Nornir Walking Among Us

       Norns. Picture from the public domain

Nornir [1] the word conjures, usually and stereotypically, the image of three old women sitting together and spinning. A cliché born from the influence exercised by the image of the Moirai, the goddesses of fate in Greek mythology? Maybe. Or maybe the image of the spinning Nornir is rooted into something so deeply ingrained in human thought that the simple mentioning of fate and destiny brings to mind the act of spinning.  Like their Greek counterparts, the Norns influence fate, albeit differently:

 

“Urð one is called, Verðandi another –

they carved on a wooden slip – Skuld is the third;

they laid down laws, they chose lives

for the sons of men, the fates of men.”

(Voluspa, Poetic Edda, Carolyn Larrington translation, Oxford University Press, UK, 2014, p.6)

 

While the Greek Goddesses of Fate spin, measure and cut the thread allotted for a person’s lifespan, the Norns lay out fate by “spinning” words. The words the Norns speak are laden with power. Speaking words of power is spinning magic with words.  The Norns spin and string words into sentences which are then woven into the fabric of events.

 

The three Nornir’ names are indicative of their roles. Urð, Verðandi and Skuld are usually translated as Past, Present and Future which is simplistic. More accurately, Urð and Verðanti are related to the verb verða, to be, reflecting a specific nuance, to become rather than generically, existing or finding oneself in a certain state. Skuld, literally means debt. Skuld is cognate to the English word “should”. These suggest that the name Skuld does not indicate random future events but, by analogy with paying a debt, it refers specifically to events that occur as results of actions already completed. (Ben Waggoner, “Our Troth: Volume 2”, Troth Publications, 2021, p.512; Karen Bek-Pedersen, “The Norns in Old Norse Mythology”, Edinburgh: Dunedin, 2011, pp. 78-79)

 

Nornir lay out the various premises for things to happen. They call into being the protagonists who will engender the fates crafted by them. And as the Norse myth tells, protagonists actions lay the foundation for future events to unfold, which is, according to the myths, a new layer of fate sunk into Urðabrunnr, the Well of Urð. The name Urð has the additional meaning fate, which means that Urðabrunnr is not any mythical well but a repository of fate with its multiple layers of causality and projected futures. 

 

The Old Norse word for fate is ørlog, although linguistically, the Old English/Anglo-Saxon wyrd is closer.  The Nornir lay into the well slips of wood on which they inscribed people’s fates. In the utterances of the Norns, words are the pieces of fibers to be spun and woven into what becomes yet another layer of ørlog into the Well. 

 

While Urð, Verðandi, and Skuld are the best-known ones, they are not the only Norns in Norse myth. In the Prose Edda, Snorri Sturluson mentions two categories: the greater Norns whose actions reverberate at a cosmic level, and the lesser Norns who apparently visit every child when it is born and speak its destiny. There is great diversity among Nornir:

 

“Which are those norns who get to help those in need

And bring forth children from their mothers?”

“From very different tribes I think the norns come,

They are not of the same kin;

Some come from the Æsir, some from the elves, 

Some are daughters of Dvalin”

(Fafnismál, Poetic Edda, Carolyn Larrington translation, Oxford University Press, UK, 2014, p.155)

 

When determining the fate of warriors on battlefields, the Valkyries act in the capacity of Norns. Darraðarljoð, a poem included in Njál saga gives us a glimpse of how Valkyries act to shape the outcome of a battle, by weaving the fate of combatants. Darraðarljoð tells about Valkyries deciding the outcome in the battle of Clontarf which took place in 1014 near Dublin, Ireland. 

 

"See! warp is stretched 

For warriors' fall, 

Lo! weft in loom 

'Tis wet with blood;

Now fight foreboding, '

Neath friends' swift fingers, 

Our grey woof waxeth

With war's alarms, 

Our warp bloodred, 

Our weft corpseblue.

"This woof is y-woven 

With entrails of men, 

This warp is hardweighted 

With heads of the slain, 

Spears blood-besprinkled 

For spindles we use,

Our loom ironbound, 

And arrows our reels; 

With swords for our shuttles 

This war-woof we work; 

So weave we, weird sisters, 

Our warwinning woof.

[…]

"Now mount we our horses, 

Now bare we our brands, 

Now haste we hard, maidens, 

Hence far, far, away."

Then they plucked down the Woof and tore it asunder, and each kept what she had hold of.”

(Darraðarljoð, Njál saga, Ch 157, Magnus Magnusson and Herman Palsson translation, Penguin Classics, 1960)

 

It is largely agreed that the Norns decide upon the circumstances of one’s birth and death and to a certain extent about milestones on one’s life path. However, the human protagonists are not helpless marionettes at the hands of invisible powers pulling strings. Individuals have agency and they must play to the best of their abilities the hand dealt them by the Norns.  Norse myth, and the Heathen ethos rooted in it, encourage people to make the most out of life in Midgard. Even for the incapacitated, life is worth living: an industrious man is appreciated and can make an honorable living. 

 

“A lame man rides a horse, a handless man drives a herd,

a deaf man fights effectively;

a blind man is better than a burned one would be;

no one has use for a corpse.”

(Havámál 71, “Havámál: A New Translation” Ben Waggoner, Troth Publications, 2017)

 

One’s fate being laid out by Norns does not prompt a fatalistic outlook on life. It is rather an invitation to live fearlessly and build a good reputation to be remembered by.  Reputation is the direct result of one’s deeds. Warriors, for example, would oftentimes go to extremes to earn a reputation because good reputation held huge value in Norse societies. 

 

“Cattle die, relatives die,

you yourself die likewise;

but glorious reputation never dies

for anyone who gets a good one for himself.”

(Havámál 76, “Havámál: A New Translation” Ben Waggoner, Troth Publications, 2017)

 

The deeds that make a persons’ reputation also contribute to the shaping of ørlog and so, in the greater scheme of things, one does not leave footprints only through the immediate outcome of their actions. Such a footprint makes a person a direct contributor to the sacred Well whose waters feed and nourish Yggdrasill. The future of the Worlds, all ecosystems aggregating around Yggdrasill, depend on what kind of layers are laid in the Well’s waters: footprints feed into ørlog. Based on their quality, such footprints will foster growth and healing or fuel conflict and destruction. 

