Who are the Tuatha De Danaan?

September 24, 2016July 19, 2024 / Ann Murphy / Leave a comment

The Tuatha De Danaan are a race of people traditionally known as the faery folk of Ireland. They are said to reside in burial mounds and long barrows, and deep under the earth; places which are both physical and liminal. The stories tell us that they came from islands north of Ireland and that when they came, they brought their skills and arts with them, including a belief in the Great Mother. They also brought a magical tool from each of the four great cities they had left behind and when they arrived on Ireland’s shores, they burned their boats ensuring there was no possibility of return to their own country. (see info below about Dorset Cursus).

When I first began to receive the Gaia Method Earthways system of healing my first elemental contact, after my tree experience, was with elemental Beings who called themselves the Tuatha De Danann. They appeared as very tall, slim beings who were fairylike but also human with pale skin and long hair. I think the best representation of them is in the art of Brian Froud.

At first, they watched me from a distance, staying behind trees and appearing out of the woods only to pop back in again when I tried to communicate with them. It was as if they were trying to determine whether I could be trusted, or not. Soon, however, I was assigned a guide from these beings, another gatekeeper, who gave me access into the world of the Elemental Beings, or Sidhe (pronounced shee).

The more I interacted with these beings, the more I learned. They live in a world of nature and yet our human history tells us that they were once human. My own understanding is that they were a race of beings who came to Ireland with their beliefs in the Great Mother. But with the coming of other races, namely the Celtic peoples from the Steppes, with their horses, iron weapons and warlike ways, the ways and beliefs of the people of the Goddess went ‘underground’, to preserve the knowledge of the earth and its energy grids.

Today we know them as the Sidhe. The old stories of how the Irish ‘fairy folk’ can not abide the dense vibration of Iron attests to this possibility. It is well known among the Irish that iron can kill a fairy being. The Celtic peoples brought iron-working with them, and a vastly different belief system, so for me, this story makes sense. The knowledge of Iron-working did indeed kill the softer beliefs of the Bronze Age inhabitants of Ireland and of the British Isles.

Yet, as collective energies, they still exist on other dimensional levels, at least their collective wisdom still exists. They, as the Sidhe, now choose to assist humanity, training them to use the land and its magic and to expand into other realms. They became the stuff of legend and myth, but their energies remain in the collective unconscious.

Slowly they gave me information about who they had once been.

One early piece of information was whilst working at the Dorset Cursus, an ancient Neolithic route that stretches for miles across the Dorset landscape. At one end of the cursus, there is a mound and when I stood on this mound, it felt like I was standing on an upturned boat. Then I began to receive images of people coming to Britain to escape a flood that had destroyed their homelands, thousands of years ago.

Travelling in boats, these people took their belief in the Great Mother with them, establishing an entire network of Mother-focussed settlements. I hear the ancestors clairaudiently and this is what they said: “We built them to stabilise the imbalance which had resulted from the catastrophe that caused the flooding.” As soon as I got home, I tried to find information about this flooding. It felt like it had happened somewhere in the Mediterranean. Seven thousand years ago, the Mediterranean did indeed flood. Before it was a sea it was a river delta but the melting of the ice, at the end of the ice age, broke through the land barrier between Spain and Africa creating the sea.

It had taken them time to come to England’s shores. It too was recovering after the retreating of the ice, and only hunter-gatherers, Mesolithic people, lived here, close to the sea’s edge. But these newcomers established their colonies, and their beliefs, using their knowledge to re-establish planetary balance. It took many years for the land to become workable and, thanks to their energetic assistance, England became fertile enough for the farmers to grow crops and keep animals, rather than existing off the produce of the sea, as the Mesolithic people had done.

They built Megalithic structures, just as they had around the Mediterranean; energetic complexes like giant Motherboards created on and in the landscape; a Motherboard that still exists and which we are now rediscovering.

When I was researching this event and the megalithic culture, I discovered that the people who built these structures carried the I2 haplogroup in their DNA and that they had displaced the earlier inhabitants who had a different genetic inheritance. This came as a surprise to me because the I2 haplogroup is also mine. But then I thought, perhaps that is why I can tap into this knowledge. Because they really are my ancestors. They could also be yours.

Bronze Age Round Barrow, Micheldever Woods, Winchester.

