Moments in Divine Love

 

In a decidedly Christian church for the first time in half my life, I feel the heat radiating off my body as I resist the urge to get up and flee. I quiet my fires with reminders that I am choosing this, that I want this. More than that, I prayed for this. I sat in my car and prayed that I would find the peace of mind to go back to a church. After the sermon, the woman next to me asks what I thought. I’m afraid I’ve already forgotten the message, but what stays with me is that this church understands the metaphysical sciences of universalism, and isn’t going to get hung up on the individual language we bring to that. It’s exactly what I need right now.

There is no fire and brimstone beyond our own creation. There’s God speaking to us in the languages we know, reaching for us in the places we seek Her in. Mother-Father God, ascended masters, the angels, and all beings of light aligned to the same purposes–healing our wounds, gently returning us back to our all-loving relationship with God, making good out of the evil deeds that confuse and complicate our existence. 

“I’ll be back,” I decide, the last time I was at the church any less than three times a week. 

Face-up on the massage table receiving touch healing from between six and eighteen members of the church all at once, I experience a new degree of the heat sometimes associated with Reiki. Their hands are searing hot, melting into me as all sense of a border between my body and theirs begins to burn away. Where my form remains, I can feel sweat dripping. In my mind, I travel backwards through so many embarrassing moments and interactions I would very much like to forget.

I’m struggling to find peace when the image of a grey-skinned, oval-headed angel with large, soft eyes of obsidian appears in my mind surrounded by a starry field of royal blue. The orbit of celestial bodies crowns the space above his head in golden dust, and pinched between his fingers is a molecule-thin sword of light which he delicately directs to trim away my guilt of sin. Archangel.

I remember and find fellow journeymen to share with the reconciliation I felt in the presence of God in the wilderness. The past exists as a memory, and neither God nor I (nor anyone I have harmed or perceived to harm) exist there any longer. Here we are in the present moment, each moment unfolding. May we find healing in these moments. May we find peace and freedom from the memories we still hold. Grace is present, peace is present, forgiveness and growth already are. 

There’s a freedom when I get off the table, a lightness. I’m ready to be in this moment again.

Sitting in the sanctuary, I close my eyes to focus as solely as possible on this renewed relationship to God I am experiencing. Over the course of the evening, three or four givers approach from behind me and direct the presence of divine love back into my mind. Sometimes I see colors, I smell energies, I receive little mantras to get me through the week–’I am a child of God,’ ‘God is faithful,’ ‘God is one/in/all.’ I perceive the little differences in them and me, me and God, until finally, on the fourth week it happens so subtly I want to laugh. 

Feel this, I hear in my mind. And I envision sunlight streaming gently down from above. I stay with it as my vertigo returns and the room begins to sway. I love you, I repeat over and over again to God. My internal voice slurs and distorts until love is the only word cycling in repetition any longer. Ah-ha! I think to smile. Will we do it now? All distinctions fail, all senses overloaded and blind. As a teenage psychonaut, I termed this space ‘the white world,’ unsure if my eyes were even open or closed anymore as my mind is filled with deafening white light and the full absence of all the aggregates that define our day-to-day lives. 

In that moment, the channel presses down on the top of my head and I return peacefully to my body. Everything is in perfect harmony. And ah, this is the purpose of these blessings, to touch that oneness and to learn to carry it with you. I am blessed.

Afterwards, even the mundane seems like a beautiful sign or task planned by a God undeniably present in this world. The first night, an enormous circular cloud hovers above the church and the whole city. The fourth night, I return to work afterwards and find joy and purpose in doing the dishes, content in knowing this is God’s need for me right now. 

I am making myself available in service to this God’s people. It’s an exercise I’ve pushed myself into before as part of theurgistic occult research. This time there is no ‘pushing’ myself. There’s just me wanting to do it. There’s no research, there’s just intimacy. There’s no longing, there’s just touch. Effortlessly I have arisen in this relationship with the God here, the same God I have encountered in the wilderness and potentially elsewhere. In my mind still though is a battle between merging completely into this new consciousness and obsessing over intellectualizing, categorizing, defining every moment of it.

