Brigid.

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BRIDE, BRIDEY,
BRIGANTIA, BRIGANDU, BRIGGIDDA,
BRIG, BRIGHID, BRIGIT,
BRIDGE, BRIGITTE, BRIDGET,
BREO SAIGHEAD, and many more.

 
Brigid, whether Goddess or Saint is known across Ireland, the British Isle and much of Western Europe as “The Exalted One”.
An ancient Goddess, so ingrained in the hearts and souls of the people that the Catholic Church made her a saint. She is beloved as both. In my life she was always present from a distance, exerting only one influence. It is an aspect usually mentioned as a footnote.
Amongst her many attributes, she is the Goddess of smith craft. Perhaps it is because so many like the the warmth of her spring return, or her promise of new life, or the patroness she offers to poets and writers that keeps this aspect almost forgotten. I suspect we are weary of war and anything to do with it. Yet, to not know this, misses so much of her essence.

 
A fiery, shining Goddess and Saint that has numerous sacred wells dedicated to her would be odd without understanding the essential role of smith craft. She has been tempering me since birth. This is not a girlfriend, but a serious Goddess working from the pit of a dirty, sweaty forge. She has watched and tended the fires of my life changes and difficulties. Then hammered my insecurities and uncertainties , honing the new skills I attain to unfold my resilience. At the end I am lowered into waters of life that determine of what real strength I am made. We do this jointly at precision temperatures and time. Or, I, like the physical act of sword making would shatter, or become too soft with useless dullness taking over. The sword of my being is returned to cut through the dross, leaving only the essentials I need, use and love. Shields emerge to defend time and core essence, protecting myself and those I love from the unnecessary noises of life that would drain life loves, passions, accepted commitments and the ever changing wheel of life’s surprise losses and fortunes.

 

This is her annual visit. Surprisingly, I have found her within me this year. Though, I expect She will give way to the two Goddess’s who chose me. She will watch from a distance until my life will be baptized by her fire and water once more.

__Bridget Robertson

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