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Reclaiming March 17th: A Faery Blessing from Tír na nÓg & the Living Soul of Ireland

  • Writer: Renee Boje
    Renee Boje
  • Mar 17
  • 11 min read

Updated: Apr 16

A faery Blessing Ireland with the true magic of green
A faery Blessing Ireland with the true magic of green

✦ A Faery Blessing Is Being Cast Upon You ✦


Stop.

Breathe.

Notice the green.


Beneath the surface of this day - beneath its familiar customs, collective rituals, and modern interpretations - there exists a deeper layer of cultural memory. March 17th carries with it centuries of shifting meaning, where historical observance, folklore, and contemporary celebration continue to overlap and evolve.


Within Irish mythological tradition, places such as Tír na nÓg are described as liminal realms - imagined landscapes where time, nature, and spirit are woven together in symbolic form. These stories reflect an ancestral worldview in which land, imagination, and lived experience were deeply interconnected.


In this context, references to “faery” beings can be understood as part of a broader folkloric language - one that expresses the mystery, vitality, and intelligence of the natural world as it was experienced through story, poetry, and oral tradition. These figures often appear at thresholds: in mist, in shifting light, in the edges of perception where certainty gives way to ambiguity.


There is a particular quality to attention on days of collective cultural significance - moments when memory and meaning become more visible, and people feel drawn to reflect on what lies beneath surface narratives. In this sense, the “green” of Ireland becomes not only a color or national symbol, but also a poetic entry point into questions of heritage, imagination, and relationship to place.


For those who engage with myth as symbolic language, these stories offer a way of exploring how meaning is constructed and felt across time. They invite us to consider how cultural narratives shape perception, and how imagination itself can function as a bridge between inner experience and the landscapes we inhabit.


In this reading, the “veil” is not a literal boundary, but a metaphor for perception - how attention shifts, how symbolism operates, and how human beings continue to find depth in the meeting point between story and lived reality.



Let us begin with the Faery tradition itself, for it forms the mythic foundation of what follows.


Within the lore of Ireland, the “Faery” is not a single fixed image, nor the later Victorian reinterpretation of delicate, winged figures. Rather, it belongs to a far older and more complex cosmology preserved in oral tradition and early mythic cycles.


The Aos Sí - often translated as the “People of the Mounds” - are described in folklore as beings associated with landscape features such as burial mounds, ancient earthworks, and natural thresholds. In cultural and mythological studies, they are frequently understood as expressions of the sacredness of place, and of pre-modern systems of perceiving land as animated, relational, and sentient.


Within these traditions also appear the Tuatha Dé Danann, a mythological people described in medieval Irish sources as arriving in Ireland and later retreating into the earth or “otherworldly” spaces following cycles of cultural change. In scholarly interpretation, these narratives are often read as layered myth-history - where earlier deities, ancestral memory, and landscape symbolism intertwine.


One of the most enduring frameworks in Irish myth is the concept of Tír na nÓg, often translated as the “Land of Eternal Youth.” In storytelling tradition, it is portrayed as an Otherworld realm characterized by altered experience of time, renewal, and continual vitality. Rather than a physical location, it is widely understood in folkloric scholarship as a symbolic geography - an imaginative structure through which communities expressed ideas about renewal, longing, and the mystery of existence.


Across these narratives, “Faery” figures appear in many forms and at many scales. Some are associated with ancestral or sovereign mythic figures; others with localized spirits of water, stone, tree, and field. Folklore records describe encounters at liminal sites - such as solitary hawthorn trees, burial mounds, and natural springs - where cultural memory has long marked the landscape as significant.


From a contemporary interpretive perspective, these stories can be understood as part of a broader animistic worldview in which land, imagination, and meaning are deeply intertwined. They reflect not only mythic cosmology, but also the ways in which communities historically related to place through story, reverence, and ecological attention.

In this sense, Irish faery lore can be read as a symbolic language of relationship - one that encodes memory, landscape awareness, and the experience of encountering nature as vivid, responsive, and alive within cultural imagination.



What Was Lost: The Silencing of the Sacred Green


This reflection invites us to consider the layered histories that shape March 17th as it is known today.


Over time, this date has become widely associated with Saint Patrick, whose legacy is traditionally linked to the spread of Christianity in Ireland. Historical and scholarly perspectives suggest that this period involved complex processes of cultural transformation, in which pre-Christian spiritual systems gradually intersected with, and were often replaced by, emerging religious structures.


