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Gefjon’s Project Postponed

February 5, 2017 2 comments

With Superbowl Sunday hitting work like a Mack truck, my initial start is a bit fried.  Lots of overtime without a lot of time to write.  Between this, and the feeling like I need to wait for actual local signs of Springfield, I will do my best to pick up Gefjon’s month of poetry next month.

Yuletide Mead

November 28, 2016 2 comments

The mead brews

Slowly

Little bubbles flow up

The honey-water froths

Life begins

 

Bees’ labor

Water’s blessing

Yeast’s life

 

Kvasir’s blood

Gunnlöð’s charge

Odin’s drink

Aegir’s pride

 

 

A month and Yuletide

A gift to loved ones

 

A raised glass

A raised horn

Cheer and warmth in Winter

Mad World and Grief and Death

September 16, 2016 2 comments

I was clicking through one of my Youtube playlists, and came across one I have not listened to in a very long time.  When I am feeling at my lowest, I’ll queue up Gary Jules’ version of Mad World.  It is my go-to song for when I am feeling like things can’t get lower, and it made me start thinking about how we grieve.

I am part of the Polytheist Death Guild, and I think that part of my work with the Guild will be reflecting on death and grief as a polytheist, and how we can separate ourselves from the largely thanatophobic society we find ourselves in.  Mad World hits me in a way very, very few songs do.  It is completely absorbed in its loneliness and its pain, from the chords of the piano to the way that Jules’ forms his words.  It also made me reflect on why, when I am feeling low enough to warrant listening to this song, I wait until this song to work with it as a kind of purgative.

I first started listening to this song when Sylverleaf and I broke up in 2006.  I listened to this song on repeat for about a whole month.  Like when I get sick, when I grieve, I do it really, really hard.  It was to the point that the people I was living with more or less banned me from listening to it, because I’d sunk into a pretty bad depression and wasn’t taking care of myself much at all.  Mind, I didn’t see the movie this song released in, Donnie Darko, until several years later, so I had absolutely no context for the song.  I just happened across it, gave it a listen, and in my grief, kept playing it most of the spare time I had over and over again.  Reading some of the comments on the video itself, I’m certainly not alone in turning to this song in needing to feel pain, grief, and sadness.

Why, though, do we wait even in the little deaths to grieve, and why like this?

I think there are a few factors:

  1. A toxic emotional environment that downplays or outright denigrates displays of emotions, even healthy ones.
  2. This country does not want to think on, much less acknowledge death in a meaningful way.  For instance, much is made of Memorial Day and Veterans’ Day, but the celebrations have gone from largely somber affairs, and has been twisted into gaudy ways to sell furniture and celebrate empire via parades rather than actually being a time where we solemnly honor those who sacrificed life, limb, mind, and/or loved ones for this country.
  3. An actively toxic atmosphere in regards to feeling emotions at all, much less taking time to process them or taking time for oneself when being affected by them.
  4. Completely abhorrent mental health care in terms of preventative/therapeutic medicine, and direct addressing of psychological breaks, trauma, etc.  There is active cutting going on in the overworked departments of the mental health care field despite needing expansion and reinforcement.
  5. Many of us do not belong to cultures that encourage grief, displays of emotions, or expression of how we, ourselves, feel.

I see this shutting down as an outgrowth of our culture in the sense of toxic masculinity and American culture’s inability to handle genuine, expressed emotion that is lived in the moment.  The usual memes of ‘stiff upper lip’ and ‘keep on keeping on’ were ways I was told to handle the grief I was in the midst of.

These are part of the same toxic soup that contributes to grief welling up inside and needing to break through, regardless of how healthy it is.  I was not in a place that encouraged healthy grief.  In fact, I was actively encouraged to look for a new relationship, and was shoved towards one within a month or two of breaking up with Sylverleaf.  Not only was my relationship with this person unhealthy in its formation, I also delayed my grieving and healing that I needed to do.

If this is how we treat folks breaking up, how much worse is it for those whose loved ones pass away?  The old adage of ‘time heals all wounds’ paled in comparison to losing my grandfather.  It seemed like a slap in the face.  Sure, my grandpa could communicate with me in a number of ways, including directly, but it is not the same as having grandpa in my life.  Then there’s the “I need to be strong for my ___” idea, which both robs the person trying to be strong of their need and time to grieve in the moment, and also robs the person they are being strong for of being a helpmeet for them in turn with their grief.  In other words, it denies Gebo (gift-for-a-gift) in the grieving itself, and in the healing process, between those who the grief itself affects.