 

Norns’ action touch upon all levels of reality across all the planes of existence. They measure the length and also decide upon the quality and type of thread for everyone’s destiny, including the gods’ destinies. Worried about a recurring dream that troubles his son, Baldr, Oðinn goes to the gates of Helheim where an ancient völva is buried. Oðinn uses his magic to awaken the woman from her long sleep and questions her about the past, the future and about Baldr’s fate. Oðinn finds out that his beloved son is destined to die. 

 

“I saw for Baldr, for the bloody god,

Odin’s child, his fate in store;”

(Poetic Edda, Völúspa 32 Carolyne Larrington translation p.8)

 

But the prophecy also talks about a younger brother of Baldr avenging him. The prophecy appears to be set it stone while at the same time it isn't. If Oðinn wants the death of Baldr avenged, he must father another son. 

 

“Baldr’s brother was born quickly;

Odin’s son started killing at one night old.

He never washed his hands not combed his hair,

until he brought Baldr’s adversary to the funeral pyre;”

(Poetic Edda, Völúspa 33-34 Carolyne Larrington translation p.8)

 

A tale in Flateyjarbók mentions the itinerant seeresses known as spækonnur and völur. The involvement with prophesying fate casts spækonnur as the Nornir’s human counterpart. 

 

“In those days, seeresses travelled through the land, who were called spækonnur [spæ-wives] and prophesized about the lives of men.” (Flateyjarbók, vol 1, pp.345-359, translated by Ben Waggoner, “Our Troth”, The Troth, 2021 p.516)

 

In Midgard, seeresses can foretell what lays ahead while also being able to influence the outcome to a larger or lesser extent. Völur and spækonnur are Midgard reflections of the Norns. They speak the word-thread of what is, of what has been already spun by the Norns while also having the capabilities to weave additional fate-fabric when speaking their prophecies. The thread that is already spun by the Greater Norns cannot be changed, but there are several patterns to choose amongst, for weaving. Spækonnur and völur embody the Nornir by masterfully weaving new patterns through ritualized action, speaking and chanting words of power. In the act of prophesying spækonnur and völur can actively contribute to the shaping of fate.    

Beyond acknowledging what is already predetermined, seeresses are expected to propitiate positive outcomes. They are expected to ritually and/or magically support people in a community to overcome adversity. Failing to do so made völur and spækonnur subject to threats and harsh action against them from the people they prophesied for.

 

In the Flateyjarbók, a man tells his own story involving seeresses. When the storyteller was born, his father invited three spæ-wives to both foretell and favorably influence the baby’s future. Two among the spæ-wives predict the baby will become a handsome, brave and lucky man, a very pleasing prophecy. The third seeress, probably envious that she was not invited to speak, prophesies that the baby will only live as long as the candle burning by his cradle lasts. This seeress gets pushed out of her seat and the older among the three mitigates the outcome by snuffing out the candle and giving it to the mother to preserve it carefully and never light it again. The parallel between the spæ-wives and Norns is explicit in the conclusion of the story. 

 

“After that the seeresses went away and tied up the youngest Norn and took her away, and my father gave them good gifts when they left.”   (Flateyjarbók, vol 1, pp.345-359, text translated by Ben Waggoner, “Our Troth”, Troth Publications, 2021 p.516)

 

But fate-shaping, adding layers to the ørlog inside Urðabrunnr, is a co-creative process. Nornir, gods, spækonnur, and the very humans for whom the fate is being laid out through prophecies, all play active roles. In the “Saga of Erik the Red”, Little Volva, a ritual specialist, is invited to prophesize for a Greenlandic community. But, for the endeavor to be successful, Little Völva needs support.  It is a collective effort in which everyone contributes from setting up the special high-seat to preparing the ritual meal and singing the sacred songs. Little Völva, the members of the household and indirectly the animals sacrificed to prepare the feast, all contribute to bring forth the best possible outcome: a prophecy that besides hope, yields tangible outcomes for those present. The ritual and the völva’s words shape destinies, the equivalent of the Norns weaving new layers that go into the Well of Urð. This passage in the Saga of Erik the Red illustrates how in her own way, Little Völva acts in ways not dissimilar to those of Norns as described in the Eddaic material.

 

Spækonnur emulate the Nornir in that they can act upon fate by both predicting outcomes and influencing them, at least to some extent.  Whether made by Nornir or spækonnur, prophecies fulfillment involves collective effort. Oðinn must father a son, who in turn, must commit to avenge Baldr. The Nornir weaving the fate of a battle can only work that out if the opponents will actually do battle. Little Völva can consult the spirits and assist the people who asked for her help, only if someone in the audience can sing the varðlokkur, the sacred songs. 

Fate laid out by Nornir is not a life, or death, sentence to be accepted with passivity. This holds true at both cosmic level and here in Midgard. At a cosmic level, gods must do their part to either fulfill or mitigate the outcome of Nornir’s decisions. Here, in Midgard, people known as spækonnur, völur, and by many other names, engage in the dynamic process of foretelling and shaping of fate by prompting people to take concrete action. In molding ørlog, spækonnur emulate the Nornir’s actions and make the Nornir relatable to a modern Heathen population. Without them, the spækonnur, völur, and the many other kinds of seers, the Nornir would be nothing but abstract and mysterious powers. Spækonnur act as bridges between this World and the Other, connecting cosmic and mundane levels. Though speaking fate into being and by prompting others to act, seeresses perpetuate the cycles of ørlog-making, as a balancing act, while acting between what is fated and the free will of the individual.

 

Bibliography and Resources:

Poetic Edda, Carolyn Larrington translation, Oxford University Press, UK, 2014

Ben Waggoner, “Our Troth: Volume 2”, Troth Publications, 2021

Karen Bek-Pedersen, “The Norns in Old Norse Mythology”, Edinburgh: Dunedin, 2011

Njál saga, Magnus Magnusson and Herman Palsson translation, Penguin Classics, 1960

Flateyjarbók, vol 1, pp.345-359, text translated by Ben Waggoner, “Our Troth: Vol. 2”,Troth Publications, 2021 

Link to presentation recording:

https://youtu.be/_gd2nYkRwp4 

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[1] Old Norse: Norn (s), Nornir (pl). Anglicized: Norn (s), Norns(pl) I prefer the Old Norse form but I use Norns and Nornir interchangeably to stay consistent with  the way the word is spelled in the source material. 

