Lora O'Brien's Blog, page 2

On Non-Native Teachers in Ireland

This is my grumpy face ==>

Not my uber-grumpy face, or even my pissed off face, this is just the regular grumpy face.

It looks a lot like my regular regular face, actually, because I'm pretty woke and this world makes me pretty damn grumpy on a daily basis. This is today's grumpy.

​Actually, this is this morning's grumpy. There may be more today, let's be honest... So, I made comment yesterday in my Irish Magic and Spirituality Group on Facebook about "foreign dudes coming here and cashing in", which was in relation to an upcoming OBOD course that had been mentioned, but actually was a wider reaction to yet ANOTHER reference to a non-native person running a paid workshop in Ireland.

Let me clarify.

The comment was not specifically about Philip Carr-Gomm, whose work is actually very interesting and I certainly have no personal problem with, though I understand why it'd be read as such, and apologies for a grumpy general reaction on my part giving the impression that that particular foreign dude is someone I have a problem with. Himself and Emma Restall Orr are on my bookshelf, and I've met them at various events we've been teaching at over the years. Eimear Burke, who I've since found is the on-site organiser for this particular event, is an acquaintance and a respected peer/colleague in the Irish Pagan community. Sound folk. Good academics, responsible practice. All grand there like.

The problem though, and the cause of my reaction, is that's about the tenth workshop I've come across so far THIS MONTH, run by a non-native person travelling to Ireland to teach, most of which are costing a small fortune and from what I can tell, and reports from previous attendees - many of which are ignorant of or even disrespectful to the native energies and spirits here.

Folk who know me, or my teaching, know that I'm no fucking purist snob about Ireland. I don't give a shite about your DNA or bloodlines, what your granny from Limerick taught you about her Irish childhood, or any of the usual bullshit credentials seen in 'Celtic' spiritual communities. My lifetime's experience is that Irish spirituality, energies and magic is ALL about relationships with the land and the culture, from near or far - but it's particularly strongest when you're walking the land on a regular basis. Now, that doesn't have to entail living here, but it certainly fucking helps things.

As I said yesterday, if you transpose the outcry by responsible pagans about say, Native (First Nations) American spiritual appropriations for commercial gain, you might get an idea of our frustration. As a native person, this situation feels like appropriation to me, in general terms; when folk who don't live here are coming here to teach about Ireland. This is a living, breathing, immersive culture and energy we are dealing with. Live it, breath it, walk it.... then teach it.

Saying ALL that, I see the luck I have with living here. It's easy for me to say all this, and easy for folk who want to be here, but can't, to be very fucking frustrated with my viewpoint. Part of my teaching, and the work I admire from non-native folk, is how to connect from afar, without the 'easy access' we're blessed with here. And I have a huge abiding respect for the folk who DO the work to make that happen. There's definitely 2 sides to this story, and exceptions to every rule.

​But don't come to my island, expecting to teach me or my people how to be spiritual in our own tradition, and then be surprised that I get fucking grumpy about it. Don't come here to sell my culture, my heritage, to other non native folk at a profit, eschewing the value and wisdom of local guides and teachers, and then be surprised that I get fucking grumpy about it. And if I happen to get grumpy at the wrong person who is, on the surface of it, another foreign dude cashing in on Irish culture and heritage - by all means pull me up on that and explain why you think I'm wrong to lump him in with the norm I'm dealing with... but don't get fucking grumpy about it unless you've lived what I'm living here every day. What are your Thoughts?
​Leave a Comment Below and Let Us Know!

Rathmore - Rath Mór

Magh Aí, the plains of Cruachan.
Open spaces. Wide, wide open. No cover, shelter, no protection. The breeze rifled through her hair, shifting the cloak about her wasted form. Pulling the heavy garment closer, she turned to watch the digging of the trench.

As the earth was lifted out from below, they turned and piled it onto the bank above. Double protection in one movement. Economy, practicality. Excellent. Satisfied, she turned to the centre, to her home.

The three greatest households of Ireland they called us once: the household of Tara, the household of Cashel, and the household of Cruachan. That had changed when the enemy came - bringing terror, consistently uprooting, burning, taking their fill. For so long now her people had shivered in their shelters, underground, feeling their way outside by darkness. She grew to womanhood in the shadow of slavery, afraid and weak. But not anymore.

