When Lines Blur

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You might be aware that it happens but you don’t think it’ll happen to you: You think you know a Guy and suddenly He might be someone else. Perhaps the One you’ve been praying to for month or year – or decades – slips off the mask and a new face appears. A new form, unfamiliar faces, unexpected attributes rise to the surface of Their presentation and you’re left feeling confused, betrayed, and upset.

Have the emotions been lies? Have the words They’ve spoken been falsehoods to lure you into believing something that wasn’t ever true? What of the promises made, the vows spoken, the ordeals undertaken, the faith kept? Can you trust anything They’ve said at all? Can you trust yourself anymore?

It happens. It happens more than you might expect. In fact, for polytheists this kind of categorical disruption is almost – but not quite – entirely  normal.

Except that it’s not, you know? The books don’t mention that the Gods can change. Our kindred leaders and religious guides don’t talk about the time that Anubis was Coyote was Aphrodite. We don’t swap stories at meetups about confused identities and the complex knotted mess of faith and vows and promises left in the wake of Their coming out. This experience is turned into a solitary ordeal endured quietly in the most private corners of our hearts and minds. This happens because not only have we individually been chastised for being too emotional, too devoted, too enthusiastic in our embrace of a divinity, but because we now have to admit that – on some level – we were wrong.

In that admission is an immense ocean of tumultuous accusation. We should have known better. We should have studied harder. We should have joined an orthodox group instead of striking out on our own with our cat spirits and faery guides and dream life lived Somewhere Else. We should have stopped watching anime in high school. We should have read a scholarly book or two. We should have listened to our elders – you know, the ones who never told us that anything could go wrong on the path to spiritual growth.

It’s a lie, you know. It’s all a lie.

I’ll tell you a truth: You’re not wrong.

You’re not wrong to experience the Gods changing shape. You’re not wrong to experience the blurring of lines, the erasure of titles, the disruption of names and familiar forms.

The lie is that this never happens. The lie is that you’re doing it wrong if it happens.

That’s not a lie I’m willing to perpetuate.

This kind of disruption happens for many, many, many reasons, not all of which are even able to be spoken aloud. Some of these reasons are for the Gods themselves to explain to you, in Their own words, in Their own time. Some of these reasons are for you to discover yourself as you experience the unpleasant growth that is forced during this period.

You’re not wrong to feel this way.

You’re not wrong to want to pitch the whole thing, to toss it in the dumpster in the alley out back, to fling the books out of the window of a moving car, to delete your blogs and Facebooks and emails and mailing list memberships. You’re not wrong to want to change your name.

There is no easy way out of this. Sorry/not sorry. This experience is the path teaching you something that you need to know. I can’t tell you what that thing is because there are lots of possible lessons to learn in this. It might be that you need to get to know yourself a whole lot better. It might be that you need to exercise that backbone you just grew. It might be that you need to let go of what you thought you know, what you trusted because someone else told you was true. It might be that you need to grow the truth for yourself and that can only happen through personal lived experience.

Names, forms, attributes – these things are mostly convenient for us. The Powers don’t need them in the same way we do; they have a very different relationship to Their names and forms and attributes than we do. However, They have a degree of ownership over these things that gives Them permission to move them about as They wish. The Powers reveal chosen names and forms and attributes as They wish, when and where and to whom They wish. This isn’t done necessarily to frustrate or hurt us. Usually it’s to teach us something very important about how we should – or could – relate to Them.

Though I said that many, many possible lessons might come from this experience, there is one that I feel is especially relevant to any polytheist, devotionally-identified or not, and that is to let Them be as They wish to be. If we accept that the Powers have wills and desires of Their own, then it follows that They would have preferences regarding how They are related to by us (collectively and individually). The Power in your life might be getting tired of living up to the role of wacky sidekick, stern uncle, or distant mother. They might wish to express Themselves on Their own terms and so are leading you to acknowledge different sides of Them through the adoption of unfamiliar guises and behaviors.

You might discover that you really were talking to an entirely different Power than you thought you were. You might also discover that They were really only just Themselves all along.

New Odin devotional book and a giveaway!

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The hand made Odin devotional books are now available on my Etsy store! I’m very excited to finally have these available.

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I’m really pleased with how these have turned out and I’m excited to share them with other people who love and care for this very important Power.

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Odin is family in no small way. I know Him best as wanderer, mage, and wild loner much more than I do as king. I celebrate His presence in my life, even if I am generally unaware of how close He is or how frequently He drops by. I’ve been blessed to know many of His people and it’s with them in mind that this is primarily offered.

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA   I currently have four copies available for sale; a fifth is already spoken for. When these sell out it’ll take me at least a week to make more so this is a good time to get a copy for yourself. I can also make a custom copy of the devotional with different decorative cover paper, with large print, or with the OpenDyslexia font.

To celebrate this new devotional, I’m running a giveaway on my other crafty blog. To participate, all you have to do is comment and let me know you want to be entered. The contest runs between now and Monday, May 4 2015 at 11:59 PM (Mountain Time). A random drawing for one volume will take place on Tuesday morning. Just to keep things organized, I ask that contest participants not indicate their entry here.

Thanks for being patient with my absence. Book making takes a lot of effort but I sure do love it. Thanks again, and hail Odin!

What’s in a Name

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Several years ago I participated in a course of focused education offered by a local kink-oriented group. I chose to participate for several reasons  and found it educational in several ways, not all of which were necessarily positive. Near the end of my time with this group, one woman – ostensibly in a leadership position – chose to challenge us on the topic of names. Though I suppose her reasons for doing so were grounded in some sort of altruistic aspiration, that aspiration was also tinged with a deep ribbon of selfish desire for control and leverage.