Later, that I2 haplogroup was displaced by another people of a different haplogroup: the Beaker People. Although genetic history has come to the conclusion that the beaker people ousted the megalithic builders, in my experience they also worked with the energetic network in the landscape, albeit in a slightly different way. Their beliefs were still Mother-focussed. For instance, they built burial mounds in many shapes and sizes; the person buried there becoming the guardian of that energy point. In Ireland, these places are still thought of today as places of the Sidhe (Shee). The portals, however, are in the older megalithic structures like Newgrange, Knowth and Stonehenge and the many henges around the British Isles. These remain portals into the Mother’s world, places where the forces of solar fertility meet the seed of the Mother’s creations.

In every culture, there are the Ancient Ones, the memories and knowledge held by the people who first worked with it. In Ireland, and the United Kingdom, the Tuatha De Danaan are the Wisdom Keepers, and you can access their knowledge by working with their ‘layer’ of history. It is a form of energetic archaeology.

The awareness of the earth as Mother existed for many years but with the coming of the more war-like ‘Celtic’ peoples from the Steppes, the beliefs were eroded and went underground, back into the mounds and sacred places The ‘knowledge’ of the Goddess people had to become secret, or at least less visible, to protect it. It was encoded in the myths, and stories they told each other preserving, in art and writing, the knowledge of how to keep the earth in balance.

Over time, the knowledge contained in the stories was lost, but now it is returning. All the stories and myths have a truth hidden in them, if you look hard enough. New stories are also being written; stories that hold the codes and keys to the knowledge of the ancestors and the Tuatha de Danann, the People of The Goddess. Many are remembering.

The world needs rebalancing once again which is why this knowledge is returning. Many people with ancestry in the British Isles and Ireland have this memory in their cells. It only needs reactivating to access it. Your guides are only too willing for you to ask them, and you will receive the knowledge if you really want it. It is the sincere desire to know something that opens the door to receiving.

Film of the round barrow in Micheldever Woods by Chris Bishop.

Changes 2 June 2015. Channelling.

June 2, 2015June 2, 2015 / Ann Murphy / Leave a comment

I received this having felt an extremely sad heaviness in my heart and my Hara/ centre. I ‘felt’ the knowledge that all was about to change, to ‘return back’ and that life, as we know it, would never be the same again. I felt overwhelmingly sad and then these words came.

“A million years ago the world stood on the brink of ‘knowingness’. It ‘knew’ that its destiny was changing, that all it ever knew was coming to an end. Its populations, nomadic travellers and settlers, also knew, because they were attuned to the cycles of nature in a way which modern man is not. He knew, for instance, that life was a continuing cycle, and that death was only a transition from one sort of life to another. He was not afraid of death. His only fear was that of starvation, because he also knew that nature was a fickle mother. But he learned to live within her boundaries, and to grow within her belly. He knew, that in order to survive, that he had to do this. There would be no point in resisting her ways. The rules could be bent, but never broken.

Modern man, on the other hand, is on a collision course with the forces of nature. He believes that his way is the right way, until Mother Nature shows him something different. Then, when she does, he feels like a victim. But he is not a victim, he is a casualty. He exists on Earth as a guest, a guest of honour, and guests do not betray their generous hosts. To betray a host means to not be invited again. The boundaries of nature are sure and strong.

In order to survive the coming times you too have to learn to live within the boundaries of nature. It is not enough to pay lip service to her, pretending to live a natural life, while living amidst the rubble and rubbish of modern life. That does not work here. Living in the bosom of the Mother means to live within her boundaries, caring for what she gives, wasting nothing, respecting her gifts, her generosity. If someone gives you a gift and you throw it way, why would they give you another? Yet Earth keeps on giving and you, as humans, keep on throwing it away.

Now it is time to learn a new way. A life of extreme luxury and wastefulness is not a life, it is a waste of life, and a waste of the abundance which Mother Nature has gifted you.

Be prepared for change, where all of your abundance will come with the proviso that you change your ways. The gifts are being revoked and your lives becoming a little less free. All that is good will remain, but all that is wasteful will be returned to the Mother. That is the way.”

I googled for information on what might have happened on the earth 1.000.000 years ago: http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/early-human-population-size-genetic-diversity/

So what does that imply? Whatever it does imply it might be a good idea if we learned how to grow our own food! …and I still can’t shake this overwhelming pain in my heart and stomach!!