Even after this God and I have reconciled, even as I am learning to accept our relationship has always been present, I struggle with how to translate that knowing into the languages of mysticism I’ve lived in for years prior. I wonder if all this is ‘too metaphysical,’ ‘too Christian,’ ‘too Abrahamic,’ ‘too Pagan,’ ‘too Qabalistic gobbledygook,’ ‘too weird,’ ‘too ET,’ too whatever for whoever might read me, hear me, or analyze this new period in my life. I worry that people will think I’m going to become like someone who has rejected them or hurt them in the past. All I know to say to that is that it’s not my intention. It’s not my understanding of God or this relationship I’m in.

I want to let go of that anxiety. I want to stop worrying, stop translating to ‘normal’ speech, stop minimizing, stop hiding. I’m in the midst of something many people from across time and culture–Pagans, Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus–spend their lives searching for: an intimate and revealing relationship with God.

I’m learning a new language to talk about it all. I hope sharing propels us all forward, challenges us to go deeper with all of our gods, and gives us new dreams for what all is possible in those relationships.


Pat Mosley

Gods and Politics: Civics from the Romans

At this time of the year, I ponder what is citizenship and good government. At the Ides (13th) of September, an epulum (feast) is given to the Capitoline Triad. For my epulum, I lay out food for Jupiter, Brightest and Best (Iuppiter Optimus Maximus), Juno Regina (Iuno Regina) and Minerva Augusta. (These Three Gods comprise the Capitoline Triad.) It is also the Day of the Epulum Iovis (The Feast of Jupiter). In Ancient Rome, sacrifices would be made and the feast attended by Roman Senators. (The ceremony was called a lectisterium, a ceremonial meal that is offered to the Gods, Who attended through their statues.)

During the time of Roman Kings, the Archaic (Original) Triad, was Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus. Jupiter guided the State, while Mars defended the borders. Quirinus promoted civic responsibility. (Roman citizens were addressed as “Quirites.”) I see this Triad today teaching new nations how to govern themselves.

Under Etruscan influence, the Gods of the Archaic Triad were changed to represent The Republic. Jupiter and Juno protected the State and guided the Senators. Meanwhile, Minerva, as the Patron of the Arts, promoted excellence in society. I see the Capitoline Triad advising today’s democracies.

The counterbalance to the Capitoline Triad is the Aventine Triad of Ceres, Liber, and Libera. Formed after a plebeian riot, the Aventine Triad protected the rights of the common citizens from government overreach. Ceres maintained the food supplies. Liber and Libera, both Gods of Fertility, protected the male and female seed, respectively. The Aventine Triad protects the rights of citizens today.

I consider civic action to be in the province of the Triads. The Capitoline Triad asks “does the conduct of the government warrant a response of some kind.” Were the representatives bribed into allowing fracking in their district? Did they deliberately enact these laws in the dead of night to avoid public outrage? Meanwhile, the Aventine Triad asks “is this new law fair and sensible.” Is there something out of balance? Did government overreach happen? The answers to these questions form the proper civic response.

I view civic action differently from politics. Civic action is based on what will benefit the community (commonweal). Politics is based on what the person determines to be right and wrong. Since everyone has different ideas on that, no one person can decide what is good for the whole of the community. Civic actions entail whether the citizens are disenfranchised by a law or practice. Are the rights of the minority protected while the will of the majority is being carried out? Are only the wishes of the minority implemented while the desires of the majority are ignored?

The Capitoline and Aventine Triads encourage citizenship and community participation, with deliberate and thoughtful actions. My response to the insistence by some that polytheism must be political is “what does that mean.” Civic action encourages the betterment of the community. Politics stresses one viewpoint over another. Being apolitical is also a duty and right of citizenship. For a society to function well, apolitical people are necessary. They are good judges and mediators, since they view things differently than others.