Goddesses to Fairy Queens: Fairy Queens with Solar Associations in Irish and Romanian Traditions

This article addresses the link between goddesses and fairy queens in Irish and Romanian fairy lore and traditions. The focus is on solar deities, represented in this particular case by the Irish Áine and the Romanian Ileana Sânziana both featuring in dual capacity of goddesses and fairy queens. Following a brief overview of the existing parallels between Irish and Romanian fairies and the traditions that surround them, the paper expounds on two pre-Christian solar goddesses, Irish Áine and Romanian Sânziana, their gradual “demotion” from possible great goddess ranks, and their relegation to the fairy realm. The paper zooms-in on Áine and Ileana Sânziana solar attributes, functions, and powers, and the ways and reasons why they are still honored today. 

 

Romanian and Irish cultures are bearers of rich traditions surrounding fairies. Despite geographical separation[1] and development of unique features characteristic to each culture, Romanian and Irish fairy lore and traditions display a remarkable parallelism. This parallelism becomes particularly evident in a side-by–side analysis of fairies’ physical appearance, types of interactions with humans, the connection with the dead and ancestor figures, and in some cases their origination from ancient gods. In both cultures, the fairies are seen as neither exceedingly benevolent nor exclusively harmful. Each, Romanian zâne or Iele, and Irish Aes Side or Na Daoine Maithe, are uniquely themselves, and their particular nature is well described by the word fairy with connotations of unpredictability, change, magical power, wonder, danger, and beauty which comes in many forms. 

 

Individuality and striking similarities weave together to portray ancient goddess- figures who have assumed roles as fairy queens. Within the cultural frames discussed here, Áine and Ileana Sânziana are probably the best representing examples. While Áine’s goddess status and identity has been preserved quite successfully in the Irish lore, the profile of Ileana Sânziana as a solar goddess vanishes from the public eyes with the advancing of Christianity, never to return as a goddess in the lore yet well established as a fairy queen. Albeit the big goddess picture having sunk into oblivion, fortunately, some clues about Ilena Sânziana in her capacity of solar goddess have been preserved in very old lore and folk traditions from remote areas of the Romania. Such elements made it into later fairy lore and traditions where Sânziana, even if no longer called a goddess, still displays her solar attributes and shines in her role as Queen of all Fairies.

 

Goddesses to Fairy Queens

Áine.  Áine is one of the best known and loved fairy queens in Ireland. She is also becoming increasingly more popular with pagans living outside the Emerald Island. Like with most, if not all major god and goddess-figures, her old lore sunk deeper under the layer of new, Christian stories and traditions that began to take root in Ireland around 400 CE. This layering and amalgamation of pre-Christian and Christian traditions makes her mythology not only complex, but also convoluted and sometimes even contradictory.

 

Mythology presents Áine as one of the Tuatha Dé Danann - the gods who pulled into the sidhe, the fairy hills in Ireland, and merged with the fairies living there. (Daimler, 2018; id, 2020) In the very old lore, Áine- whose name relates to bright, or brightness (O’hOgain, 2006), a sun deity herself, becomes the wife of Crom Cruach or Crom Dubh around Lammas. In this hypostasis Áine is said to represent the gentle, life-giving sun, while Crom Cruach is the scorching, destructive aspect of the summer sun. 

 

But for the vast majority of Christians, celebrating an ancient goddess figure became problematic and especially from the Middle Ages onward, subject to resinous persecution. Yet giving up on Áine has never been an option. Considering the power Áine held and still holds over critically important aspects of life, people were not willing to quit honoring her.  Continuing the shift that initiated over a millennium ago, the modern body of lore and the living oral tradition refers to Áine primarily in her role as Fairy Queen. 

 

 “The best-hearted woman who ever lived”, this is how Irish lore refers to Áine, the goddess and fairy queen who people still celebrate on Summer Solstice or Midsummer¹⁹ ( O’hOgain, 2006) Around this date, Áine and her retinue (and other fairies as well) travel and make their presence felt in the human world. On the Midsummer Eve they are said to mingle with the celebrating crowds; so fairy encounters are quite likely at this time, and several stories exist about fairy incidents occurring on this occasion.  One such story mentions a group of boys roaming around a hillside on Midsummer Eve, chatting as they walked. The discussion revolved around fairies. One of the boys reminded the group to talk respectfully and not make jokes about Na Daoine Maithe, but the others in the group laughed at him. The boys reached a certain tree on the hillside; they sat down to rest, but fell asleep. Fairies came and turned the disrespectful boys into horses whom they raced mercilessly along the countryside all night long. The one boy who believed in fairies and acted respectfully, was given a beautiful horse to ride through the night to his enjoyment. The boys were then brought back, and upon waking up they all talked about having had a strange and unusually vivid dream. However, there is one intriguing detail: the boys who didn’t show respect to fairies, all ‘dreamed’ of being turned into horses and raced to exhaustion the whole night. Being awake, they felt their bodies terribly sore and bruised. The one boy who did show respect to fairies, told nthe others about his wonderful dream where he was given a splendid horse to ride and had a great time throughout the night. 

 

There is also the story of a girl encountering Áine herself during a Midsummer celebration. Áine showed her the fairies dancing on the hill, and invited the girl to join. The girl declined the invitation, leaved unharmed, and told her story which becomes part of the current body of existing fairy lore and stories about Áine.  