The Sword in Energywork.

February 24, 2014August 2, 2024 / Ann Murphy / Leave a comment

When you receive your first Gaia Method attunement you usually, but not always, receive the energy of a Sword. Like all of the symbols/energies of this system the sword has differing levels of use, from the basic level of more-male focussed thinking to its use as an etheric acupuncture needle while working in the landscape.

As an attunement energy, it is called The Sword of Arthur. It is a directed, male energy which allows you cut to the truth of matters. This is the energetic sword of Western Europe, wherever the King Arthur stories are heard. In Egypt it is a different frequency and is called the Sword of Osiris. Each country or region, which has its own mythology.

As an earth-working tool it is an acupuncture needle, opening, or closing vortices in the landscape. My first experience of working with the sword as an ‘opener’ came when I was visiting Beaulieu Abbey with Chris Bishop in 2005. Usually we just walk until we feel the energy-place we need to work with, so we wandered around until I felt the energy of a vortex. It was about 40 feet in diameter and seemed to come from a small outbuilding of the original monastery, rather than from the main church, as I would have expected. This building was L-shaped and had been used as a wine-press and then a place to store sheep’s wool. (L-shaped building top right of ground plan pic).

I walked to where the centre of this vortex lay and stood on it. Beneath my feet I was suddenly aware of a sword, embedded up to the hilt, in the centre of the vortex. My guides explained that this was the original meaning of the Sword in the stone which Arthur had pulled out and which proclaimed him to the once and future king.

The mysteries were really a story about the Planetary healing being carried out at the time, in Britain, when the country and its people were experiencing huge changes. The stories were a way of keeping the knowledge alive. Arthur, who was wedded to the Goddess Sovereignty (The Earth) had to be as healed and whole as possible. His masculine energy, in its whole sense influenced hte fertility of the land. Those who held the sword energy in their auric field had the ability to open and close the energetic gateways in the landscape. As the energy was allowed to flow unimpeded, the result was balance and fertility. Peace reigned, once the darkness in the land was released and healed, and balance was maniteined by those initiates who had attained a certain amount of self-knowledge and who could ‘wield’ the sword. Wielding the sword meant they listened to their guidance, travelled the country and trusted. They worked independently, and for the good of humanity. They had enough control over their thoughts, and emotions, and had devoted their lives to bringing healing and balance to the land. They were ‘servers’ of the Goddess…the landscape…the Mother.

Back at the vortex, my guides instructed me to pull out the sword, and as I did, the vortex energies began to spin faster, expanding out over a wider area. I was told that when a vortex/gate needs to be ‘quietened down’ for any reason, such as when the site is about to be taken over by forces that would use the energy for a negative purpose, then the sword is used to slow the spin, or close it completely. This decision would not have been taken lightly.

Energy gates/vortices keep the energies of the landscape flowing, and usually caretakers live nearby in order to maintain the site’s energetic status. Abundance flows through these sites, which is why, in the past, places such as these were able to generate such great wealth from the landscape. They worked within nature’s laws and so reaped the harvest. When a site is in danger of being used by people who would takethat harvest for their own greed, a decision is made to either close a gate completely or to slow it down so that the energies cannot be used for personal gain. The men who take the wealth of these sites do not think of it in terms of energy. All they see is the wealth generated and they want that wealth for themselves. But for those who work within the Mother’s energy field it can be a heart-breaking decision to close a gate. They know what will happen when the gates are closed and how that will effect everyone who was otherwise nurtured by its energies.

You only have to look at a sacred building to know its energetic status. If it is in ruins, then its energy is not flowing. If it is still standing, and still used, then the energies are still flowing. Once a gate way is closed then, slowly, the land begins to suffer and so do the people. The ‘light’, effectively, goes out.

There are gates on the ground level, beneath the earth, in caves etc. and in upper levels, on mountains and hills. There are also vortices in lakes and pools of water. There are gates in the energy layers above the earth and the sword is used for all of these.

One piece of information which we picked up in Beaulieu was that there was a connection between Corfe castle and Beaulieu. Corfe castle has gateways on two different levels, which were also closed before it was taken by Cromwell’s forces. The same thing happened to Beaulieu. All of these sites worked together and those who were their caretakers kept the lines flowing between one site and another. They worked together for the benefit of the Mother, her people, and the Source.

