Ancient Vows

The ancient vows controlling your life

I got new glasses.

The optician was kind, the test was quick, and I had fun choosing new frames…they look good. That’s the practical side sorted.

But something else happened before that appointment. I noticed a resistance in my body when my husband gently pointed out that I needed glasses. A sense that he was trying to get me to break a rule I didn’t know I’d made.

That’s when I recognised it. A geis.

Let me tell you about the geis, because it’s one of the most potent concepts from Celtic tradition, and almost no one talks about it.

What is a geis?

A geis (pronounced “gesh,” plural geasa) is a sacred bond created through words. In the old tales, a geis is placed on a person by a king, a druid, a poet, or a being from the Otherworld. It shapes their path, guides their choices, and holds tremendous weight in their life.

Most people think of a geis only as a prohibition-

  • Don’t eat dog meat
  • Don’t refuse hospitality
  • Don’t turn left at the crossroads
  • Break the geis and face disaster, madness, or death.

A geis can also be a promissory vow. A binding commitment to do something or be something. You must always give generously, never turn away a poet, protect the weak. These shape your identity just as powerfully as the prohibitions.

The most famous geasa

Cú Chulainn had multiple geasa. He must never refuse hospitality, and he must never eat dog meat. When an old woman offered him roasted dog at her fire, both geasa collided. He broke one, and his death soon followed.

Diarmuid had a geis never to hunt the boar of Ben Bulben. When Fionn manipulated him into doing exactly that, the boar’s tusk pierced him, and he died.

Conaire Mór, the High King, had so many geasa placed on him that his story reads like a tragedy waiting to happen.

  • Don’t go clockwise around Tara
  • Don’t let three red-haired men enter your house
  • Don’t hunt birds.

One by one, through fate and manipulation, every geis was broken. His kingship ended in flames.

The geasa shaped identity, tested character, and marked the boundaries of a person’s sovereignty.

The geasa we place on ourselves

Here’s what most modern people miss. We still do this.

We create silent geasa all the time. Vows we never spoke aloud but live by anyway. Rules that govern our choices, shape our identity, and restrict our path.

  • I must always be strong.
  • I must never ask for help.
  • I must never show weakness.
  • I must always know the answer.
  • I must never be a burden.
  • I must stay busy to have worth.
  • I must be the one who holds everything together.

These patterns woven from childhood, trauma, culture, and survival become the invisible architecture of your life.

And like the geasa of old, they carry power. They might guide you, protect you, or, if you’re not careful, they trap you.

How to recognise your own geasa

Here’s what I’ve learned through my work with the cauldrons and through my own stumbling path.

Your geasa live in the places where you react with surprising intensity. When someone suggests you take a break and you feel rage or panic, there’s likely a geis underneath. I must always be productive.

They live in the stories you defend without thinking. When change feels like betrayal of who you are, you’ve bumped into a geis. I must always be independent.

They live in the moments when you know something would help you, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. When asking for support feels impossible, there’s a geis in the way. I must never need anyone.

The Celtic tales show us something important.

You cannot simply ignore a geis. Pretending it doesn’t exist or pushing through it without acknowledgement only makes it stronger.

What you can do is bring it into the light. Name it. Examine it. Ask your guides to help you understand where it came from and whether it still serves you.

Some geasa are worth keeping. They’re aligned with your values and your sovereignty. They help you walk your path with integrity.

Others have become prisons. They were created in response to old wounds, and they no longer reflect who you are or who you’re becoming.

What invisible geasa are you living under?

What old vows are shaping your choices without your conscious agreement?

Take this to your guides. Ask them to show you one geis that’s ready to be examined. Not all of them, just one. See what comes up.

Then decide. Does this vow still serve you, or is it time to write a new one?

Comment below and tell me what you discover. I’m here for it.