Whenever various controversies facing polytheists erupt, I always ask the Triads “what would benefit the community.” And I wait for the answer and pray for understanding. Sometimes the answer is to do nothing. Not every controversy requires or deserves a response.

Of the list of Private Roman virtues relevant to political action would be dignitas (a sense of self-worth), firmitas (tenacity), gravitas (a sense of the importance of the matter), prudentia (personal discretion), severitas (self-control) and finally veritas (honesty). These particular virtues both guide the conduct of the Roman Polytheist in politics, as well as define how to be an effective advocate. Following these virtues ensures that one does not degrade those for whom they advocate nor the Gods Themselves.

Public Roman virtues provide a structure on what to advocate for. Abundantia is enough food for all. Aequitas is fair dealing between the government and the people. When conducting affairs let concordia (harmony between nations and between people) and fides (good faith in contracts) be the guides. Iustitia points to having sensible laws, and salus, the concern for public welfare. In the throes of advocacy, bonus eventus (remembering positive events) and fortuna (acknowledging positive events) should not be forgotten.

Roman Virtues who are Gods:
Abundantia: With her cornucopia, this Goddess distributes grain and money to all.
Aequitas: Aequitas is the God of Equity.
Bonus Eventus: Depicted with a patera (cup) in his right hand and a wheat shaft in the left, this God ensures good harvests and successful enterprises.
Concordia: This important Goddess has a festival on July 22.
Felicitas (Prosperity): This Goddess represents the best aspects of communities.
Fides: This Goddess oversees oral contracts between people.
Libertas (Liberty): This Goddess personifies liberty in all its aspects – personal and political.
Pax (Peace): When Augustus re-established peace after the Roman Civil War, he made Pax a Goddess.
Pietas: This Goddess is usually portrayed with a stork, a symbol of filial duty.
Pudicita (Modesty): This Goddess, once represented the modesty of women, but later oversaw the moral uprightness of citizens.
Salus: This ancient Goddess also preserves public health.
Spes (Hope): Depicted about to depart, this Goddess holds an opening flower.
Virtus (Virtue) and Honos (Honor): These two Gods are usually worshipped together. They are also Gods of Military Courage and Honor.

Musings on Loki

This is something I wrote some time ago but it continues to be true in my experience and I wanted to share it with others. As I’ve stated on multiple occasions I have a deeply devotional but also sometimes chaotic relationship with the god Loki.

Loki can be a very hard god but He is so worth it. He is an individual so sometimes He is all smiles and laughter. Other times He is deep and thoughtful. Sometimes, He is Worldbreaker in all His terribleness. He frightens us, shaking the ground under our feet and tearing at the illusions we have built up about ourselves. He smiles as He rips apart our walls, not because he is sadistic or evil but because He genuinely cares about us and He knows it is for the best. After the deed is done we shake with relief because we have seen divine fury strike out around us, rending and gutting our self doubt. We have seen the fires of Muspelheim reach out to devour that which we had for so long devour our very minds. Memories, doubts about ourselves, irrational fears, they all melt and twist in FlameHair’s fire, till we rise out the other side, stronger and more sure of ourselves.

Loki can be a hard god because He points out our flaws, not to be mean but to show us that no one is perfect. We must work on ourselves but we must not be deluded into thinking we will ever reach some arbitrary benchmark of perfection. Loki wants us to grow as people but He also wants us to love ourselves how we are because if we are constantly waiting until we are good enough to love then we will never love ourselves. We are already good enough to love and loved all the more because we try.

This is why Loki can be a hard god, He genuinely cares about us as individuals.

©Terra Akhert 2019

Responding to the Crisis in the Amazon

As we hopefully all know right now, the Amazon Rainforest is burning. The vast majority of the fires have been set intentionally. Some of them were set legally, others illegally. All of the fires were made easier, if not possible, by the regressive environmental policies of Brazil’s president Bolsonaro. The fires are not only a serious threat to our already deeply imperiled environment, they are a direct threat to the indigenous populations who call the Amazon home and who have been fighting for so long to protect that home. These fires are being set with the full knowledge of the threat they pose to the people who live there, and is nothing short of a genocidal tactic being used against populations who have been struggling to defend their rights against colonization and capitalistic greed for so long.