 

On Midsummer, the night of June 23, bonfires are lit on hilltops in Áine’s honor, and people gather to party, eat, drink, and dance. Young men jump over fire to show their prowess, and as tradition has it, to ensure strength and health in the months to come. To do divination for love, couples jump over fires holding hands; if partners let go of each other’s hand while leaping over fire, it is said the union won’t last. Fires are lit in Áine’s honor, but also for apotropaic purposes considering that not all fairies are benevolent toward humans. Depending on local traditions and beliefs, herbs for medicinal or magical purposes are gathered either on the morning after Summer Solstice or on Midsummer. It is said that in passing, the fairies have touched these herbs rendering them particularly powerful.  As it can be inferred from the practices mentioned above, Áine and her fairy retinue are associated with romantic love, passion and the use of herbs.

According to some more modern sources, Áine has lunar associations as well.  (O’Brien, 2021)
Whether these frame her in a hypostasis of goddess, fairy queen or both,  is everyone’s guess.  

Áine is known as the Fairy Queen of Munster. In the old lore, Áine is mentioned using magic to help her father regain sovereignty over the area of today’s County Limerick, where her hill, Knock Áine is located. Áine has become thus connected with land sovereignty and righteous land ownership. She is also connected to land fertility, for which reason up until the nineteenth century celebrations were held for her on Midsummer to propitiate her aid for a plentiful harvest. These celebrations are brought back under the current revival. Their importance, aside from practical, consists in tying Áine back to her role of land and fertility goddess, worshiped in the centuries, if not millennia, past. 

 

Lough Gur, situated in the proximity of Knock Áine, is also known as one of her places. Áine has been seen, as stories have it, sitting on the shores of this lake, combing her long hair. A well in County Ulster is named after her, Tobar Áine, giving Áine associations with bodies of water.  and love.  Like many, if not all the other fairy queens, Áine has love affairs with mortals. She is credited as the ancestress of the Fitzgeralds, who descend from Gearoid Iarla, The third earl of Desmond, Áine’s son. 

 

Ileana Sânziana, or Ileana Cosânzeana, is the best known and by far the most loved among the fairies populating Romanian folklore. Ileana Sânziana’s origination as solar goddess and/or agrarian goddess did not survive in folklore as a clear, explicit portrayal as it is the case for Áine. Historians and anthropologists, however, took a particular interest in deciphering her tenebrous origins, and so, the work of scholars supply what has been lost in the surviving folklore and fairy traditions.  One possible origination of the name Sânziana could be Diana, the Roman goddess. The territory of modern day Romania was occupied by the Roman Empire, between 102 - 271CE. Elements from Roman and the autochthon Dacian[2] religious beliefs formed a syncretic blend. As it is the case with almost all European cultures during the first millennium, with the arrival of Christianity, many gods and goddesses have been assimilated into saints.  According to Mircea Eliade[3], the name Sânziana comes from the name Diana, the Roman goddess that was coopted into the local Dancian pantheon following the Roman colonization, with the later addition of the prefix ‘Sân’ coming from ‘San’, meaning saint in Latin. San Diana would then become Sânziana. The contraction and changing the ‘a’ to ‘â’ is very commonly encountered in the case of other old gods that transitioned to a saint status. While the debate over the strength of this argument is still ongoing, it doesn’t alter the fact that one way or another Sânziana was once an important goddess. 

 

Same as Áine, Sânziana was too important to be let go of. She could no longer be acknowledged as a goddess because that would have conflicted with the one god vision imposed by the new religion. Her identity as a saint did not stick, but she claimed permanently a position as fairy queen. It is not known exactly when the name Ileana began to precede Sânziana, but she became deeply and permanently imbedded in the lore as Ilena Sânziana, Queen of All Fairies.  In the lore of the past millennium, Ileana Sânziana - same as Áine-  has connections to fire, love magic, abundance, and luck. Also, similarly to Áine, the herbs for charms and healing are her purview.  

 

Ileana Sânziana is the protagonist of numerous fairy tales where she appears related to Fāt Frumos[4], either as his sister or as his bride. (Chelariu, 2021) Her name, Sânziana, is eponymous to the fairies known as Sânziene, and to the flowers these fairies are connected to[5]. Ileana Sânziana and her zâne, the powerful yet benevolent Sânziene, are most active during their eponymous holiday. The celebration begins on the night of June 23 which is called the Night of Sânziene. Huge bonfires are lit on top of hills, and young men swirl around carrying torches. The circular pattern shining in the dark is reminiscent of the Sun, a reminder that in ancient times, the people living in the area of modern day Romania followed a religion which included the worship of solar deities. Ileana Sânziana and her retinue of zâne can be understood as survivors of those times and traditions, with Sânziana, being a solar deity and fairy queen. 

 

The day that follows the Night of Sânziene is called the Feast of Sânziene. Women wake up early on the morning of June 24 to gather the herbs that zâne blessed the night before when flying over fields and woods. On this day it is customary for people to gather for picnics, and leave out offerings for Sânziene and their queen. The offerings and the way they are presented follow very specific rules. Only white items of the best quality one can afford are acceptable. A white tablecloth is laid out, and a platter is made for Sânziene; cheese, butter, milk or yogurt, hard boiled eggs,  and white bread  are traditional offerings. If roast chicken is being offered, it has to come from a white-feathered chicken especially killed and cooked for the occasion. Fresh water and a glass of wine are always welcome. Strangers showing up unexpectedly are invited to join the party, because they could be actual fairies. At the end of the picnic, the offerings are left by a tree, near a crossroad, or near a body of water. (Chelariu, 2021, Pòcs, 2018, Vivod, 2019)

As yet another similarity to Áine, some sources mention Ileana Sânziana connected to the moon, thus complementing the solar Fāt Frumos, while the zâne in her retinue acquire, in this interpretation, an association to stars. (Chelariu, 2021)

 

In conclusion

The relegation from goddess to fairy is not an actual demotion; it is, at most, a change in how these beings were addressed by a population who, despite becoming increasingly Christianized, still would not conceive letting go of Áine, Sânziana and other beings like themselves. Instead, people sought to integrate them in to the new belief system. Áine and Sânziana were and still are immensely powerful, because in all truth, they wield today the same powers as they always did. Both Áine and Sânziana are still acknowledged, honored, and celebrated, and the notion of how important they are, is kept alive in the local fairy-related traditions in both Ireland and Romania. There were times when honoring them dampened, especially in the second half of the twentieth century, but fortunately we are seeing a revival of these practices. 