Rather than a single moment of change, this transition unfolded over generations - shaped by social, political, and spiritual forces that continue to be studied and interpreted in different ways. What remains clear is that many forms of indigenous knowledge, ritual practice, and land-based spirituality became less visible over time, as new frameworks of belief and authority took hold.


Ireland’s experience is not isolated in this regard. Across many parts of the world, similar patterns can be observed, where local traditions and cosmologies encountered expanding religious and cultural systems. In these encounters, certain ways of relating to land, ancestry, and the sacred were preserved, while others were transformed, adapted, or diminished.


To engage with this history today is not necessarily to assign blame, but to cultivate awareness. It invites a thoughtful consideration of how cultural memory is shaped - what is emphasized, what is forgotten, and what continues to live on in quieter or less visible forms.


In this light, contemporary celebrations can be understood as layered expressions of identity, carrying both continuity and change. For some, reclaiming aspects of older traditions - through story, landscape, and symbolic practice - becomes a way of reconnecting with dimensions of heritage that feel meaningful yet underrepresented.


This process is less about opposition and more about remembrance: an effort to engage with history in a way that is reflective, inclusive, and attentive to the many voices that have shaped it.



The Serpent That Was Never Banished


One of the most widely repeated stories associated with Saint Patrick is the account of serpents being driven from Ireland. It is often told as a symbolic triumph, yet it invites closer reflection - particularly when considered alongside the ecological reality that no native snake species have existed on the island in the post-glacial period.


Because of this, many scholars and folklorists have interpreted the “serpent” not as a literal animal, but as a symbolic figure - one that appears across cultures as a representation of transformation, cyclical renewal, and the generative forces of life.

In pre-Christian European traditions, serpent imagery is frequently associated with the earth, with seasonal cycles, and with forms of intuitive or poetic knowledge. Within early Irish sources, concepts such as imbas - often translated as inspiration, illumination, or poetic insight—point toward a cultural understanding of knowledge as something that moves, emerges, and is felt as much as it is thought.


From this perspective, the story of the serpent’s “banishment” can be read as part of a broader symbolic shift: a movement away from certain ways of relating to land, imagination, and embodied knowledge, and toward different systems of meaning and authority.


Later interpretations have also connected serpent imagery with ideas about the earth’s energetic or geomantic qualities - sometimes described through concepts like “ley lines” or landscape alignment. While these frameworks are not part of early Irish sources in a formal sense, they reflect a continuing human impulse to understand the land as patterned, dynamic, and meaningful.


Traditional Irish folklore, particularly surrounding sites such as earthen mounds (sídhe) and natural springs, preserves a sense of the landscape as culturally and symbolically alive - imbued with memory, story, and significance accumulated over generations.


Seen in this light, the serpent becomes less a creature that was removed, and more a symbol whose meanings have shifted over time. Its presence persists not in literal form, but in the enduring human inclination to experience the land as responsive, storied, and deeply interconnected with cultural identity.



The Three Faces of the Sovereign Goddess


Within early Irish mythological literature, the names Ériu, Banba, and Fódla appear as personifications of the land itself - figures who, in tradition, are associated with the sovereignty and identity of Ireland.


In the Lebor Gabála Érenn (often translated as The Book of Invasions), these three figures are encountered by the Tuatha Dé Danann upon their arrival in Ireland. Each offers a name for the island, and in doing so, reflects a layered understanding of place as both physical and symbolic.


Ériu is most closely associated with the land in its fertile and sustaining aspect. Her name is the root of Éire, the Irish word for Ireland, and she is often interpreted as a representation of the earth as provider - embodying nourishment, continuity, and the cyclical processes of life and renewal.


Banba, in contrast, is frequently understood as an expression of the untamed and elemental dimensions of the landscape. She is linked to rugged terrain, shifting weather, and the aspects of nature that resist cultivation or control. In this way, she reflects a longstanding recognition within Irish tradition of the land’s autonomy and inherent power.

Fódla is associated with memory, language, and cultural continuity. Her presence within the mythic framework has been interpreted as symbolic of the preservation of story, law, and identity - particularly through oral tradition and poetic expression, which played a central role in early Irish society.


Together, these three figures can be read as a triadic representation of land-based sovereignty: not as a single concept, but as an interwoven relationship between ecology, experience, and cultural memory. Their continued presence in Irish literature and naming traditions reflects the enduring significance of land as both a physical environment and a source of meaning.


Engaging with these figures today offers a way of reflecting on how place is understood - not only geographically, but also through story, language, and lived relationship.



