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Reflections and Poetry from the Morrígan Immersion

A raven basked in red filter

Thursday, November 14, 2024.


I get in my car at 11:30 a.m., ready to drive the three hours to Bingen, WA, for The Morrígan Immersion.


I was accepted to this program in May, but my anticipation for this stretches back to October 2023, when Courtney Weber first mentioned planning it at the "That Witch Life" table at Pagan Pride in Tacoma, WA.

I couldn't believe I finally made it to this point.

"Listen," Herself commanded me.


On the way to The Society Hotel (and the preliminary massage and sound healing I'd booked to decompress after the long drive,) I listened to Lora O'Brien reading the Táin Bo Cúailgne on the Irish Pagan School YouTube Channel. I had all the caffeine and chocolate I could desire for the afternoon.

As I neared my destination, I passed a large stone jutting out of the earth, a stunning waterfall, and an enormous rainbow. These visages seemed eerily fitting for the exact timing of the voice message I was recording in an attempt to process my racing thoughts out loud.

A gate with trees and a wreath

After unlocking years of stored trauma in my hips with the sounds of bowls and rattles, checking into my dormitory-esque bunk at the Society Hotel, and finally letting out my wrapped curls protected from the torrential downpour of the Pacific Northwest, I opened the door to our first group dinner.


I was greeted with enthusiasm, warmth, and the smell of a rich, home-cooked meal. Fellow attendees laughed and hugged each other, and our collective Spotify playlist filled the air with inspirational anthems.

It was a beautiful start to a transformational weekend

That night, we were tasked to write letters to ourselves at the end of the weekend.

Mine reads:


Dear Cawnawyn

You belong. You belong in the Tuath.

You are pursuing right relationship. 

It can really just be about you and your transformation. Your healing.

No one is keeping score. 

The work is good enough. 

It is up to you, and you are capable.

Love, me


Friday, November 15, 2024


Shit got real. Real fast.


"Release," Herself commanded of me.

an altar with battery candles, a raven, and a bowl of water with fresh flowers

I wasn't anticipating the first day to tackle my most challenging questions, but after going around in verbal circles with the facilitators about "WHAT is the end?" and "What is all 'the work' even FOR?" before 11:00 am, I found myself digging holes with my fingernail into the side of my hand to keep from crying in front of the group. "Focus on the pain," I told myself.

I listened to the facilitators echo my same frustrations with uncertainty and fatigue. When I felt my energetic boundaries dissolve and the emotions well up inside me, I stepped outside for fresh air.

And I found a stone. I grounded myself in the earth, felt the wind, listened, and remembered my letter to myself from the night before.

Pursuing the WILL to live was enough reason to try to keep living.

This thought comforted me. At that moment, I realized that, in the face of uncertainty, "the work" WAS the remedy (for me, anyway).

A hotel framed by a sunrise beyond a rocky hillside

Life makes sense as long as I keep my head down and put one foot in front of the other.

"Just keep moving," I tell myself.


That night, I spent some time alone in the Sanctuary. I recorded the Full Moon Forecast for the gorgeous Taurus Full Moon conjunct Uranus, finding newfound energy in my work as an astrologer. I then sang the second movement of The Phantom Queen as an offering to Her in our sacred space.

We reconvened after dinner, and I was thrilled to hear that our next assignment is to write poetry in the style of Rosc.
A woman singing

The assignment was to write a poem in response to/directed at an oppressive force. This is a characteristic of the ancient poetry spoken by The Morrígan. My mind immediately went to the new era of Pluto in Aquarius, beginning a few days later, on November 19th, 2024. Pluto will remain in Aquarius until 2044.


You can watch a performance of this poem on my Instagram/TikTok/YouTube channels.