 

References:

Chelariu, Ana Radu, “The Most Prevalent Mythical Characters in Romanian Folklore” , Journal of Romanian Language, Issue 29/2021 retrieved at https://limbaromana.org/en/the-most-prevalent-feminine-mythical-characters-in -romanian-folklore/

Daimler, Morgan “Fairy Queens. Meeting the Queens of the Otherworld”, 2018

Morgan, Daimler, “A Modern Dictionary of Fairies”, 2020

Eliade, Mircea, “Noaptea de Sânziene”, 1955

Eliade, Mircea, “Occultism, Witchcraft, and Cultural Fashions: Essays in Comparative Religions”, 1976

Ghinoiu, Ion, “Folk Almanac”, 2005

O’Brien, Lora, “Fairy Faith in Ireland”, 2021

Pócs, Éva “Fairies and Witches and the Bounday of South-Eastern and Central Europe”, 1989 

Simina, Daniela, “Where Fairies Meet: Parallels between Irish and Romanian Fairy Traditions”, 2023

Vivod, Maria, “The Fairy Seers of Eastern Serbia: Seeing Fairies- Speaking through Trance”, 2018


 

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[1] Romania: Southeastern- Central Europe 45.9432° N, 24.9668° E; Ireland: Northwestern Europe, insular, 53.1424° N, 7.6921° W

 

 

[2] Dacians, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dacians

[3] Mircea Eliade, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mircea_Eliade

[4] Fāt Frumos, Handsome Lad, is an ancient sun or sky deity, also relegated to the realm of fairies. Details on Handsome Lad and other Romanian fairies, in the paper “An Overview of Romanian Fairy Lore and Traditions,” by Daniela Simina, available on Academia.edu, and Pagan Portals - “Where Fairies Meet: Parallels between Romanian and Irish Fairy Traditions,” by the same author. The book will become available on Amazon in May 2023. 

[5] Galium verum, Sânziene, Lady’s bedstraw or Lady’s fingers.

 Hello everyone, it’s May again. The month begins with one of my favorite holidays, May Day, a magical time with flavor of fresh greenery moist with dew or raindrops; of crisp morning air enlivened with birdsong and promise of summer. It is also a time marked by an uptick in the Otherworldly activity, which makes it more likely for humans and inhabitants of Fairy to cross paths. Thinking about May Day brings back memories of baked delicacies heavily dusted with powdered sugar that melt in the mouth and leave hands gluey enough to rival any flytrap; memories of playing and mingling into people’s dances and games, up to mischief, shrugging shoulders at jokes adults exchanged but which meaning remained obscure to us, children. I wrote a post about Romanian May Day traditions which you can read here so I will not get into any more details. For short, this is a holiday I like to celebrate. Which brings me to the actual point for this post, how and why celebrating this holiday changed for me over time. 

Change happens in response to …change. Me, the one writing this post now, in 2026, is a very different person from who I was in the early 1970s. It’s still me, Daniela, and I still like baked delicacies covered in powdered sugar, and I still feel the same excitement about celebrating May Day. What has changed though is the layer of meaning around May Day that I now focus on, which change prompts the shift in how I celebrate and why. Over the past years, my personal practice and beliefs turned fairy-centric almost to the exclusion of everything else. This influenced my perception around the meaning of seasonal tides and astronomical events such as equinoxes or the positions of certain stars. With these in mind, I would like in this post to offer something about celebrating May Day from the perspective of someone involved in a fairy-focused spirituality.

In my (personally created) mythology, the Fairy Liminal Powers or Fairy Gods who rule over the Light Half of the Year, meet on May Eve or Bealtaine (the name for both the festival and the month of May in Irish) On Bealtaine I celebrate the union of these Fairy Powers [1] . I express my gratitude for the promise of abundance in the season ahead, for the joyous energy, and I ask the Powers for their blessings. I also make offerings to the Hidden People, local land spirits, and to the elf-folk I am primarily connected with. 

I don’t do anything complicated. I prepare the space by circumambulating and sprinkling water in which I soaked rose petals. Roses are my personal preference and so far, it has been well received. If you want to try preparing your space like this, by sprinkling herb-infused water, maybe try adding other plants as long as they do not conflict with the fairies you seek to honor. For example, the Irish sí are repelled by St. John’s Wort while many among the Elf-folk favor it. So, do your research in advance. 

For offering, I bring a small pitcher with fresh water or another drink I believe suits the occasion and the beings I honor. Most times, but not always, I make food offerings too. Foods that are traditionally offered to fairies are baked goods, dairy and fresh water, but in my experience any food that is given wholeheartedly and with respect is well received.

I invite the seasonal Fairy Gods that I mentioned, An Dagda, the Fairy king I honor, the local fairies, land spirits, and the Elf-folk I have ties to. I pour out libations for each entity or group that I invite and apportion the food accordingly. Offerings can be other things too, such as reciting or reading something that I wrote especially for the occasion, or, if circumstances allow, dancing or singing.

When I’m done, I like to sit quietly and feel the energy of the space. I thank the invitees for honoring us with their presence, and then I move on to other activities, make merry or, if it is already late, I retire for the night.

In the years past, my Bealtaine celebration included making a May Bush. My intent was not to parrot an Irish tradition. There is a Romanian equivalent to the Irish one, and engaging in this practice felt like standing on a bridge that connects these two cultures I am fond of. 

I haven’t decorated a May Bush in maybe three years, but I believe I will pick up again the custom. My May Bush has a different story and meaning than in the Irish tradition. I think of it as a symbol of abundance, which is the connotation it holds in Romania. I also like the idea of a colorful May Bush as an offering to the Other who I seek to honor on this holiday. The tree symbolism is powerful and widespread, and I believe it is very appropriate for this occasion.

I guess Bealtaine would not be really Bealtaine without a fire no matter how small or symbolic. In the absence of a firepit I shall be content with a bunch of candles illuminating the space during my Bealtaine ritual.

I hope this post gives some insight into how my practice changes as I, as a person, change. And if it provides some ideas about honoring fairies at Bealtaine, then I am really happy.

