My gun ainm ábhar stands before me on the Spiral of Síoraíocht, bowing and panting after his impressive performance of The Chariot Wheel. A more exciting display of manly strength, grace and dexterity has never been witnessed by my Deirfiúrachas Sgáith. A roar louder than the ninth wave reverberates in the hall as fifty young amazons stomp their feet on the ground and whoop and holler: "Ábhar Buanand! Ábhar Buanand!" I nod my approval and invite him to sit and rest while I perform the second rite of initation. His ever-attentive Urra comes quickly to his side with fresh water for his parched throat, soothing lineament for his taut muscles and soft white bog cotton for his damp brow. The piob mhor and all but one bodhrán stop playing and every third torch is extinguished. In seven great strides I leave the fonnad and stand in the still shadows at the centre of the roth. First I focus on my bradán by calming my thoughts with leapaidh lánlaidhí and dùisg, until body and mind are synchronised. Then I sit cross-legged in the cuairt coimhgí - where the spokes meet - and begin the Rite of Imbas Forosnai by chanting into the palms of my hands. Though recognition stirs in an gun ainm ábhar, the unfolding of the threefold mysteries of illumination promises a new journey of discovery. The bodhrán gently increases in tempo and nine maidens dance nimbly round me three times sunwise. Over the right arm of each is draped a representation of the nine sacred animals of Craobh Sgaith. In the left hand of each is a small oaken bowl containing a piece of raw carcass, and in the right a hoof, paw, feather or fin. When the bodhrán stops, the Deirfiúracha place their threefold gifts equidistant from the others, forming a circle around me. Now begins the challenge! I must choose an animal. Though I have met and mastered all nine animals and have chosen my guide, each has many layers. Just when I congratulate myself on discovering one layer, a new one is revealed. And each journey is different. Even if I choose the same animal twice, or one that someone else has chosen, the lessons learned, the wisdom gained, will be unique. I reach through tribal dreams and indigenous memories and choose the bowl of corr meat in honour of my ábhar and his De Danann guardian. I chew the raw flesh of my emisary slowly while meditating with my palms over my eyes. Imbas flows through me. No more than a stray glimmer of light between dawn and dark, I wrap myself in the crane feather cloak before me and fall into a deep trance. For three days and three nights the Deirfiúrachas Sgáith watch over me, permitting no one to enter or leave Màrrach Mór. Deep in the belly of the crane, my heart beats the rhythm of the bodhrán and the blood in my body sings a glad song. A heightened awareness of the secret knowledge of the surrounding space washes over me. A low voice croons a bittersweet song of ancient wisdom in my ear: From the looms of Life are spun, Warp of shadow and woof of sun. "Where are you? Show yourself!" I demand. From out of the dark a shimmering white crane suddenly appears before me, bobbing and weaving and flapping its wings as though daring me to attack. Speaking with the tongue of the deep sea, it asks me three questions: "Cait a-ni bheil thu dol?" "Cuine tha Thu falbh?" "Cuine this- thu rithisd?" "I am going with you now and will return when I am ready." Pleased with my answer, the crane vanishes. Through Imbas Forosnai I have met my animal of choice. Now through the Rite of Tenm Laida I will follow and learn. Having reached the proper receptive state, I signal my Deirféar with the Crane Call that I am ready for the next transition. Saoibhar rips the feather cloak from my body. The instantaneous transition from dark to light triggers a spontaneous transformation. With a great swooping motion, I pick up the beak she had placed in front of me earlier and through my right wing absorb the secrets contained within. I glide around the hall on my powerful wings and land gracefully on the place where end meets beginning. I raise a wingtip to the piobhar for a lively tune and proceed to demonstrate the fierce defensive techniques of the crane. Holding my fourth finger and thumb together at the tips to form a beak with a strong surface, I deliver deceptively powerful strikes. My highly mobile attacks from strange angles make me a tough opponent. With Spurt of Speed, I leap into the air with an excess of libido to signify my essential energy of spirit. Next I stand on one leg for hours to demonstrate my longevity and power of will. With elegant sweep of wing I bow to my ábhar and sing a riddle: I travel on wind and sea, I dream for an eternity, An Otherworld traveller, A shapeshifting wanderer. Who am I? All present responds in unison: "I am Corr, Guardian of Secrets!" Taking her cue, Saoibhar is by my side with a cuach of honied hazelnut milk. The nourishing liquid soothes my parched throat and transforms my wings to womanly curves. She leads me to my seat under the great yew with Ciannait and an gun ainm ábhar in tow. Still ablaze with imbas a riddle of instructions pours like honey from my tongue: Armed with thought and courage At the thresold of your journey, Flaming white sword unsheathed, Test the temper of your mettle, Take the measure of the man, Seek the hammer, chisel and harp, Feel the hot ember that burns, Spin the screeching chariot wheel, Dance along the spiral of birch. In the shadows beyond the seas, Find your shape and let it flow. From inside your darkened womb, Chant not placenames, kings and queens, Shift not what you saw, heard and did, But what you see, hear and do. "Now go choose your animal, absorb its secrets and learn its skills. And remember! Nine Deirfiúrachas Sgáith will set before you the three greatest gifts of each of the nine animals of Craobh Sgaith: the raw power of its physical form; the enclosing womb of its feathered cloak, scaly belt or hide of hair; and the symbolic beak, hoof, paw or fin of its essential shape. Use them wisely mo gun ainm ábhar!" _______ Gaelic Glossary an gun ainm ábhar - the nameless pupil corr - crane cuairt coimhgí - circle of safe-keepings Deirfiúracha - sisters fonnad - iron tire (rim) Imbas Forosnai - Poetic Inspiration Tenm Laida - Cracking open the Nuts of Wisdom roth - wheel Sources Imbas Forosnai by Nora Chadwick