"Ireland's Trees (Myths, Legends and Folklore)" excerpt from Niall Mac Coitir - Pt.3

We have seen, how tres are intertwined with every aspect of human experience. Trees surround us all the time in our daily lives, even in urban areas. They shelter and protect us from bad weather and enhance the air we breathe. They provide a roof over our heads and help to feed and clothe us. They appear in our dreams, they mark our places of importance, they guard our sacred sites. So it is no surprise that it is not only in Ireland or Europe but all over the world that we find examples of tree folklore as an integral part of everyday life. Indeed, one of the most fascinating things about the folklore of trees is how similar themes are found in every culture on earth.

One universal theme that emerges is the tree as the abode of gods and spirits. In Europe we have seen how these ideas linger, with trees such as the oak, but this phenomenon is by no means confined to Europe alone. So to take one example, in India the coconut tree and its fruit are esteemed as sacred to Sri, the goddess of prosperity. Similarly in west Africa large silk cotton trees are believed to be inhabited by the god of the forest, Huntin, and are honoured with girdles of palm leaves and the sacrifice of fowl. The Dieri tribe of central Australia believe that certain sacred trees contain the souls of their ancestors and are on no account to be cut down, and much the same attitude prevails among the Miao Kia people of southern China, where every village is guarded by a sacred tree believed to be inhabited by the soul of their first ancestor. A natural extension of this is the idea that trees themselves have souls or spirits. In Africa the peoples of the Congo region traditionally believed that all things could be divided into two categories: people living and dead, gods and unborn children are all muntu. Animals, stones and everything else are kintu. Trees are classified as muntu, however, because like people, they have roots and a head, and the word of the ancestors lives within them.

Another universal theme is that of the tree as the link between earth and sky, this world and the next. Voodoo ceremonies revolve around the Poteau-mitan, a post in the centre of the temple which links the worlds of heaven and earth and represents the tree of life. The Oglala Sioux of Dakota saw the world as a sacred hoop with a flowering tree at its centre. To the Mayans the silk cotton was the sacred world tree which supported the heavens and stood at the centre of the earth. The tree's roots, trunk and foliage represented the underworld, world and heaven. It was represented as a leafy cross and symbolised life itself. The shamans of the Central Asian Buryat and Altai climb a birch tree as part of their initiation cere-monies, symbolising the route they must take to ascend to heaven.

Needless to say, trees have also been used universally in spells and charms, to ensure fertility, to repel evil and affect cures. For example, we find that among the Mundaris in Assam every village has its sacred grove, whose deities are held responsible for the fertility of the crops and so are honoured at all the agricultural festivals. With a preoccupation shared right around the globe, pregnant women in certain tribes in the Congo make garments for themselves out of the bark of a particular sacred tree, in the belief that it will deliver them from the dangers of child bearing.

However, it is not necessary to hold such traditional beliefs to appreciate trees. Even when they are not regarded as sacred, trees have provided inspiration as metaphors and objects of beauty. Trees are often mentioned in the bible, for example, and Jesus frequently used them in his parables. For instance, in Matthew's gospel Jesus compared the message of the kingdom of Heaven to a mustard seed: 'It is the smallest of all seeds but when it grows up, it is the biggest of all plants. It becomes a tree, so that birds come and make their nests in its branches'. In Buddhism the bodhi tree has become famous as a symbol of wisdom, as it was under such a tree that Buddha first had his awakening. Finally of course, trees have provided inspiration for countless poets and artists down the ages. It will do to quote just one example from Shakespeare, where old age is compared to a tree in autumn: ‘That time of year thou mayst in me behold / When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang / Upon those boughs which shake against the cold/Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang'.

But even if we are not great religious leaders or artists, at a fundamental level it is possible for us all to connect with trees. For trees are not just objects of beauty or utility, but fellow living beings that breathe and grow and struggle to survive and recreate, just as we do ourselves. This is the real source, the heart of our fascination with trees and it will last as long as both we and they do.

"Ireland's Trees (Myths, Legends and Folklore)" excerpt from Niall Mac Coitir - Pt.2

Before discussing the letter names it is worth examining the compelling notion that Ogham and its link with trees may even have given the Irish their name in their own language. The Irish and Welsh at the time of Ogham's invention spoke very similar languages and they naturally borrowed words from one another. A striking feature of this is the fact that the Irish borrowed the word gwyddel from the Welsh to describe themselves. Most Irish people today are totally unaware that the name Gael or Gaedhil stems from a Welsh source. So what does gwyddel mean? Most scholars believe that it comes either from gwydd meaning 'wild' or gwydd meaning 'wood/forest. A gwyddel then is either a wild man or a man from the woods, neither of which is very complimentary. But if gwyddel is simply a derogatory word for a wild woodsman, why did the Irish adopt it with such enthusiasm? From the sixth century on, Irish genealogists and historians promoted the term to such an extent that Érainn, the original name for the Irish, almost became extinct?

