The Torch of Brighid is a book by Erin Aurelia who has tended the sacred flame of the Celtic Goddess Brighid for over twenty years. The book provides historical information about Brighid based on existing sources and introduces a transformational flametending practice that is rooted in tradition and inspired by mythic connections and by Brighid herself. The author makes it clear at the beginning that she is not reconstructing a past Pagan practice.
Working with traditional material Erin has produced a series of meditations forming a transformational journey based upon Brighid’s roles as smith, healer and poet (and dreamer*), the ogam, the three cauldrons and the celebration of Imbolc.
She begins by providing Brighid’s historical background followed by guidance for setting up an altar to Brighid and beginning a flame tending practice through making a Brighid-flame candle ‘to light and tend Brighid’s fire’.
As further preparatory work there are meditations in the form of visits to the Inner Temple, the Well of Wisdom and opening to Brighid’s energy through the Mantle of Brighid. These felt like a firm foundation for a flametending practice.
Erin bases the twenty day flametending journey on the ogam and the life cycle of a tree (relating to St Brighid’s sanctuary Cill Dara ‘The Church of the Oak). The first five days focus on growth, the next five on fruiting, the next five on ripening, the last five on seeding. Meditations are given for each of the days guiding the devotee through the transformational processes.
The ritual year is based around the four Celtic festivals Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasadh and Samhain which are identified with four ogam characters and mapped onto the Celtic cross with the fifth in the middle.
A new rite Erin introduces that particularly resonated with me was holding an ‘advent’ for Brighid’s return to the land at Imbolc based upon Her four faces.
Although I am not a Brighid devotee or a flametender myself so haven’t been called to participate in the practices outlined in the book I can see that they would provide an excellent grounding for both newcomers and practicing Polytheists to meet Brighid and begin flametending as a devotional practice.
I admired the way Erin has reimagined this series of rites from traditional material. I would recommend this book to anyone interested in Brighid and flametending and to all Polytheists seeking inspiration on how to create new rituals from existing sources with the guidance of their Gods and Goddesses.
The Torch of Brighid is available from Moon Books HERE.
*This is based on gnosis surrounding Brighid as the serpent who sleeps in winter and comes out of the mound in Scottish folklore.
I’ve enjoyed running on-and-off since my early twenties as a form of exercise that has been really beneficial to my physical and mental health. I haven’t been able to run very long distances due to problems with anterior knee pain ‘runners knee’ and with my sciatic nerve. My furthest is 15 miles. Since starting strength training I’ve been running around 30 miles a week relatively injury free.* Last year I beat my goal of running a sub 2 hour half marathon with the time of 1 hour 54s.
Before I took monastic vows as a nun of Annwn one of the things I was concerned about was whether I would still be allowed to run and continue with my strength training. When I looked into rules about exercise in monastic traditions I found they differed widely. For example in Thailand the Buddhist monks are not allowed to ‘do weight lifting’ or ‘jog’ as it is ‘not proper’ (resulting in obesity)**. Contrastingly another Buddhist order, ‘the Marathon Monks of Mt Hiei’ in Japan, have to run distances between 18.6 miles a day for 100 days to 52 miles for 100 days over a seven year period.***
It is also notable that many monastic orders incorporate martial arts such as the Chinese Shaolin Monastery, the Hindu Naga Sadhus, and the monks of the Knights Templar during the Crusades.
The moment I thought about this question in relation to my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd, who is a warrior and a huntsman, I knew I didn’t really need to ask as He has encouraged me to run and do Taekwondo (before my local club closed) and more recently to take up strength training. I often feel closer to Him when I am running through the woods than when doing more formal devotions.
When I formulated the nine vows for the Monastery of Annwn I received the gnosis that one of them must be ‘to take care of our health’ and that could include exercise for those able to do it.
Over the past couple of years, when I am ‘in the zone’, I have found myself filled with energy that I can gift back to the Gods and the land in ad hoc prayers of thanksgiving as I have been running.
As a couple of examples this is one for my river Goddess, Belisama, as I run beside the Ribble –
‘My beautiful river, my beautiful river, my beautiful river – joy – my beautiful river, my beautiful river, beautiful river.’
This is a fragment of a praise poem that I tend to change in accordance with where I’m running –
‘I praise the land, the trees, I praise the sound of running feet, I praise the skies, I praise the clouds, I praise the sound of feet so loud…’
When I’ve had bad days and am in no mood for words I’ve offered my perseverance and effort to my Gods.
