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The #DoMagick Challenge Day 24

January 3, 2018 2 comments
Othila

Othala (Wikimedia Commons)

Today I did galdr with Othala.

Today I was distracted internally quite a bit.   I did extra cleansing, and emphasized deep breathing even more, doing deep breath work up to nine times in a row before moving on between parts of the galdr work, and 9 times between each round.  It did the trick.

In the first round of galdr, the first part I experienced with an ancestral home of some kind, possibly ancient Ancestors as I did not recognize the landscape at all except that there was a grove or forest on the land.  The land was mostly plains or expanses of grazing area.  I felt very at home there despite the lack of a standing home.  I remember some kind of mountain or rocky outcropping nearby.  The next part of the galdr I experienced standing before an Ancestor’s grave.   Then, as I looked at the grave, the land around me changed and I found myself standing still but the scene around me changing, as though someone had hit ‘shuffle’ and was standing in a lot of different graveyards simultaneously.  The last part of the first round I was standing outside in my grove at the home I’ve lived at most of my life.

In the second round of galdr, the first part I felt compelled to sing with a high note, and suddenly felt the crush of Disir around me.  I knew some of Their voices, and heard others’.  The next part of the round I had an even tone, and Ancestors of my lines came forward, all speaking excitedly, some talking to each other.  The last part of the second round, I sang the Rune in a deep, resonating voice, and the Väter arrived, in similar fashion to the Disir.  It was being utterly surrounded by the Ancestors…and it felt very warm, familiar, and safe while also feeling like a bit of a kick in the ass.  In this month I will start doing small, 5-15 minute sessions of prayer each day for the Ancestors.

In the third round of galdr, the first part I saw how to bring landvaettir into one’s own fold.  Making oneself and the particular landvaettir or landvaettr part of each other’s Ancestral lines.  I will not describe what I saw or how to do it here.  It seems…improper to do.  The next part of the third round I saw how to honor landvaettir of the place one lives in, especially land that is inherited and is truly Ancestral land.  In the last part of the round, I saw how to inter the Dead into the land, to bring the land and the Ancestors together in the mound.

I did quite a bit more cleansing with the Sacred Fire and a few more prayers than usual this time around.  When I came out of the Runework headspace, I felt quite clean, and very good.

Link to the Daily Ritual for the Challenge.

#DoMagick

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Submissions to Odin’s Agon

December 31, 2017 Leave a comment

For Óðrerir’s Brewer

You kindled in me a love for brewing
Water, honey, yeast
Sacred magic, old magic

Kvasir’s brood, your spit

Relaxing and maddening

Teasing out the ties
Inspiration strikes
Fury froths

Growling forth from each sip, each gulp

May each brew be a worthy working

Each bottle a sacred vessel

Each glass a welcome offering

Alliterative Poem to Odin

Wind and wound

Scream and spell

Health and harm

Scar and sense

Wrath and release

Power and purpose

Grey and gold

Eye and iron

Hanged and hale



Making Midgard


When the Sons of Borr took up the spear

No ravens flew or wolves roamed

Nifelheim was far too cold

Muspelheim far too hot

They dreamed of more than ice and mist, fire and smoke

A World teaming with life, with warmth and with cold

A World full of flowing waters and rain

A World between the the Worlds

So when They slew Ymir

The Sons of Borr took up the best of all Worlds to make Midgard

Fire from Muspelheim gifted by Surtr

Ice from Nifelheim taken from Ymir

Fertility from Vanaheim gifted by Freya, Freyr, and Njordr

Wildness from Jotunheim made by the Jotnar

Riches from Svartalfheim dug deep by the Dvergar

Liminality from Alfaheim made by the Alfar

Death from Helheim overseen by Hela

Potential from the Ginnungagap woven by the Nornir

Within the Middle Yard each World was woven to the others

Crafted with care by the Sons of Borr

Remembering the Warrior Dead

November 2, 2017 Leave a comment

You lie in a fen
Shield cloven beside you
Sword bent

You lie in a field
Gun beneath you
Magazine empty

You lie in a mound
Spear beside you
Descendants gathered

You lie in a grave
Polished oak embraces you
Quiet rest

You lie in every soil and water
Every place given your body and blood
All hail the Warrior Dead

Here We Have Stood, Here We Stand

August 20, 2017 3 comments

When people ask where the Heathens and  Northern Tradition Pagans are denouncing racism, I will remind folks there’s plenty of us that have been here, for years, doing just that.