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Within pagan and witchcraft communities, people who are distraught and feel powerless to help have been creating and sharing spells designed to send healing to the Amazon. I am not a huge believer in the power of magic on its own, though I believe that magic can be a powerful tool for reinforcing or strengthening some other action you are taking in the world.

For myself, I have started a monthly donation to both the Rainforest Action Network and  the Rainforest Trust. Another wonderful organization to support is Amazon Watch, which works with indigenous people to protect the rainforest. I made my donations in Jord’s name, a earth jötunn mother of Thor. I also evoked her in the small ritual spell I did tonight, and will do for the following two nights, and invite you to join me in doing.

My spell is a modification of one I saw drifting around Facebook. The original called for a bowl of water, a candle, and a piece of agate, quartz, or palo santo. Though I happened to have a piece of palo santo given to me by a friend, I strongly recommend against buying palo santo due to its endangered status, which is directly linked to over-harvesting. I also brought along with me a sterile lancet and biodegradable tissue, a bottle of wine, some fancy salt, and a beer — to make offerings to those I called on.

My spell goes as follows, but feel free to make any modifications that will help you perform the spell successfully:

Sit on the earth. Light the candle before you, and dig a hole between you and the candle. As you begin to speak, hold the [agate/quartz/palo santo] in the flame.

“I call on Angrboda, whose spirit is wild, to oversee and lend power to these workings.”

Pour offering of wine into the hole.

“I call on Jord, who is the fertile earth herself, to accept and manifest this healing.”

Sprinkle offering of salt into the hole.

“I call on Freyr of the Vanir, the god who wields the rains, to bring his gift of rain, to the Amazon that burns.”

Use sterile lancet to draw blood from a finger, dab it up with the tissue and drop this into the hole followed by a healthy pour of beer.

As you speak the next bit, douse the burnt end of the [agate/quartz/palo santo] in the bowl of water.

“I implore these powers, hear our cries.”

Pick up the bowl, and as you speak the next bit, dip your finger in the water and sprinkle it on the candle.

“Bring down the rains to drown the flames burning through our lungs.”

If the candle was not spattered out, blow it out now.

Offer gratitude and bid farewell to those you have evoked, in whatever way works best for your practice.

Hindu Festivals: Janamashtami

Today is Krishna’s Birthday! Yaay! Here are a few things you need to know about this festival and the god whom it is meant for.

Well, first of all, Krishna wasn’t technically a god. Yes I know he is worshipped as one and ISKCON devotees believe him to be the Paramatma, the great creator spirit. But in older traditions, Krishna is only an avatar of Vishnu, who lived here on Earth as a human many thousands of years ago. That is how it’s possible for him to have a birthday. He was born on the eighth day of Bhadrapada month – Hindus use a Lunar calendar when it comes to most celebrations; it’s around August-September in our calendar.

Born as one or not, he certainly is a very popular god with devotees. He is said to be very attractive, and is the god of compassion, tenderness and love. I would personally add ruthless politics and trickery to the list due to the role he played in the Mahabharata but that’s just me. Most people worship him as the innocent looking charmer with the flute and cows.

So. How do you celebrate a god’s birthday?

1. Clean the house. Just like you would when hosting a birthday party for a human.

2. Cook something yummy for Krishna. It must be vegetarian. He is said to love butter so you could leave some for him at his altar/statue. I normally cook chick pea curry with puri (deep fried breads) and some sweet dish – this year I have made date laddoos. I will leave a link at the bottom with the recipe for these.

3. Celebrate him! Chant his mantras, watch movies about him; keep him in your mind. A good movie that came out fairly recently and I really liked is OMG – Oh My God. It is in Hindi but you might find it with subtitles.

4. Go to a mandir or gather with friends and keep a vigil. Krishna was born at midnight, so people keep vigil to wait for his arrival and wish him happy birthday.