More recently I have begun using running as a form of prayer to bring myself closer to Gwyn reciting this ‘mantra’:
‘My breath with Your breath, my heart with Your heart, my feet on Your path, You and I as one.’
I am embracing running as a physical, mental, and spiritual practice that brings me into unity with my God.
Nodens is an ancient British God of water and healing dreams. This is evidenced from His temple at Lydney where He is pictured on a mural crown driving a chariot pulled by water-horses and flanked by spirits of the wind and sea. The layout suggests that pilgrims took a ritual bath in the bath house, made offerings in His temple, then retired to a dormitory to enter a sacred sleep. On waking their dreams were interpreted by an ‘interpretus’.
I have been relating to Nodens as a God of dreams since 2012. I started connecting with Him around the same time I met His son, Vindos/Gwyn ap Nudd*. At this time I found out that Nodens was also worshipped here in Lancashire as evidenced by two Romano-British silver statuettes, dedicated to Him as Mars-Nodontis, found on Cockersand Moss.
I used to suffer from insomnia and started praying to Nodens as a dream God when I was desperate to sleep the night before travelling to the midlands for a Druid Network Conference in the midlands at which I was speaking for the first time on the bardic tradition. I was nervous not only about the talk but staying away from home in the company of so many people.
I prayed to Nodens… and I slept… and when I returned home I made Him an offering of mint tea and thus began my practice of praying to Him every night before I go to sleep and making regular offerings. Since then I have never struggled to getting to sleep although I still sometimes struggle with early waking. Skeptics amongst you might argue this is simply the consequence of having a winddown routine and spending time in darkness in front of a candle but I personally believe that my prayers to Nodens are the driving cause.
Nodens has also helped me to build a dreamwork practice. Several years ago He instructed me to collect a ‘dream stone’ from the Ribble and to place it on His altar then to put my dreams into it as an offering to Him when I wake up. I also journal my dreams for the purposes of remembering them. In the evenings I reflect on my dreams before I pray to Nodens and go to sleep.
Interestingly Nodens has never played an active role in interpreting my dreams, although I have sensed His guidance when making interpretations. I have never used books, but have been encouraged to explore the personal symbology of my dreams and what certain images and themes mean when they arise.
I often dream that I am ‘back at the stables’ – mainly at Oakfield Riding School where I spent a large part of my childhood working on the yard for free rides and where I worked as a riding instructor after giving up my PhD. In my dreams it represents my desire to return to a safe and a familiar place.
Another common theme is visiting shops that are selling a combination of rock/goth clothing and accessories and Pagan paraphenalia. These consistently have multiple levels, like Preston market, or Affleck’s Palace in Manchester, where I used to shop and hang out. I often see people from the past. I find I can’t relate to them and I cannot find what I am looking for. These dreams remind me that although I had friends with a similar taste in music we had nothing in common outside that and I didn’t truly fit in. Also that what I was searching for, some kind of deeper meaning, cannot be bought.
It’s not that often the Gods show up in my dreams but when they do it is deeply meaningful such as when Gwyn showed me how to send my soul into a hazel tree, then a beetle, then something else, in order to escape execution.**
In many of my dreams, frustratingly, I know I am on a mission for Gwyn, but have failed or forgotten what it is, showing my anxieties about failing Him.
I’ve never had an experience with Nodens in my dreams but sense the touch of His (silver) hand when there is humour. For example a couple of months back I mistakenly allowed a troublesome member who made an inciteful post into the Monastery of Annwn and was not sure what to do about it. I then dreamt I was working at the stables and found someone had put a turd in one of the horse’s water buckets and was furious. The dream told me that, in the same way I could not allow a person who puts turds in horse’s water buckets to come to the stables, I could not have someone who posts inciteful posts in the monastery. With the words of other members this convinced me to ban them.
Dreamworking with Nodens has not given me all the answers to my dreams but it has helped me to remember, record, listen to, honour and act upon them. Over the time I have been recording my dreams I have logged an increasing number each year showing my dream recall has been improving.
I believe this practice is important as dreams are the way our Gods and our souls can speak to us with the least interference from our conscious minds. For this reason I don’t try to control my dreams through techniques like lucid dreaming.***
I would be interested to hear about whether anyone else has been inspired to take up a dream work practice with Nodens or works other ways with dreams.
