Ancient Sites | Dowsing | Modern Druidry | Quests | Ritual

The Coronation Rath

June 15, 2012

Finally we have reached the end of the tales of my ancestor energies quest. In this final post I complete the tale, telling you about the final two steps that I was required to go through in order to walk away with my prize. After the astonishing psychic battle that I had just participated in, the final two rituals were mere ceremony. Yet they seemed such the right things to be done at this stage that I went along with the information that I received, and went with the feeling of completing the quest in the “right way”, rather than simply walking away with my ancestral booty. I felt a sense of duty, of responsibility, and a sense of respect for the forces, the entities, the ancestors that had guarded the energies I was now hoping to take home with me, in fact IN me.

Gifts at  Rath Baeg

As we drove away from Rath na Dtarbh down the narrow country lane that would lead us back to the main road we again passed Rath Baeg. In a sudden impulse I pulled in at the pay-by and parked up. Kal looked at me quizzically. I simply said, “There’s something I need to do here.” without really knowing what that would be yet. Hopefully, now that I was ‘allowed’ to dowse again, I could soon find the answer to that little problem.

The first thing I needed was a ‘safe’ path to a compatible power centre.

RITUAL PATH: Let me explain my concept of a ritual path. When I dowse I ask for a path that will take me to a power centre, and which will not drain any of the energies that I have accumulated recently. This is especially important if I have just done some energy work to cleanse and re-energise myself. A ritual path ensures that I get to my goal with as much energy as I started.

I call it a ‘ritual’ path because I have found that, especially at sacred sites, the path is usually a path established and used by the people who worked at the site (e.g. priests, druids, and other energy workers). Whether they knew it or not they were using a path that ensured they retained all their already-established energy.

The path up the side of the rath’s steeply ridged embankment was a familiar if exaggerated zig-zag formation. I wove left and right, but always moving one terrace higher as I approached the summit. At the top I had a view of the two other rath’s that had featured in my adventures that day – Rathcroghan and Rath na Dtarbh – the three rings together forming a right-angled triangle.

Rath Baeg – a place to give thanks

What was I supposed to do here, I wondered? The rods couldn’t help me now – this was communing work. I had to let the spirit of the place seep into my consciousness and tell me what was required of me at this stage. My mind melted into the now familiar landscape, the gently rolling lush green surfaces occasionally broken by trees. Soon the surroundings were an optional backdrop as my foreground consciousness began to rescind control, and a different form of attention – a wider attention – was allowed to emerge.

In a flash I knew what I needed to do. I needed to give thanks to all of those energy forms, the other intelligences, the leprechauns, the sprites and spirits that had helped me get to this point. To do this I lit some incense, and then I sat intending to leave an energy parcel of thankfulness, love and joy. That was what was required, I felt. Genuine emotional intent to be deposited on this rath.

Soon I was back to a waking state and walking mindfully back down the zig-zag path, feeling for the most favourable moment to turn and descend the little drops of the turf terraces until I was back at the car. It felt good to have paid my respects.

Rath Mor

Maybe I didn’t come out of that meditative state properly. I seemed to be in a very intuitive state of mind after Rath Baeg. I knew what I needed to do, and where I needed to do it. With an air of decisiveness I told Kal that we needed to visit one last place – and it would be a mound where I would go through a coronation ceremony, during which I would finally receive the “crowning glory” of the whole episode. This much I seemed to know without any external rationale coming into play. Kal politely went along with it. Hey – it was on the way back to civilisation, right? Let’s do it!

We parked at Rath Mor. The main road traffic trammeled by like blistering bullets, unaware that one of these two tourists was about to do something strange.

Still in a dazed state I asked Kal whether he had any food or drink left. He did. The sandwiches that he should have eaten yesterday were still around. He offered the last sandwich to me, and what was left of his water. I thanked him distractedly, and then got out a single dowsing rod. “Please show me the correct entry way to this site.” I asked the rod. As I walked to give the process some momentum the rods began to move, showing me the path to take, which was almost straight up the front face of the ringfort’s roadside face.

