Restore Circulation

Avalon Needs a Funerary Siren, Not a Resurrection

In my view, what Avalon needs is not more Magdalenes, but funerary sirens.

Not more preservation of half-death, but simple rot, decay, and letting go.

The whole time I was in Avalon, I kept seeing sirens and mermaids swirling around the waters below, desperate to be let in. I didn’t know why – but now I do.

The funerary sirens are a mythic lineage like the mermaids. They are not necessarily banshees, luring one to death, or bean chaointe, the keening woman of Ireland, but rather a very specific type of caller at the threshold.

Do they call one to Death? Yes.

Come to Death with valour they say. Let whet is dead return to the flow.

This is frightening. But to the lost grief lineages, it is utterly necessary and deeply courageous.

The funerary siren is a near polar opposite to the Avalon Magdalene attempting to resurrect the King Arthur body of consciousness from its stasis.

The funerary siren, in contrast, would lament dead Avalon, weep and ocean of tears, and let it go.

What is dead is dead. Find the beauty in decay and putrefaction. Stop white knuckle clinging to the old timeline like a life raft, as if letting go of Avalon would mean the death of the sacred.

Trust the flow of the water. Trust that something new is better around the bend. Stop clinging and holding on. This is where stagnation occurs. This is where parasites enter. The living field of Reality wants to live. It wants to decay and rot and grow again.

THAT’S the Goddess.

And we restore Kinship with the land by restoring this indigenous grief tradition.

Mermaids are the oldest ancestresses of these isles, and they hold these cosmic grief mysteries.

Mermaids flow. They grieve. They lament. They are the KEENERS.

All the way down the Motherline, through the lineages, through the mitochondrial memory, mermaids are the last stop before the primordial sea. The queendom of Avalon itself had a queen named Guinevere, who came from a Welsh mermaid goddess Gwenhidw.

Mermaids sing in the waters – they move energy through the medium of the emotional water element. Energy in motion through song, that is their gift. Their ‘siren’ songs and laments, that is their keening for the land. They are incredibly important beings for the land’s health.

The Mermaids are the grief singers of the waters.

The ancient mermaids sing away the grief of the land into the salty waters bathing the coasts, into the lakes and streams and rivers, and the trees mingle with the water evaporating and condensing and falling as rain again. It is a healthy living design, and the mermaids and sirens were always a part of it.

The mermaids in Ireland and Wales and England are our mother kin, our ancestreses, the singers of the sea, the keeners of loss and alchemists of salty grief. We cannot escape the descent into watery grief.

The funeral sirens and the mournful mermaids can be seen as feminine monstrosities in the immensity of their emotion. But grief itself behaves like water. Tears have to move. If they cannot move, the inner waters become marshlike: longing, repetition, fantasy, waiting, replaying, asking when something will return.

Grief is kept stuck, in denial. Or worse, delusion. Limerence. Fantasy.

The mermaid and the funerary siren mythic grief lineages have the opposite approach. Like the bean sídhe (banshee) and keening women (bean chaointe) who share the same core role of ritual mourning and vocal lamentation for the dead in Irish tradition. They are disheveled, wild, at times frightening in the immensity of emotion, but they do something very important.

They restore circulation.

These feminine grief traditions return the center of gravity to the flow of life. The siren doesn’t rebuild Avalon. She grieves it and folds it back into cosmic time like timeline alchemy.

The siren is connected with death, yes. But death to her doesn’t equal evil. She isn’t trying to seduce the living man into her underworld, it’s the opposite. She is preventing the dead king from continuing to occupy the world of the living. She brings acceptance and the courage to move on.

The funerary siren is the one who has gone down into the stagnant waters to sing what is dead through them. She weeps into water. She sings the unsung lament, the terrible keen. She sings and calls the dead toward death. The mythic lineage of the funerary Siren is ritual grief. She gives death a voice.

Imagine singing: “Avalon is dead! And I am grieving it!” It’s a different movement entirely than resurrection.

There is no belief that Ordinary human love is beneath the Grail. Life is not organized around an absent exceptional masculine.

I see women talking about holding the Grail codes and about the King Arthur body of consciousness waiting to land on the shore. Once that ‘king’ energy lands in the men, they will have their Christ King, they say.

