Today I did galdr with Gebo.
As before, I smoked Großmutter Una to cleanse and prepare myself. As before, I did the prayers to prepare and flowed into a good, clean whole self when I did. Given it had snowed I had some concern I would not be able to handle the cold with the wind for very long, but I felt urged to go outside.
Breathing before the first round of galdr was sharp, but the wind had a kind of cleansing feeling to it as cold as it was. The cold bit the tips of my fingers and my ears. For a few moments all I could feel was that cold. As I breathed through, long and slow, I concentrated on Gebo, and galdred It in a long, warm tone. I felt like I was put before a hearth fire, someone welcoming me in. The exchange of greetings, a handshake, a seat offered. I spoke with the host, about what escapes me. The point, I think, was the exchange of hospitality for news and companionship. The proper respect between guest and host.
It was then I felt I had to go inside. My fingers were aching, and so were my ears. The wind was picking up. I went into the garage, my right hand tight around my pipe, taking long, slow, cleansing drags as I entered. I breathed and I was already warmer despite the garage not being heated. Thankfulness for shelter washed over me.
The next round of galdr was more deep, animal almost. The things we needed gained through trade, work, sacrifice. The warmth of my trenchcoat an animal’s skin, the pipe a tree’s body. The give and take of predator and prey, of farmer and field, of animal and slaughterer. Right relationship. That affirmation of right relationship sang to me throughout the galdr.
After I took several moments to cleanse and breathe, the third round of galdr began. The first of the three galdr was high in pitch, singing to the top of the Tree and the Gods, Ancestors, and vaettir, the Holy Powers, there. The next was milder, singing to the middle of the Tree and the Holy Powers there. The third was deep, bass, singing to the bottom of the tree and the Holy Powers there. Each world brought with it a flood of images, many I am still trying to sort out. What I do remember is a cup of mead, the blood of a blót, a bottle of beer poured on a field, water on a tree. Standing, kneeling, prostrating before different Holy Powers. Offering a blood sacrifice, a blót, to the Runes was the last thing I was left with as I finished the last galdr of Gebo.
As before, I made prayers of thanks to Rúnatýr and the Runevaettir. As before, I cleansed and then cleaned my pipe to come back to normal headspace. I am grateful for the cup of coffee my wife made me. Gebo between us.