I was born from a rose bush planted by Creiddylad – black, white and red. My black sister is dead and my white sister is gone.
I wanted to be kind but I could not escape my thorns.
I fled from this world and wrapped myself around the fortress of Annwn’s King.
I would not let Creiddylad in.
I wanted to be kind but I was cruel.
“It will always be winter here. He will always wear my crown. He will never return to gather the dead. We will sleep together amongst His treasures for ever.”
“I planted you, I nurtured you,” Creiddylad wept, her tears pouring down around my roots. “Each one of your petals I made from a tiny piece of my heart.”
“Then why am I so cruel?”
“Because there is cruelty hidden deep within my heart – that is why I practice kindness every day.”
“Then I can be kind too?”
“Yes.”
“Then what must I do?”
“Leave Annwn, leave my King, return to the world to be a sanctuary for another, who like you, has been cruel, but longs to learn to love, to be kind, to heal.”
So I unwrapped my trestles and I threw down my thorns and prostrated myself at Creiddylad’s feet in my first act of kindness promising there will be many more.
These two poems were written in response to the Mother House module on Sylvia Lindsteadt’s ‘When Women Were the Land‘ course for Advaya. Lindsteadt’s conception of the Mother House is rooted in Neolithic matrilineal and matrilocal cultures wherein husbands marry into the Mother House rather than women leaving and entering their husband’s house. She also notes the role of the Mother House in monastic traditions. Lindsteadt reads the Greek myth of the abduction of Persephone by Hades as one of Her being taken from Her mother, Demeter’s, house. When I returned to our northern British pre-Christian myth of Creiddylad’s abduction by Gwyn ap Nudd, which shares many parallels, the lines about Creiddylad being shut up in Her father’s house led me to suspect this may be a Mother House story too.
Taken From My Mother’s House
‘Creiddylad daughter of Lludd Llaw Eraint went off with Gwythyr son of Greidol, but before he could sleep with her Gwyn son of Nudd came to take her by force. Gwythyr son of Greidol gathered a host and Gwyn triumphed… Arthur heard of this and came to the North, and summoned Gwyn son of Nudd to him, and released his noblemen from his prison, and made peace between Gwyn son of Nudd and Gwythyr son of Greidol. This is the agreement that was made: the maiden was to be left in her father’s house, untouched by either party, and there was to be battle between Gwyn and Gwythyr every May Day forever from that day until Judgement Day, and the one that triumphed on Judgement Day would take the maiden.’ ~ Culhwch and Olwen
I was taken from my mother’s house then locked up in my father’s house
so the men like to tell the story. Let me tell you another tale. Of how I was not picking but making flowers, as I made love – styles, stigmas, anthers, stamens, parts that stick to each other and fit together perfectly.
So I chose to go off with Gwythyr son of Greidol and to go with my brother, Gwyn son of Nudd, to Annwn, to his land of bones to make flowers and love.
Messy the battle, the roses white and red, some say King Arthur ended it. They’re wrong – it was me – it was me and my flowers that brought peace.
And I still live here in my mother’s house with all my flowers and earthly greenery twining my head and limbs and choose to go with my otherworld husband when his hounds call and the trees beg to leave their leaves.
As for my father’s house deep in the sea there are no doors or locks.
As for Judgement Day there are no ends or beginnings in the endless love story between my mother’s house, this earth, or my brother’s house, deep Annwn.
Between the two pass the spirits of the mothers and the fathers, of the sisters and the brothers, no Arthurs are needed to broker the deals between.
Not Taken From My Mother House
They were taken from their mother house time and time again – surnames erased, Collison, Allen, Curtis…
But what were these names attached at the end as they married off and entered the houses of their husband’s fathers?
My surname has never fitted easily with me and neither has my mother’s received from a husband ab hominem.
Perhaps that’s why I have shrugged them off with my nunnery.
Whatever would my ancestors think if they knew I had married a God who did not take me away to the Otherworld but came instead to dwell here in my Mother House – here, on my altar, in this sanctuary, in my heart, in my blood?
