Smoking Prayers

I breathe in slowly

Vindrvaettir about me

Drawing the holy smoke inside

I exhale a prayer

 

I breathe in slowly

Vatnvaettir thrum in my chest

Each limb enlivened

I exhale tension

 

I breathe in slowly

Eldrvaettir dance on the cigar’s tip

Dancing a holy ring on my lips

I exhale offering

 

I breathe in slowly

Jorðvaettir reach up to draw me down

My roots settle in

I exhale relief

 

I breathe in slowly

Ancestors sit beside me

Speaking, listening, smoking with me

I exhale with Them

 

I breathe in slowly

Gods on every side

Their Presence comforting, hearing my prayers

I exhale thanks

The #DoMagick Challenge Day 22

Ingwaz

Ingwaz (Wikimedia Commons)

Today I did galdr with Ingwaz.

Worked with earplugs again today.  They were fairly effective at helping me block out the outside world and concentrating fully on the work tonight.

A note: I know that the #DoMagick Challenge was to take place over the course of December, however, due to obligations to my family, Kindred, and getting hit for overtime at my job, I have been playing catch-up with my sleep.  So I will be finishing up the Challenge’s 30 days, just not on the same timetable as all the other folks.

In the first round of galdr I experienced sex.  The generations that grew from roots rooted in sex, then back, farther and farther back until it was no longer sex I was experiencing, but cell division.  It was going from what was familiar to the unfamiliar, from this generation and humanity on back through the lines until our beginning.  It was…odd.  Good, but odd.  I do not have words to adequately describe what going back in time and experiencing each stage of life was like, but suffice to say it was all-connective between ourselves and every thing once you go back far enough.

In the second round of galdr I was in a field.  Cows, or what were near to them, I think they could have been aurochs, were lazing in it.  This was just a feeling of utter peace.  No predators, no worry, no nothing but lazing in a field and relaxing.  When I began the next part of the galdr, they were being guided about the field.  They were being herded or moved around with.  Their waste fed the ground as they shredded the earth with their hooves, they ate the grasses, great big stalking things not like what we’re used to with these manicured lawns.  These were grasses.  They were wild.  As they were eaten many shed their seeds and spread, and the aurochs helped them along to propagate the next generation.  The last part of the galdr was  a huge shift.  Suddenly I was in a wholly different field, different grasses.  Smaller grasses, great furrows in the ground over which grew plants and grasses.  I saw a red flower with a black center, and heard from far off someone singing Flander’s Field.  The song and scene faded as I finished galdring.

In the last round of galdr I was in a special wood-roofed hut, the scent of blood all around.  The auroch’s neck was red, its body wedged into a pair of wooden beams formed into an X, tied tight to it.  My hand was covered in its blood, a long knife in my hand as I held it so it would not fall.  Then, the next galdr began and I and some others were butchering it in the hut, placing its parts onto wooden slats that were taken from us.  In the last galdr, there was a vessel of blood that had been beneath it taken, and its blood was sprinkled on a fire, on the people, on the Gods, which were present in the poles.  As I finished the galdr, it seemed to echo through me, and life was sprinkled on the field, the fire, the people, the Gods.  The land would be fertile.  I could see it.  The people would be too.  The Gods were pleased.  Then, I opened my eyes, and took deep breaths as I settled back into now-time.

I did my prayers of thanks to Rúnatýr and the Runevaettir.  I cleansed with the candle and prayed prayers of thanks to the Eldest Ancestor.

Link to the Daily Ritual for the Challenge.

#DoMagick

For Polydeukion on His Festival Day During the Festival of the Trophimoi and Treiskouroi

Again, I want to thank P. Sufenas Virius Lupus for asking me to write this.  This prayer is for Polydeukion, and it was first said before His bust in the Kelsey Museum in Ann Arbor, Michigan at the start of the Festival of the Trophimoi and Treiskouroi at PSVL’s request.

Khairete Polydeukion!
Hero of Herodes, Herodes’ Son,
Youthful One, Watcher of the Baths,
Overseer of Games
Whose eyes shine in blessings,
Whose body is strength and vigor
Whose hands and speech do honor unto the Gods’
Oh Roman Knight!
Most Pious!
Exalted Student!
Let us never forget the Wisdom of Youth.
Let us remember the brightness of intellect is kindled and tended well in the soul, the heart, and the mind of every youth.
Io Polydeukion!