Thanks for reading and to all those who are celebrating, happy Bealtaine, happy May Eve, and happy Walpurgisnacht!

Daniela   

[1] Lady of the Greenwood and Lord of the Wildwood, see Morgan Daimler, “Fairycraft” (2016) and “Living Fairy” (2020) 

  

Fairy Herbs for Fairy Magic: Working in Partnership with the 'Hidden People' 

by Daniela Simina

Image credit: Pixabay.com

The belief in fairies[1] giving the gift of knowledge is common to many cultures. Fairies have a well-established reputation for teaching the secrets of healing with herbs to selected few among humans. Irish, Romanian, and Scottish material talk about people who, following encounters with fairies, began to display skills and knowledge of herbal healing and herbal magic. Local tales and testimonies from various witch trials speak about fairy familiars gifting not only knowledge but also giving herbs or herbal preparations for their human partners to use. (Wilby, 2022) Lore from Germany, Iceland and continental Scandinavia is filled with stories of encounters with elves which resulted in luck, acquisition of knowledge, and healing. 

However, fairy-beings, including elves, are also known for their ambiguity toward humans. Like other all the other types of fairies, elves too might reward lavishly or harm, sometimes for reasons clear only to themselves. In general, relationships with elves have a transactional component and are regulated by strict rules.

While the Irish tradition knows fairy doctors and fairy witches who work in close contact with The Good People[2], it also recommends extreme caution around them. Outside the specialized sphere of fairy doctors and fairy witches, the general belief in Ireland is that The Good People, Na Daoine Maithe, are best left alone.

In Romania, under the collective name zâne, two fairy groups feature most prominently: Sânziene, also known as Zâne, and Rusalii, also known as Iele. The Rusalii are overtly not fond of humans. The Sânziene, however, act benevolently and gift knowledge of herbal healing and magic. However, if offended, the Sânziene will turn as deadly as the Rusalii. And, antipathy aside, the Rusalii also have immense healing powers and knowledge of herbs which, in a very specific ritual context, they willingly share with humans. Due to such ambiguity, fairy seers from Romania recommend that everyone exercises extreme caution around fairies.

German and Scandinavian lore too warns about the potential dangers arising from interacting with the Hidden People. In Anglo-Saxon England the magic practiced by elves was called sīden and sīdsa, which words are cognate with Icelandic and Scandinavian seiðr. Elves can use their magic to harm, by inflicting the notorious ‘elf shot’. But there are also accounts of elves effecting healing on people. In Kormáks Saga, advised by a seeress/spækonna, one of the protagonists sacrificed a bull to the elves dwelling in a certain mound and received healing. 

Like other fairy-beings, elves are not one large, undifferentiated category, so there is little uniformity across the breadth of the lore about elves’ likes or dislikes for specific herbs. One may need both apotropaic herbs to keep the ill-meaning beings at bay, and herbs to invite allies and propitiate good will. For everyone involved in partnerships with elves it is wise considering carefully the herbs to gather in ritual spaces, altars, and homes: it is not a good idea to inadvertently vanquish boundaries, let in the wrong crowd while in the same time upsetting close allies by using plants carelessly. 

When choosing herbal ingredients, it is important to keep in mind that fairies- elves making no exception- are not set fixtures in the geographical landscape. A growing body of evidence shows that fairies and fairy-like beings can and do travel around, oftentimes accompanying humans to foreign lands (Daimler, 2023, 2024).

Therefore, when working with elven guides and/or familiars, it is important to know the lore that is specific to geographical regions or to the cultures where the said allies come from. For example, if you interact consistently with elves and other kinds of fairy-beings from two different traditions, such as Icelandic and Irish, you may want to use herbs that are agreeable to both groups. While a common denominator is usually present, there are also marked differences between these culture-specific groups of fairies. 

And, things can get even more complicated than this. Similar to human communities, not all communities – elves or other fairies- get along with each other, not even when belonging to the same culture. As a concrete example, Irish lore speaks of armies of sí[3] battling fiercely one another (Evans-Wenz, 1998). Still from the Irish lore, we have numerous accounts of sport events where teams from different regional fairy groups compete against each other in matches that are as fierce as encounters on battlegrounds. (Lenihan, 2004, Simina, 2023) From the humans’ perspective, it means that being in the good graces of a certain group or elven community, may put one on the black list of another group. Within this paradigm, propitiating goodwill while also setting boundaries are vital knowledge. 

Let’s look at three herbs and application of their properties in connection to elves:

Mugwort, Artemisia vulgaris, has a well-established reputation as apotropaic. In Romanian lore, Mugwort is known as a selectively-acting herb: it will banish the malevolent beings and not upset the goodly inclined ones. This built-in versatility accounts for Mugwort’s widespread use in both getting dangerous spirits to vacate or pre-emptively protecting a space or person.

In Lacnunga, the 11^th century Anglo-Saxon medical text, Mugwort is presented as an herb with immense power over all kinds of evil. While not specifically mentioned as an elf-repelling herb, the verses in the Lacnunga’s Nine Herbs Charmmake it quite clear that Mugwort can be successfully employed against any kind of malevolent powers, which would extend to Mugwort’s efficiency in case of attacks from elves.   

“Remember Mugwort, what you made known

What you arranged at Reenmeld.

You were called Una, the oldest of herbs,

You have power over three and thirty,

You have power against poison and against infection,

You have power against the loathsome foe roaming through the land.”

(Lacnunga)

During the Middle Ages, in Germany and Holland Mugwort was widely used for protection against possession and harm caused by evil spirits. According to traditions in these areas, Mugwort has maximum potency if gathered on the St. John’s Eve. 

In addition to the Artemisia vulgaris which grows throughout Northern Europe, in Scandinavia a local kind of Mugwort, Artemisia norvegica, is also present. In the lore, this type of Mugwort is connected to Thor, and it is employed as protection against malevolent spirit beings. Thor’s hostile actions are described as primarily against threats coming from the jötnar, but he is a protector of people in a broader sense. Thus, the by association with Thor, Mugwort (Artemisia norvegica) should emulate the same broad-spectrum protective properties.

