I have always loved prayer beads. Growing up Roman Catholic, I could never wait to get my hands on a rosary. There was just something about the beads that absolutely entranced me. It gave the prayers a physical form—I could touch them, see them, and actually interact with them. Though a lot of Catholic school children complained about having to engage in this Marian devotion, I was always happy to meditate with these sacred beads. In fact, I was so happy that from time to time I would pray a monastic rosary—comprised of over 150 prayers! I was zealous, and perhaps a bit too zealous, about my relationship with my rosary. Nevertheless, even when I began to turn away from Roman Catholicism, my rosary gave me a sense of comfort. Yet, as I grew older and more aware of my spiritual needs, I eventually abandoned this last vestige of Catholic practice in hopes of embracing a new path: Paganism.
As any Pagan convert can tell you, upon first entering Pagandom you are bombarded with new ideas, new ways of thinking, and new experiences. It was no different for me. Amidst the shiny objects, the pomp-and-circumstance of fresh rituals, and the promise of something radically different, I quickly forgot my rosary-love. There was far too much fun in the future for me to be concerned with the past. It was not until I got off my initial this-is-awesome-because-it-is-new high and found my niche within the Pagan religious spectrum that I actually began to miss my rosary.
By this time, I was in my last years at a Catholic high school. As always the rosary was a regular part of our school-wide devotions, and I found myself growing envious of my fellow classmates. I wanted to pray the rosary. I was jealous that they could touch, that they could somehow interact with these abstract ideas that were so central to their religion. I wanted that experience again. The fact that the rosary was portable did not help either. If I wanted a physical reminder of my beliefs I had to trudge up to my home altar and take inventory. Whereas my classmates could take their spiritual reminder with them, I had to go to mine. I longed for something as powerful and as portable as my estranged rosary. But where does a Gaelic Pagan turn in a situation like this? Since there was no mention of prayer beads in the lore, I decided that I had to be innovated.
I had seen mala (also called japa and japa mala) beads a few times, and they looked pretty cool. So I set out and bought myself a set of sandalwood mala beads, hoping that they would cure my craving. They were beautifully simple, without design or embellishment, and they smelt absolutely amazing. I played around with them for a few months—reciting mantra again and again. While the beads definitely helped me reach a new spiritual depth, they just did not fill the void left by the rosary. There was something not right, something missing. Yet they were all I had, and I clung to them for what it was worth.
It was not until I moved to Madison and joined up with a new Pagan community that I got a dose of insight. A local Pagan temple with which I had become involved actually had prayer beads! I was overjoyed! Besides being great to look at, they were also specifically designed for Pagans! However, while this was closer to fulfilling my desire, it was not quite a perfect fit. The beads were designed for the “pop-Pagan” community. There were beads for the Elements, for the Goddess, etc. Having settled as a Gaelic Polytheist, these prayers did not resonate with me. Still, it was a step in the right direction. After all, if a Pagan temple could create its own strand of prayer beads, then dammit, so could I!
I got to work almost immediately. What did I want to represent in these beads? Obviously I wanted to hit the essential aspects of my path, but what exactly were these? How would the beads function together? What kind of pattern would they form? These and hundreds of other questions flooded my mind as I endeavored to crank out a design. Then, years after leaving behind my beloved rosary and trying to fill the void, I had the blueprint for my very own Pagan “rosary.” Finally I would have a tangible and portable expression of my religious beliefs. Finally my vicious envy could subside. In a few months and after couple trips to the bead store, I had my prayer beads.
I went with a simple, yet meaningful design. It begins by honoring Life, the force of creation. Then its prayers spiral outward, giving honor to the external elements of my path: the realms, the tribe, the land, the Gods, the ancestors. Having achieved a climax with Sovereignty, the prayers spiral inward, reminding me of the internal elements: my values, my virtues, myself and its components. And, as it began honoring Life, the beads end by honoring Death and destruction. Yet both Life and Death are honored on the same bead, forever reminding that Life and Death, creation and destruction are one-and-the-same.
After years of waiting, I have my prayer beads, and I cannot believe that I waited so long for them. I treasure them dearly, and at the start of every day, I pray them—remembering my path and myself. Through the beads I am able to grasp the breadth and the mystery of my path; I am able to touch something so abstract but so dear to me. In many ways, my prayer beads are not just a tool but a friend, a projection of my purest self. In many ways, they are just like the rosary that I left behind long ago.
_____________________________________________
What is the point of me telling all of this to you, my dear reader? Not hard to say. This blog is about Gaelic Paganism, specifically Gaelic Paganism from my understanding of it. My prayer beads embody my most important religious concepts. To accurately understand my path of Gaelic Polytheism, then, I feel that you must understand the most fundamental concepts represented in these beads.