*Nodens is known as Nudd or Lludd in medieval Welsh literature. **I have recorded an account of this dream HERE. ***Another reason I haven’t experimented with this technique is that asking the question ‘am I dreaming?’ in everyday life would be a trigger for returning to doubts about the nature of reality and blurring of boundaries that led to me not knowing what was real and was not and made me fear I was going mad during a mental health crisis in my early twenties.
A good place to start getting into dreamwork is Nimue Brown’s book Pagan Dreaming HERE
Taranis moving across the dark sky! Hail to the Thunderer!
Taranis moving His chariot wheels cry! Hail to the Thunderer!
Taranis moving His lightning bolts fly! Hail to the Thunderer!
Taranis moving I roar my reply! Hail to the Thunderer!
*We have had very hot weather here in the UK which has been broken by some much appreciated thunderstorms. Whilst I was reading a book in the midst of one this evening a massive roar of thunder made me leap from my seat. I interpreted as a sign that Taranis, ‘the Thunderer’, desired some acknowledgement. I poured Him some tea but it didn’t seem enough. So I wrote this poem and read it for Him and will continue to use it to show my appreciation when, again, He brings our much needed rain.
I. You tell me summer is not a time for absence but for presence,
to be HERE in Creiddylad’s garden
with these plants I have sown, watered, nurtured, grown.
A thousand oxeye daisies reminding me of Your colourful ox and the thousand names for You and Creiddylad forgotten but one day will be sung again by your awenyddion.
The meadow cranesbill that reminds me of Your conversation with Gwyddno Garanhir the wise crane dancer.
The roses that should have been white and red but white was pink as a bath puff.
The yellow loosestrife my wand.
The foxgloves in which I would build our monastery if only they lasted all year round.
That I am slowly becoming Sister Patience – I am.
II. And I dream they put me in hospital because flowers are growing between my toes.
I joke about becoming a flower maiden
but I fear they have taken root in my flesh, intertwining with my veins, with my nerves, might be sinking into my soul.
Am I not a beast, another Afagddu, Your dark one?
III. I laugh about the tales of flower maidens who become thorns and owls.
I could never desert You,
turn my face towards the sun god like an oxeye daisy.
The flowers wilt and fall from my feet one by one as I walk from Thisworld to the Otherworld to Your tomb
as Your apprentice, Your awenydd, as Your nun, to speak my poetry as You lie in Annwn’s silence.
*A poem addressed to Gwyn ap Nudd, my patron God, the lover of Creiddylad, who spends winter with Gwyn and summer with His rival Gwythyr.
This is a question many religions have an answer to. One of the most obvious is Christianity with the traditions surrounding the death of Jesus. Within Paganism and Polytheism rites have been developed for many Gods (often grain Gods) including Osiris, Tammuz and figures such as John Barleycorn.
When I started worshipping Gwyn ap Nudd over ten years ago I found out on Calan Mai He fights a battle against His rival, Gwythyr ap Greidol, for His beloved, Creiddylad. Although it isn’t explicit within the source material (1) parallels with other seasonal myths (2) suggest that Gwyn, as Winter’s King, is defeated by Gwythyr, Summer’s King (3) at the turn of summer, ‘dies’, and enters a death-like sleep. He then returns at summer’s end to take Creiddylad to Annwn and assert His rule as Winter’s King.
For most Pagans and Polytheists Calan Mai / Beltane is a fertility festival. The rites of dancing of the May Pole, and crowning of a May / Summer King and Queen have a basis in the sacred marriage of Gwythyr and Creiddylad.
Even before I realised I was asexual I always felt like an outsider on Calan Mai. Whilst I enjoyed the white flowers and verdant energy I never got into the full swing of the celebrations (at least not without a large amount of alcohol).
Then I met Gwyn and found out this was the time of His death. I have now come to understand why it is bittersweet – finding joy in the new growth on the one hand and feeling His loss and commending His sacrifice on the other.
‘From the blood of the King of Annwn the hawthorn blossoms grow.’
Slowly, Gwyn has revealed to me visions of the mythos surrounding His death and ways of honouring it within my personal practice as a Polytheist.
It happens slightly differently every year but I present here a ‘core narrative’ and the rites by which I navigate this difficult time in my seasonal calendar.
On Nos Galan Mai I offer Gwyn a sprig of thyme for courage and recite my poem ‘If I Had To Fight Your Battle’ and then meditate on its meaning.
