…but devotion never stops.
This is just a quick post to say that there is more to come – if anybody is still reading.
My blogging here has slowed to a trickle, though I have still been writing; just not uploading. First my computer broke, then the update that fixed it wiped all the saved files, which are now (thankfully!) slowly being recovered. In between losing and regaining my computer, and falling behind and catching up with studies, I have also adopted a needy, adorable dog, and a lot of my ‘writing’ time recently has actually been spent on the sofa, snuggling with him. It is profoundly healing. And, anyway, there seems to have been a strong link between Celtic water deities and dogs, so this could be seen as ‘research’…
Tiny Totoro – aka Cunomaglus?
But after this long fallow period, I have managed to write a good few posts, and will publish them all as soon as I can (if my inner perfectionist ever stops tweaking…). On an evening like this, though, who would spend their time indoors in front of a computer, with such a beautiful coastline just a bike ride away? The posts will be uploaded soon. In the meantime, enjoy the blue moon :)
2. How did you become first aware of this deity?
Growing up in Dyfed, learning the stories of the Mabinogi at school, I must have been aware of Manawydan as a character from a very young age. I remember drawing him in primary school, walking across an outstretched Bendigeidfran to illustrate the proverb ‘a fo ben bid bont’ (let he who would be a leader be a bridge, in Bendigeidfran’s famous words). But this early introduction to the figure in the stories was not the same thing as an awareness of the deity.
It was an Alexandrian coven in Brighton, a few years ago, which prompted me to reconnect with the old tales and read them again from a pagan perspective. Around this same time, I developed my habit of walking the shore, especially at dusk. I started writing about the sea, to overcome a block in my creativity. I wrote about the dreams I used to have, in moments of my life when I felt lost, of waves rising up to engulf me, drawing me back… By the time I moved to Liverpool, all of this was gradually coalescing into a relationship – though with whom, or what, I did not dare to say.
I began to acknowledge the devotional relationship and, privately, to name it, two years ago; perhaps this marks the transition to awareness of the deity. But this kind of awareness is not an absolute state – better to say it is an ongoing process, and I know it will keep evolving, shifting, changing for as long as I pursue it. Therein lies its magic.