For Antinous on His Festival Day During the Festival of the Trophimoi and Treiskouroi

I want to thank P. Sufenas Virius Lupus for asking me to write this and the prayer that is forthcoming for Polydeukion.  While I do not actively worship either of these Holy Powers as of yet, it has given me a new window into how we can cross between our religious communities, come to understand one another’s Gods, Heroes, Ancestors, and spirits, and give good honor to Them and one another.  This, this is an aspect of interfaith/intrafaith work that any polytheist can come to.  Thank you Sannion, for helping to inspire this exchange!  I invite any of my readers who wish to do this as well, especially if you wish to share devotional cycles with one another, even if we are coming at this from completely different pantheons, to step through the door and share your devotion with me and I with you.  If you do, please, let me know taboos, offerings, and so on that is important to living in good Gebo with your God(s), Heroes, Ancestors, and/or spirits so I do not give offense in offering.

 

Khairete Antinous!
Most-loved of Hadrian,
Whose lips sealed love in an Emperor,
Whose arms took up his care,
Whose feet walked in holiness,
Whose life is exulted in stone and verse,
Whose body sank into Sacred Waters,
Whose soul was lifted in holiness
O Antinous, hear my prayer,
Who is and lives in the House of Osiris
Whose body is clad in green and life
Whose eyes see the Dead,
Whose lips speak love and comfort to the Dead,
Whose arms soothe the Dead,
Whose feet are planted deep in the womb of the World,
May the Dead who loved, who lost, who suffered
May the Dead who were denied their love and joy and lust,
May all find comfort before You in Your Home,
O holy Antinous!
Io Antinous!

Blessings for the New Year

May the Gods be pleased by our offerings, hear us, and bless us.  May the spirits be with us and bless us.  May the Disir, Väter, and all our Ancestors be with us, and bless us.  May the Norns bless us with good fortune.    May we live in Gebo with our Gods, Ancestors, and spirits in the coming year.  May They bless us in kind for our Gebo.  May those who have suffered this year find peace.  May those who have struggled find resolution.  May those who have been ill be healthy.

Happy New Year everyone.  See you in 2014.  Blessings to you and yours today and in the New Year.  Ves ðu heil!

Connecting With Christian Ancestors

My thanks to Sannion who prompted this post with his own.

I have been working with my Ancestors pretty closely going on about four years now.  In that time a pair of ancient Ancestors, one a Disir, a powerful female Ancestors, and the other a Vater (German word meaning ‘father’ which I use in place of ‘alfar’ which can also mean ‘elf’) have come forward to guide me in my Work.  In the last two years my Catholic Ancestors have raised Their Voices and let Themselves be known much stronger than previous.  It seems now, in addition to speaking for my long-Dead Ancestors, that I must speak for and with the Catholic ones as well.

When They first began contacting me, it was a cacophony of voices, questions like “Why did you stop going to church?  Do you not like Fr. ___ anymore?” and “You can still pray with us, yes? (or ja?, dependent on the Ancestor)?” and many others.  Their Catholic identity was so strong and intrinsic to Their Being that They carried it over with some part of Them into Death.  If Their Catholicism is as deep, powerful, and purposeful a presence in Their life as Paganism is in mine, that it lasts well after They have crossed over, who am I to argue with Their spirits?

Part of engaging with the Ancestors is to encounter Them on Their own terms, regardless of how comfortable They make us,  but I take that only to a point.  That point for me is an abusive Ancestor who has been abusive towards myself and/or others that has refuted any attempts at reconciliation.  I do not have Ancestors who abused me while They lived, and for that, I am deeply grateful.  The point of working with our Ancestors is not to tear open old wounds unnecessarily, but where we can, to give comfort, healing, and connection to Them and to ourselves, the Worlds we live in, and the places They once lived.   In the case of an abusive Ancestor I advise contacting an older and/or closer Ancestor to you than that person.

I was deeply uncomfortable, especially at first, with the offerings my Catholic Ancestors wanted me to make.  They wanted me to go to church, to sing Them Catholic songs I had learned as a child, to read to Them from the Bible.  As with a lot of my Work I came to understand that really my comfort is secondary to doing what is right for my Ancestors.  For my Ancestors who still identify as Catholic, there is a profound peace, purpose, and love They find in the liturgy They have me read, in the songs I sing, in the love I show to Them by doing this.