But King just comes from the word kin. Kinship with a land, belonging to a land. The ‘king’ is within us, in our connection to the old ways, our belongingness to indigenous wisdom of our kin.

When we are in deep kinship with the wisdom of the land, the sovereignty goddess and kingmaking rituals are remembered as unions with the wisdom of the land – the living field.

Guinevere, the wife of King Arthur, the foremother of the KIN, came from a prototype of a mermaid goddess, and a cosmic grief mystery lineage, and Artur came from a deeper cosmic lineage as well, one connected to bears, and divine rivers.

Kinship with these deeper stories comes from grieving. Grief opens up huge space.

Anchoring our center of gravity in a fallen timeline is heavy and unhealthy. Avalon is dead. It’s not coming back. Let what is dead die and stay dead.

Mourn. Sing. Keen. Lament.

Have the courage to push the funerary boat into the water, and let it disappear into the river of stars. Do not create hauntings, corpse brides, vampires or other unnatural things just because it’s sad to admit it’s dead.

The dead are sacred because they are ancestors – not because we are necromancers trying to break natural laws and revive the dead.

Let the king and kin go back to the stars. Let them become the star ancestors. Let them go home.

Put it on the boat, and let the spirit boat curve the bend of the river of time, let the siren song curve back towards the singer. Let the erotic magnetic body of water be its own source of gravity again. Let the waters flow. Let the past go.

The keening traditions, siren calls towards death, and mermaid laments served a purpose that our indigenous ancestral kin of these isles once knew. The grief mystery traditions created true freshness. We learned from the elementals how to work with salt, time, water, and love, and most importantly, how to not break natural laws.

At this point, resurrecting Avalon is breaking divine natural law. King Arthur is dead, and Magdalene cannot resurrect him.

As a siren woman, when I went to Glastonbury, I had to descend to give death a voice, or be consumed by unnatural vampiric things.

Death will clear the waters – not resurrection or immortality. We must compost timelines and allow them to flow along the river of time.

The Siren’s lament restores circulation. She sings into the stagnant waters of Avalon until they begin moving again. She has a death-angel quality. She stands on the boundary and sings:

Go home to the stars, my love. Marry the star river once more.

These cosmic grief mysteries require an initiation with the death goddess in the underworld. Old madame grief. As a follower of the cosmic grief mysteries, I have seen this in the mythos of the River Styx in the Eleusininan Mysteries, where initiates learn to drink from the lake of memory. I have also seen in at Knowth, which I see as a fae palace of the dead, while the River Boyne flows and tinkles and sings its river song that mirrors the Milky Way above.

The Irish had the bean chaointe and Scottish funerals featured mnàthan-tuirim (women of lament). These were often respected elder women who were paid to lead the community in public, cathartic grief. They composed improvised poetry over the corpse, detailing the deceased’s lineage and life.

This keening tradition, I believe, comes from the mermaids.

As I recall, the fae and mer lineages do water funerals. There is a moment, once the body is dressed in white shrouds and flowers and shells, the kin would push the boat down the shoreline and into the water. Fairy songs would be sung – siren calls and mermaids laments. Grief would flow through the waters, composting the timeline back into the flow. Let the salty tears of grief put love into the waters.

Most importantly – trust the call of the siren. The siren call contains the music of the spheres. The siren call is a form of passage for the dead. The siren call creates a frequency, like a portal of cosmic symmetry, a sonic passageway for the dead. A return to cosmic harmony.

If we let the Bear King fold back into the cosmic harmony, return as a star ancestor, it will help planetary energy grid anchor NEW frequencies. We need the stones and starlight to be willing to accept new energies. For constellations to pour down their cosmic frequencies into stones. It’s a new era. We must have faith that new life is better than resurrection of the dead.

Once this happens, immense psychic energy will be RELEASED and clear space for new timelines to emerge. New realties of being indigenous to the stars.

There are far older cosmologies to belong to. We are kin to bears, rivers, salmon, fish, time, cycles, stars – these are deeper themes than one time frame.

Let Arthur be dead and stay dead. He will become a star ancestor in Ursa Minor. A Bear King in the stars. Let him stay there. The Celtic cosmic bear and the cosmic salmon will guard the kin from the river of stars. We just have to let it go.

Cry the salt.

Keen the lament.

Let the waters of time spin over the wheel.

Let the dead be dead.

Move on.