The Celtic Imram

The ancient Celts told epic stories of voyages across the seven seas in a boat. The destination—to travel uncharted waters, to go beyond the ninth wave, to the golden lands of the Otherworld. The travelers embarked on what they called an Imram. The Imram is an allegory for a soul quest, a spiritual journey, a vision quest.

One famous Imram tale is the heroic legend of Bran the Blessed of Welsh mythology. Bran means Raven in Welsh, and his story is one of regeneration. He is known as the Guardian of Britain. https://bardmythologies.com/the-voyage-of-bran/  

image credit: Diana Morningstar digital arts

Another Imram can be found in my novel, Carry on the Flame: Destiny's Call. Sharay has been committed to a psychiatric hospital by her Aunt Phoebe who wants Sharay's fortune and her magical powers. In this scene, a mysterious elder mento, Dillon Emrys, describes the Imram for Sharay.  

*************

Sharay hiccupped again, wiped her wet cheek on her sleeve.

“What am I to do, Dillon?”

“About the hiccups?” The smile in Dillon’s twinkling eyes reached his lips, his mouth curving into a wide grin.

Sharay rolled her eyes. “No, silly. What am I to do about this?” she said, spreading her arms wide open to indicate the room, the psychiatric hospital.

“Simple. You’re to go on an Imram.”

“On a what?” She leaned back on her legs, and sat on the floor, her spine against the side of Dillon’s bed for support. She was exhausted, and Dillon was talking in riddles.

“On an Imram. It’s an important journey. A physical journey navigated by your soul.”

“My soul will navigate a journey?”

“Yes—it will be both an inner and an outer journey. The Imram is the outward form of an inner mystical journey. It’s much like a vision quest. You’ll travel the land, and as you do, you’ll visit the Inner Realms of your dreams and visions.”

“But the doctors call my dreams and visions hallucinations.”

“They know nothing.” 

Sharay stared, wide-eyed. “I’m not hallucinating?”

“Of course not.”

Sharay noticed how his dimples burrowed deep within the crevices of his cheeks.

“The Imram will be a splendid adventure. Just like it was for our ancestors, the Celts. They crossed the seas on mythic travels to foreign lands. They went on the Imram.”

Sharay imagined huge wooden boats, mermaids carved on the bow, sailing by star navigation across deep blue waters, heading far into the west. She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m in no shape to go on a sea voyage. I don’t see how your Imram will help me.”

Dillon chuckled. “The Imram is not limited to the sea. It’s not about where you go but how you get there.”

“So, how do I get there?”

“Trust the Imram. You’re in good hands with your soul as your navigator.”

“How can I go on an Imram? I can’t even leave this hospital,” Sharay said desolately.

*************

image credit: boat prow, ocean, guiding star: Diana Morningstar digital arts 

Visionary Fiction: What is this fiction genre anyway? Part 2

The genre of visionary fiction is a journey of the soul.

I write fantasy, urban fantasy, magical realism, and paranormal romance. But I primarily write visionary fiction. It's not a genre that is as well known as, let's say, urban fantasy. But, it has a loyal following, and it is no longer meshed under fantasy headings. It is distinct and becoming increasingly popular. I want to help readers understand what visionary fiction is about, so I am writing a series of posts about the genre, in several parts. This is Part 2. You can read Part 1 here.

After my incident at the Chalice Well, Anna told me about her Irish born grandmother, Millie. She recounted her last visit with Millie, years ago, the cold and damp winter she turned thirteen – only months before her grandmother died. From her vivid descriptions, I could imagine Anna as a young teenager, almost felt as if I’d been on that visit with her.

Millie had lived in a small village in western Ireland, and owned an old stone cottage with a cozy inglenook. Anna spent many hours beside that hearth, wrapped snugly in a warm wool shawl, watching the flames lick the edges of the sweet smelling peat. Her grandmother would sit on the bench beside her, her craggy face illuminated, her gnarled hands wrapped around a mug of steaming black tea, often with “just a spot” of whiskey added. Anna would snuggle into the protective shoulder of her grandmother, never really minding the cold, because that was the winter her grandmother taught her how to “travel.”

Millie was a natural story teller, what her ancestors might have called a Bard. She regaled Anna with tales that sprang to life in the tiny, fire lit living room. Tales of the mighty heroes of ancient Ireland, the power of the land, and the Tuatha de Danaan, the early Gods and Goddesses of Ireland. Most of her stories had to do with the Celtic Imram.

The Imram was the mythical heroes’ quest, the adventurous travels taken by ship to reach the farthest islands in the western oceans, in search of treasures, healing, or immortality. But Imrams were no ordinary expedition to explore the promises of those distant shores. They were the extraordinary voyage of the soul. The islands the travelers visited were portals to the Otherworld, that numinous place of magic, mysticism, and paradise. Whereas their outer expeditions brought them to the edge of the known physical world, where they had to fight in order to survive, their inner voyage brought them to another sort of edge – one where they had the opportunity to evolve heightened levels of awareness. New spiritual realizations were gained and changes in consciousness occurred.

Through the tales of Anna’s grandmother, I came to see that my experience in Glastonbury was my Imram. And those startling images I’d seen as I sat quietly beside the Chalice Well were my initiation into major shifts in awareness. Several years later, those provocative images eventually married my creative Muse, and birthed the novels that became my Goddess of the Stars and the Sea Visionary Fiction trilogy.

(to be continued in 'Visionary Fiction Part 3',  on Friday)

IMRAM