Suffering, Equal

by Cawnawyn Mor


piercing flesh

flesh on steel

steel from scorn

scorn from servitude


resentment breeds starvation

starvation craves spotlight

spotlight begets judgment

verdict demands suppression

A woman reading poetry from a journal

idols create falsehoods

falsehoods demand obedience

rulers lay waste

mobs beg nourishment


opponents merciless

influence, a disease

insatiable bloodthirst

craving for carnage


justice drowned

horror beneath surface

muffled screams of children

laid bare to lechery


nakedness disregarded

bloodshed ravished

obedience outstanding

new masters rise


heavy are baskets

laden with heads

bowels undone

victory in annihilation


towers collapse

dust clears

youth strangled

by hands of kin


what is truth

truth is suffering

suffering equal

equality false


falsehoods illuminated

lights of hope

hope in whispers

whispers shepherd change


change woven

material of rebirth

laughter of infants

birth to death


what is end

where is beginning

suffering in surrender

surrender in peace


The day's realizations and inner transformation inspired me to write another poem that evening. You can watch a performance of this poem on my Instagram/TikTok/YouTube channels as well.


Standing Stone

by Cawnawyn Mor

A woman reading poetry from a journal

world sits

stone stands

enduring punishment

beaten by wind

etched in story

tortured in time

time as landscape

landscape treacherous

cragged edge

sharp tongue

rejoice in pain


world aches

longing for spirit

standing portal

portal in space

space for loss

loss made bearable

bearing is known

unknown landscape

work is remedy

heart of stone

live to endure


Saturday, November 16, 2024


"Trust," Herself commanded of me.


A picturesque waterfall framed by a footbridge against a cliff

I took comfort in the grounding energy of the standing stone.

I was privileged to be surrounded by people pursuing their own transformations and sharing their personal stories.

I was challenged to consider what acting with "Sovereign Judgement" might look like when put into practice in my own life.

I was cleansed (or soaked) in the rainwater of the Columbia Gorge on a waterfall tour, and it felt like we were met with each wild aspect of the Morrígan in the chosen locations.

I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be sitting behind Lora O'Brien and Jon O'Sullivan in a van, sharing in conversation and having the opportunity to share the deep appreciation I have for the work they do.


That night, we were tasked with a final letter to ourselves.

Mine reads:

A full moon against a mountainside

Dear Cawnawyn

You are supposed to be here.

You are a pillar. 

A standing stone.

Strong, rooted, acting as support and a portal to healing and transformation.

You may feel weary, weathered, and lonely, but Trust that this lifetime can truly just be about saving yourself.

And music saves.

And the stone endures.

And nothing but your own mind will keep you from enduring the rising waters.

The doubt, fear, and shame that sabotages you is the only thing making this river of life impossible to cross; your mind holds the key to getting your feet unstuck from the mud.

Trust that when faced with uncertainty, the work is remedy.

Trust in your Sovereign Judgement.

Trust in the Work.

Trust in your Voice.

Your Voice is your Weapon.

The Process is what this is meant to be, and there is nothing that you are incapable of pursuing.


Sunday, November 17, 2024


I hate goodbyes; I never know what to say.


a woman smiling holding a cup of coffee

I remembered to "Trust."

I found my courage and shared some of my beliefs and feelings with others in a way I had not previously felt comfortable enough with. I will cherish the gifts I received in response forever.

During the three-hour drive home, my mind wandered to what acting in Sovereign Judgment might look like in the coming weeks and months.

When I returned home to my husband and my kids, I felt remarkably different in body, mind, and soul.

The same image of Her repeatedly comes to mind: standing next to the stone in the windy landscape of time...




Present Day


There is so much more... so much more I could say.

The Morrígan was a core part of every second of this experience, yet much of this written reflection centers around my temporary human existence.


Still...


I am so grateful to each of my fellow attendees for their courage, openness, and genuine kindness I felt from everyone.


I don't have the language to express my gratitude to Courtney, Carla, Lora, and Jon. I find myself hanging on their words, replaying their stories and lessons, and reliving the profound moments that took my breath away and shook the ground beneath me.


As for Herself, I've renewed my promises, amended agreements, and given myself the space to consider what moving forward looks like. The devotion I feel for Her runs beyond the blood in my body.


Life doesn't look the same. The greatest fear I shared on the first night was that nothing would change after this.

Everything has changed after this.

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