Killer introductory article by Dagulf Loptson about starting and deepening your relationships with your various spirit entities: Gods, ancestors, and landvaettir (land spirits) alike. The TL:DR version: Treat your Gods and spirits the way you would treat your good friends. Visit them or talk to them on a regular basis; be courteous and respectful in your dealings with them; give them gifts; and honor any vows or oaths you made to them. It’s simple in theory, but not always easy in practice.
So, I’ve gone and completely overbooked myself again. Again, my own fault. No one is pressuring me to do most (if any) of it. I thought perhaps it was the Bay Area’s influence; but no, it’s happening here. It’ll likely happen wherever I go. The problem with moving is that you take yourself with you, you know.
So, now that I’ve met a bunch of people in the area and found some people with whom to do the things I’m most interested in, I’ll be dialing back again. My focus now will be finishing up/deepening ancestor work; continuing and upgrading my work with the Gods (including blogging); and starting to build Heathen community in my area. And relearning to trust other people while I’m at it, it seems. So, we’ll see how it goes
Any energy or blessings or good thoughts people want to send to help me achieve this balance will be appreciated 🙂
A Cara Miscellany.
I was talking with my sister the other day about our trip to Sweden (t-minus 6 days and counting!), and had a revelation. Though my sister is not Christian, and in fact could definitely find herself on one end of the Neo-Pagan spectrum, our personal beliefs are very different. (Let me reiterate: I love my sister, but we are very different. Oddly, we look enough alike that people have in the past mistaken us for twins, and our friends are thrown off a bit more when they meet us together and realize exactly how different we are.) In any event, though we have the same genetic material and she’s open to a lot of pretty far-out spiritual concepts, she is not at all Heathen or polytheist, though she has been pretty accepting of any spiritual processing work I’ve done with her.
So it was really weird that she was the one to come up with the idea of us visiting our ancestral homelands in Sweden and Norway together. Talking with her last week, she said something else that threw me for a loop. “You know, things have fallen into place too smoothly for this trip to be about us. We need to do some ancestor work while we’re there.”
I’m processing quite a bit more about the Scandinavian trip than I thought I would. So! New blog: https://prilgrimagetonora.wordpress.com/. (Nora is the name of the town in Sweden that my grandfather’s family is from.) With the trip coming up in less than a month, a lot of my energy, both spiritually and physically, will be focused on it. I’m not going to go as in-depth into God woo-woo things in the travel blog. That’s what this one is for 🙂 But if you want to hear about how things are going with the trip, follow the new blog.
Two years or so ago, I came across this short story by Seanan McGuire. It was fervently being passed around among the Heathens in my area, and as a Freyaswoman, people strongly suggested that I read it. I glanced at it, saw that it was about high school football, and passed it over. Only after I finally sat down and read it did I get what the fuss was all about.
Now? Now I file it under “Things That Make Me Cry,” because reading it makes me cry, each time. My first read through, the tears didn’t start until halfway through the story, when I caught on to what the author was doing. When I reread it yesterday, though, I started crying before the “cheerleaders” even left the locker room.
Not that it will necessarily make you cry, too. The thing is, it’s not a sad story at all. It’s like the best kind of feel-good story there is, really. If you work with a deity whose realm includes death, or fighting, or courage, I recommend that you check it out. (If you like football, or understand the power of a late autumn night, even better.)
“Winning? Losing? Children died, and now somehow we’re . . . how am I here? How are we playing football? I haven’t played football since high school.”
“But you did,” says another girl—Elle, with her white-blonde hair streaked in Falcon blue, and she’s lovely, she’s an angel, but her eyes are cold as she looks down on Clarice. “If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here. You’d be playing water polo, maybe, or chess, or competitive Pictionary.”
“There are as many battlefields as there are fallen warriors to fight on them,” says Rona. She straightens, offering Clarice her hands. “You earned your place here, I swear that you did, and now all you have to do is see the game through to its end in order to get your reward.”
Clarice looks at her, this teenage girl with her hair tied up in ribbons, and nothing has ever been more wrong, and nothing has ever been more right. This is Homecoming, this is the October that never ends, and she has earned her place here, on this field, on this team. She slides her hands into Rona’s without deciding that she’s going to do so, and Rona tugs her back to her feet, stronger than she should be for a girl so slight.
“Fight on, warrior,” she says, letting go of Clarice’s hands. She smiles, and for a moment, she is something else; not a cheerleader, exactly, but something older, and wilder, and serving the very same role. She cheers at the edges of the battlefield. “Fight on, and win.”
Due to a variety of sources (not the least being input from Odin, Freya, and my ancestors), Jack Daniel’s Honey Whiskey has become my Norse altar’s house libation of choice. It’s also become a good indicator as to whether/how strongly Freya is in the house; if I can take shots of it as if it were sugar water, She’s in. If it burns my throat the whole way down, She’s not at home.
New Matronae altar (in progress)