When I began this journey, nearly two years ago, I never expected to have a nine-month break, but sometimes that is the way things go. I shall spare the excuses, and just simply say…Well, here I am again. Back in February, I was able to attend Convocation, a pagan-bent convention where many classes and rituals are held for attendees, and there I was sharply reminded of this project to meditate and express the Ogham. Although so much has changed for me personally and otherwise since my last Ogham post, I feel it’s still important to continue this effort. With that said, if my format and tone seem different from previous posts, note this is why. Picking up from where I left off, today we meet nGéadal.

Attributes and Associations

nGeadal. Ngetal. NYEH-DAL. nGeadal of the Reeds and Ferns, of the grasses and greenery of the deep earth. nGeadal is the thirteenth letter of the Ogham alphabet, of the Muine set. nGeadal has a meaning of “the act of wounding”. It may be a verbal noun of “gonid” meaning, ‘wounds, slays’. in which case it is related to Welsh gwanu ‘to pierce, to stab’, which comes from the root *gʷhen- ‘to pierce, to strike’. Its original phonetic value in Primitive Irish was [ɡʷ], the voiced labiovelar. In Old Irish, this phoneme merged with g (gort), and the medieval manuscript tradition assigns it Latin ng [ŋ], hence the unetymological spelling of the letter name with initial n-. In the Kennings, there are three phrases for nGeadal: lúth lego “sustenance of a leech”, étiud midach “raiment of physicians”, and tosach n-échto “beginning of slaying”. With these very interesting meanings, it’s also interesting to point out the pretty equal discovery that nGeadal is associated with either Reeds or Ferns. That is why here I have nGeadal associated with both, or with grasses as a whole. I find it fitting, that while nGeadal is not associated with a tree, it can be associated with grasses on a far larger scale and the great diversity therein. 

The specific attributes of nGeadal are resilience, wounds, wounding, pain, ferocity, flow, and practicality. The Reed and the Fern enlighten us to the broader balance of humanity and although nGeadal can seem intimidating, the necessity is also apparent. Bringing us a little out of the realm of the trees, they are no less important to our lives as humans. 

Ferns are incredibly prolific and found throughout the world in many forms, particularly shady woodland areas and lowland mountainsides. They bear neither seeds nor flowers, but can give nutrients to humans and animals alike when just shoots. Ferns are also tenacious and not easily removed by any means. As ferns can cover great swathes of acreage they can provide a soft green blanket of protection to the earth below it. Beneath that soft blanket of feathery leaves, Fern plays host to a myriad of small animals. Rodents shuffle between the stems and during the hot summer months snakes freely weave their sinuous, sensuous dances and mating rituals. Fern offers them all protection under its low sweet-scented canopy. Stags cut pathways through expanses of Fern, and the Fern provides much-needed greenery even in places that other plants will not take up.

Reeds are very versatile themselves, used for all manner of crafts and also help keep our precious wetlands alive. The name reed is the most commonly used term that refers to grass-like plants the grow all throughout wetlands but is also referenced to most by-the-water growing plants. Reeds are historically essential to the expansion of culture and civilization. I’m sure most of you have also seen or at least heard of reed thatched roofs, reed boats, reed houses, and even musical instruments made of reeds. Even today these traditions are kept alive in many places in the world. In my part of the world, reeds are not used so often in a practical sense but still adorn many households and gardens in some capacity. 

The Contract

Sometimes it is not the high tree above us which gives us pause, but the humble shoots and curling green leaves of the ground beneath our feet. In the grasses, in the reeds and ferns, we view another angle to our world. At times this means pain and blood and tears. At times this means causing wounds and receiving them in turn. These actions are no less vital to our lives and love and comfort. Sometimes, they are even more necessary. In order to thrive and find harmony within our relationships, in our work, in our paths, we must grow and we must feel the pain and see the hurt of the world around us. In accepting this within ourselves, we are truly alive. nGeadal tells us we have pain within us, or that we are hurt in some way, he may also tell us that we may be causing pain, or that we must find a practical or resilient solution to the hurt we find. nGeadal tells us to look more closely at the wounds we bear, to find a way through them, and not shy from them.