It took 700 mansfeet to step across from bank to bank inside the outer ring. It was only built smaller than the ritual mound she looked at over and across the Slighe Easail route way, because the Elders had told her it must be so. She wanted it bigger, better, stronger than any - she wanted the most impressive household in the land. And the safest.

Nobody lived in the ghost henge on top of Cruachan, the roadway lay empty and the fires stayed cold. Nobody cared for the old ways, the cry of the sacrifice had long been silent and the old Ones grew older in their schools. That place was no competition.

Women came round with food and strong drink for the men digging in the trenches. Not much, not enough. But soon that would change. Fortification building on the outer enclosure would begin soon enough, and then, then her people would be safe.

***
 
 
Many would make a case for Rathmore, or Rath Mór (the great fort) being the site of Cruachan's ancient royal residence. Many more would argue against this theory. We do know for sure at least that it was an important or high status residence, at some point in Medieval times. Not a lot to go on, it's true, but better than nothing. It is well protected, on a clearly elevated location, and stands beside an ancient route way (that is now the modern route way of the N5).

When I came first to the area, and my family travelled out to get 'the lay of the land', and this is the first Roscommon site that I set foot on. I formally introduced myself, and my family, to Rathcroghan at this site, and it has remained important to me ever since. It might be the fabled 'Palace at Cruachan', or it may not. In a Cattle Raid tale (there were quite a few of them, it was a popular past-time) called Táin Bo Fraích, this is written of the Royal Palace:

"This was the arrangement of the house: seven partitions in it, seven beds from the fire to the wall in the house all around. There was a fronting of bronze on each bed, carved red yew all covered with fair varied ornament. Three rods of bronze at the step of each bed. Seven rods of copper from the centre of the floor to the ridge-pole of the house. The house was built of pine. A roof of slates was on it outside. There were sixteen windows in it, and a shutter of copper for each of them ..." (Byrne and Dillon 1937)

Sounds great, doesn't it?  Very fancy, altogether. Is it just that - Medieval, or later, romanticised fancy? 

John Waddell describes Rathmore as a "prominent earthwork surrounded by a substantial rock-cut ditch with a raised area, enclosed by a stone built bank. It is a good example of a raised ring-fort..."  (Heritage Guide #44). Archaeological surveys have found that three round buildings stood on top, in a north-south orientation. We don't know whether they were there simultaneously or not, but a large round building in the centre of the fort would have made a fine feasting hall, within sight of the main ceremonial mound of Rathcroghan.

​From recent studies, it looks like this ringfort was further protected, and glorified, by a large surrounding enclosure. A fit palace for the Royalty of Rathcroghan, and perhaps even Queen Maeve herself.

Excerpt used with permission, from "Rathcroghan, A Journey", by Lora O'Brien

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Rathcroghan Main Mound

Bealtaine Dragons at Rathcroghan Mound, Photo by Andy Rimmer, 2010The people came.

Gathering below the mound, the air awash with talk and laughter, while the solemn hill slept. Flames blazed below, secure and safely watched, to ensure that light and life be carried to the top of Cruachan, to blaze out this festival of fire.

They came from all around, from other lands, friends old and new, local community. Some had never set foot on the hill before, despite having lived in the landscape their whole lives. Why?  This night was different, this night would wake the sleeping mound, where the secrets long buried are stirring and restless, but holding tight to the hidden mysteries. Cloaks and furs were seen, a Gaelic sword admired, colours and fabrics old and new blended seamlessly, and solid boots tied tight. Children wrapped in warmth and excitement at being up so late, at taking part in the grown-up business.

Torches high on poles lit up, warm flame carefully held aloft, smaller lights under glass for the younger ones. Through the gate and onto grass, single file procession as the drum began - a slow marching beat. Gravity easily wove with jest, children running back and forth, a glowing procession moving eastward to join with the ancient roadway leading in, and up. Through the eastern entrance, a slow ascent, and fire circle was formed atop the main mound once more.

The people called.

Calling to the island, to each province. Naming and inciting the ancient traits, the allocation giving balance to the land and to the people. Battle in the North. Prosperity in the East. Music in the South. Wisdom in the West. And the Sacred Centre shines bright. Remembering all that has been recognised, grown, protected, and gifted.

