Despite all obstacles to the contrary, I managed to find time for my studies of the next Ogham. As with following any patterns, I found myself still going over Fearn while also learning Idho. In doing so however, I was able to expand my connection and learn more deeply about Fearn as  I went along, and as I found more resources. So, one item I wanted to add from my learnings on Fearn are that the alder tree itself has such an affinity to water. Unbending, unassuming, and undiminished. Alder is both nourished by water and it defends itself against it. Alder gives of itself when necessary and no more. The most important new aspect I’ve learned of Fearn is in attribution of perseverance. In the wearing down of life and trials Fearn will see you through. Now, let’s return to Idho.

This week brings a close to week two. My meditation was difficult one this week, and I found myself “fitting it in” among being sick and my other duties. However, I was able to find that moment, and this week Idho came to me.

Attributes and Associations

Idho. Iodhagh. EE-Yoh. It’s meaning is Yew-Tree. Its Old Irish root was idad and its phonetic value then is [i]. In the two word Briatharogam, it’s original meaning is unknown, but is likely connected to edad or Eadhadh, the Aspen tree. In some cases this may mean somewhat of a twin connection when presented together. Idho does not have a simple or clear etymology, so we draw our meanings from the Yew tree itself and the spirit of Idho.

They find us in the midst of transformation. It’s central attributes are death, endings, transitions, rebirth, communication with the dead, longevity, and strength. Non-binary in gender, Idho is unrestricted and untethered in their ability to speak to change. A symbol of eternal life and rebirth in the celtic tradition. Yew trees live exceedingly long lives, with beings of the yew family still alive after 1000s of years. Idho has a long and ancient connection with humanity, making it symbolic of death and renewal. The yew is a gateway for the dying before they find eternal life.

As the yew is both tough and tensile and thus also associated with bow-making and archery. As most of a yew tree is also considered highly toxic, yew also has the symbology of weaponry, which works in conjunction as a Ogham of death. As Yew is also seen as a gateway, Idho can also be a indication of communication with the dead. For me I associate Idho with Taliesan, the poet, and Lugh, god of skills, craft, and art. Above all however, it is a symbol of Transition. A symbolic death leading to a new life.

The Contract

Idho came to me in the understanding of Transformation. They came to me in the raw and unfiltered reality of ever-changing life. In association with Lugh, I find this connection perfect. As in the effort of transition it takes true effort of learning new skills, new arts, and new crafts to form yourself into a new person. As I’ve mentioned in a previous post I’ve recently come into the realization of a very strong and life-changing initiation. This transformation of self, which took what felt like an exceedingly long time to start and then process, has had me develop a multitude of new skills and crafting for myself I never thought I’d see. This learning of the Ogham is one of them. Idho is the second Ogham I’ve learned, but stands as a gateway for all them. It calls to me in my grief for what I was, and calls to me in the strength  I found in Fearn to take those steps through the door.

So as Fearn protects me from retreating back into my old self, my old comforts, Idho propels me through the gateway to my becoming. I bind myself in the contract with Idho to stand by these principles of becoming. I face the grief of sacrifice for a better existence, face the reality of what it means to behold sacredness of one’s body, face the agency of collective entity within one’s self and know impact of the choices you make, to face the worth one’s self and to no longer take for granted the fragility and responsibility of your own body. I see the death of so many old ways, toxic principles that I can no longer hold, that no longer serve the person the need to become. So much that my new path no longer can allow to stand in my way. As I begin to see myself and my body as sacred and worthy of care, I give voice to the silent and raise up the muffled words. Through this I can begin to share and form community and truly take part in my path for myself and for those I know I can share my healing process with.

The drawing for next week is Gort.