Consider this an introduction into my path: Over the next few weeks, I will be posting articles that go into greater depth as to what each of my prayer beads signifies. It is my hope that this lends you not only a greater understanding of my path but also a greater understanding of Gaelic Paganism in general. While I certainly do not claim that my views are the only “correct,” nor even the “most correct” ones, I know that they have their counterparts amongst other Gaelic Pagans.
And what do you know? Perhaps, just perhaps, this excursion will get you to question and to better appreciate some of your own beliefs.
Sláinte,
Bryce
As any Pagan convert can tell you, upon first entering Pagandom you are bombarded with new ideas, new ways of thinking, and new experiences. It was no different for me. Amidst the shiny objects, the pomp-and-circumstance of fresh rituals, and the promise of something radically different, I quickly forgot my rosary-love. There was far too much fun in the future for me to be concerned with the past. It was not until I got off my initial this-is-awesome-because-it-is-new high and found my niche within the Pagan religious spectrum that I actually began to miss my rosary.
By this time, I was in my last years at a Catholic high school. As always the rosary was a regular part of our school-wide devotions, and I found myself growing envious of my fellow classmates. I wanted to pray the rosary. I was jealous that they could touch, that they could somehow interact with these abstract ideas that were so central to their religion. I wanted that experience again. The fact that the rosary was portable did not help either. If I wanted a physical reminder of my beliefs I had to trudge up to my home altar and take inventory. Whereas my classmates could take their spiritual reminder with them, I had to go to mine. I longed for something as powerful and as portable as my estranged rosary. But where does a Gaelic Pagan turn in a situation like this? Since there was no mention of prayer beads in the lore, I decided that I had to be innovated.
I had seen mala (also called japa and japa mala) beads a few times, and they looked pretty cool. So I set out and bought myself a set of sandalwood mala beads, hoping that they would cure my craving. They were beautifully simple, without design or embellishment, and they smelt absolutely amazing. I played around with them for a few months—reciting mantra again and again. While the beads definitely helped me reach a new spiritual depth, they just did not fill the void left by the rosary. There was something not right, something missing. Yet they were all I had, and I clung to them for what it was worth.
It was not until I moved to Madison and joined up with a new Pagan community that I got a dose of insight. A local Pagan temple with which I had become involved actually had prayer beads! I was overjoyed! Besides being great to look at, they were also specifically designed for Pagans! However, while this was closer to fulfilling my desire, it was not quite a perfect fit. The beads were designed for the “pop-Pagan” community. There were beads for the Elements, for the Goddess, etc. Having settled as a Gaelic Polytheist, these prayers did not resonate with me. Still, it was a step in the right direction. After all, if a Pagan temple could create its own strand of prayer beads, then dammit, so could I!
I got to work almost immediately. What did I want to represent in these beads? Obviously I wanted to hit the essential aspects of my path, but what exactly were these? How would the beads function together? What kind of pattern would they form? These and hundreds of other questions flooded my mind as I endeavored to crank out a design. Then, years after leaving behind my beloved rosary and trying to fill the void, I had the blueprint for my very own Pagan “rosary.” Finally I would have a tangible and portable expression of my religious beliefs. Finally my vicious envy could subside. In a few months and after couple trips to the bead store, I had my prayer beads.
I went with a simple, yet meaningful design. It begins by honoring Life, the force of creation. Then its prayers spiral outward, giving honor to the external elements of my path: the realms, the tribe, the land, the Gods, the ancestors. Having achieved a climax with Sovereignty, the prayers spiral inward, reminding me of the internal elements: my values, my virtues, myself and its components. And, as it began honoring Life, the beads end by honoring Death and destruction. Yet both Life and Death are honored on the same bead, forever reminding that Life and Death, creation and destruction are one-and-the-same.
After years of waiting, I have my prayer beads, and I cannot believe that I waited so long for them. I treasure them dearly, and at the start of every day, I pray them—remembering my path and myself. Through the beads I am able to grasp the breadth and the mystery of my path; I am able to touch something so abstract but so dear to me. In many ways, my prayer beads are not just a tool but a friend, a projection of my purest self. In many ways, they are just like the rosary that I left behind long ago.
_____________________________________________
What is the point of me telling all of this to you, my dear reader? Not hard to say. This blog is about Gaelic Paganism, specifically Gaelic Paganism from my understanding of it. My prayer beads embody my most important religious concepts. To accurately understand my path of Gaelic Polytheism, then, I feel that you must understand the most fundamental concepts represented in these beads.
Consider this an introduction into my path: Over the next few weeks, I will be posting articles that go into greater depth as to what each of my prayer beads signifies. It is my hope that this lends you not only a greater understanding of my path but also a greater understanding of Gaelic Paganism in general. While I certainly do not claim that my views are the only “correct,” nor even the “most correct” ones, I know that they have their counterparts amongst other Gaelic Pagans.
And what do you know? Perhaps, just perhaps, this excursion will get you to question and to better appreciate some of your own beliefs.
Sláinte,
Bryce
A picture of my prayer beads