Circles encompassing all that we are, spiralled in closer. Telling the pattern what it is, marking the people’s place. This province, this fifth of our land - named, formed anew, remembered. And spiralled in closer, this county - this history that forms and binds. And spiralled in closer, this complex - these places used and re-used, offering majesty and heartland. And spiralled in closer, this community - providing support, living, working, teaching, connection,  for generations stretching back unknown. And spiralled in closer. Who are you in all of this?  Why are you here, atop this mound in a circle of fire?  Each person a sacred centre in the midst of all of this - the ancestry, the importance, the living breathing landscape.  

The people spoke.

They told their stories, of journey, of vision, of seeking, of home. They jumped the fire; for health, for happiness, for tradition, for fun. Some saw dragons, some say a phoenix rose from the flames, some perceived hope in a new generation who think and want and feel... something. The drummer continued a steady beat, a heartbeat for the night, giving voice to the silent rhythms. Torches and flames re-joined the fire as they gathered again below the mound, the air awash with talk and laughter.

The people left, and the hidden hill turned and slept.

***
 
The piece above is based on a participant’s interpretation of a seasonal community gathering, organised by Lora O'Brien, for Rathcroghan Visitor Centre, Cruachan Aí, Tulsk, Co. Roscommon. Bealtaine 2010.
 
 
The great Main Mound of the Rathcroghan complex is an impressive sight, even lacking the structures that once adorned the top, the vast surrounding enclosure, and without access to the chamber that some experts believe lies deep within the mound.

Geophysical surveys show clearly an enclosure of about 360 metres in diameter that once encircled this monument - a ditch that was about 5 metres wide. It looks like the formal approach was from the East, with a route way marked probably by a timber palisade fence leading up to the depression entrance (the depression possibly formed by a collapsed passage into a chamber beneath the hill?) that is still clearly visible as a notch in the hillside. As far as we know, this has always been a ritual or ceremonial site, not domestic or agricultural. Each successive period placed its own mark on the mound.

The mound itself is just under 90 metres in diameter, and similar timber palisade fencing would also have encircled the base. Inside, a few metres below the surface, surveys have shown that there are two stone walls, nested one inside the other, with the inside one about 22 metres across. On top, there was, at some point in history, a circular wooden structure, again with concentric walls. Circles within circles within circles.

Rathcroghan mound had many distinct layers of construction and use, and it is exceptionally difficult to separate out the features, or date them with any accuracy, at this point. Perhaps someday we'll see a full archaeological excavation into the ancestral depths, but for now, the mound holds her memories safe and secure within.

Excerpt used with permission, from "Rathcroghan, A Journey", by Lora O'Brien

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Seeking Brighid

"Daimler has an instinctive and obvious understanding of Irish heritage which is rare for someone not born of this land. Combined with exceptional scholarship and sensible practice, this makes her work invaluable."

Me - on reviewing "Brigid: Meeting the Celtic Goddess of Poetry, Forge, and Healing Well",
by  Morgan Daimler (Pagan Portals release, March 2016) I was delighted to see Morgan had tackled the topic of Brighid (pronounced Breedj), or Brigid, the Irish Goddess.

There is a huge amount of literature and lore on our Irish St. Brigid - indeed, she's more our island's Patron Saint really than Patrick ever was, though of course doesn't he get all the credit?

But there's relatively little beyond the faff and fluff of New Age nicety on working with the old Goddess, and anything I've come across from folk who follow her today... well, let's just say it wouldn't be tying in well with my own experiences of her.

See? I can do diplomacy! I didn't even say once that most of the modern Brighid followers are full of fluffy shite. Go me :-)

I like Morgan's writing, I really appreciate her original translations from Old Irish (seriously, check out her blog for the good stuff), and I very much relate to her common sense, psychologically sound attitude towards the Work. Her Brighid book lays a solid academic foundation for anyone looking for this Goddess.

As we're coming to Imbolg though, I wanted to get some of the Brighid stuff that's roiling in my mind out for a good oul airing.

Cards on the table, in case you don't know me yet (hi, nice to meet ya, btw), I'm a Priestess of a different Irish Goddess, and She doesn't like me to play with others, for the most part. So, I don't. For the most part. She gives me plenty to be getting on with.

So when I've come across Brighid it's been sorta by accident, usually when I'm Guiding or Working at an ancient site associated with the Tuatha Dé Danaan. And she's far from fucking fluffy, let me tell ya.

Maybe I should dial this back a bit, and go into my take on deity. For clarity.