Here in my mother house where I would keep the skulls of my mothers and their holy relics if I had them but instead we keep my great grandmother’s chest of drawers, cribbage board, gnarly old desk, cutlery…
I am building shrines to my mothers and hoping they will understand the changes –
why I married a God who will let our names and spirits flow into the Otherworld and back again more fluently than any river.
I stand here, now, in my Mother House, timeless, eternal, knowing I will not last forever or be erased.
Some stupid people also go stupidly to the door holding fire and iron in the hands when someone has inflicted illness, and call to the King of the Benevolent Ones and his Queen, who are evil spirits, saying: ‘Gwyn ap Nudd who are far in the forests for the love of your mate allow us to come home.’ ~ Speculum Christiani
Tracks of tanks in the snow. Avalanches falling from buildings. Is this the thrum of drones or tinnitus? An ever-present fear the next missile will hit the nuclear reactor.
I’m neither here nor there.
I’m in a woodland in Wales with the peasant folk calling out: ‘Gwyn ap Nudd who are far in the forests for the love of your mate allow us to return home.’
I’m wandering through the trees and the people are getting more sinister – fire and iron in their hands as they call on the King and Queen of the Benevolent Ones.
I’m walking with the soldiers brought here from Ukraine for just six weeks to train for frontline combat with fire and iron in their hands praying for strength to defend their home.
With my family I’m playing battleships as the Russian warships depart from Syria.
I’m hearing Donald Trump promising he will end the war between Ukraine and Russia by drilling a huge fucking hole.
Yet, still, I’m getting called up for war and I’m floating into the air reciting poetry before my mentor grabs my arm and drags me to her grandmother’s house safe in the Otherworld.
I say I’m not safe to work on the production lines at Samlesbury or Warton – to hold fire and iron in my hands, grenades, missiles…
instead I will take the hands of the soldiers as they return home. I will walk with them through the wildwood as I walked with Myrddin and the wildmen of Celyddon.
Together we will call upon Gwyn ap Nudd and Creiddylad. We will banish the belief that They are evil spirits. We will bring an end to this illness.
When I was re-reading and re-telling the story of the Chasing of Rhiannon, from the First Branch of The Mabinogion, one line that I hadn’t paid much attention to before stood out to me. When Pwyll tires of chasing Rhiannon, he calls out, “Maiden, for the sake of the man you love most, wait for me.”
It stood out because it reminded me of the invocation of Gwyn ap Nudd in the Speculum Christiani – ‘Gwyn ap Nudd who are far in the forests for the love of your mate allow us to return home.’
I saw a similarity between Rhiannon, a Queen of Annwn, being called out to for the sake of the man she loves and Gwyn, a King of Annwn, being petitioned for the love of His mate. This got me wondering whether this evidences a tradition of petitioning the Queen and King of Annwn for the love of Their consorts.
This is clearly the case in the fragment from the Speculum Christiani wherein Gwyn is petitioned for the love of His consort, Creiddylad, a Queen of Annwn.
It is less obviously so in the First Branch because the text suggests the man who Rhiannon loves is Pwyll. Rhiannon says: “I am Rhainnon, daughter of Hyfaidd Hen, and I am to be given to a husband against me will. But I have never wanted any man, because of my love for you. And I still do not want him, unless you reject me. And it is to find out your answer on the matter that I have come.”
Yet this seems strange as, to all appearances in the tale as it is told, Rhiannon has not met Pwyll before – so how could She love him? Reading between the lines, however, in the preceding episode, Pwyll took the place of Arawn, a King of Annwn, for a year and a day, leading His hunt, feasting at His feast and sleeping with His wife. Yet Pwyll did nothing but sleep with the Queen of Annwn, turning his back in bed. One wonders whether the unnamed queen was Rhiannon, re-appearing at Gorsedd Arberth to seduce Pwyll. If that was true, it would make sense that Pwyll was calling out to Rhiannon, for the sake of the man She loves, Her husband, Arawn, King of Annwn.