The Faeries Are the Guardians of the Green


At the heart of Irish folklore is a persistent theme: the land is not inert, but meaningful, storied, and worthy of respect. Within this tradition, “faery” figures are often associated with particular landscapes - fields, trees, wells, and mounds - serving as symbolic expressions of the importance of ecological balance and place-based awareness.


In narratives connected to Tír na nÓg and related traditions, these figures are frequently linked to environments that remain undisturbed - spaces where natural systems continue to function with minimal interference. In this sense, “the green” can be understood not simply as a color, but as a condition: one of vitality, biodiversity, and ecological continuity.

Irish folklore offers many examples of this relationship. Certain trees - particularly hawthorn, often referred to as “fairy trees” - have long been treated with caution and respect. In rural areas, it is still not uncommon for such trees to be left standing, even when development or agricultural work might otherwise remove them. These practices are not only rooted in belief, but also reflect a cultural ethic of restraint and attentiveness to landscape.


Rather than viewing these traditions as superstition, contemporary scholars often interpret them as forms of ecological knowledge encoded in story. By attributing significance or guardianship to specific sites, communities developed ways of protecting features of the environment that held both practical and symbolic value.


From a modern perspective, this framework offers a compelling lens for environmental reflection. To “protect the green” may be understood as an ongoing commitment to sustaining living systems: preserving waterways, respecting old-growth trees, maintaining soil integrity, and recognizing the interconnectedness of human and ecological wellbeing.

Engaging with faery lore in this way becomes less about literal belief and more about relationship - an imaginative and cultural pathway into environmental responsibility. It invites a form of participation grounded in care, where everyday actions contribute to the continuity of the landscapes we inhabit.


In this light, the role of “guardian” is not assigned from outside, but emerges through practice: through attention, stewardship, and a willingness to recognize the value of what is already living around us.



The Declaration of the Priestesses of Ireland


We who are devoted to the living world and to the enduring cultural memory of Ireland choose to speak - with clarity, care, and responsibility.


This reflection acknowledges the many layers of history held within the Irish landscape: sites that have been transformed, traditions that have shifted, and practices that have, at times, become less visible within dominant cultural narratives. Across generations, elements of land-based knowledge, ritual, and relationship to place have been preserved, adapted, and, in some cases, diminished.


To engage with this history today is to hold both awareness and respect - for what has changed, and for what continues to endure.


Figures such as Ériu, Banba, and Fódla - recorded in early Irish literature - remain powerful cultural symbols of the relationship between land, identity, and sovereignty. Their presence in story and language reflects an enduring understanding of place as meaningful, storied, and alive within cultural imagination.


Similarly, traditions surrounding Tír na nÓg and the sídhe landscapes continue to offer a mythic framework through which people explore themes of memory, perception, and connection to environment. These narratives, whether approached as folklore, symbolism, or spiritual metaphor, remain an important part of Ireland’s cultural heritage.


For many, reconnecting with these traditions today is not about rejecting other histories, but about expanding the narrative - making space for multiple ways of understanding relationship to land, community, and meaning.


At its core, this work invites a renewed attentiveness to the living world: to water, soil, plant life, and the cultural stories that have long shaped how these are perceived and valued.


It also affirms a broader, shared principle: that human wellbeing is deeply interconnected with ecological wellbeing, and that care for the environment is both a practical and cultural responsibility.


To “remember,” in this context, is not to return to a single fixed past, but to re-engage with ways of seeing that emphasize relationship, reciprocity, and presence.


This is not a call to adopt a belief system, but an invitation - to observe, to reflect, and to participate more consciously in the landscapes we inhabit.



Closing Reflection


The story of the serpent, the faery, and the green landscape endures as part of Ireland’s rich mythological and cultural heritage - symbols that continue to evolve in meaning across time.


Within this symbolic language, the “serpent” may be understood as a motif of transformation and renewal, the “faery” as an expression of the imaginative and ecological relationship between people and place, and the “green” as a reflection of living systems sustained through care and continuity.


Together, these elements point toward an enduring theme within Irish tradition: the recognition of land as meaningful, storied, and worthy of reverence.


In this context, sovereignty is not fixed in a single figure, but emerges through relationship - between people, place, memory, and ecological awareness. It is expressed through attention, through stewardship, and through the ongoing act of engaging with landscape as both environment and cultural inheritance.


To revisit these symbols today is to participate in a living conversation - one that bridges past and present, myth and experience, imagination and responsibility.


Written with love and devotion by Renee BojeIn reflection on Irish myth, landscape, and cultural memoryMarch 17 - A day of remembrance


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