5. Many people fast on this day (I don’t but I make sure I only eat vegetarian food). If you decide to fast you can do it sunrise to sunset, or until the next day morning. You can also do a light-fasting, with eating only fruits and water. Hard core believers will not eat anything and won’t even drink water all day until the next sunrise.

6. If you are in India or in an Indian community, there are always dance and drama performances to honour him. ISKCON temples are a good choice to go as obviously Krishna is their main god. And of course there is a special tradition to commemorate his stealing butter from his mother’s kitchen: dahi-handi. A pot full of yoghurt is hung really high up. Then people have to make a human pyramid in order to reach the pot and break it. The group who manages to break it gets the blessings of Krishna – and some presents from the organisers.

Happy birthday Krishna, I’m sure you are having a blast this year too!

Chick peas curry:

https://www.cookwithmanali.com/punjabi-chole-chickpeas-curry/

Puri:

https://www.vegrecipesofindia.com/poori-a-kind-of-fried-indian-bread/

Dates laddoo:

https://hebbarskitchen.com/dates-ladoo-recipe-khajur-laduu-recipe/

Generational Trauma, Dolphins, and Neptune

Odin, the Norse All-Father, recruited me into Polytheism. Since outside of Odin, no other Norse God seemed interested in me, I questioned my baffling experiences. Later I found out that there is a Group of Gods (Sekhmet, The Morrigan, Odin, Hekate, and Dionysus.) who recruit people into Polytheism. (Recruiting Gods will often leave the person once they become a Polytheist.) However at the time, I was frustrated and disappointed at having no rapport with anyone.

During my struggles, I attended different rituals held by other Polytheists. When I went to a Roman one, I met Neptune. During this rite, I felt a 1,000 volts of electricity coursing through me. My head was on fire and my hair stood on end. Neptunus Pater (Father Neptune) made Himself known to me. I was welcomed into the Roman Pantheon of Gods. I felt as if I had come home. Later, I realized that the Roman Gods wait before introducing Themselves to practicing Polytheists.

It turns out that my family had a long relationship with Neptune. For generations, they thrived in union with the sea. Mariners, boat builders, and fisher folk received their livelihood from the ocean. However, like all reciprocal relationships, both sides require sacrifices.

The rupture with Neptune came when my grandfather’s father lost his entire family in a horrific storm. They were fishing on Georges Bank in the Atlantic at the time. Following the news, his sorrowful mother made him (her youngest) promise never to go to the sea again. She cursed it for destroying her life. Afterwards, she would chide laughing or happy people with, “Remember you were born to die.”

After that, his father took to farming and was miserable. He passed that misery onto his family and to future generations. Since we are not independent of our ancestors, this transgenerational trauma becomes a part of us. The sickness in my family came out as abuse and addiction.

Since ever I could remember, I disliked dolphins. I could not abide people gushing over these ill-tempered bullies. Dolphins symbolized the deep trauma of my family losing an entire generation. Instead of saving the drowning men, the dolphins acted as psychopomps guiding them across the water to the Afterlife. Neptune had wanted his offerings from my family.

After years of living inland, my father settled us next to the sea. Then the healing could begin. In middle age, my father discovered joy in puttering about in his small sailboat, a blue J. Sailing in the Long Island Sound between New York and Connecticut, he had fun. Sailing with him was an exercise in not caring if we were lousy sailors or not. We had finally made peace with the sea.

Repairing my family’s relationship with Neptunus Pater has been healing for me. The trauma that my family carried is now dissipating. My relationship with Him now is one of sacra gentilicta – keeping rites for the God of my family. It is my sacred duty to make offerings on behalf of my family including the Ancestors lost at sea. I have weekly devotions to Neptunus Pater, and an annual rite during the Neptunalia in July.

Ritual is an ideal way of healing transgenerational trauma. It offers a container to hold the grief. By reconnecting with Neptunus Pater, He allowed me to move the trauma from the present to the past. Stoicism had allowed my family to survive this tragedy. We never mentioned their names again. I released the trauma through radical inclusion by acknowledging those lost at sea.

