Children of the Gods
Pagan folk were the Irish before they learned of Christ and melded their stories with those the Christians brought from the Holy Roman Empire. Those who were of the Tuatha de Danaan often became saints within the Church, and the stories changed only in small ways. The Irish have long believed, but often use different words to describe their beliefs. ‘tis actually one and the same. Or so my mother told me.
The story, as she was told, was about Airmeith. She was a good and caring child, growing with her brother, Miach, and learning from their father Diancecht, all the knowledge of the herbs of the Earth. Diancecht was the most renowned healer and physician to the Tuatha de Danaan, and he was called on by Nuada, King of the Tuatha de Danaan, when he had his arm severed in a battle. Diancecht took his children, Airmeith and Miach with him to assist, and it soon became clear that his children had much greater skill than he. Where he would create an arm of pure silver to replace the King’s arm, Airmeith regenerated the King’s limb itself. Miach then used superior surgical skills, and reattached the arm to the King, knowing that without a fully functioning, and perfect body, Nuada would be unable to remain king, by the laws of the Tuatha de Danaan. In a fit of anger and jealousy over his knowledge, Diancecht stabbed his own son, not once, but three times, and each time, Miach’s skills allowed him to heal himself. Finally, his rage so great, Diancecht severed his son’s brain from his body, and walked away, never showing any regret in his action. Airmeith had her own specialty, knowing all the herbs and plants of the Earth and what they could do to heal others. She was devastated at her brother’s death, and often visited his grave. One day, she found 365 herbs growing atop his grave site, one for each joint and organ in Miach’s body. Airmeith began to gather the herbs, and to her surprise, the began to talk with her, and tell her the full range of their healing powers. She carefully arranged them on her cloak, each according to its properties and abilities, and using the herbs, she helped to heal people who needed medical attention. Not surprisingly, for the Tuatha de Danaan were as petty as any other false gods, Airmeith’s father caused a wind to scatter the herbs to the four corners of the world, knowing that only Airmeith would be able to know what the herbs did, and preventing the knowledge of immortality in using them, from being used by anyone else. Airmeith, however, left her father and his people, and stayed in the mountains of Ireland, teaching people how to listen and test for the knowledge the herbs had to give.
It is Airmeith’s knowledge which was handed down, generation to generation among the Irish, and how we learn to test new plants today. Listening, child, my mother would say, is with more than your ears, but also with your heart and mind, your tastes and touch, your nose and eyes.
And thus, we have the way that I was taught of herbs from my mother, and how I will teach my apprentices to know herbs from me. However, as my mother oft pointed out, God gave us our wits for a reason, and we should know to learn from whatever sources we have available. We can learn from scholars, from doctors who study the bodies of the dead, in order to help the bodies of the living, from farmers who note what plants the creatures of the wild will eat, and what effect they have on them. We can learn from the herbs themselves, if we learn to listen correctly. And so first, you must learn to be still, to watch, to listen, to smell, to taste, to touch. We begin with learning what might be wrong with a person.
In reading this diary, I am learning much of my ancestor. Of course, I’m also learning that much like reading Hildegard von Bingen’s work, she is a product of her time. If I am going to share her incredible insights and stories, I also have to be responsible enough to share modern knowledge and insights from our own time.
Like other firsts in the generation, I too became an herbalist, and have studied for over 20 years. Perhaps my additions can help my own progeny…
There will be times when I truly disagree with something Angelika says, but only because science has proved her wrong. Hopefully, the historical value will mean something.
The story, as she was told, was about Airmeith. She was a good and caring child, growing with her brother, Miach, and learning from their father Diancecht, all the knowledge of the herbs of the Earth. Diancecht was the most renowned healer and physician to the Tuatha de Danaan, and he was called on by Nuada, King of the Tuatha de Danaan, when he had his arm severed in a battle. Diancecht took his children, Airmeith and Miach with him to assist, and it soon became clear that his children had much greater skill than he. Where he would create an arm of pure silver to replace the King’s arm, Airmeith regenerated the King’s limb itself. Miach then used superior surgical skills, and reattached the arm to the King, knowing that without a fully functioning, and perfect body, Nuada would be unable to remain king, by the laws of the Tuatha de Danaan. In a fit of anger and jealousy over his knowledge, Diancecht stabbed his own son, not once, but three times, and each time, Miach’s skills allowed him to heal himself. Finally, his rage so great, Diancecht severed his son’s brain from his body, and walked away, never showing any regret in his action. Airmeith had her own specialty, knowing all the herbs and plants of the Earth and what they could do to heal others. She was devastated at her brother’s death, and often visited his grave. One day, she found 365 herbs growing atop his grave site, one for each joint and organ in Miach’s body. Airmeith began to gather the herbs, and to her surprise, the began to talk with her, and tell her the full range of their healing powers. She carefully arranged them on her cloak, each according to its properties and abilities, and using the herbs, she helped to heal people who needed medical attention. Not surprisingly, for the Tuatha de Danaan were as petty as any other false gods, Airmeith’s father caused a wind to scatter the herbs to the four corners of the world, knowing that only Airmeith would be able to know what the herbs did, and preventing the knowledge of immortality in using them, from being used by anyone else. Airmeith, however, left her father and his people, and stayed in the mountains of Ireland, teaching people how to listen and test for the knowledge the herbs had to give.
It is Airmeith’s knowledge which was handed down, generation to generation among the Irish, and how we learn to test new plants today. Listening, child, my mother would say, is with more than your ears, but also with your heart and mind, your tastes and touch, your nose and eyes.
And thus, we have the way that I was taught of herbs from my mother, and how I will teach my apprentices to know herbs from me. However, as my mother oft pointed out, God gave us our wits for a reason, and we should know to learn from whatever sources we have available. We can learn from scholars, from doctors who study the bodies of the dead, in order to help the bodies of the living, from farmers who note what plants the creatures of the wild will eat, and what effect they have on them. We can learn from the herbs themselves, if we learn to listen correctly. And so first, you must learn to be still, to watch, to listen, to smell, to taste, to touch. We begin with learning what might be wrong with a person.
INTERLUDE
In reading this diary, I am learning much of my ancestor. Of course, I’m also learning that much like reading Hildegard von Bingen’s work, she is a product of her time. If I am going to share her incredible insights and stories, I also have to be responsible enough to share modern knowledge and insights from our own time.
Like other firsts in the generation, I too became an herbalist, and have studied for over 20 years. Perhaps my additions can help my own progeny…
There will be times when I truly disagree with something Angelika says, but only because science has proved her wrong. Hopefully, the historical value will mean something.
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