The prompt from last Thursday off from Pagan Blog Prompt is quoted below:
A lot of Pagan paths are Goddess-centered, sometimes seen as a rebuttal against the God-centered churches. But as Pagans, we also understand that balance in all areas of our life is important, and even necessary to our personal growth.
Today’s topic is the balance between the God and Goddess in our own journey. Are you more attuned with the Lord or Lady? Do you follow a path that focuses on one more than the other? Or have you found a good balance between the ‘two halves’?
Feel free to expound on this topic however you may felt lead. I look forward to seeing a wide array of responses..
Talking about Gods and Goddesses, the Lord and Lady, is something that I’ve always had difficulty doing when it comes to explaining my own feelings and beliefs. I think part of this has to do with growing up with almost no religion introduced to me until I struck out on my own to find out what religion was all about. When I started trying to find myself, I had no one I felt comfortable enough to talk to about it. Even those that seemed to have the same beliefs as me seemed rather hesitant to talk about such; many argued the same as any orthodox member of any various religion that their system was right and everyone else was wrong. (In retrospect, this might very well be why I don’t have a strong tie to organized religion and have never joined a coven.)
When I first started looking into religion, and when I hit my dry spell in college, I would simply call on the Divine. When we are out in public or at my husband’s place of worship, this is how I refer to the Lord and Lady. This is most likely than note how I will also have our children refer to the head of a religion in general until they are old enough to decide for themselves what calling they have, if any. For the most part, when I need someone to turn to, it’s normally “the Lord and Lady,” unless it’s some specific aspect I need. If I’m looking for bravery in fight of battle for something that is important to me and has to do with more of a masculine form (such as a career, let’s say), then I may ask for help specifically from the Lord. If I need the strength to continue on with a particular feminine battle (such as trying to conceive), I will more than likely lean towards asking the Lady. However, like I said before, I normally ask for the help of both as everything has its fair share of masculine and feminine influences.
Sometimes, I have to put a specific name to what I’m asking for and the help that I need. A large part of me would love to believe that these deities exist and are actually hearing my prayers, but I’m a rational human being. The rational portion of my mind argues that religion is something created out of the want for explanation. I have always believed that, but if naming my desires, needs, and distress out loud and assigning a God or Goddess to help me along the way helps my subconscious to focus on what is needed and what the desired outcome is, what is the harm in following my religion and the instinctual feeling that there is something more out there?
Currently, Arianrod (Ari-an-rod) and Cerridwen (Ker-RID-Wen) have been most on my mind. Arianrod is the Welsh Goddess that is seen as the Mother aspect of the Triple Goddess. Honored at the full moon, she is known as the Goddess of beauty, fertility, and reincarnation. Cerridwen is known as the Welsh Goddess of nature. Death, fertility, regeneration, inspiration, magic, astrology, herbs, science, poetry, spells, and knowledge are all ares of her domain. While both occupy my thoughts and prayers, I have been feeling especially pulled to Cerridwen.
THE COULDREN OF CERIDWEN ~ By Thomas Love Peacock
The sage Ceridwen was the wife
Of Tegid Voël, of Pemble Mere:
Two children blest their wedded life,
Morvran and Creirwy, fair and dear:
Morvran, a son of peerless worth,
And Creirwy, loveliest nymph of earth:
But one more son Ceridwen bare,
As foul as they before were fair.
She strove to make Avagddu wise;
She knew he never could be fair:
And, studying magic mysteries,
She gathered plants of virtue rare:
She placed the gifted plants to steep
Within the magic cauldron deep,
Where they a year and day must boil,
“Till three drops crown the matron’s toil.
Nine damsels raised the mystic flame;
Gwion the Little near it stood:
The while for simples roved the dame
Though tangled dell and pathless wood.
And, when the year and day had past,
The dame within the cauldron cast
The consummating chaplet wild,
While Gwion held the hideous child.
But from the cauldron rose a smoke
That filled with darkness all the air:
When through its folds the torchlight broke,
Nor Gwion, nor the boy, was there.
The fire was dead, the cauldron cold,
And in it lay, in sleep uprolled.
Fair as the morning-star, a child,
That woke, and stretched its arms, and smiled.
What chanced her labours to destroy,
She never knew; and sought in vain
If ’twere her own misshapen boy,
Or little Gwion, born again:
And vexed with doubt, the babe she rolled
In cloth of purple and of gold,
And in a coracle consigned
Its fortunes to the sea and wind.
The summer night was still and bright,
The summer moon was large and clear,
The frail bark, on the springtide’s height,
Was floated into Elphin’s weir:
The baby in his arms he raised:
His lovely spouse stood by, and gazed,
And, blessing it with gentle vow,
Cried “TALIESIN!” “Radiant brow!”
And I am he: and well I know
Ceridwen’s power protects me still;
And hence o’er hill and vale I go,
And sing, unharmed, whate”er I will.
She has for me Time’s veil withdrawn:
The images of things long gone,
The shadows of the coming days,
Are present to my visioned gaze.
And I have heard the words of power,
By Ceirion’s solitary lake,
That bid, at midnight’s thrilling hour,
Eryri’s hundred echoes wake.
I to Diganwy’s towers have sped,
And now Caer Lleon’s halls I tread,
Demanding justice, now, as then,
From Maelgon, most unjust of men.