Sword of Discernment
It's a magical sword I promise! Imbas Dispatch #8
A Chairde, Friends,
Who wants a sword of discernment? I can see you all waving your hands there in eager anticipation. I did wonder about this title. Could I not have chosen something more magical like the ‘Sword of Light’ (Claíomh Solais) or some other enchanted sword like ‘The Answerer’ (Fragarach), in whose presence no one could tell a lie, or a sword that rises from water in the hand of a mysterious Lady of the Lake? These swords are all symbols of the wider Celtic tradition that emphasised discernment, truth, and good judgement—this is what the sword represented for our ancestors.
In my last Imbas Dispatch, I shared about four treasures the Tuatha Dé Danann brought with them to Ireland from four wondrous cities, and we entered into the symbolism of the spear of the god Lugh and intuition. Today, I’ll share about the second of these treasures, a sword that came from the mystical city, Findias, that belonged to the king of the Tuatha Dé, Nuada of the Silver Hand (Nuada Airgeadlámh). You’ll sometimes see this sword described as the ‘Sword of Light’, which is a wider image of the sword in the Irish imagination. This description is fitting because, in the West, the sword’s straight, erect blade, is a symbol of the masculine aspect of solar energy.
‘The equilibrium of their world depended upon the king’s unity with the proper goddess of sovereignty, as well as his truth, justice and the prince’s truth, the fír flathemon.’
Muireann Ní Bhrolcháin, Early Irish Literature
Objects are alive with the energy of their owners, and so when we look at Nuada, we see a king who embodies the most aspirational quality a sovereign could hold in ancient Ireland, the ‘Prince's Truth’ (Fír Flathemon). In the 8th-century wisdom tract, ‘The Testament of Morann’ (Audacht Morainn), said to have been written on the deathbed of a judge called Morann, the dying man provides advice to kings like Nuada:1
‘He should preserve truthfulness, it will preserve him.
He should raise up truthfulness, it will raise him up.
He should lift up mercy, it will lift him up.
He should be considerate of his tribes, they will be considerate of him.
He should give deliverance to his tribes, they will deliver him.
He should calm his tribes, they will calm him.
Tell him – it is through the sovereign’s truth that the death toll of a mighty war-band and great lightning-bursts are kept away from people.
It is through the sovereign’s truth that he fulfils peace, tranquillity, the well-being of sages, and comfort.’
A king who does not embody these qualities will suffer the wrath of the Sovereignty Goddess, of the feminine because he, himself, will be out of balance. Like in later Arthurian Legend where it is the Lady of the Lake who bestows the sword as a symbol of sovereignty to King Arthur, in Irish mythology, it is the goddess who bestows sovereignty to the king.
In the tarot, the swords are associated with the intellect, logic and reason, clarity and communication. They are aligned with the thinking function in Jungian psychology. Like the goddess and king in harmonious union, intuition and thinking can be a powerful combination. The spear of Lugh hits us with an intuitive spark and the sword of Nuada helps us discern our best path forward.
In medieval alchemy, the sword cut through logos (reason) to delineate and identify different parts that made the whole, which could not be seen without the sword. But of course, the sword is double-edged; its shadow side involves dissecting too much (including ourselves), creating discord and fostering an overly defensive stance.2 This can lead to indecisiveness, inaction and poor judgement, all clouded by our own projections. Our ancestors took great care to consider the philosophy of balance, something we must come back to ourselves. A world with too many swords is not a healthy one, as we well know.
Nuada had his own hand chopped off by a sword in battle. No longer able to wield his sword as a symbol of his discernment, he abdicated. In time, with the help of his sage healers, a new silver hand (hence the epithet) was fashioned as a replacement, followed ‘joint to joint and sinew to sinew’ by a new fleshy arm. Psychologically, the experience of having a part of the self amputated ignites a dark night of the soul that creates a sacred void for regeneration. Nuada eventually reclaims his kingship as an even more whole king.
‘All of us need the masculine, not the patriarchy but the masculine discrimination, discernment, capacity for clarity, and the courage to use a sword when necessary. Some things have to be cut out of our lives and courage and strength is involved in that masculine energy…’
Marion Woodman, Coming to our Senses
Journal Prompt
Thinking of the ‘Prince’s Truth’ (Fír Flathemon), what does being true to yourself look like in your daily actions this week? How can you embody this principle? Are there any thoughts, habits, or behaviours you need to ‘cut away’ to see things more clearly? How might you do this with courage and compassion? 💚
Wishing you every blessing for the new moon and solar eclipse,
Croí isteach,
Jen x
PS: We have our first Full Moon Fairytale Céilí this month. If you are a member, you can register here. If you’re not a member and would like to come along, you can discover more below.
PPS: I am away hosting a retreat this week in the Boyne Valley but will respond to any shares (which are so welcome!) next week.
Audacht Morainn - The Testament of Morann, University of Oxford.
The Book of Symbols: Reflections on Archetypal Images from the Archive For Research In Archetypal Symbolism.
Oh, this is perfect. Exactly the kinds of sword I need 🤍