How can my son learn healthy ways of grieving if I refused to show him what that looks like?  How can he feel safe in bringing me his woes if I cannot show him they are nothing to be ashamed of, and that experiencing loss and reacting to it is part of living a full, and healthy life?  To this end we brought our son to mark the passing of our cat, A., who died about two years ago.  He was told why our furbaby was being put to sleep, he was walked through just as we were in what would happen, and he was able to grieve there and as he needed after.

This would be our son’s first witnessed death, and we wanted this moment to be as comfortable and sacred for our cat, and in so doing, make it as comfortable and sacred a thing to witness for us as a family, for our son seeing death for the first time.  Seeing death is an initiation, one we would do well to take more care in.

We brought our cat’s brother along, K., and allowed them to be around one another as A. was being hooked up for the drugs that would end his pain.  We each got a chance to hug him, tell him we loved him, pet him, kissed him, and hold him for awhile.  When everything was ready, we made prayers, weeping the whole while, and asked Freya and Bast to take him gently into Their arms and help him cross over. We thanked him for his time with us, and that we would keep his memory.  We told him we loved him as he shut his eyes for the last time.  When he lay still, we wept, and we were loud.  Well, I was.  We were holding each other, and were crying without shame.  Sylverleaf had taken him in at a year old, and though I certainly was not a cat person when we met, A.’s brother pushed me to becoming one about 3 or 4 years ago.  He was our cat, and we grieved his passing.

Even now, remembering him as the barbiturates took him into death, my throat tightens and tears tug at my eyes.  Yet, it was the best send off we could have given him.  I am not grieving his death itself, but missing his presence in our lives, and how he could light up a room with his inquisitiveness, or make us smile when he threw himself into our laps for petting.  How he had this bad habit of being underfoot when we needed him not to be.  We asked for a piece of his fur, which lays on the animalvaettir shrine on top of his paw casting and ashes.

In talking about A.’s death, it makes talking about my grandpa’s death easier.  It is unfortunate our son did not get to talk with him before he passed, but at the least, they had met.  He was in the hospital, and a cousin had me up on Google Hangout Video Chat.  It had been a few years since I had last seen my grandpa, and I knew from talking with my Dad that he was nearing his death.  Still, when I saw how small and sick he looked I damned near broke down crying on the spot.  I was gritting my teeth and trying not to wail.

My Mom took the phone from my cousin, and told me I needed to get it together for grandpa.  Grandpa wasn’t one who wanted us to grieve him.  He said as much while he was dying.  I took myself away from the phone for a bit, shed a few tears, collected myself, came back, and talked with him.  I let him know, cradling the phone in the basement of the Wandering Owl, that I loved him and that I missed him.  He looked to be in such pain, and I had never seen him so small, so vulnerable.  Grandpa was a guy who fixed everything, and was rarely in one place when I was a kid.  It hit me right in the heart to see him like that.  Still, he knew me, and could say he loved me, and knew who I was, and that itself is a privilege.  I told him I would pray for him, and he asked me to pray for his wife and the family.  I told him I would, and that evening, I did.

I did not think about it at the time, but the last words I said to him were “I love you grandpa.  We’ll speak soon.” when I let him go.  Whether when I was a Catholic or now as a polytheist, my religion tells me our Ancestors are hardly silent, and can offer us companionship and guidance.  Still, this was the first grandparent I had had a good relationship with and was losing.  So that evening, with the help of my Kindred, I grieved him.

The Catholic Ancestors were around me, getting Themselves ready to welcome him, and there for me, too.  The local Catholic church had closed for the evening.  However, I remembered something from a post on Galina’s website.

I saw more than one person kneeling on cobblestones outside of churches, when the church was locked but the person wanted to pray before that altar, or that icon.

I remembered somewhere, perhaps from the Ancestors Themselves, that one way to pray when the church was closed like this, was to pray the rosary at each step of the church, and to kiss the church doors.  I carry my First Communion rosary and the Book of the New Testament, Psalms, and Proverbs I was given then for my Catholic Ancestors.  I use the book to do bibliomancy and receive messages from Them. I prayed the rosary on each step for my grandfather, in offering to his spirit and the spirit of my Ancestors, and asked Hela with each step to make his transition into death as painless as possible.  I sang songs I remembered from when I was a child, and felt my Catholic Ancestors all around me.  When I had finished, I sat on the bench near the church, and smoked in prayer to my other Ancestors, and to Mordgud, Garm, and to Hela Herself.