However, in the First Branch telling, Rhiannon does not present Herself as the wife of Arawn, but as the daughter of Hyfaidd Hen, who is forcing Her into an arranged marriage with Gwawl ap Clud. Her sovereignty has been removed and she is but a maiden being forced to marry a man against Her will.
This is suggestive to me of a Christian interlocutor purposefully removing the Queen Annwn’s status – a suggestion backed up by Her later calumniation – Her identity as a Horse Goddess is made a parody as She is forced to go on hands and knees bearing riders from the mounting block to the court of Arberth.
Similarly, in the episode of the battle of Gwyn and Gwyn Gwythyr, from Culhwch and Olwen, Creiddylad is also removed of Her sovereignty and shut in Her father’s house from where neither rival can take Her until the Day of Doom.
In Rhiannon: An Inquiry into the First and the Third Branches of the Mabinogi, W. J. Gruffydd argues that the conception of Pryderi by Rhiannon and Pwyll might originate from an older tale wherein Arawn in Pwyll’s form conceived Pryderi / Mabon – the Divine Son who gives His name to The Mabinogion.
If Gruffydd is correct this strengthens the argument that in the pre-Christian version Pwyll was speaking a petition to Rhiannon, Queen of Annwn. Thus, “For the sake of the man / woman you love,” and “for love of your mate,” might have been traditional ways of petitioning the King and Queen of Annwn.
When I founded the Monastery of Annwn just over two years ago I feared it would always be a rule of one. To my utter surprise for such a niche interest (Brythonic Polytheistic Monasticism centring on the Annuvian Gods) the monastery is thriving with a dozen members, most of whom participate regularly in group rituals, meditations and check-ins, or on our online forum. Several of us are living by vows and the Rule of the Heart.
Only a few months ago I thought it would be impossible to support myself as a nun of Annwn but I have received glimmers of hope with my soul guidance sessions off to a good start and my Patreon membership growing a little.
This month my spiritual mentor suggested instead of trying to logically plan my next steps ahead for the future we should open a space for dreaming. She challenged me to dream my biggest dream and set it down without thinking about the ‘real world’ limitations that might prevent it happening.
Immediately I knew this was to make the Monastery of Annwn a physical reality. I’d already had lots of flashes of inspiration so I set them down then journeyed to the Spirit of the Monastery to ask for guidance for the future.
Below is my dream Monastery of Annwn at this point in time. I see it as a centre for worship of the Gods and Goddesses of Annwn, a sanctuary for healing and retreat, and a place for learning about the Brythonic tradition from a polytheistic perspective. It combines above ground, underground, indoor and outdoor spaces.
My hope is that it would sustain itself by growing its own food and making money from healings, retreats, running workshops and courses on Brythonic myths and Deities and polytheistic monasticism and sales of inspired works from monastic devotees.