This vortex work has been done for thousands of years, even since before our ‘humanity ‘has been incarnating on earth. I have worked with vortices which were millions of years old but the energy is still the same. Our ancient myths and archetypes tell us everything we need to know about the earth.

The more you work with gates/vortices the more they will appear as Lotus’s or roses, or other symbolic energies. They can often also simply be senses as vortices, depending on the energy. You might see them differently. Each ‘flower’ has its own significance. Lotus sites are like minor ‘chakra’ points and magenta roses are connected to the Mother layer, above sea level, and are usually much larger points. The Rose sites are also connected to the ground level and connect to the level above, to the magenta level of the Earth’s energy field. Remembering that these layers are connected to the Divine Mother’s planetary body. If you anchor a rose site, you will know it is a channel for that magenta layer, a channel which allows the Mother’s love to flow into the physical world where it can be accessed by everyone around it.

When you are working on a site you will be guided to use the sword. It is as though you are just a witness to what it happening, as though there is another ‘you’ carrying out this work while you watch and wait. You will see the sword being either placed in a vortex, or taken from one. Sometimes you will see it turning, like a key in a lock or you will hold it high as it opens a gate in another layer above you.

There are also times when you will see an energetic cord being attached to the hilt which you will then take someplace else. Trust what you see … you are not making it up. Just because it seems like it is simply your imagination, it is not. It is on an energetic level, it is really happening! Trust is the key here. The challenge is to learn to watch rather than to make it happen with your mind. You will know when it is being done properly because it will just happen, without you doing anything to force the images. Often what happens can be a surprise. That is a good thing, because then you know you couldn’t possibly be making it up! The more you do it the more you learn to trust it.

The more proficient you become with using the sword energies, your own guides and soul will give you larger swords, for larger work on bigger sites.
Usually, while you are in training, you are given small sites to do. As you gradually become used to the energies, and your energy field is able to hold larger amounts of energy, larger sites are then worked with. It isn’t something you think about; it is just something that happens. You are the channel.

Sometimes, depending on how ‘visual’ you are, you will see spirit people giving you swords. They appear in your mind, sometimes days before you even know you are going somewhere. This is because they know you have work to do and they want to activate the energetic tools you hold (as symbols), before you get there. Now you are energetically prepared and your ‘other self’, the one that actually does the work, knows what to do. These spirit people will come in such a way that will give you clues as to what time period and/or energies you are working in. Their mode of dress and actions will tell you. We really are living in a multi-dimensional world and these people inhabit a mythic dimension which helps us humans to rediscover our ancient abilities. All we have to do is to trust.

This can also happen when you are about to give healing to someone. Your guides may come in with additional energy information wihich only become clear when you are working with someone.

The Vain Rook.

August 28, 2013 / Ann Murphy / Leave a comment

Sometimes stories ‘pop’ into my head and it is only when writing them that I realise what they are about. They usually reflect situations with people around me, teaching me,or someone else, how to deal with a situation or how a situation will evolve. I hope this helps the person it is destined for!

Once upon a time there was a very vain rook. He spent most of his days gazing at his reflection from a branch high up on a tree which grew on the side of a very large river. The river was so large that he couldn’t actually see where it began or where it ended.

His branch overhung the water in a particularly quiet part of the river, where two little channels separated from the main river and created little islands, which were then surrounded by clear, slow moving water.

Every day from his perch he would sit and gaze at himself, admiring his long shiny black feathers and his grey feathered chest.

“I must be the most beautiful bird in the world”, he would say to himself as he turned his head this way and that to see as much of himself as he could in the reflection of the water. He spent so much of his time preening and admiring himself that often he would forget to eat and the other rooks that spent time in the tree thought that he was the craziest bird that they had ever seen.

His parents, whose nest lay high above his branch, despaired of him, wondering how on earth they had raised such a vain chick. They shook their heads and sighed and worried about what would become of him.

One day, while he sat above the water, admiring himself as usual, he spotted a fish swimming below him. The fish was looking for flies as she was very hungry and she created ripples in the water distorting the mirror-like quality of the water’s surface.

“Hey” cawed the rook loudly. “What do you think you are doing there? Can’t you see I am doing something?”

