Puissant

On a cold, snowy evening, I curled up in a comfortable chair, wrapped 
myself in a warm blanket and read a tome on Celtic culture. I came across the phrase, "the puissant Celtic race..." I dinna ken its meaning, so left my toasty cocoon and went to my dependable dictionary.


Puissant - adjective, archaic, poetic/literary meaning having great power or influence.

St. Paddy's Day being only a few weeks away, this phrase stirred a musing on my Celtic roots.


During the Paleolithic era, tribes with common bloodlines wandered Europe and crossed the land bridges to Britain and Ireland. As the glaciers melted, the seas rose separating these landmasses from continental Europe. Celts traveled across Europe, to the Iberian Peninsula, across the water to Ireland, from there to Scotland. Others crossed the water from what is now France to Britain. They did not know that the people they encountered shared common lineage.

The race had a powerful influence indeed. Before the dawn of the Roman Empire, Celtic tribes controlled from the North Sea to the Mediterranean, from the Atlantic Ocean to the Black Sea. Their strong points included lyrical poetry, art and metallurgy. While the Celts had strong clan loyalty, their weak point was organization.

They had no central leaders, no strong governmental units. Thus they fell under the aegis of first the Roman Empire, then succeeding regimes. The Celts were true anarchists. Proof that anarchy can lead to a fruitful, vibrant society despite the word's modern connotation.

So, instead of celebrating St. Paddy's Day in a drunk revel of Guinness and whiskey, explore Irish culture.   Enjoy the words of James Joyce, Jonathan Swift, W.B. Yeats and a host of others. Experience the joy of Celtic myth through Herminie Kavanagh's Darby O'Gill stories. Listen to the sounds of the Chieftains, the Irish Rovers. For those with more modern tastes try the Drop Kick Murphys and Floggin Molly.

Make the day much more than just a green dyed Frat party...boy maturity sucks.  As ever - BB

"For the Gaels of Ireland are men that God made mad/For all their wars are merry/And all their songs sad." - G.K. Chesterton