The answer lies in looking at the meanings of other words in Welsh that derive from gwydd. Among them are gwyddon 'scholar/scientist and gwyddoniaeth 'science/knowledge'. Most interesting of all, however, is gwyddor 'rudiment/ element', or more specifically, 'alphabet' (the alphabet in Welsh is called Yr Wyddor). This last meaning is identical to that of the related Irish word fid which also means both 'wood' and 'letter'. Gwydd in Welsh thus seems to combine the meanings of the Irish words fios (wisdom or knowledge) and fid. In other words, far from gwyddel meaning a wild man of the woods, it in fact means something like 'one who has knowledge of tree-letters and is a reference to the use of the tree alphabet Ogham by the Irish. This must have been taken by them as a compliment to their learning and the name gwyddeleg adopted to describe the standardised Irish of the scholars, which was informed by the rules of grammar. Auraicept na nEces or the Scholar's Primer, is quite explicit that gaedelg (or gwyddeleg) is the 'selected language' of the scholars and that its invention coincided with the invention of the Beithluisnin or Ogham.

"Ireland's Trees (Myths, Legends and Folklore)" excerpt from Niall Mac Coitir

But there is a dimension to trees other than their numerous practical uses. There is something about trees that gives them a symbolic importance.

The lifecycle of a tree from seed to sapling to maturity, to withered old age and death, mirrors that of man. Trees, like people, bleed when cut, even if it is sap that flows out instead of blood. The tree is a powerful symbol of our own life in its various forms. Psychologically it is recognized that trees represent 'the living structure of our inner self'.  According to psychological theory, in dreams the roots represent our connection with the physical body, the trunk the way we direct our energies through growth, sex, thought and emotion. The branches represent the abilities and directions we develop in life and the growing tips show our aspirations and personal growth. Taken together these different dimensions to trees have led to them being seen since ancient times as powerful symbols of fertility, and the living abode of gods. The result is that a rich complex of myth, legend and folklore has built up around trees which is still with us today.

This dual aspect, both practical and symbolic, to the significance of trees brings us to one of the most basic mistakes made about tree folklore. Many scholars are uncomfortable with the idea of trees being regarded as sacred, and so try to find a practical explanation to refute such a notion. This approach is incorrect, since presenting practical reasons to oppose the sacred is a false dichotomy. Taking an example unrelated to trees, the Plain Indians of North America regard the buffalo as sacred, since it provides them with food from its meat, clothing and shelter from its hide, and various implements from its bones. It is seen as a gift from the Creator, imbued with supernatural powers, sacred because of its many important practical uses, not despite them. In the same way the oak was regarded as particularly favoured by the gods due to its many valuable attributes. The distinction between the sacred and the practical, therefore, is a very modern approach and it is inappropriate to project the distinction onto people who would not have understood it.

Excerpt from the Excellent Article by Takiwasi on Tobacco

"If Ayahuasca gets caught in the dark with a relatively passive attitude, receptivity, with the acceptance to be guided, Tobacco, on the other hand, requires a more active positioning. Tobacco refers to male psychic functions that are of particular interest to us, in psychotherapy or work on oneself, to discover or bring out in us these male characteristics or functions that are terribly lacking at the moment. Western society is very marked by a relatively destructive New Age atmosphere that gives too much space to women's functions. These are in no way negative, quite the contrary, but their excess induces a harmful imbalance between the masculine and the feminine. By this "male" virtue, the strength of Tobacco assumes a structuring role.

The first thing that will be offered to Christopher Columbus by the Arawak Indians upon his arrival in the New World is Tobacco. This means the importance it had for them, it was their gold, it was the most precious thing they had, it was what allowed them to come into contact with the gods, it was their sacrament.

Tobacco, therefore, universal in its uses, is also universal in its geographical distribution, because it is used all over the world. I have had the opportunity to travel to all continents and meet healers and, in any place, when offering Tobacco, it facilitates conversation: all healers immediately recognize and highly appreciate the power of Tobacco. It's the best gift we can give them, even in regions where it is not widely distributed, such as Mongolia where I went with my "mapachos", pure tobacco cigarettes (Nicotiana rustica).

Tobacco is essential in shamanic practices thanks to its particular power, to the point that, in some societies, the shaman or healer is "the one who consumes Tobacco". Among the Ashaninka, the healer or "sheripiari" is the one who "eats" Tobacco. He absorbs the chewing juice or swallows his smoke in order to "feed", to nourish his energies. In other ethnic groups, the shaman is called "the one who blows Tobacco", the one who is able and authorizes to blow Tobacco smoke on his patients. Certainly, blowing tobacco smoke, anyone can do it, but the shaman has the training and empowerment to blow tobacco smoke in an operative and effective way to balance the energy body. He must acquire a sufficient degree of control of the powers of Tobacco and his own energy body to be able to manage this operation. This earned Tobacco the qualification of "flesh or food of the Gods"3.