At dawn on Calan Mai I visit Him in spirit as He dons His armour and makes His way to ‘the Middle Ford’, Middleforth on the Ribble, which is the place within my local landscape where His battle takes place and there speak my farewells.
Later in the day I go for a walk and look out for signs of the battle of Gwyn and Gwythyr. I often see Them as warriors, animals, or dragons in the clouds. On one occassion I heard ‘We are the Champions’ playing at a May Day fair.
I place the sprig of thyme at the Middle Ford then look out for signs of Gwyn’s death.
Gwyn’s death takes place before dusk and I have felt it signalled by sudden cold, the coming of rain, and a feeling of melancholy. Once, when I was running, I got the worst stitch ever, like I’d been stabbed in the side, knew it was Gwyn’s death blow and received the gnosis His death was bad that time.
I pay attention to the hawthorn, a tree of Creiddylad’s, symbolic of Her return.
In my evening meditation I bear witness to Gwyn being borne away from the scene of battle by Morgana and Her sisters (4) who appear as ravens, crows, or cranes. They take Him and lay Him out in His tomb in the depths of His fortress in Annwn. His fort descends from where it spins in the skies (5) and sinks into the Abyss (6) to become Caer Ochren ‘the Castle of Stone’ (7).
I then join Morgana and Her sisters and other devotees from across place and time saying prayers of mourning for Gwyn and spend time in silence.
Three days later Morgana and her sisters heal Gwyn’s wounds and revive Him from death. This a process I have taken part in and was powerful and moving. He then remains in a death-like sleep over the summer months.
I would love to hear how other Polytheists honour the deaths of their Gods.
FOOTNOTES
(1) The medieval Welsh tale of Culhwch ac Olwen (11th C)
(2) Such as the abduction of Persephone by Hades in Greek mythology.
(3) Clues to Their identities as Winter and Summer Kings are found in their names Gwyn ap Nudd ‘White son of Mist’ and Gwythyr ap Greidol ‘Gwythyr son of Scorcher’.
(4) I believe Morgana and her sisters are Gwyn’s daughters through personal gnosis based on the associations between Morgana, the Island of Avalon, and Avallach, the Apple King, who I believe is identical with Gwyn and the possible identification of Morgan and Modron, daughter of Avallach.
(5) ‘the four quarters of the fort, revolving to face the four directions’ – ‘The Spoils of Annwn’.
(6) The existence of an Abyss in Annwn is personal gnosis.
(7) This name is not a direct translation (Marged Hancock translates it as ‘the angular fort’) but comes from Meg Falconer’s visionary painting of Caer Ochren ‘the cold castle under the stone’ in King Arthur’s Raid on the Underworld.
Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been blogging about my problematic relationship with technology as a source of distractions and my unhealthy habits surrounding compulsions to check emails and keep up with what is happening online.
After writing last Sunday about considering the possibility I might be able to check my emails once a day or even take a day off I realised what a huge hold this habit has over me and something within me said, “Enough. I’m not going to be ruled by this any more.” I made the decision to cut my email checking down to just twice a week, Wednesdays and Saturdays, and have managed it.
As part of the process I have spent some time reflecting on where it is coming from. As mentioned in a previous post I believe it to be caused by a combination of pernicious influences without and anxieties within.
I haven’t always had this habit. I didn’t have it when I was at university when I only had email traffic from tutors. I certainly didn’t have it at all when I was working with horses (when I worked in Hertfordshire and lived in a mobile home on the yard I could only check once a week on my employer’s computer!).
I believe it began around around 2011 when I started getting involved in local community groups such as South Ribble Transition Towns and a number of local poetry groups and in the latter took up a co-ordinating role. It got worse when I was also acting as editor for Gods & Radicals, so dealing with a lot of email submissions, then on top of that took a part time admin job at UCLan which involved a lot of emails and multi-tasking and left me very burnt out.
I had some time out after that and recovered a bit but didn’t address the problem of my anxiety as I was using alcohol several times a week to blank it out.
When I was volunteering in conservation and during this period gave up alcohol I began feeling better, but when I got paid work it involved more admin. When I was a trainee with the Lancashire Wildlife Trust I was doing my admin, including dealing with emails, 7 – 9am before my drive to the Manchester Mosslands to be onsite for 10am then driving back at 3pm to deal with the last of my admin 4 – 5pm. Having two hours of unpaid driving made for long days and I got very anxious about missing emails or not answering them correctly particularly in relation to plans for contract work.
