If We Shared Myths & Meals

The mystery of salmon and hazelnuts

Alone in my kitchen, I have a YouTube video playing on my phone while I make myself an omelette.

Martin Shaw

is talking about salmon and hazelnuts.¹

Now, if you’re a frequent reader of Myth Is Medicine, and if you’ve listened to KnotWork Myth & Storytelling, you probably understand the mythic context.

The sacred hazel trees drop their nuts into the well or the stream, and the salmon who eat them take on a new magic. Should such a salmon be caught and eaten, they would pass on the gift of knowledge-of-all-things. The best known version of this tale features a lad who must mind such a salmon as it cooks over his master’s fire. The druid had spent years trying to catch that wonder-filled animal, but it’s his servant who receives its gift. The hero we come to know as Fionn mac Cumhaill touches a blister on the scales and sucks his sore finger, and - aha - he has the gift.

It occurred to me, however, that if the people I share that kitchen with came in, they would assume I was watching a cooking show.

Actually, my family knows I have never watched a cooking show in my life (with the exception of the odd Great British Baking when I’m too sick to follow a plot). Seeing as our cat is named Little Dude McCool and I raised our kids on the children’s book of mythology that everyone in Ireland sent to us in 2009 (we have four copies!), all members of the Goudy household would have a passing familiarity with the story, but I think the point still stands.

It’s an interesting thing, to lavish a huge amount of attention on the culture and mythology of a place that no one in your regular, three dimensional world particularly cares about at all.

When I described this realization on the latest episode of KnotWork Myth & Storytelling, I prefaced it with the fact that my first blog was called The Girl Who Cried Epiphany. Sometimes, I have these revelatory moments, and then I realize that it was immensely obvious all along.

Any of us who are caught up in “subcultures” know what it’s like to have a weird and wonderful set of interests that most people we meet in everyday life simply don’t understand. Whether it’s a love of renaissance fairs or model trains, an esoteric spiritual practice or growing a particular type of heirloom tomato, you’re not alone in your passion, but it’s a rare treat to share oxygen with others who share your interests.

It’s important to note that I do not believe that my friends in Dublin and Mayo are talking about the salmon of wisdom with their kids around the dinner table every night. It’s foolish to assume that, just because a family lives close to the sources of myths and culture, the old stories automatically draw more attention than the pop stars, video games, and sports teams that saturate the global entertainment landscape.

What is different, I suppose, is that the shared references are there under the surface, as sure as the roots are beneath the forest floor.

It’s a notable “diaspora problem” to be an individual whose imagination is fueled by a set stories and symbols yet be unable share them with the wider community - at least not without the friction of translation and explanation.

Again, this isn’t any great revelation, but it felt like it was worth pausing and turning it over in my hands.

There’s a bit of lonesomeness in this realization, but there’s plenty of wonder, too.

Wonder over the gifts of modern connectivity that make it possible to welcome a great storyteller into my quiet kitchen. Wonder at the way these stories do light my everyday life, albeit in a quiet, interior sort of way. Wonder that these tales travel and persist. Wonder at the way certain mythologies are still so alive with magic and potential that they insist upon replicating themselves across time and space daily lived culture.

This Week on KnotWork Myth & Storytelling

In addition to talking about diasporic knowing and longing, my guest Nicole Marie brings us a story about the Cailleach, just in time for the spring equinox.

Wait, isn’t the sacred hag a Samhain-y figure? Yes. But that’s not all.

As I shared in a recent note, I am coming to the understanding that it’s always Cailleach season. Especially on KnotWork Myth & Storytelling.

1. Have you discovered Martin Shaw’s Jawbone series yet? I just finished his book, Bardskull, and these new YouTube talks are a remarkable follow up, all full of mythic meanderings and spiritual questions that invite me to keep reconsidering the wild Jesus, even if I’ll never make my way back to a Christian church.