A Temple Wild Podcast Episode 7: The Nymphs of Ancient Greece https://atemplewild.com/podcast/nymphs Transcript You're listening to A Temple Wild: Episode 7: The Nymphs of Ancient Greece Hello and welcome to A Temple Wild, where we rediscover the myths of the ancient Greeks through the plants and landscapes that shaped them. My name is Ekstasy and in today's episode we're going to be discussing the nymphs of ancient Greece. In mainstream Greek mythology, meaning the stories that most people know about the ancients, I think the nymphs often take a backseat to the Olympian gods. They are beautiful maidens, usually seen accompanying the gods or playing minor roles in the famous myths. But for those of us who are seeking a deeper connection with Nature, and with the Mediterranean landscape specifically, I think the nymphs are actually in fact the most important beings of ancient Greek myth and plant lore. So what are they, really? Simply stated, they are nature spirits. They are responsible for growing, nurturing, and guarding the natural habitats, plants and animals within their realm. They are often associated with a specific mountain or a forest, a meadow or marsh, a freshwater source or the sea, or other natural region that occurs in the landscape. And they are also often tied with specific trees, plants, or even insects. There are unique names for the different types of nymphs: naiads are freshwater nymphs, nereids are spirits of the sea, oreiads are conifer nymphs, melissae, as you'll remember from an earlier podcast episode, are bee nymphs, there are dozens of names for different types of nymph...but despite their many names, all nymphs do seem to share a few characteristics, the most important one being that they are local entities, their essence and function is intimately tied to the very specific place that they inhabit. So in the ancient lore, they are not usually found in cities, nor worshiped in temples; instead, they are entities of the wild places, of the mountains and the hills where hunting or herding or beekeeping took place. Their shrines are found in caves or by freshwater sources where shepherds might take their flock to drink or rest, or where bees might build their hives. And for this reason, the nymphs, when linked to stories of the Olympian deities, they are most often associated with pastoral or rural gods, like Pan, Dionysos, or Hermes. But the nymphs are not immortal; they die when their tree dies, they become ill if their waters are contaminated. Their health and vitality is dependent on the health and vitality is completely dependent on the health and vitality of the land. According to Homer, the nymphs are daughters of Zeus, but in other stories, they are children of Achelous, a river located in western Greece. Achelous was considered the eldest son of Okeanos, the great earth- encircling river, and he is often depicted as a bull with a horned man's head, bulls being a symbol of fertility and power, a great river rushing forth and nourishing the land. But it's very likely that the nymphs were not actually lesser children of great gods, but actually local deities themselves, before the arrival of the gods and goddesses of Olympos. So in some places, it seems that the worship of Artemis even may have replaced the honoring of local nymphs, much like the worship of Christian Saints replaced the local nature spirits on the Celtic islands of Ireland and Great Britain. And so the celebration of the Greek nymphs is quite possibly one of the oldest ways that we have of connecting with the wild landscapes of the ancient Mediterranean. I want you to imagine for a moment that you are walking on the side of a mountain in Greece. It's summertime, the spring wildflowers have died back to create a yellow, dry and crispy blanket on the hillside. The path is dry and dusty, the sun is hot on your back, and you can smell the sun- warmed herbs along the path releasing their scent into the air. You come to a curve in the path where the trees suddenly thicken and you climb down a small slope to a stream lined with plane trees, small oaks, and black poplar. Immediately, the temperature drops and you breathe easier, the air is shaded and moistened by the green canopy. Following the stream a ways, you find an entrance to a small cave and step inside, lowering yourself to sit just inside its entrance. And here, you drink from a small spring the drips from the rock. You listen to the trickling of the water. You smell the damp soil and lush herbs. You hear the gentle humming of bees. And you are lulled into a peaceful state that is both grounding and expansive, a divine trance that heightens your senses and opens your heart to inspiration, to creativity, to a deeper connection with both your body and with the Nature that surrounds you. This is one of the most sacred places to encounter the nymphs: near fresh water springs or inside caves, where the area is lush, green, and shaded, where the bees buzz and the waters flow. The Greek name for a nymph of a freshwater spring is "naiad" and the word itself has its roots in the term nao, meaning to flow. For the ancients, water is a sacred element, a source of inspiration, of healing, and of prophecy. And even the Muses were most likely naiads, nymphs of the flow of creativity and divine revelation. Nympholepsy is a term used to describe this state of heightened awareness and the clear, inspired speech that often comes from being in close proximity to the nymphs. The ancient Greeks did not fear these altered states of consciousness: instead they saw trance states and Nature-induced rapture as a form of divine madness, a direct connection with the gods and the forces of Nature. It's interesting to note that in modern Greek Christian folklore, there are similar stories of the nymphs imparting a kind of madness upon those they encounter, but with a twist: so the nymphs, who were once sacred and honored spirits of the wild have now been transformed into local demons who lure women away from their families, snatch away children, or make solitary men "stricken" with madness. Much like the old Celtic faeries, they are not to be trusted and are a source of fear. And I wonder about this: how Nature has been transformed in the Greek collective unconscious from a place of wild inspiration and divine connection, to a source of fear, danger, and pathologized madness. So instead, I turn my attention back to the ancients who revered the earth, who trusted a connection with Nature and the inspiration and clarity that comes from direct connection to the plants, waters, and mountains. I am reminded of the Melissae, the oracular Bee nymphs who taught Apollo the art of divination, as well as Daphne, the Bay Laurel nymph of Mount Parnassos who was very likely the first Pythia at Delphi, before Apollo's arrival. In both cases, the Bees and the Bay Laurel are called upon as a means for communicating prophecy, wisdom, and truth. And so the nymphs, particularly the Naiads, the Melissae, and the Bay Laurel, can be visited, honored, and connected with whenever you need clarity of thought, eloquence, creative inspiration, or prophetic earth wisdom. If you're interested in hearing more techniques for connecting with those nymphs, be sure to listen to the podcast episode Daphne and Apollo, as well as The Melissae. But of course there are countless other types of nymphs with whom you can cultivate a connection: The nereids, who protect and dwell in the sea, waves, the current, sea- foam, sea rocks, and sand. They are often acting as a guardian to fisherfolk and sailors, seafarers and sea travelers. The okeanides, who very similar to the naiads, in that they protect and dwell in rainclouds, underground rivers, freshwater springs, streams, rivers, waterfalls, lakes, and marshes. There's the dryads, who protect and dwell in trees, woodlands, and groves. And although the term dryad has come to mean any tree nymph, it is also specifically used for nymphs of the oak tree, while other names are associated with other types of trees, such as oreiad for coniferous trees, daphni for the bay laurel, aigeiros for black poplar, ptelea for elm, syke for fig and many, many more. And, of course, there are the maenads, who may have been nymphs or they may have been mortal followers of Dionysos, but we'll be talking more about them in our next podcast episode about the sacred Ivy vine. And so until next time, I want to invite you to wander through the mythic Greek landscape, if not in person, then in your mind's eye. Connect with the nymphs: the local plants, the flowing waters, the very essence of the land. Sit with the trees and listen to the dryads speak. Bathe in the sea and feel the flow of the nereids around you. Sit by a stream and let the naiads inspire you. If you've enjoyed this episode, I hope you'll share it with your friends. If you're interested in becoming a regular patron, or to make a one-time donation to support the show, feel free to visit atemplewild.com for more details. 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