I work a LOT with Archetypes, as per Carl Jung's theories on spirituality and such. For more on this, I recommend Vivianne Crowley's excellent book "Jungian Spirituality: The Only Introduction You'll Ever Need". I teach workshops that go into this in depth, to give a practical toolkit and skillset for "Journeys in the Irish Otherworld" - there's a HUGE amount of crossover there, trust me.

My 'Theory of Stuff'(tm) runs something like this:

First off, I’d probably better explain a wee bit about how I view this deity business.  My personal theory runs as follows. It’s like the universe is made up of many teeny tiny almost imperceptible particles that behave in ways we may not understand yet. Whatever you want to call said particles is grand; I usually settle on ‘Universal Energy’. Actually, that’s only when I’m being all posh, truly, I usually refer to it as Universe Stuff. So, anyway, this Universe Stuff… right, I’ve noticed I’m still being a wee bit posh, and I’ll be talking about it as just plain old Stuff from here on. I’ll do you the courtesy of capitalisation, so that I don’t have you confusing it with my kids' socks and toys, or my partner’s tools – all that will remain just plain old stuff. See the difference? Great! 

So, this Stuff is all around us. In everything, of everything, a part of us and rocks and trees and stars and water and humans and eggs and insects and dolphins and yes, even politicians. A lot of it is free floating though, out there in the Universe. Humans can move it around a bit, but it’s quite hard to influence it directly, but the Universe (Powers that Be, Higher Consciousness, Greater Good, God, Gods, Greater God, David Bowie… whatever) can shape or mould or send it as suits the Big Picture. Feel free to agree or disagree with any of this folks, it is an essentially un-provable theory that, if it does nothing else, helps me sleep a little better at night. I’m good with that, but I encourage you to adapt or come up with your own theory/theories, according to your personal nightly sleep needs.

For thousands of years, humans have been thinking. Thinking about stuff. And probably, thinking about Stuff. Noticing how it moves, how it behaves, how we can play with it and make it gather in certain ways (for some humans), or noticing when it gathers in certain ways naturally, and what that forms into (for most humans). Because I think that our human concepts, our more abstract theories, emotions and perceptions (love, hate, war, happiness, inspiration, art forms, and all that jazz), have all been anthropomorphised, along with archetypes of humanity, natural phenomena and features of our natural world – they have all been explained or imagined in human shaped terms at some point way back in our history. 

When they are imagined in human shaped terms, and talked about, and stories told about them, and other people begin to think about them, and explain them and talk about them in the same ways, and their stories grow as energy is fed into them, and Stuff gathers round them, and they become a little more real in this people world than they had been before. So more people begin to think about them, and talk about them, and feed them... and this, I believe, is how you grow a God. 

Eventually.

Excerpt from 'A Practical Guide to Irish Spirituality',
Wolfpack Publishers, 2012
Archetypes + Stuff + Human Belief and Interaction = Gods. Make sense? Great!

When I started studying the Irish Gods from a Pagan perspective, rather than just being aware and familiar as the stories I grew up with, I started with Tuatha Dé Danaan Brighid. 'Exalted One', daughter of the Dagda - a powerful TDD princess or queen (married to the half Fomorian King Bres) who was in charge of poetry, healing, and smithcraft. My early explorations led me to the understanding of her fire connection in this context:Poet - the spark of inspiration, the passion of creationHealer - the fever that burns away illness, the cleansing flameSmith - the deep forge furnace that controls iron magic, the melting pot of change
I followed the thread through to christian times, with the coming of St Brigid, daughter of a Druid priest; she who was born on a threshold between worlds, she who was a leader and a healer and a powerful worker of magical 'miracles'.

We can still see today the 19 nuns who tend Her 'eternal flame' in County Kildare, a sanctuary described by Giraldus Cambrensis and other chroniclers as surrounded by a hedge, which no man could cross, lest they be cursed to go insane, die or be crippled. They're christian nuns these days, but it's fairly obviously the continuation of a tradition WAY older than the Jesus stuff.

And the Pagans now who call her the 'Celtic Goddess of Inspiration and Healing', she who will keep your animals safe and kiss your brow if you've got the sniffles and are feeling miserable, may her sacred light shine on us all for ever and ever amen. No, not amen. Blessed Be, that's the one.

That's lovely though.

I mean, we do need that sort of gentle energy in our lives, like most of us do, and somebody 'safe' to go to in times of trouble and strife. It's important dammit.