(1) The Monastery of Annwn – The central temple space containing shrines to the Gods and Goddesses of Annwn and space for worship and ecstatic dance. (2) The Chamber of the Heart – At its centre is the Altar of the Heart where monastic devotees can venerate the Heart of Annwn. There will always be a monastic devotee keeping the beat of the heart day and night. (3) Underground Caves – For communion a) Orddu’s Cave b) Cave of the Spirits of Annwn c) Cave of Bardic Incubation d) Cave of the Unknown. (4) Gwyn’s Tomb – This will be where Gwyn symbolically lies in His tomb during the summer and monastic devotees will be able to visit and spend time in silence with Him. In winter the coffin will be removed and this will be a space of initiation involving death and rebirth prior to taking vows. (5) The Hearth of Annwn – A space where monastic devotees gather. (6) Huts of the Monastic Devotees – There are three circles. The first two circles are hut for monastics who have made lifelong vows. On top of each hut is a representation of one of their tutelary spirits. The third circle is for novices and for those who are in the process of discernment.* (7) Crazy Owl’s Library – A library containing books on Brythonic lore and monastic and mystery traditons along with mythology from around the world. (8) Gwyn’s Feasting Hall – Here meals are served. (9) Ceridwen’s Kitchen – Here nutritious food made with local ingredients is cooked. (10) Gwyn’s Guest House – A bunkhouse for guests. (11) Awen Arts – An arts centre with an art gallery and performance space for poetry, singing and music and spaces for crafts and crafting. It will also contain a shop selling inspired works by monastic devotees. (12) The Training Hall of Gwyn and Gwythyr – A hall for training in martial arts and other kinds of movement including dance and yoga. (13) Giant’s Gym – For strength training and rehabilitation. (14) The Healing Fountains of Anrhuna – A complex of healing waters including fountains, spas and pools and a shower house and baths for daily use. (15) Healing Huts – Huts for shamanic healing and various therapies. (16) The Dream Temple of Nodens – A temple for Nodens with underground dream incubation chambers and healing hounds. (17) Creiddylad’s Garden – Here vegetables, salad, herbs and fruit are grown. (18) Gwyn’s Wildwood – A woodland space for meditation, communion and celebration. (19) The Blessed One’s Burial Ground – A natural burial ground for monastic devotees whose graves will be marked with small cairns. Potentially this might be expanded to provide space for others who support our aims. (20) Ceridwen’s Compost Toilets – Four sets spaced around the monastery. (21) Ceridwen’s Compost Heap – For recycling all waste from the garden and feasting hall.
Potentially, off scene, there will be ‘herds of Annwn’ – pigs and cattle for meat and milk and horses for horse riding and equine therapy.
*
Daily Routine
Communal worship will take place in the monastery mornings and evenings. Rather than breaking up the day with regular communal prayers like the Benedictines** prayer will be integrated into daily activities. Each will open with prayers of praise and petition and end with prayers of thanksgiving. For example, prayers to Creiddylad for gardening, prayers to Gwyn and Gwythyr for martial arts, prayers to Anrhuna for healing work. Meals will be preceded by prayers of thanksgiving to the spirits of the land.
Additional rituals will take place for Holy Days and on the dark, new and full moons.
Week Days
5am Communal worship in the monastery – morning prayers and songs for Gwyn ap Nudd and His family, the Spirit of the Monastery, the spirits of place and ancestors.
5.30am Communal silence in the monastery (the only thing that will be heard is the beat of the Heart of Annwn).
6am Breakfast.
6.30am Communal practice in the monastery – Readings from Brythonic texts followed by meditation and contemplation or a shamanic journey.
7.30am Study in small groups in the library – Brythonic texts and Lectio Divina.
8.30am Exercise – Run, walk, strength training, martial arts, gentle movement (ie. yoga or chair yoga).
9.30am Shower and snack.
10am Study and practice in small groups – Brythonic lore, meditation, journeywork, spiritwork, divination, plant and tree spirit medicine, shamanic healing.
12 noon – Lunch.
12.30pm Devotional creativity or healing work.
2.30pm Manual labour – cleaning, laundry, groundskeeping, gardening.
5pm Baths.
5.30pm Tea.
6pm Free time for private prayer and study and group discussions.
8pm Communal worship in the monastery – evening prayers and songs for Gwyn ap Nudd and His family, the Spirit of the Monastery, the spirits of place and ancestors.
8.30pm Retire for evening prayers to Nodens as God of Dreams.
9pm Bed.
Saturday
5am Communal worship in the monastery – morning prayers and songs for Gwyn ap Nudd and His family, the Spirit of the Monastery, the spirits of place and ancestors.
5.30am Communal silence in the monastery (the only thing that will be heard is the beat of the Heart of Annwn).
6am Breakfast.
6.30am Communal practice in the monastery – Readings from Brythonic texts followed by longer meditation and contemplation or shamanic journey.
9am – Snack.
9.30am – Ecstatic dance.
11.30am – Shower.