Let me be clear: The Valknut is not theirs.  Mjölnir is not theirs.  The Runes are not theirs.  The Valknut is Odin’s.  Mjölnir is Thor’s.  The Runes are Their own, symbols of the very vaettir (spirits) of Creation who were in the Ginnungagap (Yawning Mouth, Primal Void) until Odin died, sacrifice of Himself to Himself, took Them up and brought Them forth.  These are sacred.  When white nationalists take up these symbols, use them to further their ideology, to further their brand of hate, they appropriate them and denigrate them.  

Fuck the racists, the Nazis, and the white nationalists who take up symbols of the Gods, the Ancestors, the Runevaettir, the vaettir, and the ways within the Northern Tradition and Heathenry.  Fuck the racist, Nazi, and white nationalist scum.

Wherever and whenever you can, deny the racists, the white supremacists, and the white nationalists these symbols as theirs.  Do not let the only time someone sees the symbols of our religions be on their flags, or in their rallies.  Do not let the only time someone hears of Heathenry or the Northern Tradition be at their rallies, riots, or press releases.  

Wear your symbols proudly whether on your neck, your arm, or your flesh.  Speak out and loud where you may.  Do what you can where you can. Be a living example of the good of our religions, our ways.  Be a living example, and let our Gods, Ancestors, and vaettir be well-represented and well-known.  

For blog posts I have made relevant to these issues, look here:

Why Racism Harms Heathenry

White Guilt is an Indulgence

The Northern Gods Are Not White

Open to Questions Year 3

July 25, 2017 4 comments

I am once again looking for topics to write on, so if you, or someone you know, wants me to dig into a topic let me know.

Ask questions!  They can be on anything related to the Northern Tradition, Heathenry, polytheism, animism, Gods, Ancestors, vaettir (spirits), shamanic work, priest work, spirit work, definitions, lore, etc.

The Hospital Dead

June 11, 2017 2 comments

I feel the dead and the dying press around me
A pressure at first as soon as the doors part that builds
Each step bringing more
A throng of voices, shades walking down hallways
That no longer exist
Faces contort, bodies shuffle

What is left behind is rasping breath
Pained heartbroken moments
Loneliness

It does not take long to peel back layers
To see why these ones stayed
Most aren’t lost; they’re forgotten

They cannot understand why they never came back
Why they never came
I hear their lamentations

No one has come to grieve them, none to miss them
No one to lay down prayers or a flower
No one to say “Farewell”

In every hospital the Dead stay
So many unmourned, so many bound
Laying and shuffling in every floor

There are no wasted prayers;
Lay down a flower

There are no wasted prayers;
Lay down a coin

There are no wasted prayers;
Lay down a drink

There are no wasted prayers;
Lay down a plate of food

There are no wasted prayers;
Lay down a song

There are no wasted prayers;
Lay down your tears

Do not ask “Do They deserve it?”
They are Dead
I lay down these lines
The pressure eases
Because someone remembers Them

I whisper prayers in a silent hall
The pressure eases
Because someone speaks to Them

I pour down an offering
The pressure eases
Because someone has slaked Their thirst

I lay down an offering
The pressure eases
Because someone has fed Their hunger

They do not leave
But each may do their part
To remember and honor the Dead

For the Disir

April 9, 2017 Leave a comment

The skin and flesh fell away
The little ones took their fill
The soil ate well

The seed burrowed in the heart sprouted
The tree took root
The soul grew up and wide

The branches spread
The leaves budded
The animals gathered to live with it


The family visited their Disir
The bread and the milk laid down
The offerings fed the tree and Her companions

The tree shed its seeds
The animals carried some, the wind others
The Disir’s children grew tall and strong

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