There are certain things I will not do, such as attend church services where I directly participate in the Mass, i.e. taking Communion.  I would be lying to myself, my Ancestors, my Catholic Ancestors especially, and to Their God.  I would also be taking into my body the Body and Blood of Christ, and that I cannot do, for many theological reasons, chief among them being that I am Odin’s and so, I cannot proclaim the Catholic Mystery of Faith.  While I may go to a Mass for a family member, such as a funeral or a wedding, I cannot be part of it as my Catholic relatives will be.

What I do, instead, is do as my Ancestors have asked in concession.  I carry in my pocket a green Gideon New Testament with Psalms and Proverbs.  I may pray to the Ancestors out of it, sing from it, or, as They have had me do more recently, listen to Them with it.  I shut my eyes, letting the pages flow along my fingers until I hit a page and feel or ‘hear’ stop.  When this happens I let my fingers flow along the page until I feel or ‘hear’ stop again, and look at what the message from Them is.  It is especially helpful because it is a way my Catholic Ancestors feel comfortable with it, and it gives us a common connection.  I happen to find great beauty in the Psalms, especially 23.

I have also placed my First Communion rosary on the Ancestor Altar for Them, and a red Gideon New Testament like the one above, and keep it as I would anything else on the Ancestor Altar.  While I do not pray the rosary, given the Nicene Creed is part of it, it is there as a reminder, and a way of connection many of my Dead.  I need not pray the rosary to feel its influence in my life, particularly my Ancestors’ skull prayer beads, which brings me great comfort and connection.

The Catholic prayers I once prayed and sang, the many days I spent at prayer in church have had good effect on how I pray to my own Gods.  The process of learning to sing, clearly and in more-than-ordinary language, lends itself to the altered states of consciousness, the mindfulness I hope to achieve with Them.  I learned “Adeste Fideles”, otherwise known as “O Come All Ye Faithful” in first grade, and loved the Latin language.  I was required to know what I was singing, and why I was singing it.  To know not just the words that the Latin translated into, but what they meant to those I was singing them to, and for me, given I was singing solo.  Rote prayer has a power with me because it is what I grew on.  Intellectual investigation of the source materials for my religion, and constantly questioning was appreciated by my priests, and it is one of many things I carried with me into my Paganism.  An appreciation of spiritual gifts and mystic experiences was given to me at a young age, where I had an experience kneeling before the Tabernacle during one of my Confirmation classes.  I prayed for two hours, and experienced Christ in a deeply personal way, His Voice, His touch.  It is from these deep wells of learning, from then and more recently, that much of my devotional Work is culled from.

Working with my Catholic Ancestors is rebuilding a bridge between us I had long thought burnt to ash.  When I became a Pagan I spoke with Yahweh, explaining that my choice to follow the Goddess, then Brighid, was not to hurt Him or betray Him, but a following of my heart for what called me, and I recognized that the Voice was not His.  I thought in this I would have to cut most,  if not all ties to my Catholic family, Ancestors included.  I am deeply happy to be shown that is not the case.

The impassable wall that I feared I had built between myself and my family seems to be much less a solid wall than one with many gates, some shut to me, and others wide open.  Ancestor Work is one of those wide open gates, and there are Ancestors freely coming to many of my rituals, Catholic Ancestors and otherwise.  Sometimes we must be the ones to raise that gate and acknowledge our Ancestors.  Sometimes They will come to us and invite us to meet between, acknowledging us on our path, still extending love, and connecting with us.  It is, as with all things, Gebo.

Odin Project: Day 30

This is the final day of the Odin Project for this 2012 year.  Thank you to Galina, who inspired me to be part of it, and everyone who has participated in it.  Thank you to everyone who has followed my blog through this month; I hope that the Odin Project has somehow touched you, or brought you closer to Him.

Long suffered He | who traded Eye and Life

for giving wisdom to the Worlds;

Praise to the Allfather | given in gratitude

for gifts heaped upon gifts

 

Hail to Odin | in times of peace

for its blessings are hard-won;

Hail to Odin | in times of strife

for oft does it visit

 

Ever-mindful is Odin | of His children

who wanders the whole of Midgard

Hugin and Munin | ever-watch and wheel

and speak news to His waiting Ear