Day Ten: Patrons

What should I say here? I am going to talk about Loki, my fulltrui, and about the Gods of my Hedgecraft. I feel I should mention both although, as I've stated before, the Gods of my Hedgecraft can hardly be called "patrons".

He and She are Gods I consider "Primal", part of the very earth and sky, part of the rain and forest and beating sun. They are good things and bad, but most of all, They are the boundary between life and death and the very drive of all things to live. They are Passion, in all its forms. They are the desperate need to survive: lust, and hunger, and fear. The edge of the knife.

I've known Them for a long time, but my understanding of Them has grown and developed a great deal over time. For the longest time I was bogged down in other people's impressions about deities who may in fact be quite different to Them... and I worshipped Them for years with a very shallow understanding of Them. That's changed as I started to get a better idea out of what I wanted in a personal witchcraft tradition, a better understanding of ecstatic ritual and a more clear idea of how I understand the world.

They're not patrons.... the word doesn't work with Them. But, I think if I were ever to consider myself "priesthood" - and I'm always unsure about that - it would be of these two Deities.

.......
And then there's Loki. He Who Is Always a Question, Trickster, the Cause Of And Solution To All of Life's Problems. He didn't come into my life in a blaze of fire, or announce his arrival with an explosion or something large falling down. He insinuated himself into my life slowly, so that I didn't really realise what was happening. I remained wary of him for a long time but still unutterably fond of him... I'd read stories of him as a child and though now they're lost in the fog of my memory, part of him stuck with me. This story was one I read, and forgot, and remembered again. I got a choice, too, in whether to be his or not. I'm not sure what the choice means... whether it means I can't complain later on, or whether to be truly screwed over you have to enter into it willingly. But for what it's worth I do trust him. I am not wary of him anymore; I am aware of him.

What shall I say of him. He has taught me many things, such as when to laugh, and when to play, and not to take the opinions of others to heart. He has taught me to leap and be brave, to take chances, and to do what makes me happy. There was also a curious instance in which Oðinn took an interest in me and gave me a Lesson, and Loki turned up halfway through rather vexed. They had a Conversation, to which I was not privy, but I suspect he was ascertaining whether Oðinn was not making plans for me that interfered with his own.

The thing about Loki is.... he's so.... It's like he looks at things with different eyes to everyone else. I think Oðinn "gets" him, and a couple of the others, but it's like the way he sees things he's looking at it from twelve perspectives at once and makes decisions that seem bizarre or nonsensical because he's working with a hidden aim, or no aim at all, or an aim that will become apparent to him later. He's incredibly perspicacious and his reasons are his own and are hidden and obscure, and I think sometimes he makes a decision on the spur of the moment based on who-knows-what. If the world's a stage and everyone players, Loki reads from a different script entirely. Possibly the same one, but one with all these notations made by the playwrite: little changes and stuff that don't appear on anyone else's script. He is a Cosmic Fool, the one who makes the gods look at themselves. He is a culture-bringer, and a breaker of stagnation. And he gets shit for it. But without him the gods would be living in a wall-less Asgard without wonderful weapons, and people would be dull little creatures.

I made him an oath once that I thought of as a "bargain", "I do this if you'll do that". But he considered it an oath, and it was, I just didn't think of it that way. So he gets a kiss from me, every day. I don't pretend to understand him or his reasons for doing essentially anything. I just count myself lucky to have him in my life, particularly in a way that, at present, doesn't hurt.

One thing is clearer than most, and that is that he is very fond of his family.

Day Five: Magic, Spellcraft, Mysticism

Magic is intrinsic to every element of my path. Within Heathenry, there's the option to explore magic or leave it. Personally, despite having magic in the other half of my practice to indulge in, I'm nevertheless really interested in Nordic magic. Galdr - singing magic - and rune work in particular fascinate me. I've always loved singing and do it pretty much every day, whether I realise I'm doing it or not. That magic can itself be worked just with the voice is wonderful - though, there aren't a great deal of sources on it that I'm aware of, and most people restrict themselves to singing the names of runes. I don't know whether any galdr songs actually survive. The runes are massive, beautiful powers in themselves and, sort of more importantly, Mysteries - for this reason I think they're pretty important for any Heathen to study, even if s/he doesn't plan on using them. What they are and what they have to teach is more important to me than what I can do with them, but I can't deny that they might be incredibly useful.

