Today I did galdr with Raiðo.
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. Tonight it is both blustery and cold. My mind wanders to the lands where the ancient Heathen Ancestors would have called home.
As I breathed in to prepare, three times, I felt a kind of needing to move in my legs. Not from the cold; I actually feel far more comfortable at these colder temperatures than anything above 60°F. A kind of wandering, or wanting to go to a place.
When I galdred Raiðo the first time, my tone was warm and loud. I echoed across the countryside. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy doing galdr outside: I can be quite loud without disturbing my neighbors. As I galdred, the pipe held in my hands, there was the sensation of going somewhere, of having a destination and slowly getting there.
The cold seemed to press tighter as I smoked and breathed cleansing breaths between. As I prepared to galdr I could feel, hear the march of feet around me. Bracing against the cold and marching on. Determination. A war march. I galdred and it seemed that I was marching alongside them, and who they were changed. At times I heard leather soles and chain mail, others gear in webbing and the soft sound of boots on grass.
The next round of galdr my first came out guttural, fierce, and I felt the march quicken, the destination coming nearer, the steps quickening. Excitement and anticipation as the gap is closed. More, though: the destination that one has worked so hard, built up so many resources, done so much planning is in sight. Relief, joy, fierce pride in having made it to where you need to be. The next part of the round of galdr, and my voice came out high. I felt called to turn my gaze up to Mani. The carts of the heavens, the every-turning wheels that make night, day, that make the days and nights of all the Worlds, that blanket of darkness that is Nött, Nött’s gift, with all those burning stars and the Star People. The last part of the last round was low, deep, the echoes of all the feet in the long journeys so many have taken that I could be here. The Diaspora, the Migrations, the Journeys of countless Ancestors on countless feet on countless soils and here I am walking on my own.
It was then the cold got too much, and I felt I had to seek a new destination: warmth inside. In the garage I cleansed and purified myself as I had the previous nights, thanking Rúnatýr and the Runevaettir for deepening our connection and our relationship. As I cleaned out my pipe and came back to normal headspace, I thought about all the journeys that had gotten me here, and where I was planning on our family heading to next. The wheels that take us here and there, and the work needed for us to move into the next stage of our life.