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original artwork by Simon Rouse

The Celtic Yin and Yang

by Pat Beaven

reprinted from Celtic Connections Magazine, UK

 

Most people are familiar with Yin and Yang – the two basic, complementary principles to which Chinese philosophy assigns all things.   Western thought seeks to define everything, while Chinese philosophy does not consider definition helpful;  we can, however, understand Yin and Yang as convenient labels for describing how things function in relation to each other and  to the universe.  The Yin principle corresponds to the feminine, passivity, darkness, and the earth, while the Yang speaks of the masculine, action, brightness, and the sky.  They are represented by the Tai Chi, a circular symbol composed of a dark half (Yin), and a light half (Yang) – with the centre of each containing a point of the opposite colour.  This shows the perfect equilibrium of Yin and Yang, and signifies the interdependence of the two principles, opposites forever locked together … not hostile, but always influencing one another.

 

What many people are not aware of is that we have a corresponding Yin-Yang principle in the Celtic tradition.  It’s fitting that the two polar opposites of Celtic tradition should be water creatures: mystic and mythical qualities are often associated with springs and wells, and rivers have long been seen as an essential source of life – vitally important to farmers, on whose crops the continuation of communities depended.  The two are the glistening salmon and the dark otter – eternally engaged in the chase that fuels the world’s spiritual energy. 

 

Let’s look first at the salmon as the Yang principle, or masculine energy.  Consider the colour we’ve named after the salmon’s flesh – a vibrant pinky-orange, reminiscent of the sun.  The sun is a common Yang symbol as the visible embodiment of light, representing warmth and fire and life-giving power.  The salmon symbolizes action and adventure through its harsh struggles to complete the perilous journey upstream to spawn.  We see the swiftness and strength of the “salmon leap”  employed by various Celtic heroes in their quests; one example is Cuchulainn, who uses the mighty leap to cross Pupil’s Bridge when he needs to gain access to Scathach’s advanced knowledge of warfare. The salmon also symbolizes knowledge and wisdom, possibly because of its reputation for being able to find its way year after year from the sea to its spawning grounds many miles away.  Various myths illuminate this quality in connection with the salmon.  The Book of Invasions (Leabhar Gabhala), one of the works of The Mythological Cycle detailing the founding and settlement of early Ireland, tells the story of Fintan, the only person in that country to survive the Biblical flood.  He does this by hiding in a cave for five and a half thousand years, in which time he gains all knowledge.  He possesses even knowledge ordinary men could never have because he spends part of his life in different animal forms, one of which is a one-eyed salmon - Ruadh Rofessa – “The Omniscient Red One”.  Fintan in his salmon form may be the same as the great salmon of knowledge in tales of Finn MacCool.  This salmon acquires its mystic knowledge by eating hazelnuts that drop into the water of the sacred spring, and it is predicted that supreme knowledge would be conferred on whoever, in turn, eats the salmon.  Another example, from a Welsh tale, has Culhwch on a quest to complete tasks set by Ysbaddaden from the court of Arthur.  He is to secure the services of Mabon, son of Madron, as huntsman; the challenge is that Mabon has not been seen or heard of in years and nobody knows where he can be found.  Our hero seeks advice from a series of animal helpers: the great Stag of Redynore, the Owl of CwmCawlwyd, the Eagle of Gwernabury, then finally the oldest of all living things – the Salmon of Llyn Llyw – from whom he gets his answer.  

 

Balancing the Yang of the salmon is the dark otter or “depth hound” – Dobhar Cu - representing  the feminine Yin energy.  The brightness of the salmon as sun icon finds its opposite in the otter as a lunar symbolic animal.  The otter’s coat ranges from medium shades of grey to greyish-brown, naturally appearing much darker – almost black -  when it is wet and sleek.  Its reputation is as a joyous, relaxed, playful creature.  The otter speaks also of helpfulness, protection, the ability to pass on wisdom and heal ills; baby otters are not born knowing how to swim and adapt to being underwater for long periods of time, but are taught methodically and patiently by their parents.  There are several instances of an otter-helper in the tradition of  immram, voyages enacting the passage beyond death and the testing and questing of the spirit/soul.  An otter provides food and other assistance during the mythic voyages of both Maelduin and St. Brendan.

                                                                         

These then are the players, the Celtic Yin and Yang.  But what of their interaction – the eternal chase, the struggle, from which harmony and balance emerge?  Carl Jung has interesting things to say about the ambivalence of the water creature as a representation of the conflict always present between the – unintegrated -  light and dark aspects of  self.  Jung claims that the two halves of the water creature correspond to “the doubling of the shadow (self) most often met with in dreams, where the two halves appear as different or even antagonistic figures” .  Over and over throughout  Celtic mythology we find this contest between light and dark, salmon and otter.  The Irish poet Finnegas is finally able to catch the great Salmon of Knowledge because it must stay relatively near the surface -  swimming  too deep would  result in being chased by its nemesis, the dark otter.  In the Welsh legend that echoes this  tale, a small boy  accidentally receives all the world’s knowledge by tasting the magic potion brewed by the witch Ceridwen for her own son, and must then flee from her rage.  In the shape-shifting chase that ensues,  Gwion (later to be renamed Taliesen) turns himself first into a hare, and Ceridwen gives chase as a hound; he transforms himself into a salmon, she into an otter; she becomes an eagle, he hides as a single grain in a pile of wheat ( which, clever woman, she sees as an opportunity, quickly turns herself into a hen, and eats!)

 

It is not uncommon for parallel  symbolic imagery to show up in the art, archaeology, religion, mythology, dreams, and literature of cultures around the world.  Unlike the knot pattern or the stag motif, the black and white circular Yin-Yang emblem is not a common a symbol for people of Celtic heritage … but now you know it has just as much meaning!        

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