Meanwhile, I have also made peace with the Dolphins, His Messengers. I forgave Them for not saving my family, and understood that guiding my family to the Afterlife was equally as important. The name of the blog is our reaffirmed relationship with each other.

“Sea Fever” by John Masefield (1878 – 1967, English)

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

Works Used

Patricia Kathleen Robertson, “Connect With Your Ancestors.” 2017. Peaceful Possibilities Press: Calgary (CAN).
—, “Let Your Tears Flow.” 2017.
—, “Step Into the Light.” 2019

The Values of Rökkatru: Part 1

What exactly the values of Rökkatru are tend to be defined by how people understand and experience the Rökkr themselves, and yet there are general ideas about what these values are that seem to be more or less agreed upon. What this means is that Rökkatru read and analyze the lore, and take what they learn from this together with what they’ve learned from their personal spiritual experiences with the Rökkr, as well as common shared personal gnosis, to form an idea of what value or “lesson” each entity in the Rökkr pantheon teaches.

This is part of the reason why defining the pantheon itself—who is included and who isn’t—is an important question. Regardless of whether or not that question has been properly answered (given that depending on who you ask some entities may or may not on the list of Rökkr), we can look at the values that individual Rökkr are generally considered to teach, especially the ones that have been written of. It is also feasible from this starting point to begin analyzing the lore around other entities whose values may not have been explored or defined yet, as well as meditating, journeying, and divining to learn more about these beings and what they represent.

Let’s begin first with those beings that are consistently counted among the Rökkr, and take a look at what their values are generally considered to be:

Loki is in many ways considered the “father” of the Rökkr pantheon, given that he fathered Fenrir, Hela, and Jörmungandr with Angrboda. It is his family that clearly makes up the core Rökkr pantheon, and as a result he holds a place of prominence and importance among to Rökkatru.

Though outside of the Rökkatru and Lokean communities Loki is often known as a liar due to his nature as a trickster, within the communities which hail him it is this very nature that lends to him being associated with the value of self-knowledge. Through his stories harsh truths are often faced or stated, often unwillingly. This isn’t something that Loki only does to others, as seen in Lokasenna. It is something that Loki often undergoes in the stories himself, when he is forced to own up to mistakes he’s made or tricks he’s played and fix them.

In addition to this, many Rökkatru and Lokeans describe a relationship with Loki that demands that they be honest with themselves. Honesty with the self is often described as being a precursor to being able to speak hard truths to others. For this reason, a lot of people will describe this value not as self-knowledge, but as self-truth or self-honesty.

Angrboda can be considered the “mother” of the Rökkr in the same way that Loki can be considered the father. In some ways she may considered as even more deeply rooted in the Rökkr pantheon than Loki: to the best of our knowledge she has never lived among the Æsir and her only tie to them is through Loki, who has made a home among them. She is jötunn through and through.

Very little is known about Angrboda from the lore. She is believed by many to be the volva from Voluspa and is known as the mother of Loki’s monstrous children, but there isn’t much else to go off of. She is a jötunn, however, and the lore makes very clear that the jötnar are an incredibly diverse lot: they are described in all manner of shapes, forms, and sizes. There doesn’t seem to be one single idea of what a jötunn must look like.

Beyond the little that we know from the lore, in modern practice many people associate Angrboda with strength and leadership, particularly in often being viewed as a powerful figure among the jötnar of the Ironwood. This is drawn not only from scholarly inferences and extrapolations (from mentions of an unnamed jötunn woman in Járnvid or the Ironwood in both Voluspa as well as Gylfaginning) but is also informed by Unverified Personal Gnosis (UPG) and Peer or Community Verified Personal Gnosis (PVPG / CVPG).