Then, when I worked in ecology, I had to multitask a lot when I was in the office. Organising surveys often took as much work as doing them. Surveys for great crested newts and bats needed at least two and up to eight to ten people, with maps to be printed, meeting times and places arranged, all the equipment got together (there is a lot of equipment for bats!) and we were constantly having to rearrange with the weather and it was very stressful.
When I was writing an ecological report I had to keep my emails open to co-ordinate surveys and in case my employer sent me quotes to send out to clients and then to reply to clients about quotes as well and it was overwhelming.
After I resigned from that job, which left me very burnt out, instead of taking time to process what had happened I poured all my energy into my writing and escaped my feelings of failure by exercising and weekend drinking.
Since I came to Paganism and through it Polytheism I have been good at serving the land and my Gods through outdoor work and creativity but no good at looking after my mental health or working on my spiritual development.
That has begun to change as I have been drawn to Polytheist Monasticism, taken vows as a nun of Annwn, committed to becoming Sister Patience and been spending more time in meditation and contemplation.
I have come to believe that, if the mind is a whole, and is more than a thinking thing (the origin of the concept of ‘mind’ comes from the Greek psyche and means a lot more – ‘animating spirit’, ‘soul’,’ and comes from the root psykhein ‘to blow, breathe’*) then forcing it to do more than one thing at once is in opposition to its nature.
It’s common to see the mind referred to as a muscle. I believe it’s more than that, but let’s take that analogy. Trying to work a muscle in more than one direction at once is going to result in weakness and tears and an ineffective muscle.
I think that’s what’s happened to my mind. The last few years of doing a lot of both paid and voluntary admin work along with being part of the blogosphere and engaging with social media for short periods have weakened my mind, left me scatty, scattered, and far more prone to being dominated by my anxieties and prey to compulsions from within and without.
Identifying what ails me has helped me to see my solution lies with monasticism. The origin of this term is in the Greek monos, ‘one’, ‘single’, ‘alone’**. It might be seen as the practice of spending time alone, apart from secular society, off the Internet in order to recover the lost wholeness of our scattered pysches.
When I speak of alone I mean away from other humans – at least noisy ones – to better hear the voices of the land and the Gods and one’s own soul. Shifting our focus from the barrage of human noise on and offline to one thing – this might be praying to a God, meditating on a myth, spending time in nature, working on a novel, perfecting a poem, crafting a necklace or a shawl.
These practices feel very important to me at the moment as an antidote to the effect our increasingly technologised jobs have on our minds. I am currently in the privileged position of being to live as a nun until my savings run out with minimal online commitments such as running the monastery, sending material to my patrons, and maintaining this blog.
I feel like I’m well on my way to conquering my email and blog checking habits, having got them down to twice a week and having countered my fears of critcisms for not responding sooner with the knowledge that the people who matter to me respect I am a monastic and need to spend time offline.
Already I have seen improvements in my ability to focus in meditation, maintain the flow of my writing and be my more mindful when working in the garden. Small changes, I know, but steps towards healing my scattered psyche.
In the first two of his essays, ‘Four Questions Concerning the Internet’ (1) Paul Kingsnorth identifies the force behind the Machine (technology/the internet) as Ahriman, an evil and destructive spirit in the Zoroastrian religion (2).
He argues that ‘the sacred and the digital not only don’t mix, but are fatal to each other. That they are in metaphysical opposition.’ ‘The digital revolution represents a spiritual crisis’ and ‘a spiritual response is needed.’ As an aid to living through ‘the age of Ahriman’ he suggests the practice of ‘technological askesis.’ He notes that the Greek word ‘askesis’ has been translated as ‘self-discipline’ and ‘self denial’ and that asceticism forms the ‘foundation stone of all spiritual practices’. Its literal translation is ‘exercise’. ‘Asceticism, then, is a series of spiritual exercises designed to train the body, the mind and the soul.’
As a nun of Annwn in the making I can relate to much of what Kingsnorth is saying. As an animist and polytheist I perceive technology and the internet to be a living being with a will of its own although I’m not sure it can be reduced to one supposedly evil spirit. I tend to see it as the co-creation of many humans and many Gods, some more benevolent, some more malevolent. Unfortunately as the hunting ground of many malicious humans and non-human entities including the one I identified as the King of Distractions last week.