12 noon – Lunch.
12.30 – Free time in which some individuals and groups may choose to spend time in the woods or gardens or go for a longer walk in the local area.
5pm Baths.
5.30pm Tea.
6pm Free time for private prayer and study and group discussions.
8pm Communal worship in the monastery – evening prayers and songs for Gwyn ap Nudd and His family, the Spirit of the Monastery, the spirits of place and ancestors.
8.30pm Retire for evening prayers to Nodens as God of Dreams.
9pm Bed.
Sunday
5am Communal worship in the monastery – morning prayers and songs for Gwyn ap Nudd and His family, the Spirit of the Monastery, the spirits of place and ancestors.
5.30am Communal silence in the monastery (the only thing that will be heard is the beat of the Heart of Annwn).
6am Breakfast.
6.30am Communal practice in the monastery – Readings from Brythonic texts followed by longer meditation and contemplation or shamanic journey.
9am – Snack.
9.30am – Personal spiritual development.
12 noon – Lunch.
12.30 – Pilgrimage walk involving prayers and offerings to local spirits.
4pm – Community gathering for sharing news and developments.
5pm Baths.
5.30pm Tea.
6pm Free time for private prayer and study and group discussions.
8pm Communal worship in the monastery – evening prayers and songs for Gwyn ap Nudd and His family, the Spirit of the Monastery, the spirits of place and ancestors.
8.30pm Retire for evening prayers to Nodens as God of Dreams.
9pm Bed.
*The Huts of the Monastic Devotees were inspired by Danica Swanson’s ideas around a ‘cottage cluster monastery’ and the bee hive huts of monastics associated with the south-western Irish seaboard. **Matins / vigils (nighttime), lauds (early morning), prime (first hour of daylight), terce (third hour), sext (noon), nones (ninth hour), vespers (sunset), compline (end of the day).
If you would like to see the Monastery of Annwn become a physical reality please like or comment.
Over the past few years the Heart of Annwn has become increasingly important in the mythos Gwyn has gifted me and in my devotional practices.
For me, the Heart of Annwn is Gwyn’s heart, inherited from His mother, Anrhuna, Mother of Annwn, and also the ever-beating heart of Annwn itself.
I believe that, like Hades and Hades, Hel and Hel, are both Deities and Otherworlds, Gwyn, who is associated with Gwynfyd is one with His land as well.
The Heart of Annwn literally became the heart of my practice two years ago when I began playing its beat and chanting to align myself with Gwyn’s heartbeat. This led to the formulation of the Rule of the Heart within the Monastery of Annwn – following our hearts in alignment with the Heart of Annwn.
In this post I will be sharing two of the core stories of the Heart of Annwn.
*
The Heart of the Dragon Mother
Gwyn has shown me that the Heart of Annwn once beat in the chest of His mother, Anrhuna, the Mother of Annwn, when She was a nine-headed dragon. When She was slain Vindos / Gwyn ate Her heart. The Heart of Annwn became His and this gave Him sovereignty over Annwn as King.
“Now,” the ghost of Anrhuna turned to her corpse, “there is a rite amongst the dragons of Annwn – as you are the only one of my children left here you must eat my heart.”
The boy swallowed nervously as with a single bite of her ghost jaws she tore it from her chest and offered it to him, big and bloody, large and slippery, uncannily still beating. “My heart is the Heart of Annwn. If you succeed in eating it all, its power will be yours and you will be king.”
“But it is so much bigger than I and I have little appetite.”
“Little bite by little bite and you will be king.”
The boy very much wanted to be king. He needed his kingship within him. He bared his teeth and bit in, took one bite, then another. As he ate, he grew. He became a mighty wolf, a raging bull, a bull-horned man, a horned serpent, finally, a black dragon. As he tore and devoured the last pieces of the heart he spread his wings to fill the darkest reaches of the Deep. He roared, “I am King of Annwn! I will rule the dead! I will build my kingdom from the bones of dead dragons and the light of dead stars! I will bring joy to every serpent who has known sorrow and I will take vengeance on my enemies!”