The other half of my practice is a form of religious witchcraft. The energies around me, and connecting to and using these energies, is an essential part of what I do and, for that matter, who I am. I've been doing some form of that since I was a child and I genuinely can't imagine a life not being aware of my own energies and energies around me. Spellcraft specifically isn't something I bother doing all that often, but in some ways the way in which we prefer to cast spells tells us a lot about our craft. Me, I'm most happy with a piece of string or a pen and paper. Little, basic objects I have around me often. Folk and sympathetic magic, mostly. I don't actually know any witch who casts a spell more than once in a while, but they've all researched spellwork enough to feel comfortable doing it, and are able to write their own spell in a way that's best for them and in a sense a reflection of their craft. So in that sense, spellcraft is important as an element of any form of witchcraft.

Then we have ecstasy and other-world travelling. The Nordic form of this practice is seidhr, but I feel on less solid ground here... I don't know whether I could, or should, call anything I do "seidhr". So I leave the term alone, and refer to my practice as "Walking the Hedge" for the most part. Whether it's magic or whether it's mysticism or whether it's both at once, it's a very large part of who I am and what I do. I don't even go a-Walking all that often, and yet it still plays a large part in my practice. The fact that I can do it when I need to or want to is a solid reassurance, and I've gone on Walks with gods that were massively illuminating and very personal. I've "fixed" myself, or rather, sought the aid of spirits to fix myself, when I was not so much "broken" as no longer functioning.

Mysticism isn't a word I personally use all that often. I think it's a hangover from my looking into occultism as a child - I've always associated it with men with long beards and with the armchair magician: reading a lot, but never doing or feeling. But that's a prejudice I should get over. Mysticism is a word derived from the Greek, referring to an adherent of a mystery religion. Whether my religion is a mystery religion I don't know - mysteries are a primary means of learning, but the means of obtaining those mysteries isn't standardised. But, that sense of driving forward seeking wisdom, knowledge, gnosis and the gods is very much a part of my Hedgecraft. It's a way of connecting with the gods, or that connection itself, and of snatching at bits of wisdom in the shadows. Gnosis, learning of Mysteries, those moments of epiphany, these are things I work towards.

A Prayer

I pray daily, at my altar, before bed. Well, I try to - sometimes I'm too tired, sometimes the altar seems so far away and I'm already snuggled down so pray in bed instead. Sometimes I forget. But I try to pray every day at my altar.

Sometimes I pray in words, but often it is an exchange of emotion, a touching of energies. These are the gods of my Hedgecraft and They have less time for words than the gods of the North. Sometimes when I am lucky They share with me in image, experience and sensation another lesson about Themselves, another snippet of what comprises Them. Tonight was such a night, and this is why I try to pray every day.

It can be difficult, and there are times it is unrewarding, it's true. Sometimes Their touch feels far off. It can be discouraging. Other times I feel Their presence strongly, and I feel blessed. These times - times like tonight - are the best, and these snippets of Mystery, or whatever they are, are what make such an un-signposted path worth the effort. They are what make it worth persevering with such a thing as a daily prayer time when it seems tiresome, or boring, or unrewarding. Harder times are followed by easier ones.

Day Four: Birth, Death and Rebirth

30 Days of Paganism continues.

I don't associate these three things strongly with my path, but my beliefs are undeniably circular: all things, planet included, universe included, will go through their own "winter" or "death" and then their own "spring" or "rebirth". All things need this period of rest in order to grow again, and after fierce growth all things are ready for rest. "All that falls shall rise again, all that dies shall be reborn." I do believe in reincarnation, and that Death is its own mystery, and an important part of things in itself rather than simply being a period of being non-living, or a period of rest. Winter is as important as the rest of the wheel of the year. But on the other hand, whether all people or all trees and birds and whatever are reborn I don't know, as in the Netherworld there are certainly trees and birds and bugs and I imagine those are the dead souls - or perhaps oversouls, of particular subspecies, as dear gods there are a lot of bugs - of those trees and birds and bugs that were alive here once. Do they come back here? When... and why? Who knows. The world continues on, but when things are reborn in the spring of it all, they may well be new things. Perhaps reincarnation is uncommon after all.