I personally do not agree with the statement that ‘the sacred and the digital don’t mix’ are ‘fatal to each other’ ‘in metaphysical opposition.’ I think their relationship is more complex and ambiguous. The internet can certainly steer us away from the sacred if we’re mindlessly scrolling or using it merely for entertainment. Yet it can help us deepen our relationship with the sacred if used mindfully to view content and engage in dialogue that is thoughtful and meaningful.
Without the internet I would not have managed to reach the small but much appreciated audience I have today through my blogging and my books. The Monastery of Annwn would not exist as a virtual space of sanctuary where members feel safe to converse on the deeper aspects of spiritual practice and we wouldn’t be able to hold on-line meditations and events.
Although I didn’t have a name for it ‘technological askesis’ is something I have been practicing for a while. Firstly by leaving social media. More recently by blocking off my time on week days from when I get up at 4am until around 3pm to focus on my spiritual practice and writing and only when I have done my deeper work answering emails and using the internet.
This has helped me to be more focused and less scattered. It hasn’t been easy – not being able to check my emails has been like an itch I can’t scratch and I’ll admit I’ve given in to checking them again at around 6pm ‘just in case there’s anything I need to deal with so I can relax for the evening.’ It’s possible next week I will set them back to 6pm so I only need to check them once and I might even try a day without checking them at all (!).
As I write this I see that going to such lengths and the amount of restraint I am having to use shows that I am under the sway of forces difficult to control within and without. I have an addiction to checking my emails and my blog and much of it comes from anxiety so might be labelled ‘email/blog anxiety’. I get anxious about ‘missing something’ or having one or more email or blog comment that is long or difficult to answer and getting overwhelmed. My checking is for reassurance – making sure ‘there are none there.’
Of course this is a bit silly as I have placed strict limitations on what I subscribe to and my communications and correspondences are usually from friends and thus friendly and encouraging and usually quite positive.
I think when tackling the internet the best way forward is being mindful of how we are relating to it in terms both of our inner impulses and the forces without. Of how we are using it and how it is using us. Of the complex net of relationships it has brought us into, friendly and unfriendly, human and non-human.
Ahriman’s nature is described by John R. Hinnel: ‘He is the demon of demons, and dwells in an abyss of endless darkness in the north, the traditional home of the demons. Ignorance, harmfulness, and disorder are the characteristics of Ahriman. He can change his outward form and appear as a lizard, a snake, or a youth. His aim is always to destroy the creation of [Ahura Mazda] and to this end he follows behind the creator’s work, seeking to spoil it. As Ahura Mazda creates life, Ahriman creates death; for health, he produces disease; for beauty, ugliness. All man’s ills are due entirely to Ahriman.’ HERE
‘The first time I saw an Athonite monk pull a smartphone out from the pocket of his long black robes, I nearly fell over backwards… the pit that appeared in my stomach when I first saw a monk on the Holy Mountain with one of those black mirrors in his hand came from an instinct I’ve long had: that the sacred and the digital not only don’t mix, but are fatal to each other. That they are in metaphysical opposition.’ ~ Paul Kingsnorth, ‘The Neon God‘
He sees a monk on mount Athos take a smart phone from his black robes and nearly faints in horror
whereas I run on – a nun of Annwn with an Apple watch on my wrist telling me when I have completed split one, split two, split three, the exact mileage I have done, my pace, how many calories burned, congratulating me when I close my move ring and exercise ring, teaching me to breathe by mimicking my breath with a cool blue cloud.
When I look into the black mirror I wonder whether it is a parasite or a companion,
a trustworthy advisor or a replacement for my body’s knowing.
I pose the question – IS TECHNOLOGY HOLY?
The black plastic reminds me of the primordial material, the dark matter of the womb from which the universe was birthed,
the cauldron from which spilled the elements that would make ion-x glass, liquid crystalline, an aluminium case, a polyester with titanium strap,
the lithium ion rechargeable battery
(from cobalt mined by children in the Congo).
By age, height, weight, gender, heart beat movement, workout type it measures whether my day has been a success.
Like counting the fall of apple, cherry or orange blossoms I wonder if it is beyond good and evil?
It keeps my horarium for now and warns me when the sun will be too hot and when my heartrate is too high
The Sanctuary of Vindos 