That Sunday after his death I went to a Catholic church service near me, and walked the Stations of the Cross outside among the pine trees.  When I came to the central garden labyrinth, I walked it, and left offerings as I asked His God to shepherd him, and to care for him, and to let him speak with me when he was settled.  I made offerings at the shrine for St. Francis de Assisi, and at St. Joseph’s, asking the same.  I returned home and felt at peace.

I will not be putting his image on the Ancestors’ altar until a full year has passed from his death, which is soon.  This is in respect to him and so that when his image or an object of his is placed on the altar, he has had a chance to adjust to being dead and will not be hungry or confused.

As polytheists develop closer community ties, intergenerational ones especially, we need to speak and make our plans about death and the process of dying, how we grieve, and what we do for the dead.  It’s my hope that this post is one point of dialogue that touches this off.

Me?  When I think about what I would like done when I die, I do not want to suffer.  I do not want to linger in endless pain.  I want to leave my loved ones with the ability to say goodbye, as my grandfather did.  When I am dead, I want to be cared for by my family.  I want a rite that gives people a chance to mourn and a chance to celebrate.  To pour out tears and mead.  To comfort and cry, to laugh and enjoy each others’ company.  To drink in stories, to sing songs, to talk about the good times and the bad.

I want to be buried on my family land in a hallowed mound.  I want a tree planted on it, one that will last generations.  Maybe plant a whole grove by each person who gets moved in getting a new tree planted for them.  A boulder before it, maybe with a flat top, for offerings, for meeting, for divining.  For saying hi.  A runestone with our names, maybe scenes from our life if someone has the skill.  A new boulder for when that one is full so others’ stories can be passed down.  Whatever it is, I want it to not just be for me, but for my loved ones.  My tribe, my family.

Prayers for Sunna and Mani by Kiba

July 25, 2016 4 comments

Our son wanted me to share his prayers for Sunna and Mani here.  He wrote the prayer to Mani first.  When he wrote it, he surprised me.  When he had finished that, I encouraged him to write a prayer for Sunna the next day, but aside from that, I had no input on them.  I got to let him be while he wrote them.  I’m very proud of him.  ^_^

 

Prayer to Mani by Kiba

 

Guider of the moon’s path

Rider of the moon-cart

Drawn by Your large dogs.

Hail Mani! God of the moon! Light our path

While shining on even

The darkest of nights.

 

 

My prayer to Sunna by Kiba

 

Melter of the thick ice

Evaporator of streams and lakes

And rivers and oceans too.

Today is one of many days

In the season where you

Shine your light upon us humans.

Hail Sunna! Goddess of the

Light that helps our food grow.

Thank you for the life that you have given us.

On Purification and Cleansing

July 8, 2016 1 comment

I took a week off of social media, and I included my blog here at WordPress for that time.

It was a good time, coming right off the heels of Sacred Firetending at Michigan Paganfest.
It really made me think, though, about a lot of things.  Not the least of which is the time I waste on social media.  Now, a lot of my writing here?  That tends to be time well-spent because I am sussing things out, writing devotional poetry and other works, or otherwise devoting time to my Gods, Ancestors, and/or vaettir.

My time away made me realize just how fucked up social media is, when you get down to brass tacks.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I do a lot of networking on it that is not only useful, but downright necessary to interact with the folks in my Kindred as well as the larger Pagan community.  However, what I am really coming to grips with is how damned sick, lacking a better term, social media is.  When something takes off, it takes off like a virus.  After all, a post, a picture, a video gaining mass popularity is called ‘going viral’ for a reason.  If it is incorrect information, it spreads the wrong information and it infects all those who take it in as fact.

This is where inoculation or sanitation and treatment come in, or, in terms polytheists would be more familiar with, purification and cleansing.  We purify a space so that it is cleansed of vaettir (spirits), and likewise, any magic or spiritual force that would seek to do us harm or disrupt the ritual, ceremony, etc. we are about to perform.  We purify a space, such as a vé (sacred place; it might have an altar or be a natural thing, such as a boulder or tree, etc.), hörgr (a stone vé, sometimes stacked, or an altar of stone).  We cleanse ourselves and any objects we would seek to bring into this space so we are in a state that is clean for the same reason as purification.  If you are facilitating a ritual, it is likely you have cleansed yourself and any things that you are bringing into the area, then purified the space.

These procedures are recognizable to anyone who works in healthcare: your inoculation makes you resistant to diseases that can harm your patients and yourself, your hand-washing prevents you from spreading disease, and your personal hygiene prevents you from becoming sick.  If you refuse to do these things you are not doing your due diligence to those in your care.  That is not to say that sickness is completely unavoidable.  It is not, just as impurity in sacred space does happen.  It is also not to say that sickness is morally wrong; it is not.  It simply is.  However, it is our obligation, whether healthcare or in religious matters, for us to do our due diligence so that those in our care are as healthy as can be.  A ritual leader who refuses to do purification and cleansing work is analogous to a doctor who refuses to be sanitary.