The steepness of the approach felt wearing after our long day, but a part of me said “There’s no gain without effort.” Yeah, I really needed to hear that right now! As I reached the flattened inner sanctum of the rath the rod began to form a more circular trajectory, arcing me into a spiral that was almost the centre of the small and intimate plateau. I seemed to be shielded from the wind and road noise in here, so I settled on the indicated power centre and began to lay out the food and drink as an offering. Who to, I didn’t know yet. Let’s see who appears!

Rath Mor – a place of coronation

I felt this was the right time. Or rather, this place was being visited in the right order. We had almost visited the rath earlier in the day, but then I had suggested we carry on, as it didn’t feel right. Now it did. I had a feeling that I belonged there somehow. That I wasn’t alone, not that solitude bothered me. I settled into the power centre and closed my eyes to relax and remove the external stimulation (a herd of cows mainly).

As that feeling hit me, I realised that I could hear the sound of music, jolly chat, instruments playing, people talking, singing perhaps? Where was it coming from? On the canvas of my mind’s eye I saw a throng of thirty or so people, all different ages, sexes and clothing, and they were walking up the far side of the rath’s embankment – the opposite side to that which I had come up. Then I saw more people coming in from other sides too. Some led cattle, others had instruments, some carried food and drink, some were just talking or singing gently.

I realised they were here for me. They were celebrating something to do with me.

Tuna and Tunes

A broad-shouldered finely dressed man in a light blue tunic and tights stepped forward from the group. In his hands he held the garland or wreath of dark green leaves that I had seen not an hour before during my battle at the Fort of the Bulls. He flicked his head to those around him, as though seeking their approval for what he was about to do. They all nodded, cheered and smiled in agreement, so the light-blue clothed man walked away from the throng towards me with a ceremonial swagger.

Feeling rather foolish because I was practically sitting on an offering of half a festering tuna sandwich I wondered if he would walk right past me, but he stopped just in front of me. Then he raised both hands, holding out the leaf crown, and he lifted it up onto my head. The crown gave a gentle ripple of applause and some light whooping to show that they agreed with this action, and then the light-blue man retreated to re-join the throng, whereupon all sorts of dancing, wheeling and jigging began.

I stood looking on in a curious mixture of astonishment and delight. This, for me? I felt unworthy, but completely at home with the people. I wondered who they were, but wondering broke the link I had, the silent deep thought link that had been forged between us, and now their merriment faded away quickly, and I realised I was simply sitting solitary and slightly uncomfortably on a clump of uneven grass in an earthwork in Ireland. The contrast was a little humbling, and I felt ridiculous again. How was I going to even tell Kal about this. It sounded like I was saying that I had been crowned a King or something. He was going to have a field day with this one! I braced myself for the guffaws and the leg-pulling as Kal’s head popped up over the edge of the ringfort’s outer edge.

Official information about Rath Mor

I decided to say nothing much until we were in the car. At least if I was driving I could stop and push him out if he got too boisterous about the whole affair. Actually, he was surprisingly understated about it afterwards. His only concern was how it would come across if I blogged it. I hadn’t thought of that. Should I leave the finale of the tale as being the end of the battle, I wondered? That didn’t feel very authentic. There was a genuine conclusion to the process, and to leave it off would be pointless. I would have to write it up, however people perceived it.

As we left the site I turned back to read the information sign again. It reads:

“Cruachan is traditionally said to be the inauguration place of the Kings of Connacht.”

In my own small way I too was now participating in such a ritual too, but for my altogether more personal and spiritual reasons. For me, I was being officially given the right and privilege to have, retain, defend and use the energies of my ancestors. I had undergone trials, tribulations, traditions and trepidation. I felt like I had the total right to be here at this time. I was ready for the coronation in this Jubilee year.

With this crowing moment the quest to recover my ancestor energies that had started many moons ago back where I live had ended in the heartland of my ancestral home.

Gwas.

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