The fish looked up in surprise. “I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?” she asked, her mouth gulping in a large fly that just happened to fly by her.

“Yes I’m talking to you!” the rook said indignantly, and he stuck his neck out trying to bring his beak closer to the water to get a closer look at this rude intruder.

The fish went on looking for flies and other tasty morsels and as she was so hungry didn’t really have much interest in the rook or his behaviour.

“Are you listening to me?” the rook demanded, becoming more and more irate with this selfish fish. The fish was swimming around so much now, and creating so much rippled water, that the rook could only see the dark shadowy outline of his body. Gone was the shiny lustre of his feathers and his long sleek wings and dark piercing eyes.

“Can’t you stop?” he yelled loudly in an angry caw. “I can’t see myself anymore”.

The fish stopped swimming and looked up at the angry young crow, her curiosity overcoming her need for food.

She poked her head up out of the water and took a couple of gulps of air. She stared up at the crow, whose beak was now right in front of her little face. She had to twist her head slightly sideways to get a better look!

“So…what are you doing?” she asked the crow who was by now hopping up and down and doing, what to the fish, looked like a very comical dance on the branch.

“What am I doing?” screeched the crow, “What am I doing? What does it look like I’m doing?”

The fish looked puzzled. All she could see was a young black crow hopping up and down on the branch of a tree and staring into the water.

“Are you …fishing?” she gulped warily, thinking that she might be crow food at any minute.

“Do I look like I’m fishing?” asked the crow in the kind of voice only reserved for the stupidest of animals…or fish.

“Well, come to think of it, no you don’t.” answered the fish. “ I mean I’ve seen those beautiful kingfishers flying high above the water and then diving deep to catch smallfry, but no, you don’t look like one of them.” she reflected. “I mean” she added with relieved grin, “I sure am glad you don’t look like one of them. So…if you are not fishing…then what are you doing?”

“I am taking care of myself”, answered the crow imperiously, thinking to himself that this was the most ridiculous fish he had ever come across. Didn’t she know anything?

The fish frowned a fish frown, which was barely perceptible to the crow. Not that he was looking at the fish anyway as he was too busy trying to see his own reflection.

Taking care of yourself…” the fish repeated, trying to ascertain exactly what this might mean. “Em…I don’t mean to sound stupid,” she added after a short pause, “But how does sitting in that tree, looking at the water all the time equal you taking care of yourself. I don’t get it”.

The crow, now believing entirely in the fish’s stupidity, explained in a slow manner, just so that the fish would understand what he, the clever and vain rook, meant by taking care of himself.

“Well,” he said, puffing himself up, “I look at my reflection in the water so that I can see how I look. I have to look my best you know, as do all birds. But,” he nodded his head in the direction of the other birds, “they don’t seem to understand that”.

“Riiight” said the fish slowly, still not really understanding what on earth the bird was talking about. She thought about this for a minute, then she asked carefully “So why do you need to look your best?”

The crow looked up to heaven, exasperated beyond measure. But at the same time, a little doubt was starting to creep into this mind. He had done this since he could leave the nest, in fact, he reflected, since even before he left the nest. He remembered sharing the nest with his brother and two sisters and as he grew older and bigger he would peer out over the edge of the nest and see himself reflected in the water below. He thought then that he must be the most beautiful of birds as he never could see the reflection of his brothers and sisters in the water. Only his. He felt that this must surely be because he was the most beautiful and so the river only wanted to see him. He must be the special one. And so it was important that he look his best at all times, otherwise the river might lose interest in him and then he would be…just ordinary…like the other birds. “No”, he thought, feeling now a little worried, and stating aloud, forgetting that the fish was beneath him in the water “I am the most beautiful. I am special”. He looked down at the water and saw the fish, who was looking up at him with a quizzical expression on her face.

“You’re special?” she repeated, curious now as to what this crow saw in himself. All she saw was a crow, and not a very handsome one at that, if handsome was a word one could use with crows! “And beautiful?”

“Yes, yes I am” stated the crow, straightening his neck to create the best profile.

The fish laughed, she had to go beneath the water to get her breath back as she was laughing so hard now that she thought she might drown with laughter. Once she had composed herself she rose again to the surface.

“What do you mean by laughing”? screamed the crow, flapping his wings and bobbing his head up and down angrily. “What is so funny about that?”

