We have just heard the first part of the Storyteller’s new tale, “The Wooing of Etain”. She has left us alone to reflect on the story as it ha unfolded thus far, to see how it might relate to our own lives.

The ancient times of Ireland, the seldom seen Faery people, children of the Goddess Danu, their dwelling places under the mounds, the power of magic that both creates and destroys… these elements of the story may seem very far removed from our lives.

Yet the Storyteller chose this tale because it speaks of desire and longing. Midir had so long yearned for Etain that when his foster son offered compensation for an injury, Midir knew at once his heart’s deepest desire.

This is the first thing I learned from the Storyteller: to know and to trust the deepest longings of my heart. This was not easy for me. Like most women, I had been taught to consider the desires of others, but not my own. I had been taught to distrust desire, to fear my own body where desire dwells.

Yet, in my time with the Storyteller, I have come to reverence desire as the opening to the sacred. I have learned to distinguish a surface desire that may be only a fill-in for what I truly want from the deeper longing which is the desire of
the Holy in and for me.
And what of you? What are the deepest longings of your heart? If someone were to offer you as compensation what you most desire, would you know at once, as Midir did, what to ask for?
Julian of Norwich, that great 14th century English mystic and teacher of wisdom,
tells us what God taught her:

I am the ground of your prayers.
First, it is my will that you have what you desire.
Later, I cause you to want it.
Later on, I cause you to pray for it and you do so.
How then can you not have what you desire? 

In my time with the Storyteller, I have come to understand that allurement is at the heart of the universe. The great physicists who have been called the mystics of our time, tell us that the whole universe is drawn by allurement: the moon is allured to the earth, held in its orbit; the ocean tides are drawn by the moon; the earth and the planets of our solar system are held in allurement as they move around the sun, even as the immense universe spins in wonder, in a great dance of desire and longing.

In the tale of Midir and Etain, we see that our desires are fulfilled at a cost: the great labours that Angus undertook to gain Etain for Midir, the price paid for her in gold and silver.

But what of Etain? Her desire was awakened by a long look, for the Story tells that “Etain looked into Midir’s eyes and that night she became his bride”. Her longing for Midir is satisfied for their wedding follows that very night.

Though this story is new to me, I have heard enough stories to know that this joy may not last very long…

The Storyteller is with us now and continues her tale:

Midir and Etain stayed together in the Brugh with Angus for a year and a day, sporting and playing chess for precious stones, drinking the choice wines and listening to the music of Angus’ three half-brothers, the sons of Boann, his mother, who were called “the Fair and Melodious Three”. Their names were Goltraiges, Gentraiges and Suantraiges, and the harps on which they played were of gold, and silver, and white bronze, with figures of serpents and birds and hounds wrought upon them. When Goltraiges played the Music of Weeping, twelve warriors of the household died of sadness, but when Gentraiges played the Music of Smiling, the Brugh was full of gladness and laughter, and when Suantraiges played the Music of Sleeping, there were gentleness and peace in the House, and in all Ireland the women whose time was upon them gave easy birth, and no animal was fierce in all the land. And so the days and the nights of the year passed, and sweet was the intimacy of Midir and Etain, and fond their espousal.

When the time came for them to return to Bri Leith, Angus, embracing them, said to Midir: “Take care, Midir, of Etain, for your wife awaits you at Bri Leith, and Fuamnach is a dreadful and a cunning woman.”

The warning of Angus was timely, for when the lovers returned, Fuamnach came out to meet them. With cleverness, she put them at their ease. She talked to Midir of his House and household, of his lands and herds, and of his people, but later, when Etain was in her chamber alone, combing her hair and waiting for Midir, Fuamnach came to her and struck her, as she sat, with a rod of scarlet quicken-tree. Etain, on the instant, became a shining pool of water in the centre of the room.

In triumph, Fuamnach went to Midir and told him what she had done, and moreover, swore that she would harm Etain for as long as she lived, and in whatever form she might be. Then she left Bri Leith and returned to the House of her foster-father, the wizard Bresal . Midir, without solace, and lonely, left his House to wander over the far lands of his kingdom.

Meanwhile the crystal pool that was Etain dried, rolled itself together and became a small worm, and because Etain was lovely and full of joy, the worm turned into a beautiful purple fly, of wondrous size.
“(S)weeter than pipes and horns was the sound of her voice, and the hum of her wings. Her eyes would shine like precious stones in the darkness, and the fragrance and bloom of her would turn away hunger and thirst from anyone around whom she would go, and the spray that fell from her wings would cure all sickness.”

She longed for Midir, and when she had tried her wings and gathered strength, she flew to the far reaches of Bri Leith, and when she came to him, Midir knew that the lovely purple fly was Etain. Everywhere he went, she attended him, and while she was there he took no other woman, and the sight of her nourished him, and the sweet sound of her humming would send him to sleep, and Midir would neither eat nor drink, nor dance, nor play the chess game, nor hear any other music, if he could not hear the music of her voice, and the sound of her wings, and he could not see her and smell the fragrance of her.

(to be continued….)