Small things in the Heathen experience

There are two things about every blót that I love. 


They are small things. But, being small, they have become a part of the entire experience of being a Heathen for me. 


The first thing happens before the ritual itself. Sometimes quite a while before. And, to be honest, it is not a part of every blót. But it is a part of many. This thing is the uncorking of the mead. 


It's a ridiculously small thing in its way, because it is not some sort of ceremony for me. I pull out the cork, and that is it. But if you've ever uncorked a bottle of mead, you'll know what I mean. The cork comes out with a thock and the smell wafts out of the bottle. I inhale a lungful of it, and it is a sacred moment, because this smell is the smell of ritual. It is a sacred smell. With that scent I know a rite is at hand, and in a sense it begins in that moment. Subconsciously I prepare for ritual. A sense of the holy comes over me. I suppose it is to be expected; the olfactory sense does have that tendency to induce a certain feeling in one. The body and soul become settled, prayerful, and full of a pleasant anticipation.


The second thing happens at the beginning of every ritual, nearly without fail - although once or twice I have come close to forgetting it. This is the Hammer Rite.


For me it is a very simple thing. I place my hand on my Hammer - one day I should photograph it for you, readers - and ask Thor to bless the rite. Usually I rhyme it; "Mjolnir's might" tends to get a mention, as does the word "night" and the aforementioned "rite". It's an easy rhyme, and it amuses me. And Thor, great and wonderful as he is, does bless the rite. And you can feel it. I feel it like a Hammer-blow; the sensation is as of a hammer striking the earth. There is a sense of finality to it, in a way. It is exceedingly pleasant, and warm, echoing the feelings one experiences in a Thorrablót. One feels protected. It is a great and mighty thing to be blessed by Thor, and I count it among my favourite things not just in my religious practice but in life.


This was meant to be a short entry. Just a few lines. Ah well.

Day Six: Prayer and Reciprocity

Heathenry is a religion in which there is a long and complex tradition of gift-giving and receiving. This is clear from the Havamal, and from the study of runes such as Gebo. (Gebo is one of the reasons I recommend all Heathens spend some time looking at the runes, even if they never plan to use them. They have many lessons for us.) We give, and in turn we receive. If we receive, we offer thanks. We offer gifts to the gods, be they the food from our table, the mead from our horn, time, etc. These offerings, by the nature of the gods, are not and cannot be equal. But they are appreciated. The gods are friends, and are kin, as much as we serve them. Offerings take the form of sacrifice, and as sacrifices, they should be a sacrifice. You give what you have, in the sense that they won't ask something of you that's beyond your means. But don't offer water when you have ale - the gods are your guests if you invite them to your hof or hearth. Treat them with the best of hospitality.

Offerings, in the form of sharing one's own bounty and one's own meal or drink, are not simply offerings of thanks. They are a way in which we share of ourselves with the gods. When we pour to the gods we aren't usually giving something that we aren't partaking in ourselves. Taking a drink and offering the same to a deity strengthens bonds with that deity. It is a form of communing with them - a communion, I suppose - and a holy thing. When an offering is gladly accepted, that is a wonderful thing to feel - a marvellous, moving and sacred thing. Additionally, in a sense, sharing an offering with the gods is a renewing of contracts. Contracts in which we have declared to honour them, and they to aid us, or contracts in which we have made an oath, and so on.

If I'm contacting a god I don't know well, I'll usually feel obliged to give an offering as a thanks for listening to me. With gods I know well I'll pray to them without feeling that need, because we've already formed that relationship. Gods with whom I don't have as strong a bond, or one's I'm meeting for the first time or am barely acquainted with, I'll feel I should make an offering because in a sense I feel I am intruding upon their existence, and should make an offering like a guest bringing a bottle of wine to a dinner, or something.

I very much like the concept prayer, particularly repeated prayer. I have trouble finding ones I like that are easily repeated but I have written a few nice ones of my own. Most published prayers for Pagans are very... dull, something the worshipper should have been able to come up with himself. What I look for out of a repeated prayer is a good lilt and meter (The Lord's Prayer in English has a good meter to it, as an example), and meaning, but an ease and flow to it that means once the words are internalised the prayer can be repeated whilst the mind concentrates on communion with the divine. I enjoy reading beads, and the feeling of them in my hands. In practice, though, I'm more likely to speak from the heart. I consider all verbal, and some nonverbal, interactions with deity as a form of prayer, and much of my prayers consist of conversations of a sort even if they start out with something more formal. I'm also a fan of wordless prayer, wherein communication takes place via images, sensations, feelings, emotions.

I consider prayer to be an important aspect of deepening one's relationship with deities. I know a lot of people are rather stand-offish with deities, even within Paganism which has a tendency towards wanting, or claiming to want, that personal communion with deities. I wonder sometimes whether it's a sort of internal difference between lay-people and semi-priesthood... whether striving towards deepening that bond with individual deities is some sort of consequence or symptom of that sort of mindset or desire.

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.