In my own experience Mugwort acts like a selective filter: it allows my elven familiars to come near and closes the boundaries to anyone approaching with hostile intent.

St. John’s Wort is best-known in Irish tradition for keeping the sí away. This herb, with its small golden flowers reminding of the power of the sun itself, reaches maturity around Midsummer when, according to practitioners of folk medicine and magic, is the optimal time to harvest it. 

In Romania, same as in Ireland, St. John’s Wort is also harvested at Midsummer when its properties, both magical and medicinal, are peaking. The Romanian name for this herb, Sunatoare /Soo-nuh- Toah- reh/, relates to its solar associations and makes no allusion to the saint.  I favor the solar association instead of the saint, and use the name Sunnawort[4],which translates as the “herb of Sunna”. 

In Norse mythology the sun, Sunna, is also connected to the Álfar. In the Skírnismál, the Sun is named Álfröðul, with possible translations “elf-beam”, “elf-disc’, “elf-glory”. In my own version of Álfatrú – my spiritual practice centered on the Álfar and related vættir- I regard Sunnawort as sacred and compatible with most among the elves. It is part of my personal gnosis that at Midsummer, the Álfar and other vættir act similarly to other fairy-beings from across Europe in that they go around to bless this herb infusing it with magical powers for healing and protection.

 

Lavender (Lavandula)

Lavender is deeply relaxing, which makes it a valuable aid in attaining meditative, altered states of consciousness which facilitate communication with spirit allies including elves. When I lived in Italy, I heard people calling Lavender Elf Leafor Elf’s Herb which suggests an affinity that elves[5] might have for this plant. In my experience, lavender is favored by many kinds of fairies, not just elves. I am fond of lavender because it was one of the first herbs that I became acquainted with for magical purposes. My grandmother grew lavender in our yard, and I used to help her make bundles which we would then hang to dry. As a witch I use lavender for almost everything: healing magic, hallowing space in preparation for ritual, and in offerings to deity and elf familiars. It is a forgiving and very versatile herb. Using lavender by mistake as the “wrong” ingredient in a spell or ritual is not likely to backfire given lavender’s versatility and easy-going character. 

Next, are few suggestions about employing herbs in elf-centered practices: 

Apotropaic: Dried Mugwort, St. John’s Wort and Lavender can be burned (individually or in combination) to smoke-cleanse spaces or people. To repel unwanted attentions from Huldufólk or troublesome spirits, carry dried Mugwort, St. John’s Wort and Vervain in a pouch and if absolutely necessary, along with other apotropaic materials such as iron and salt. Iron and salt should be last resort because they could annoy some among the elf allies. Personally, I found out that seeking to understand what is the cause for animosity and finding ways to reconciliate works better than implementing extreme measures right away. 

Offerings: Traditional offerings for elves include dairy, breads, fresh water, beer- but also the flowers they like. Fresh or dried flowers can be strewn around offerings of food and drink, or left at the places sacred to Them as an offering of its own. I would suggest for this purpose Lavender, Primrose, Rose, and frankincense and amber oils.  Conversely, do not pick up anything from an elf mound, don’t take souvenirs from rocks inhabited by elves, or trees which are in some way connected to elves.  

Healing and magic: water infused with selected herbs can be asperged or spayed around to render the space appealing to elven allies. Herb-infused oils can be applied to ritual items or other objects dedicated to working with elves. Satchels with herbs that fairy themselves favor can be worn or carried inside a pocket to invite the presence of fairy allies or, depending on the situation, to protect against harm caused by fairies.

Please keep in mind that from an animistic perspective, the herbs themselves are forms of consciousness, so do not treat any plant as an object or disposable commodity. When bringing plants into your practice, treat them as plant-people whose help you seek to enlist, not as someone who you can bossy around. Seek to work in synergy with plants, elves and other fairy-beings instead of asserting yourself and trying to dominate the scene; it rarely works, and when it does, it is short-lived and backfires badly. 

This short presentation is an invitation to explore, learn, and experiment. There are countless herbs and ways to work with them. People take on spiritual paths which involve elves for various reasons. If you feel called to follow a path where spiritual herbalism and elves are involved, it is a great idea to research both plant and elf-related lore in the cultural tradition, or traditions, you associate yourself with. The words “elf” and “fairy” may bring to mind quaint and charming beings, and the make the idea of partnerships sound lovely. However, the experiences of seers, fairy doctors and witches from past and present times inform that the reality of working with elves and fairies-beings in general has nothing idyllic about it. Study and keep an open mind. Pay close attention to your own personal experiences, but whenever presented with the opportunity, also learn from the experience of those who walked this path before you. 

Bibliography 

Daimler, Morgan “Celtic Fairies in North America” (2023)

Daimler, Morgan “A New Dictionary of Fairies: A 21^st Century Exploration of Celtic and Related Western European Fairies” (2020)

Daimler, Morgan “Fairy: The Otherworld by Many other Names” (2024)

Daimler, Morgan, “Celtic Fairies in North America” (2024)

Gundarsson, Kveldulf “Amulets, Stones, and Herbs: Studies Toward Germanic Heathenry” (2022)

Gundarsson, Kveldulf “Elves, Wights, and Trolls” (2007)

Heath, Cat "Elves, Witches& Gods: Spinning Old Heathen Magic in the Modern Day" (2021)

Lenihan, Eddie, “Meeting the Othercrowd: The Fairy Stories of Hidden Ireland” (2004)

MacCoitir, Nial “Ireland’s Wild Plants” (2016)

“Medical Writings from Early Medieval England: The Old English Herbal, Lacnunga, and Other Texts”, translation by John D. Niles and Maria A. D’Aronco (2023)

Pflanzenkunst, “Mugwort”, retrieved at https://pflanzenkunst.wordpress.com/plant-profiles/mugwort/

Simina, Daniela “Where Fairies Meet: Parallels between Irish and Romanian Fairy Traditions” (2023)

Simina, Daniela, “A Fairy Path: The Memoir of a Young Fairy Seer in Training” (2024)

Simina, Daniela, “Fairy Herbs for Fairy Magic: A Practical Guide to Fairy Herbal Magic” (2024)

Wilby, Emma, “Cunning-Folk and Familiar Spirits: Shamanistic Visionary Traditions in Early Modern English Witchcraft and Magic” (2022)

Heath, Cat “Charms, Whita and  Stories” (Part I and 2) https://payhip.com/SeoHelrune

Heath, Cat “Elves and Witches” https://payhip.com/SeoHelrune

 

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[1] In this context the word ‘fairies’ is a catch-all term used to represent the fairy-beings from various cultures. 