“I just don’t see what makes you the most beautiful…or the most special of all the birds,” the fish answered chuckling. “I mean…you’re a crow. What’s so special about that?”

The crow was furious. “I’m not just a crow”, he sputtered, “I am the most beautiful Crow. And that is why” he added breathlessly, “the river loves me so much. She sees me everyday and shows me how beautiful I am. Just look” he said pointing his beak at the water. “See, there I am, right there. How wonderful I look”.

And the crow leaned out over the water trying to prove to the fish just how much he was loved for his beauty.

The fish was by now in hysterics. After all she lived in the river, she knew that the river was just water and didn’t love anyone. Water was water!

She began to swim and swim in circles and the water became very agitated.

“Stop, stop,” screamed the bird wildly. “You’re ruining everything!!! Now I can’t see anything. Not even my colour! STOP”.

The fish suddenly stopped and let the water settle into quietness once again. It became the calm mirror-like surface it had been before. The crow heaved a sigh of relief and gazed anxiously into the water to see himself.

Then the fish asked the crow quietly “If the river loves you so much how come I can make ripples in it and waves so that you cannot see yourself in it any longer?”

The crow stopped gazing at himself and stared at the fish. Fear gripped his belly like a vice. He had never considered that before, believing that the river was all there was and that her reflection of him must be the truth.

“What do you mean?” he asked shakily. He gripped the branch tightly with his talons lest he fall off the branch.

“If the river loves you so much, which you believe it does, and that that is why she shows you such a wonderful reflection of yourself, how come I can come and change it all in an instant? How come I can make her change what you see?”

The crow became lightheaded. This thoroughly confused him. He had never thought of this before. He believed what he saw in his reflection and never for one minute thought that there might be another reason for it.

He felt that he was going to faint. What if the fish was right and he wasn’t the most special of all the birds..or the most beautiful? Then what? Would that mean that he was just like the others? Drab and boring, not shiny and black as he was? No, no that can’t be true.

“I don’t believe it” he said finally, sticking his head in the air and refusing to acknowledged the fish. “Its just not the truth. I am special. I just know it.”

“Oh you might be special” the fish said, “But no more special than any other crow.”. Then she added, just to torment him further as she liked the effect her words were having on this conceited young bird. “I , on the other hand, am special. Look how I can change the water and make you look ugly and distorted.” And she laughed at the bird who had now turned a whiter shade of grey!

She spotted a fly and darted for it, catching it deftly in her mouth and swallowed it whole. She turned then and looked at him. “You see crow, I live in the river and I know all of her moods and I know that in order to survive we must respect her and be grateful for what she gives us. But you, you will never understand that because you are a bird of the air and you do not know how to live in her…as the other crows do. They know where they belong but you don’t.”

She looked long and hard at him and then said “I wish you well, young bird, and I hope you find your true source of happiness one day.” And with that she dived beneath the water and was gone, her tail creating a splash behind her.

The rook sat on the branch, his wings drooped low and his head fallen on his chest. He couldn’t bear to look in the water, to see the reflection which no longer meant anything. After a short while he raised his head and watched the other birds in their nests. He watched too the other crows flying to and from their tree searching for food and he realised that he was hungry. He realised that he had spent so much time looking at himself that he really hadn’t been taking care of himself at all. He hadn’t been feeding himself but starving himself, and for what? Adoration? Love? He didn’t know. But he did know this. He knew that he would never trust what he saw in the river again, knowing that the reflection could change at any time and it didn’t tell him who he truly was. He was a crow, and he was supposed to be flying free above the trees and the earth. Something, he realised with gleeful surprise, that the fish couldn’t do. And with a loud and exultant ‘caw’ he flew into the air and soared as high as his wings could take him.

He flew so high that his parents, who had been watching him, wondering what on earth had been going on, were suddenly struck with fear that he might fly too high. But then they stopped and looked at each other. They each had the same thought, “Our son is flying…FLYING”. They cawed wildly and excitedly and threw their wings around each other. “Our son is flying” they cried together. “He’s become the crow he is supposed to be.” And they hugged each other and watched as their son soared through the clear blue skies where he was soon joined by the other crows. Their heart swelled with joy and they settled down in their nests glad that their son had finally found his wings.