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The #DoMagick Challenge Day 5

December 5, 2017 Leave a comment
Raido

Raiðo (Wikimedia Commons)

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.

Link to the Daily Ritual for the Challenge.

#DoMagick

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The #DoMagick Challenge Day 4

December 5, 2017 Leave a comment
Ansuz

Ansuz (Wikimedia Commons

Today I did galdr with Ansuz.

As before, I smoked Großmutter Una to cleanse and prepare myself.  Tonight it was a little less chilly than yesterday.  What proved challenging was how blustery it was.  Entirely appropriate for working with this Rune!

When I breathed in after the cleansing and opening prayers, what I felt was cleanness.  Cleanness of breath, a feeling that grew in me as I prepared to galdr.  When I galdred the first three times, my voice was high.  That feeling of clean, of cleansing, washed over me like the wind blowing through my hair.  I felt neither happy nor sad, nothing except this feeling of here and clean as I smoked my pipe and sat in the feeling of Ansuz’s presence.

The second round of galdr brought feelings of the use of voice, to shape and to bend, to work and to do.  My voice had taken on a kind of…golden tone, lacking better terms to describe it.  How the wind blew around the trees to make them dance to wind’s will.  How it blew through me and I could cover myself up from it, block it to some degree, but I was still responding to the wind.  How song could uplift and also destroy, how words could raise a people’s spirits or wreak havoc with a few whispers.

The third round of galdr came from me far more guttural, deep in my throat, vibrating.  Ansuz came from me very bass, commanding, rhythmic, drawing me in.  I swayed with it as I galdred, and I felt my body move with it, and I am sure if I had paper or keyboard nearby I would have wrote, or put my hands to wood and shaped it, to leather and made something.  It was inspiration and it was magic, it was poetry to give form and to shape.

Now generally I stop galdring after three rounds, but Ansuz told me to do a fourth, so I did.  This time I, we swayed and I sang Ansuz’s name using a combination of all the three galdr before it, sometimes rhythmically and other times without, rising and falling in voice, in and out of the guttural galdr.  I danced in place, singing Ansuz, and I ended with sharp cries of Its name, and I felt my voice carry power in it.  When I was done, I felt the meditation ended, and did my closing prayers, and cleansed.

As before, I spent time coming back into normal headspace after cleansing by cleaning out my pipe.  I will be grabbing something to eat and drink, too, to ground a bit more.

Link to the Daily Ritual for the Challenge.

#DoMagick

The #DoMagick Challenge Day 1

December 2, 2017 Leave a comment
Fehu

Fehu (Wikimedia Commons)

Today, I did galdr with the Rune Fehu.

When I galdred Fehu I was outside.  It was cold, but not too uncomfortable.  My first galdr I did three times and sat in the quiet, frigid evening.  It was almost midnight.  When I was not galdring, I had my pipe between my teeth or in my hand with whisps of Großmutter Una’s burning body rising up before me.  I felt the tingle of the Rune’s response.

I galdred three times, and breathed deep with each galdr.  The last round had been shallower, lighter.  This one was deeper, huskier.  A light breeze was blowing, but what I felt more than the cold was the latent warmth of the Earth beneath me.  The pulse of Midgard.  Not as vibrant as, say Summer, but still quite there.

I breathed in the sacred smoke three times, blew out, and then galdred rough, growling.  A lot louder than I had been. When I finished I could hear the echo out over the abandoned farm country behind the house.  Then, to my surprise, a cacophony of coyotes kicked up in response to the first galdr.  I galdred again, and they returned with howls.  The third galdr, and the continued to howl and yip.  I had a flash of seeing animals tucked away in little buildings, coops and the like, and another sight of winter wheat though we have none planted right now.  Warm things, baked things, and also hunting, of tracking things over cold land for a good meal.

I breathed for a bit and took in the presence of the Rune as the coyotes continued for a bit.  It was an interesting dichotomy, between the warmth of bread and soup in a warm house and hunting down warm prey in the cold.  To chase and tear on the one hand, and to dig into stores and settle down for the cold of Winter on the other.

Link to the Daily Ritual for the Challenge.

#DoMagick

 

The Harvest is In

October 30, 2017 Leave a comment

The harvest is in
The fields are hewn down
The harvest is in
The lands are cold
The harvest is in
The slaughters are done
All is prepared for the winter is come

The harvest is in
The home fires are lit
The harvest is in
The logs are arranged
The harvest is in
The trees are all cut
All stop for a rest for the winter is come

The harvest is in
The Ancestors gather
The harvest is in
The Disir are close
The harvest is in
The Väter are waiting
All rest by the Fires for the winter is come

For my Ancestors

February 21, 2017 7 comments

Who requested I learn to play the basic tune on the kantele for Them.  Sometimes the things the Ancestors ask of us hurts the heart, and others, it lifts us up.  This song, for me, is something of both.  Reminds me of my grandfather.  Of family, Ancestors I’ve never met in the flesh.  Of those I will lose, and those who will lose me.

Joy and bittersweet.

Hail to all of my Ancestors.  May They ever be hailed.

The Telling of Stories, the Singing of Songs

April 14, 2016 Leave a comment

Trying to grasp the ineffable

With fumbling hands and tongue

Reaching, stretching, trying

To bring the mind to order

The soul-deep to expression

The innermost understanding to bare expression

Stripped of majesty, shorn of glory

Dirt lying on the tongue, begging for water

 

O, the skin is dry!

 

Fill me, let me give water or wine

Give me words, give me words, give me words!

To express, to adulate, to bring You closer

To bring some part of You near

To drink and quench my thirst

To give and quench others’ thirst

To speak and share the stories

To create again and again

with each telling

The Worlds, Your births, Your deaths

Create and destroy and inspire and sacralize

Break and build and love and lose

Enliven and ensoul and enshrine and edify

Fill and free and craft and cleave

 

Let a billion tongues be sated by the waters of Your stories

a billion throats raised in song and word

a billion eyes enthralled by plays and stories

a billion ears entranced by hymns and teachings

For all Your stories and songs are precious

and all are the teachings tellings in their turn

holy, powerful, sacred

 

Let them be told and told again

Let them be sung and sung again

Passed on and on

That even those without an ear for music or a tongue for tales

may know You each in their own turn

and pass on in their way this knowing

 

Mani Mundilfari

March 24, 2016 1 comment

Mani Mundilfari Who guides the tides with His charge

Mani Mundilfari Who guards the children in His care

Mani Mundilfari Who plays with Skoll in His teasing way

Mani Mundilfari Who looks upon Unn beneath the waves

Mani Mundilfari Who helps keep time with His Sister Sunna

Mani Mundilfari Who carries the burden through Nott’s embrace

Mani Mundilfari Who greets old Daeg in dawn’s dim light

Mani Mundilfari Who greets Sister Sithgunt in dusk’s dark fall

Mani Mundilfari Who brings up the water to waking plants

Mani Mundilfari Who pushes the waters of river and lake

Mani Mundilfari Who hears the ebb and flow of veins

Mani Mundilfari Who goes quite in His dark time

Mani Mundilfari Who shows us ever His shining face!

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