That's pretty much where I left it with her. She seemed so... nice. Working with Her would be easy enough like, but even then (we're talking 20 year ago now, way before the other oul wagon got her hooks in me), I knew Brighid wasn't for me to work with.

Then I met her.

She laughed at me, thinking I had her pegged, a nice linear development. She full on taunted me with my own naivety like.

Brighid showed me Her sisters, Herself. I had to come to think of Her as 'Source Brighid', the one closest to the Archetypal energy, coz it all got real confusing real fast.

Her sisters exist, are real and independent Beings in their own right. Each is a carefully maintained Persona, interacting with those humans who see Her that particular way. Forming relationships, accepting the worship, the devotion...

She called it "Gettin' the Feed".

Because they all link back to Her, Source Brighid. And She is a different thing altogether. She is... something Else. She can be fluid, less formed, as She gets her energy without having to maintain a specific structure. She is of the land, in the land, and VERY much connected to the Tuatha De Danaan sites in the North West of Ireland. Her Sisters take care of the well water, and the protective woven crosses (they are lucrative energy sources), but She keeps clear of all that.

The Brighid I meet is a very interesting creature, and her Archetypal source energy, unsurprisingly, is Fire made form. So. Fucking. Powerful. Awesome and terrifying and playful and tricksy and dangerous and delightful and downright incomprehensible for these paltry human brains She doesn't usually deign to interact with.

I think I get to stop writing now. And sidle away carefully, respectfully.

Along with so many of my country folk, on the land and across the world, I'll be making a Cros Bhríde (Brigid's Cross) this Imbolg as a household protection for the year to come. I'll keep the local Brigid's Well observances and traditions.

But I will side-eye the fuck out of anyone who presumes that's all there is to Her, whilst acknowledging Her in silent honour at the heart of every flame I kindle, sacred or mundane.

For She is the essence of Fire, made manifest through Her will, and our relationship through the ages with its useful, dangerous glory.

Or, maybe I'm just a weirdo nut-job, making shit up. But hey - at least it helps me sleep a little better at night...
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Why There Were Few Irish Witch Trials

​It starts with the Sidhe, good readers, or the Fairies as you may know them.

The Irish have a very matter of fact view of the Sidhe, whatever we call them by. Today and tomorrow, hawthorn trees and bushes will be left right alone, because the fairies like to rest there. Best not to disturb them, just in case. It is happening somewhere in Ireland every day, by people who would not, not ever in a million years, think of themselves as any sort of Pagan type.

The fairies are still respected, and largely feared. You don’t annoy them, neither through ignorance or thoughtless action. And a lot of us here in Ireland couldn’t even tell you - or wouldn’t at least - why this is so. 

At a time when (mostly innocent) people were being burned and hanged all across Europe, in the tens of thousands (perhaps hundreds of thousands - figures are unclear, even yet, but 9 million seems a little on the excessive side), Ireland was relatively unscathed. 

Were there less odd old women in rural villages here? Anybody walking through a rural village in Ireland today will likely find themselves tripping over odd old women, so that seems unlikely.
 
They are a staple of Irish village life, in all their muttering moustachioed glorious strangeness, and I seriously doubt the Middle Ages were any different. So why the lack of burning or hanging for the odd old Irish women, compared to contemporary European counterparts? 

A theory of mine is the sheer practical integration of the fairy culture over here. Picture the scene in a small German village (Germany displayed perhaps the most voracious of appetites for witch rooting and killing, whole villages were decimated) - odd happenings abound, milk turns sour, butter won’t churn, children and animals sicken, even die… the villagers begin to look around suspiciously for the cause. 

Often, suspicion alights on the odd old woman who lives at the edge of the village, smells a bit peculiar, maybe has a bit of extra knowledge about animals, plants, or healing, and before you know it, the poor oul one finds herself tied to a ducking stool and taking a bath she hadn’t planned for. You get the picture – clichéd, certainly, but these things are clichés for a reason. 

Same deal, in an Irish village… the villagers instead begin to wonder if someone has been throwing their dirty wash water out in the wrong place, and look to their own homes for the remedy – a little extra butter left out, or whiskey or cream, a few other bits and pieces of fairy friendly house or farm work that might need to be picked up on again, and that’s that. The odd old woman on the edge of the village gets to stay smelly and dry and muttering to herself for a wee while yet.

