleich version:

Well OK, apparently it's the elven lord something or other according to Schleich, but what do they know?

The History of the Heart part two: Being the Bards.

So, I wrote quite passionately a couple of weeks ago about why sharing the mythology of our land and our people is so important.  This time, I'm going to attempt be a bit more practical and share how we go about bringing the stories alive; starting with the birth of Taliesin.  To me, this is an obvious starting point as it is by far the most exciting and dynamic story from a three year old point of view.  Others are going to present more of a challenge, but should be lots of fun to find creative ways of interpreting them!

Usually a book is a good starting point.  So far, we have not found a good children's version of the tale aimed at younger/preschool children.  I actually think this has turned out to be a blessing; remember that these tales were originally part of an oral tradition and as such should be committed to memory rather than just being read from a page.  We have always told the tale from memory and embellished it as we see fit at the time, in true bardic style.

I have been busy recently putting together a story sack:

The print is by the wonderful Wendy Andrews.  We have a larger version that we've been using until now as a visual prompt when we tell the story.  The laminated photo is of Gethin at Llyn Tegid.  The idea is to make it all fun by giving him a way of playing with and re-enacting it; we all know it's much easier to remember things that are fun! There are so many ways to adapt this idea, someone crafty could make fabric finger puppets depicting the transformations or carve them out of lovely tactile wood.  I've tried to do it on a bit of a budget using second hand toys and ebay bargains and I actually like the fact that it's a bit tacky; Gwion Bach as depicted by Playmobil, how fabulous is that!

Some of the other ways we have explored the story so far are:

Visiting Llyn Tegid; an absolutely amazing place and so lovely to be able to say 'this is where it all happened!'.  Obviously not everyone can manage that, but visiting a nearby lake or even looking at pictures of the lake would be good.  While we were there recently we burned some incense as an offering and said thank you to Cerridwen and Taliesin for their inspiration (anything involving burning stuff is a hit with our 3 year old..).  We also talked about the Awen, sang some Awens and made pretty pictures with our shadows:

Obviously we did lots of other very fun stuff like skimming stones, paddling and 'fishing', too!

Making 'potions': this has been one of Gethin's favourite things to do for a while.  If you don't have a spare cauldron lying around then even a bucket and a wooden spoon will do just fine with a bit of imagination.  This game can be adapted to suit the current need, Gethin will happily potter around by himself while I'm busy nearby but it's more fun if we do it together.  Also fantastic for teaching the names of different plants, we like to do a treasure hunt where I challenge him to find different ingredients.  Kids from many Pagan families will already be playing this as they love to copy what they see mum and dad doing.

Actually physically acting out the story: well yes, anything involving chasing each other around being different animals and trying to eat each other is probably going to be a hit with most young children!

Our next challenge is going to be the first branch of the Mabinogi.  So far so good, it involves a monster getting its hand chopped off so has instant appeal to most small boys...


Blessings of Imbolc/Gwyl Ffraid

Just a quick one today to share a few photos, very tired and very full of cold but we had a lovely day.  We went on an expedition to find lambs and snowdrops with Gethin's friends H and E.   We should definitely have more winter picnics! We kept it simple, lit a few candles and said a few words but mostly had fun and looked for signs of the changing season. It was a long walk for little legs, but eventually we discovered lambs and enjoyed a few flakes of snow.

Our gradually evolving seasonal altar:

The History of the Heart, part one.

First of all, I’d just like to make something clear; it may appear from reading this blog that we’re somehow ‘hot housing’ our children or forcing them to learn solely about our own religion and culture.  This is far from being the case; obviously I only write about the things we do that are relevant to readers.  Gethin is a devotee of the Gruffalo and an initiate into the mysteries of Peppa Pig as much as any other 3 year old.  We read very widely and encourage him to learn anything that interests him.  Most of all, we play.

Having said that, you must forgive me for putting much more effort and love into teaching some stories than others.  This is no accident.  The stories of the great children’s bard of our time, Julia Donaldson need no embellishment to appeal to a young child;  the same, sadly cannot be said of the mythology of our people. The stories of Cerridwen and Taliesin, Pwyll and Pryderi, Branwen daughter of Llyr, Gwydion and Lleu, King Arthur and his journey into the Underworld.  Even Sioned Davies and Marged Haycock (may they be praised) can only do so much to enliven words that were written down in the 14^th century by a dusty scribe who probably understood very little of the true meaning of the words he preserved in ink and vellum.   These stories are part of an oral tradition; they were never meant to be frozen in time.  We should learn them by a fireside, from the lips of a travelling bard accompanied by the music of a harp; allowed to stay up past our bedtime, at our father’s knee we should be awestruck at the beauty and wonder and magic of these tales.   We should drink them in with our mother’s milk, act them out in play, and sing songs about them.  That this doesn’t happen is a great tragedy.

Why tragedy? Because mythology is the history of the heart.  Is it any wonder that the British people feel the need to seek answers in the mythologies of any number of cultures around the world? We have lost the heart of our own people, the stories of our land and our ancestors.  They have been suppressed, rendered dry and dull when they should be anything but.  As a child I read voraciously and was especially interested in mythology; I was well versed in the stories of the Norse, Greek and Roman gods (there are even children’s’ books about them!) and of course the Judeo-Christian myths were taught at school and in church.  Why, then, was I in my twenties and searching…and searching…for meaning before I finally learned the stories of my own people? I have Philip Carr Gomm and OBOD to thank in part, and also the delectable Kris Hughes for taking dry, dusty words and teaching me to unlock the magic that lies therein.

All of this is a very long winded way of saying; we need to be the bards for our children.  Let’s reclaim our heritage and give them the gift of their own, very rich mythology.   It is part of their birthright. 

And as I've waffled on so much, there will be a part two; how we go about being the bards for our children :-)