Читать книгу 366 Celt: A Year and A Day of Celtic Wisdom and Lore - Carl McColman - Страница 32

For many people, Celtic nature spirituality is mostly a romanticized kind of thing. We can travel to Tintagel or Glendalough or Iona and be enraptured by the many faces of the goddess—lush or austere, majestic or severe. We can find peace by a holy well or ponder the mysteries in a ring of standing stones. Our imaginations can be beguiled by stories of the fairy folk—never mind the ominous or dangerous edge to the fairy faith; we’ll just enjoy the idea of spirits inhabiting our gardens. It’s all lovely, poetic, and beautiful. But does it really make a difference in our lives? How does Celtic nature spirituality matter?

The question is a subtle pun. For “matter” comes from the same Latin root as does “matrix” (womb) and “mother.” To make something matter—anything, not just nature mysticism—means to imbue it with relationship, meaning, purpose, as symbolized by the most primal and powerful of all relationships, that between mother and child. Catholic Ireland is full of imagery of the madonna and child, but this is far more than just religious artwork. It’s truly an icon of the most profound relationship of all, that between the earth and her children. So how do we find, in our sentimental love for the glorious beauty of nature, a genuine relationship between humanity and the environment? As we answer that question, we will be taking an important step toward making the Celtic tradition come alive in our midst.