Fintan the Wise roared at the assembly, “Why have I been called here!?”
A druid spoke, “There is both a dispute here, O Wise Fintan, as well as a matter of grave concern to each of us. Some of the nobles here have challenged the High King. They feel that the current boundaries of the manor of Tara are too great. Additionally, knowing that such things are arranged based on the ancient knowledge and that similar principles of alignment exist for human life, we have discovered that we are without such knowledge. It is as if our minds are engulfed in a mist. We are told you know of such things.”
Fintan looked into the eyes of the High King and scanned the faces of the nobles, reading their intent, discerning all things that dwelled in their souls. He nodded knowingly and made his way to the judge’s seat. After several moments of silence, he spoke.
“I am Fintan, sone of Bochure. I have been a one-eyed salmon. I have been an eagle. I have been a hawk on the wind. I have been a man of verse. I know of every people who have ever occupied this green land. I have seen the rising and falling of kings like waves on the sea. Ireland was my mother long before she became a kingdom of men, long before her glens and valleys were filled with paltry nobles squabbling over land. When I speak today, I speak for her, and for all that I have seen and been.”
Everyone fell silent for a time. A fire crackled in the center of the room. The wind could be heard blowing outside. Fintan continued.
“I will then impart to you the sacred teachings of a wheel in whose spirit you live. This wheel is the center of your life, it is your life. It is how Ireland, in all her beauty, should be arranged. It is the spirit and harmony to guide your lives.” Fintan was reminding yet another generation of the great Irish Spirit Wheel for he knew that without the teachings of the wheel, teachings of living in alignment with the proper order of things, he would have to come back again and again to councils such as this one.
“Each direction on this wheel holds a knowledge and power to guide, to temper, and to heal. For this is the sacred wheel of the land. It is the land. Her knowledge of learning and vision, her stories and her histories, her understanding of the Otherworld, dwell in the West. Her knowledge of battle and warriorship, tempering and boldness, pride, and conflict dwells in the North. Her knowledge of prosperity, hospitality, of abundance and gratitude, dwells in the East. Her knowledge of music and inspiration, of the Great Song, of waterfalls and life force, dwells in the South. Her knowledge of sovereignty and enlightened warriorship, of dignity, mastery, stability, and destiny, dwells in the Center.”
When Fintan had finished a peaceful calm settled over everyone present. The nobles looked at the High King with new eyes of understanding. They knew he was fit to be their leader. The High King looked at the nobles with new eyes of compassion. With the account of the living wisdom of the wheel, and of the sacred knowledge of Mother Ireland in each of the directions, something long cherished and vital had been restored in all of them. They remembered who they were.