Birth... Honestly I find birth rather disgusting, and I don't know why anyone would give birth voluntarily. I feel the same way about pregnancy and babies, so giving birth is something I want nothing to do with. Birth as a concept, as a mystery experienced by myself... what can one say about birth. One can't remember it, after all. I imagine it was unpleasant. As a general mystery, in the world around me? I don't think I know enough about it yet to make comment, or it's so standard I don't acknowledge it much. Birth in the sense of fertility.... it's important, obviously. It's important so that we can eat, but death is important in that too as I don't eat stuff that's still alive. Not to my knowledge anyway. There's not a whole lot one can say that doesn't also apply to rebirth. They're both birth... one is just birth again.

Death... I've always been interested in death. I've always liked ghosts and skulls and so on. Out of the three it's the most fascinating, the most mysterious, as we can see in front of us what happens in the aftermath of birth but in the aftermath of death, all is surrounded by a veil of mist and incense smoke. My grandad just died. And the world doesn't feel particularly different. I miss him, but his presence isn't gone. I think he's sticking around for a while. Maybe he's waiting for his wife. Or maybe he's just looking at us from afar... I think he's drinking whiskey in the next world with old friends. One can hope. At any rate... I know the dead, and death is connected with wisdom in my personal mythology. So are shadows - wisdom is found in the shadows, not in what is presented to one and illuminated. There are Death-Mysteries in hunting and killing and eating that prey, and Death-Mysteries in burying the dead, and Death-Mysteries in dying oneself, and Death-Mysteries in Walking the Hedge, and Death-Mysteries in surviving death. Death and life are so connected for me, as a Hedgewitch, and the next world is a breath away.

Rebirth... In the sense of being born again, I think this has happened to me quite a few times now. In another sense, though, of metaphorical deaths and rebirths throughout one's life through initiations and rites and so on... I'm quite interested in that. I have been ceremonially devoured and regurgitated in a Walk once in order to fix something that was wrong with me, and it was a successful thing. It may count or it may not. It's its own mystery and its own wonderful thing. But rebirth is important in its own right. The spring of all things. By the time winter has been with us for three moons we are ready and due a spring, and early spring is one of my favourite times of year.

My God and my Goddess are connected very much to fierce passion in all things. Sex is a part of that, protecting the young or beloved is part of that, hunting is part of that. They're so very connected to the desperate need for survival and life, but in the same breath and same token They are very much connected with death, with both killing and dying. We live and we die, and They are there when we are living and when we are dead. They are that line, the knife's edge. The moment of orgasm, and the moment of death. La petite mort....

Heathenry as a rule isn't big on the concept of reincarnation. The dead are the dead, and a part of me is much attached to that idea as well. The world may continue, and new things are here, but the dead are the dead. They live within the Underworld, the barrows and hills and mountains (which I've already discussed as places both Here and There). I find the concept of an afterlife very reassuring, and the presence of the dead reassuring too. So I like this idea, that the dead are hiding out in their Barrow-hills toasting one another and recounting tales of their youth. I like that, very much.

See, for the most part, I look at a grave and it's a memorial and a stone and a beautiful thing, but there's nothing in it. As for actual things that are dead... that is, skulls and bones and so on... they're just there. Present as stones, and just as lifeless.... if they have a soul to them it's the soul of the bone itself as an object, in an animistic sense, connected in a way to the soul that once inhabited it of the human but practically, it is a thing in itself and a different thing. I don't find them spooky, just oddly friendly. Skulls have a rather welcoming grin to them. So the barrow, or the mountain, where a soul still in a sense resides, I like that. That one can go to that place and the dead are still there. It makes me smile.