Tobacco is for some healers their essential plant and will then be referred to as "tabaquero". However, it is rarely an isolated use. Around the use of Tobacco, many other ritual or care practices can be articulated (baths, massages, etc.) and the spirit of Tobacco can be associated with the spirits of water, earth, air and fire.

Tobacco is the most powerful plant used in the Amazon, more important for example than Ayahuasca. Managing Tobacco requires great psychic, physical and spiritual mastery. If this management of Tobacco is badly done, the spirit of Tobacco, desecrated, escapes the control of the human being and will invest it, dominate it, even to the point of possibly possessing it. For the Indians it is equivalent to becoming a sorcerer. This "possession" is called smoking in the West."

https://www.takiwasi.com/fr/tabaqueros-ceremonie-tabac.php

Black Elk - Joe Jackson

To understand what would take shape in Sioux culture over the next decade—and how Black Elk fit into—one must grapple with the Lakota concept of power. As Black Elk would one day tell a disciple, one found power in truth, and that truth was "the oneness of all things." To the Lakola, Nature could be neither fully known nor controlled; the best a man could hope was to venerate Nature's power, then use it to the best of his abilities. Man could not stand apart from Nature, for he was part of it; though his role was to understand vast forces, he could never realistically seek to dominate them. One dared not stand above and outside Nature’s sacred hoop, for such a stance was the arrogance of fools. Since one could exist only inside the hoop, one must try to direct the flow of power from within. If anything, said the modern holy man John Fire Lame Deer, such an approach was "a way of looking at and understanding this earth, a sense of what it is all about.” It was, above all else, "a state of mind."

After decades of fighting the army, the Sioux had come to suspect that this was the basic difference between the wasichu [White man]  and them. Time had proved that the wasichu were human enough, not the maleficent spirits some feared during the tribewide debates of 1864. They bled like human beings, died like human beings, ran like cowards or fought as bravely as any warrior. Their parts were the same: they even bred and bore children by Lakota squaws.

The difference lay in the way they approached Nature: in essence, how they attained power. They stood outside the hoop and sought dominion. Their trains and fire-boats, guns and gunpowder, talking wires strung across the prairie—none were of this world. They might hail from forces teased from Nature, but none existed naturally. The consequences could be devastating: look what they had done to the buffalo. A people that could destroy something as limitless as Pte could destroy anything.

The Lakota, on the other hand, tried to work within Nature. To them, Wakan Tanka — understood generally as the "power of the universe"— could not be isolated from the natural world. No separation existed between the sacred and the secular. Every object had a spirit, called tonwan; thus, every object was holy, or wakan. Find a way to use tonwan and one found the power to do wakan things. 

It was the shamans who tapped such power, The Lakota called them wicasa wakan; whites, "the wakan man." Every Lakota individual sought spiritual power to some extent, usually through vision quests and dreams; such power could lend an advantage in battle, hunting, or healing. The shaman, on the other hand, was distinguished from and separated from the rest of society by the intensity of his experiences. There were all kinds of healers; the shaman healed, too, but on a grander scale. He specialized in the trance in which his soul left his body and journeyed across the spirit world. He went to the very source of Wakan Tanka. Most cultures had a myth or belief that a time once existed when a bridge spanned the gulf between heaven and earth, and communication was common between men and gods. But something happened and the connection crumbled. The wicasa wakan could reestablish connection. He was the bridge.

Throughout the Plains tribes—in fact throughout the world—similarities existed in how shamans were "made." Guides such as Black Road knew what to look for in the young. The first hint of power often came in a dream state that resembled death; after a time, the dreamer was resurected. In his dream, he encountered divine messengers that escorted him to an animal guide, which in turn took him to the Center of the World. There he found the World Tree, guarded by the Cosmic Lord, who bestowed upon him some kind of innate power or handed him a powerfull tool.

All this had been manifested in Black Elk, yet a certain timing was still necessary. The first signs of power often appeared with maturity. Among the Yakut of Siberia, the future shaman grew frenzied, lost consciousness, withdrew to the forest, flung himself into fire or water, slashed himself with knives—just like Black Elk when thunder called. The family appealed to an old shaman, as the Black Elks did to Black Road; the shaman attempted to teach the sufferer that this was merely a stage. Thus began his apprenticeship. Black Elk must learn the names and attributes of the various tanwan, how to summon and control them. Though merely a start, such steps brought relief. They showed the initiate that he was going through a process - and not going crazy. Initiation was the cure.