And it still holds today. The average Irish person now probably won’t be integrating fairy culture into their everyday life, but when they come across it, either from a modern Pagan type or the old boy down the pub who still remembers, it’s given a respectful listen at least, even if it’s then usually passed over with a casual shrug.

But if it comes in the form of a warning, the listening gets a bit more careful, and there might even be actions taken, or not taken as a result. When asked directly, they will say they don’t believe in fairies, for the most part – but maybe that there’s no harm in being careful. 

​Better safe than sorry, right?

Excerpt from 'A Practical Guide to Irish Spirituality', by Lora O'Brien
2012, Wolfpack Publishers, Ireland. (

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The Royal Sites of Ireland

Provincial Royal Sites - Linked by Form and Ritual
Circles & Avenues: Rathcroghan, Navan, Knockaulin (Waddell, Fenwick, Barton - Chapter 5, fig 5.42) The Royal Sites of Ireland are important places of assembly, ceremony, burial, and royal inauguration ritual; located in the four provinces of Ireland and the central region of Meath and Westmeath.

Tara in the Middle (Meath), Navan Fort in Ulster (North), Dún Ailinne in Leinster (East), Cashel in Munster (South), and Rathcroghan in Connacht (West), were major seats of the Kings and Queens in Iron Age Ireland, while Uisneach is the traditional ‘Navel of Ireland’, where all provinces met.
As we see in the included 'Circles and Avenues' image, Rathcroghan and two of the other Royal Sites at Navan Fort, and Dún Ailinne, were enclosed by impressive circular monuments of great width. All of these provincial centres form part of large ritual landscapes with many sacred and ceremonial sites concentrated in a relatively small area - but none so large or complex as at Rathcroghan.

Activity at these sites stretches from deep roots in the Stone Age, through the Bronze Age, to the height of power during the Iron Age, and even on into Medieval Christian times. Modern spiritual seekers still gather at the sites which are accessible today.

Their presence in the landscape was commanding, sited at strategic and elevated positions, and each grew organically through many phases of use, but always with a similarity of form - as is clear from the Circles and Avenues image - and a distinct spiritual and ritual focus.

What ancient Irish Kings and Queens were inaugurated and lived, were born or buried at these Royal Sites?
You Might Also Like: Before the Iron Age at Rathcroghan
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About the Author - Lora O'Brien 2015

A brief history of Irish Author and Educator Lora O’Brien, for those who want to know...

She grew up in an Irish storytelling, rowdy folk song singing, heritage exploring, nature loving family of definitely not witches.

Nope, no ‘genuine family tradition’ of super authentic olde medieval grimoires round here… just lots of the actually important connection to community, flora and fauna, folk and fairy tales, ancient sites, songs and stories of Ireland.

After figuring out consciously at the age of 14 that there was DEFINITELY something different about how she viewed deity and religion, then discovering and reading about modern Paganism from the age of 16, she found a Traditional Alexandrian Wiccan coven in 1996, and had accomplished training and experience to 3rd Degree High Priestess level by 2002, when she left Wicca and began exploring the OTO magic and initiation cycles.

A move to Co. Roscommon (the magical and spiritual heartland of Ireland) opened up a whole new branch of native Irish learning and practice, as well as the start of her journalism career, and her first book was published in 2005 - 'Irish Witchcraft from an Irish Witch' (Career Press, USA, ISBN 978-1564147592).

Lora then began her Irish heritage and native spirituality work in a professional capacity, first guiding tourists in County Roscommon, and moving on in 2007 to manage the Rathcroghan Heritage and Visitor Centre business; which gave her a fascinating insight and first-hand experience with Irish archaeology, geology, and anthropology, as well as the mythology, but effectively put a stop to her writing.

In 2011 she began to study Psychology, and the following year (Dec 2012) published her second book - 'A Practical Guide to Irish Spirituality' (Wolfpack Publishers, Ireland, ISBN 978-0957499409).

By 2014 she had ‘quit her day job’ to write and teach full time, incl. in USA and Italy, and of course, in Ireland. Talks began with American publisher Llewellyn for her next book, and contracts were signed for "A Practical Guide to Irish Magic" at the end of 2015.
Get the Full Story in her own words here:
Finding My Path - Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

Lora O'Brien... Irish Witch!

We are not amused... I've been 'out of the broom closet', so to speak, living openly and learning consciously with my chosen path for more than 21 years now.