[2] Euphemism used in Ireland in reference to fairies. 

[3] Irish name for fairies

[4] From Gundarsson, Kveldulf “Amulets, Stones, and Herbs: Studies Toward Germanic Heathenry” (2022)

[5] As mentioned earlier, I believe that otherworldly beings are not confined by geography; I would not be surprised to find elves in Northern part of Italy

Contingencies in Personal Practice: Fairy Faith and Norse Germanic Paganism

 

In today’s post I will take a look at the overlap between the two sides of my work and personal practice: the side concerning fairies and the Heathen side. They are not at all separated as they may appear, one area of contingency being women’s relationship to power as it is described in the fairy lore, myth, saga material and historical records from North-Western Europe. 

This year at the Mystic South, the conference that takes placeeach summer in Atlanta , I gave a presentation titled “Woman Politics &Power in pre-Christian Scandinavia”. For the past several years my work – published books, articles, conference presentations- have been almost exclusively centered on fairy lore and associated magical traditions. So, this year’s conference it seemed like a complete departure. But was that really the case? 

 

Fairies, both the Irish sidhe and Scandinavian elves, are described in the lore as living in worlds adjacent and sometimes overlapping with the world of humans (Daimler, 2023, 2024). Stories passed down through generations, both orally and in writing, depict fairies as transgressive of gender roles as such roles had become established with the rising and spreading of Christianity throughout Europe. We read about fairy women who take lovers as they please, have children with whoever they want, rule as monarchs and make political and military decisions (Wenz, 1911; Lenihan, 2004; Daimler, 2017). These stories did not sit well with the new religion who equated fairies with devils and tried hard to stamp out fairy beliefs and practices because they were the most obvious antithesis to the Church’s moral codes regarding gender (Green, 2018). 

 

With the passing of time, society took on praising women who were submissive, quaint and pious. Women were “meant” to be fragile and weak in their judgement thus dependent on men.   Well into the 20^th century it was still believed that certain types of exertion would physically hurt women and in general, women were deemed too emotional therefore untrustworthy to handle money or property (Lewis, 2019) .

 

This image is a far cry from the one found in Norse mythology and writings with historical character that depict Scandinavian society in the Viking Age.  Norse myth is populated with powerful feminine figures. Freyja is not only a goddess associated with abundance and passionate love but a warrior figure as well who takes for herself half the battle dead, the other half claimed by Oðinn. The Norns shape people’s destiny, and Frigga can outsmart her husband, the wise and powerful Oðinn. (Ellis Davidson, 1990; Waggoner, 2021; Daimler, 2023)

 

The objection here might be that these are only stories. However, one must keep in mind that such stories arise from people’s beliefs and that mythologies shape spiritual and religious practices thus shaping norms and mores in society. From the Icelandic sagas we learn that women had the right to get a divorce on the grounds of domestic violence. They could own land, run businesses, and participate in trade and warfare (Auerbach, 1998; Palsson, 1989; Magnusson, 1975)Histories of Norway and Denmark mention warrior women, queens who ruled independently and also women participating in politics indirectly by influencing kings and chieftains - their husbands or sons (Elton, 2023; Monsen, 1990). Last but not least women exercised power in their roles of ritual specialist whose counsel was sought after by everyone, including kings and other people of high status. (Gardeła, 2023) 

 

Those who recorded the fairy lore, same as those who wrote down the myths and tried to reconstruct histories of Norway and Denmark were in their majority clerics, some of them highly educated.  Whether monks or historians these men were the product of their own society. Their own cultural lenses were bound to color how and what they wrote about.  But despite the Christian treatment of some themes and criticism of women’s un-fitting behavior, there’s enough in these texts to allow the discerning eye to see the full picture: whether fairies or women from the mortal realm, they lived in a time when bravery, industriousness, cleverness and physical strength were praised qualities in women and not unnatural traits to be suppressed.  

 

Whether fairies or women-warriors of the Viking Age, their behavior is subversive of gender norms prevailing at the time their stories were written down. 

 

Bibliography

Auerbach, Loren “Female Experience and Authorial Intention in Laxdœla Saga”, Saga – Book, vol XXV (1998-2001)

Daimler, Morgan, “21^st Century Fairy: The Good Folk in the new millennium” (2023)

Daimler, Morgan, “Fairy: The Otherworld by Many Other Names” (2024)

Daimler, Morgan “Fairies: A Guide to the Celtic Fair Folk” (2017)

Daimler, Morgan “Freya: Meeting the Norse Goddess of Magic” (2023)

Ellis Davidson, Hilda “Gods and Myths of Northern Europe” (1990)

“Eyrbyggja Saga”, Hermann Palsson, Paul Edwards translation, (1989)

Grammaticus, Saxo, “Gesta Danorum. Books I- IX” Oliver Elton translation (2023)

Green, Richard Firth “Elf Queens and Holy Friars: Fairy Beliefs and the Medieval Church”, (2018)

            “Laxdœla saga”, Magnus Magnusson and Herman Pálsson translation (1975)

Lenihan, Eddie, “Meeting the Othercrowd: The Fairy Stories of Hidden Ireland” (2004)

Gardeła, Leszek, Sophie Bonding & Peter Pentz, editors, “The Norse Sorceress: Mind and Materiality in the Viking World” (2023)

Lewis, Jone Johnson “A Short History of Women’s Property Rights in the United States” (2019) retrieved at  https://www.thoughtco.com/property-rights-of-women-3529578

Sturluson, Snorri, “Heimskringla or The Lives of Norse Kings”, Erling Monsen translation and notes (1990)

Waggoner, Ben “Our Troth: Heathen Gods” (2021) 

Wenz, Walter Evans, “The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries” (1911)