Painting of Mis by Miriam Zayneb
In the fragmented landscape of Irish mythology, the figure of Mis (sometimes Mís or Mise) appears briefly but with striking resonance. Her story, preserved in early medieval texts, reflects themes of loss, transformation, and the boundary between civilisation and the natural world.
Mis was the daughter of Dáire Dóidgheal, a powerful European King who set out to invade Ireland. He landed with his army in County Kerry, and a fierce war followed for a year and a day. Dáire was eventually killed by the warrior Fionn mac Cumaill and the battle was lost. Upon discovering her father’s dead body on the battlefield, Mis was overcome by grief. Her response was to leave the human world entirely. She fled into the woods, becoming feral —living off the land and attacking anyone who came near her.
In time, she was regarded not just as a woman in mourning but as a wild figure — untamed and outside the structures of community and custom. It was said that people became too afraid to go near her home in the mountain (now known as Sliabh Mis) so the King sent his best warriors to try to kill her, but she ended all of them.
The story continues with the arrival of Dubh Ruis, a bard. Rather than confronting her with force, he engaged with her through poetry and story. Over the course of several days, he is said to have gently reintroduced her to language and human connection. Mis eventually returned to the human world and became his wife.
The Four of Cups
In the traditional imagery of the Four of Cups, a solitary figure sits beneath a tree, arms crossed or limp, gazing at three cups before them. A fourth cup is offered — sometimes from a cloud — but the figure is unresponsive, eyes downcast. It is not a card of action, but of pause. Of being stuck between what once was and what might be. The mysterious fourth cup — offered from an unseen hand — represents an emotional or spiritual gift. It may be an idea, an invitation, a connection, or an insight.
The Four of Cups is a card of inner saturation. It often appears when someone has had enough — of noise, of emotion, of external demands. It signals a time when the heart has turned inward to process, or to protect itself. There may be apathy, melancholy, or simply the need to step back and recalibrate.
After discovering her father’s body on the battlefield, Mis does not weep within the rituals of her community. She leaves. Her grief pulls her away from language, from people, and from identity. She becomes wild, living in the woods beyond the reach of custom. The Four of Cups often shows us this very pattern: when the heart is numbed by disappointment or grief, the soul may retreat. Not necessarily in despair, but in suspension. Something must shift internally before connection can be restored.
In the legend, it is the poet Dubh Ruis who enters Mis’ wilderness — not to rescue her, but to witness her. He brings story, rhythm, and presence. Slowly, she begins to return to language, to selfhood. The Four of Cups invites us to honour the still space — the moment before action, the space between longing and response. It reminds us that new possibilities may already be forming at the edges of awareness, even if we are not ready to accept them yet.
The Four of Cups reminds us that stillness has meaning. That periods of disengagement may be part of the emotional landscape — not obstacles to be pushed through, but sacred ground to be honoured. Mis, through her story, becomes an emblem not of weakness, but of what it means to sit with grief until the self is ready to speak again.
Sources
Lysaght, Patricia, "Traditions of the Banshee", in Miranda Green & Sandra Billington (ed.), The Concept of the Goddess. Psychology Press, 1996. p.158
Metrical Dindshenchas, volume 3, p. 203.
Monaghan, Patricia. The Encyclopedia of Celtic Mythology and Folklore. Infobase Publishing, 2004.
Ó hÓgáin, Dáithí. Myth, Legend & Romance: An encyclopaedia of the Irish folk tradition. Prentice Hall Press, 1991.
I can’t believe that I’m just seeing this! But that was quickly changed into tears because I have been in that separation place. I wasn’t ready to be seen. I so relate to Mis, and reading this thoroughly reconnected it. I’m glad when I came out of my solitude, my grieving for so much, that this was here to greet me, saying, “I understand.” ❤️❤️❤️😭❤️❤️❤️
I love this work Regina. Totally right on!
I love this, Regina. The last paragraph went straight to my heart and made me a little fearful. I feel like there are “entities” at the margins of my current, just out of view. I think I need a reading soon. Thank you!!!