When I was younger, witchcraft was my label of choice (and I trained for many years in a Trad Wiccan coven), though these days I prefer to refer to my Native Irish Spirituality, and if I need a title, it's just Bean Draoí - which translates as 'female user of magic'.
My lovely friend and former HPS, Barbara Lee, reminded me of an old article we both featured in many moons back, and it sent me thinking about previous media contact, before I started writing for the press myself full time.

I didn't go looking for the video or radio archives (though if anyone can find a clip of the Nationwide show where I ritually re-enacted as the Goddess Tailtiu, post it in the comments!), but the national paper of record, the Irish Times, has featured me 3 times that I can find and (mostly) remember.

While I am a CONSTANT let down to press photographers and videographers who ask, nay beg me for a swirling velvet cloak or a sparkly crystal ball and broomstick, I do like to be able to provide a wee down to earth voice of reason. No frills, no fucks given.

So, enjoy!
Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

One self-described witch who'll be celebrating is Lora O'Brien, a 26-year-old Dublin-born mother of two who has just written Irish Witchcraft From An Irish Witch. "Samhain," she explains - using the Irish name for this most important of ancient festivals, which is often referred to as the pagan or witches' new year - "is the main 'time between times'. This means that it's especially a time for divination, magical activity and communing with spirits".

Irish Times: 26th October 2004
The Magic of Watching the Witch

"Did she threaten to curse her?" asks Lora O'Brien, author of Irish Witchcraft From An Irish Witch, who hasn't actually seen Big Brother yet. "That's the kind of thing I'd be worried about. People fighting in a stressful situation is one thing, but I'd be afraid the witchcraft would be made an angle. That's not what it's about or what it's for, and I'd hate to think that your average Big Brother watcher is getting that impression.

Irish Times: 4th June 2005
Witchcraft, but Not as You Know it

It’s an unusual life choice, one which some people would find bizarre. But O’Brien says such scepticism is unjustified: “A lot of pagan people are involved in the caring professions or in community work, putting their spiritual ethos into their professions. There’s a lot of altruistic work going on out there under the radar.”

She adds that once people know more about paganism, it becomes less threatening. “In 2005 I published a book about my experiences and the publishers insisted on a headline-grabbing title. So it was called Irish Witchcraft from an Irish Witch. People reacted negatively to the title, and when my granny wanted to read it, members of my family tried to discourage her, they thought she’d be shocked. But granny said it was just like listening to stories that her own granny told her. And I think that’s true. Whatever label you put on it, it’s just the stuff that’s always been here in Ireland – things like cures for warts and so on. It’s actually very familiar.”

Irish Times: 1st October 2011
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Before the Iron Age at Rathcroghan

Carnfree, by William Wilde, 1880

Iron Age warrior tales feature strongly at Rathcroghan, Royal Site of Connacht - but what were people doing in this landscape before that?

Rathbeag, the little fort, is a ring-barrow set on a natural height, 36 metres in diameter, with a covered cairn in the centre, surrounded by two earthen ridges.  It is said that fifty warriors are buried on the plains of Cruachan.  If that is so, surely this site is the burial mound of a great hero - a death to be remembered through the ages. Could this be the true grave of Queen Medb (Maeve) of Connacht?

Duma Selga and Carnfree sit side by side, 2 miles south of Tulsk on a great height within the Rathcroghan Complex. Carnfree is recorded as the kingship inauguration site of the O’Conor clan, and it’s majestic position fits well with that. Duma Selga, the Mound of Selc, is a double ringed earthwork, parallel to that found at Tara. It is made of a conjoined ring-barrow and ringfort, and shows many phases of activity. This started as a large and important burial mound with broad ditches and banks, with a ringfort (possibly enclosing a large rectangular building) added at a later date. The living forged a link with their ancestors here, and laid claim to the land and their heritage in a very potent way.

That’s not the first time this connection to the dead was made by those living at Rathcroghan – the earliest monument is a Stone Age court tomb called Cloghan na gCoirp, the stones of the dead. It stands by a stream, and an early agricultural community settled beside it about 5,000 years ago.

Daithi’s Stone stands on a large ring-barrow burial mound, enclosed by an earthen bank and ditch, and is the only monument that has been excavated in modern times, with burnt wood found there dated back over 2,200 years. Legend says this is the site of burial for the last Pagan King of Ireland, and the grave of Daithí is marked by a Red Pillar Stone, the Coirthe Dearg.   
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How To Make Sure You're Not Treated Like One of THOSE Tourists in Ireland...