Due to this association not only of Angrboda as a mother of Rökkr but also as a chief or leader among the jötnar, she is strongly associated with diversity (recall how diverse in shape and form the jötnar are). It is due to this that her value is so often considered to be diversity, and unconditional acceptance of that diversity. On the Northern Tradition Paganism website it is stated that, “Being close to Nature, [the jötnar] understand that diversity is survival and strength, while homogeneity is inevitable weakness.” This is something we do see in nature: homogeneity is often related to genetic bottlenecks, which can be linked to weakened immunity and increases in genetic mishaps that result in overall negatively impacted health.

Given that the jötnar are so closely tied with nature and are represented so diversely, it only makes sense that they should be associated with diversity and the strength. Because Angrboda is often recognized as a very prominent jötnar, it is equally logical that she should be seen as carrying that value of diversity.

I might add that values of acceptance and community would be closely tied with that of diversity, not only because of how we see these three values interconnecting in our world but also because of Angrboda’s assumed position within a community of such diverse entities that are welcomed and accepted no matter their shape, color, or presentatation.

Fenrir is perhaps the most demonized and disdained of Angrboda and Loki’s children. A monstrously sized wolf, he is prophesied to devour Odin at Ragnarok, and otherwise wreak havoc and destruction at this time. It is for this reason that he is bound by the Æsir, during which Tyr sacrificed his hand to Fenrir as a means of gaining Fenrir’s cooperation in their “game.”

Due to this prophecy, which is referred to several times throughout the Eddas, Fenrir is primarily associated with destruction and forces of destruction. This is sometimes generalized to include unbridled chaos and even rage or anger. As such, Fenrir is associated with all those things that we dislike, try to avoid, and in our own selves try to repress or cut out of ourselves.

Because of this Fenrir has become very closely associated with the concept of the shadow or shadow self. This concept originates with Jung’s archetypes, and, simply put, represents the idea that there are parts of ourselves that we want to shut away and not acknowledge, typically the parts of us that are not considered societally acceptable—the parts of ourselves that are violent, sexual, crude, vulgar.

So Fenrir’s value or rule has come to be shadow, or, more specifically, acknowledging and honoring the shadow. This is closely linked with Loki’s values, as one much first be honest with one’s self and know one’s self before they can truly learn to accept, be at peace with, work with, and honor your shadow.

Hela is the goddess of one of Heathenry’s underwolds/afterlives. She rules over Hel (the place with which she shares a name), the realm where those who die of old age, illness, etc. go to reside after death. (As an aside: Huginn’s Heathen Hoff has featured a lovely blog post about how the Heathen afterlife is much more complex than is often realized).

Obviously Hela is most strongly linked with death. In the lore her most prominent presence is in the myth of Baldr’s death, and beyond this there is little else recorded about her beside her notable appearance and her relationship to Angrboda and Loki.

Death’s vision is much different than that of life—it sees what may be overlooked or even unseeable by life, it sees farther than any life can stretch, and in itself is both a truly neutral and truly equalizing force. Think of the Rider Waite Death Card: even kings and popes must come to Death’s door eventually, just as must all others. Because of these factors, Hela’s value has come to be known as vision or perspective.

 

Jörmungandr is the giant serpent prophesied to kill Thor during Ragnarok, just as Fenrir is prophesied to kill Odin. The perpetual enemy of Thor and child of Angrboda and Loki, Jörmungandr was said to live in the oceans of Midgard (our world) and to have grown so long that his body could coil around the earth.

Jörmungandr is a creature of the in-between, born of Jötunheim but cast to Midgard. The serpent is also felt by some (in UPG/PVPG) to be of ambiguous gender. Snakes have also historically often been associated with death and rebirth due to the shedding of their skins—things which live on the edge of human consciousness and are associated with transition.

These things lend well to defining Jörmungandr’s as liminality. Liminal times and places are often associated with great spiritual and magical power in many European traditions. Translated into more mundane times and places, when humans find themselves in spaces that are liminal they often also find that they places are horribly uncomfortable—and can be periods of some of our most intense growth, depending upon the individuals and circumstances involved. The value of liminality here may be a reminder that these difficult and uncomfortable spaces can be acknowledged, accepted, and valued, respected, and even productively worked with, much in the way that Fenrir reminds us to approach the shadow.