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In the quiet times between dawn and dusk, I have heard a stirring deep within the earth. It is a rumble that feels like when you step on a loose stone, or the thump of a drum being played by a Shaman in the distance. The sound and feeling belongs to the Dagda. With the sound in my ears and the feeling in my body, I have found the reason for my dedication to him. My dedication to the Dagda is not one of my blind faith or fleeting wonder, but from an abiding sense that he embodies the fullness of what it means to live well and wisely. He is the All-Father. A god of might. A god of mirth. Of craft and chaos. Of good food and friends. A god of fierce defense of those he loves. He is also a god of balance, abundance, and responsibility. A lot of portfolios that also coincide with the druid traits. In the Dagda, I also see a guardian who labors with the land - not against it. He carries his great club, not only to strike down his enemies, but to also restore life. He is the King of the Druids who tends a cauldron of plenty. He reminds me that to provide for others is sacred work. He teaches that fun and work are not at odds with each other. He shows me that wisdom is not only found but tomes, but also in music, love, and others. May he guide my hand, steady my spirit, and fill my path with a fullness of being. | |