Weary and full he slept and when he awoke he was just a boy with a large heart that felt too big for his body.
*
The Hidden Heart
In another story, in which Arthur raids Annwn, killing the King of Annwn and stealing His cauldron, Gwyn instructs His beloved, Creiddylad, to cut His heart from His chest and help hide it so that Arthur cannot take the Heart of Annwn.
Gwyn gave Creiddylad a Knife. “Cut my heart from my chest. Give it to my winged messengers and tell them to hide it in a place that even I could never find It.”
“Do what?”
“I will not die.”
“Worse – you will be heartless.”
One of my practices around this story was receiving the honour of finding Gwyn’s heart and returning it to Him and helping Him to return to life.
‘I knew it was a death unlike any other but still I heard the beating of your heart…
Your hounds dug wildly beneath trees, bloodying their frantic paws to find only the hearts of dead badgers,
sniffed suspiciously at the edge of pools where I searched through reeds as if looking for a baby in the bulrushes, plunged in and emerged draped in duck-weed.
We snatched a still-beating heart from a bear’s claws (not yours).
We searched every cave for a heart-shaped box. When we found one and the keys to the lock inside was only a locket and a love letter in an illegible hand.
When we had searched everywhere in Annwn we rode across Thisworld following your fading heart beat.
We found your heart in the unlikeliest of places.
Clutching it tightly, fearing every time it skipped a beat, we galloped back to Annwn with our hearts beating just as wildly.
Through the fortresses within fortresses…
Into your empty chest we placed your still-beating heart.’
*
Gwyn has revealed a lot about the Heart of Annwn and I believe there is more to come. Recently I had a vision of Gwyn as a black dragon with His heart visible in His chest bearing an important message. He appears in this form when He brings tidings for the future. What will be the future of the Heart of Annwn? What stories from the past remain to be disclosed? I share what I know with gratitude and await further revealings.
the mountains would stop talking to each other, the hills would lose their nerve and flee, the rivers would stop rushing down, turn their tides to the source, vanish back to Annwn,
and the sea, oh the vast sea! The mournful waves would lose their songs, the sea-horses their nostrils of foam and proud crests. Water would be water no longer and salt would not be salt. There would be nothing to quench our thirst or cleanse our wounds.
With the marching trees we would be rootless vagabonds for the snakes beneath our houses and the serpents beneath our towerblocks would shake the foundations tear them down.
The animals would run away through the caves and cracks in the earth and all the fish would disappear into the Lune Deep and the birds would fly away on the winds before the sky did his thing of crashing down like a fallen bird or a fallen wrestler.
If Your heart ceased to beat oh Gatherer of Souls, would our hearts too not cease to beat? Then who would gather us?
Oh lonely lonely souls!
Grateful are we that on the moment of Your death Your heart skips but one beat then continues to beat in Your sleep and in Your dreams.
*A poem for Gwyn ap Nudd on Calan Mai when He loses His battle for Creiddylad to Gwythyr and ‘dies’ and retreats to Annwn to sleep for the summer.
This morning when I made my traditional offering of a sprig of thyme to my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd, at dawn before He goes to fight His battle against Gwythyr ap Grendel for Creiddylad (a battle He, as Winter King, is doomed to lose to the Summer King) He appeared to me as a magnificent bull of battle and spoke the words:
“I go to fight for all those who fight a battle they cannot win.”
Go well, my beloved Lord of Annwn, I will be waiting for You at summer’s end.
Creiddylad arrives brings the morning. She is here, She is here, She is here.
Creiddylad arrives brings the birdsong. She is here, She is here, She is here.
Creiddylad arrives brings the flowers. She is here, She is here, She is here.
A monastic chant for Creiddylad, a Brythonic Goddess of flowers and fertility, as Her presence is felt in the land again with Her arrival heralding the coming of spring.
The Sanctuary of Vindos 