Airmid, An Alchemical Tale
Mythic Ancestor Profile
🪄Your Mythic Ancestors eBook, which you can read online here and download in full on PDF below, is your ever-expanding compendium of Celtic deities and archetypes, exploring their stories, symbols, and creative inspiration. We’re now 108 pages in and I hope you are feeling supported by this rich lineage that you belong to.
A Chairde, Friends,
Today, we honour Airmid, divine healer and herbalist of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Pronounced “Ar-ih-mid” (or “Ar-vidge” in Old Irish), her name potentially means, ‘a measure of grain’. Grain is associated with the season of Lughnasa in the Celtic Calendar, and as we explore today, Airmid’s initiation into divine keeper of all herbal knowledge in Ireland comes in one of the final stages of alchemy, the rubedo, which is akin to the energy of Lughnasa. I personally associate Airmid with Imbolc and the Spring Equinox because this green land outside my window is awakening and Airmid’s kin, her herbs, are rebirthing.
Miraculous Incantation
Airmid’s story comes to life for us in the saga, Cath Maige Tuired, The Second [or last] Battle of Mag Tuired. Cath means ‘battle’, and Mag Tuired is a place, meaning the ‘Plain of Pillars or Towers’, located near Lough Arrow in Co. Sligo in the west of Ireland. The battle is fought between two divine tribes, the Tuatha Dé Danann and the Fomorians. The Fomorians have proven themselves unjust and oppressive rulers, this is a struggle for power where the Tuatha Dé will ultimately be victorious aided by the war goddess, the Morrigan.
Airmid is the daughter of Dian Cécht, the principal healer of the Tuatha Dé Danann. She, her father, and her two brothers, Míach and Ochtriuil are responsible for healing the wounded during the bloody conflict. No healing could happen without incantation. Airmid and her healing clan, chant mystical charms while plunging the bodies of mortally wounded warriors into a well called Sláine, which means ‘wholesomeness’, ‘health’, or ‘salvation’ in Old Irish. Gaelic is an oral culture, the word when expressed through the poetics of soul was magic manifest for our ancestors, and so, washed in this magical brew of healing words and waters, the warriors reemerge gushing with life.
‘Now this is what used to kindle the warriors who were wounded there so that they were more fiery the next day: Dian Cécht, his two sons Ochtriuil and Míach, and his daughter Airmid were chanting spells over the well named Sláine. They would cast their mortally-wounded men into it as they were struck down; and they were alive when they came out. Their mortally-wounded were healed through the power of the incantation made by the four physicians who were around the well.’
The Silver Hand