"You Guys! You're like, SO cute, can I take your picture? This is so quaint!"

(There's a presumption that American Tourists are) ...insensitive rude people who think the only way to do things properly is their way. This presumption isn't limited to Irish People of course. But I find I have to prove myself to not be "one of those Yanks" before people will trust me and open up. However, it is ALWAYS worth the effort. - My friend Kass McGann, of Reconstructing History.

We've all met them.

The ones who make us cringe a little inside. The ones who presume we're idiots and proceed to explain how things should be done right. The ones who are loud and brash and rude.

But, #NotAllAmericans... amirite?!

Actually, yeah. Thankfully that stereotypical American Tourist in Ireland is only a sliver of the tourism trade here - we had 1,005,000 total visitors from the USA in 2014. They weren't all morons, or we'd have had a feckin' riot on our hands like. There's only so many times a proud people can bear being called cute or quaint.

So, for those of you travelling to Ireland who have a genuine love and respect for the land and people, who would love to seriously connect here... how do you do it right?
Here's some Handy Tips for American Tourists!

Listen More Than You Talk

Ok so this one could fall into the category of giving your Irish hosts a wee ego stroke, coz we do love the sound of our own voices, for the most part. Fair enough.

But it's also about hearing the stories. Given half a chance, most Irish folk will blether away for hours with story after story, all leading into each other and weaving round in a fierce tangle of history, culture, experience, and plain old gossip.

It's actually fucking amazing when you catch someone in a good flow and just leave em off. They'll chat for hours, especially if there's drinks to hand to whet the whistle a wee bit and keep things flowing smoothly.

And not just one to one either. Take a bus, or go sit in a busy cafe or pub up at the bar. As a writer, and someone genuinely fascinated by people - I do this a lot. Irish people are most often emotive, and passionate, and so feckin' funny you'll be hard pushed not to give away your eavesdropping by cracking the fuck up laughing.

You'll learn a lot when you listen.


Act Like a (Polite) Guest in Someone Else's House

My friend Kass again, she reckons this is the way to go. She explained:

acting like you're a guest in someone else's house is a good idea. I think we Americans go about the world with a "customer is always right" attitude and that doesn't help when you're trying to get to know another culture. I once knew a man in an Irish guest house who went into the landlady's kitchen UNINVITED to "teach her how to make eggs properly". I could have cried. I was completely embarrassed even though I didn't know the guy.

Yeah, all of us working in tourism have met that guy.

Things are gonna be different in another culture. Sometimes, really really different. AND THAT'S OK. It will happen, so just go with it.

You're (hopefully) travelling here to experience Irish culture, not try to turn it into American culture. We eat our fucking eggs differently, ok? (Um, some of us also curse a lot, in case you hadn't noticed. Best get used to that one too.)

Don't be that guy.


On the Etiquette of Accepting Stuff That's Offered

Hospitality is a big deal in Ireland.

Like, a really big deal. I'm not sure how to emphasise this appropriately enough, so you should go an watch Mrs. Doyle's Best Bits. You don't feel like it? But sure, whyever not? Go on and watch her now. Ah you will. Go on, Go on, Go on. Go On.

There now. See what I mean?

The thing is though, when someone offers, it's polite not to snatch the hand off them for a sandwich or a cuppa, no matter how starving or parched you're feeling. You do the polite refusal. Then they ask are ya sure? You might think you're safe enough to say yes the second time... but no. You politely refuse again. It's only on the third time, when they ask are ya REALLY sure, then you can say "Ah go on so, I will, thanks".

I don't know why. It's just how it's done.

Oh, and don't forget the crucial thing when this happens in a pub situation. Someone in a group will be feeling flaithulach and get a round in. Yes, I know ye all said ye'd stay on your own and not buy into getting rounds of drinks. It's just a thing that happens sometimes. Unless you're stingy, and nobody wants to be stingy.

So, even if you're still, really, definitely not getting into rounds... you HAVE to buy that person a drink back. Yup, even if they don't ever wet their lips with it. You just have to.

On that note... Take this Test and figure out if you're Stingy or Flaithulach, so you can be prepared for these things. You might want to warn folk.

It's for the best.
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