Of course, there are folks out there who will say I am being dramatic about this.

If we take our religions, and our roles within them seriously, then this kind of preparation to erect or inhabit a sacred space should be normal.  There may be exceptions to this rule, i.e. polytheist religious paths I have not come across that do not carry out purification rites in general or for specific workings because it would be detrimental to the rite, working, etc.  I am not speaking to these.  The polytheist religions I have been in or had contact with carry similar enough ritual protocols for these to be general, such as cleaning yourself physically and spiritually before a ritual, or if you do not have time for a shower, at least doing some kind of cleansing work, whether a simple ritual of washing the hands, sprinkling water on one’s head, passing fire about the place and one’s body, and so on.

If I am to carry out a ritual, it is my Gebo to the Gods, Ancestors, and vaettir that I am a living example to those in the ritual.  I need to be clean in body, mind, and spirit.  I need to show good protocol for engaging with the Gods, Ancestors, and vaettir.  As much as the ritual actions are my role in the ritual, so too is my living example.  If someone is coming to me for divination I need to be clean and the sacred space it takes place needs to be clean.  My obligation to the shamans, diviners, Rune-workers, Runemeisters, the Runevaettir, and Odin Himself is to do the work and do it well, whether that work is the preparation before the reading, the reading itself, or any work that occurs coming from the reading.  To do this, I need to have good signal, and to have good signal I and the space need to be clean for the reading.  Whatever my role, I owe this Gebo,this obligation of doing the prequisite work well to those who came before me in these roles, to my Elders, Disir, Väter, Ancestors, and so on.  I also owe this Gebo to the Gods, Ancestors and vaettir to do this work well, not just for the work present in the moment, but to provide an ongoing living example of the work in action.  

In order to do well, to be excellent, the foundation must be cared for.  The foundation of good religious work is to do the prerequisite work well.  This includes the education one needs in order to be an informed participant in the religion, and the carrying out of one’s role in the religion that arises from that knowledge.  It is not some out-of-reach perfection I am talking about here either, nor am I talking merely about the role ritual leaders hold in being ritual pure or helping to make purified religious space.  The foundations of religious work are carried by everyone in that religion.  Purification and cleansing are part of those foundations so we enter into sacred space clean and well, so that the Gods, Ancestors, and vaettir are prayed to, offered to, experienced, and understood well.  Purification and cleansing help us to keep these things clean so that what we do and pass on is healthy for our religions, our communities, our tribes, our Kindreds, our families, and ourselves.

A Vision in Storm

June 16, 2016 3 comments

I went outside and there were Gods and spirits dancing.

The storm-etins danced among the thunderbirds

Thor and Farbauti struck through the air

Odin whirled overhead

I smoked, offering up prayers to all of Them

As I did I saw:

Lightning illuminated the Raven

It tore at the cloud-man’s guts

The intestines roping out of him

The Raven gorged

I saw a bolt of lightning and it croaked like a Raven

Calling

I looked to my left and there was a great Wyrm

Open mouthed in the lightning-light

It twisted through the air, wings wide

The thunder was not Its voice, but the clap of its wings

As it flew along the East

Swift

Prayers for the Harmed and Murdered of Orlando, FL

June 12, 2016 4 comments

May Eir and Mengloth bless those in harm’s way

May the healers be careful, skilled, and compassionate

 

May Thor protect those in harm’s way

May the communities be safe from harm, secured by His Hammer

 

May Loki, Angrboda, and Sigyn bring laughter, protection, and perseverance

May mirth, solidarity, and determination lift up those harmed and grieving in this tragedy

 

May Tyr and Forseti bring justice to the Dead, to the families, to all those harmed

May justice be done, lawful and swift

 

May Freyr, Gerda, and Freya bring Their love, sensuality, and vitality

May we celebrate ourselves together, and with Them, stand by those we love

 

May Odin and Frigga bring wisdom to the leaders

May action be guided by wisdom, may work be guided by insight

 

May Hela take up the Dead

May She bring Them comfort and care

 

May the Landvaettir be heard

May They, too, have justice, and may Their needs be met

 

May The Dead hear the calls of Their loved ones

May They know They are remembered, and may those They left behind be comforted

 

May the newly-Dead be long-remembered

May They be remembered for more than Their deaths; may Their lives be remembered well

 

 

 

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