Names in the BDSM and kinky communities have some similarities to names in the greater Pagan and polytheist communities. We choose the names we use in these circles to represent something very particular about ourselves and to communicate with our peers in a way that is specifically meaningful to us individually and us in a community sense. Names are also a safeguard against being outed and against plain old social awkwardness when two radically different spheres of our lives collide.

Though this instructor’s desire to help us strip away false fronts and confront our emotionally authentic selves was, in its own way, altruistic, it was driven by a desire for private knowledge. There are some people in this world who love a secret. They love to hold it and cherish it like it’s some kind of hidden treasure saved up against a day when a secret will be needed to leverage some advantage. And that’s exactly what this woman was doing. Her desire for our secret names was about much more than the moment we were sharing in this discussion.

This kind of behavior is actually quite familiar to transpeople. Though anyone who has deliberately chosen a name for themselves later in life might well face this sort of conflict, there is a particular malevolence surrounding the extraction of a “real” name from a transperson. Even if the coaxing is sweet, gentle, covered in lovely sentiment, the desire and the attempts to draw it out is virtually always at the expense of the person whose name is being challenged.

These attempts at naming are weird, rude, intrusive, and in my case at least, spiritually violent.

Many years ago I had a different name. Someone gave it to me and it stuck firmly in place. Even if it sounded strange sometimes and if I couldn’t mentally grasp its contours if I thought about it too hard, it was mine and I knew that fact when I heard it. I could encounter it written and that little cerebral jump of recognition would result. I knew what that word meant. It meant me.

Nearly ten years ago I took a basket of baked goods to Helheim. I handed it to Garm and continued on my way. Not much later I was laying on the hard rocky soil of the grey-brown-red underworld with an enormous spear stuck through my chest. My eyes were plucked out by slender white hands. I bled out and died.

My physical body woke up and I was empty. The meat was electrified but there was nothing inside. I seconds I was asleep and I don’t remember dreaming.

What followed were several years of slowly, painfully, gradually learning the finer points of embodiment. I learned how to reoccupy the mortal world and tried to get my spirit to fit my body. The mental journal of those years were exceptionally painful, not the least because My Lord was absent for a long period. I wasn’t the same person that had gone to sleep. I had woken up different. I didn’t recognize the memories in my head even if they were attached to me. The best metaphor I was ever able to come up with was that of inheriting an enormous and richly furnished mansion that had belonged to an elderly aunt I never even knew existed and it was suddenly my job to handle all her things after her passing.

Of all the things lost and found during that transition, perhaps the strangest and most fundamental was the loss of the name. I didn’t have one. Hearing it was the worst, most cutting insult, the most alien and inappropriate sound ever made. It slid off, bounced off, simply dropped away from my psychic person.

I tried on different names in my head but none of them quite fit, either. I discussed all this with the Lady In Question, who had conducted me through this exchange, who had taken my brown eyes and given me gold ones, who lurked in the corner like a lonely hologram when all other Powers went away. I knew I had to earn a name but that was the only guidance I was given.

I did, eventually. I pursued the course set in front of me and as soon as I took the first definitive step, I was given a name. And I knew that name was me and I knew that I was that name. It stuck firmly and would cut through any surrounding volume of sound and yank my attention. I would see it in writing and my eyes would flick to it; I knew it deeply and I recognized it.

I earned it. It was mine.

So when this unpleasant woman demanded my real name, I told her. She said no, and I said yes. I knew what my name was. I had earned it. The goddess of death and rebirth, of rot and renewal had given it to me. Anything less than that was a false front, a matrix for engagement in systems that would crumble into dust while Her appellation remained.

Today the name doesn’t work quite so well. As My Lady giveth, she taketh away. When I was kicked out of the company for failing at some task, she took the passcodes and protocols that let me journey with relative freedom and safety. All company property was revoked, including my name. It still functions in a very limited way but each time it’s spoken I hear the inauthentic quality behind it. No one believes it. No one believes it. It’s a hollow noise, not much better than any other word. But I still recognize it in writing. I see it on the page and I still know myself.

Last week Facebook took my name away. It took away the face I use to interact with a large portion of my social world. I hadn’t even wanted an account in the first place but in college I had a leadership position in the queer kids’ club and I needed to use whatever social media was most popular so I made an account. That was in 2008. For seven years I’ve used FB without ever being challenged on a first and last name that are both incredibly silly.

But see, it wasn’t just Facebook that took my name away. It was someone who decided that my name was inauthentic, unreal, false, contrived. Someone took it upon themselves to police the naming of others, to judge if our names – whether earned, given, or chosen – were real or not. Someone did this to me.

This isn’t the first time that someone has felt entitled to decide which name of mine is real. It won’t be the last. I accept My Lady’s right to give and revoke; I’m subject to Her decisions of what name of mine is real or not. Currently none are. That’s my own fault and my own problem. As far as human-level engagement is concerned, the name is still valid. It’s still real.

I miss my FB account because I miss my friends, their pictures, and their pets. I miss what they’re up to. I miss the convenience of knowing which social events I’ll be too tired to go to and I miss staying in touch with people who live a long way from me. But I lived many years without FB and I will live many more years without it. It is not necessary even if it is rather convenient. (It’s also an enormous time-sink!)

My relationship with names is somewhat unique and I imagine that the story of my name is not over yet. Maybe someday I’ll even earn it back. In the meantime, I don’t get to forget the complexity of the authentic and the desire of others to control the deployment of authenticity. I just shrug and know that when they and their systems are dust the fact of my naming will remain.

Rest

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The topic of disability has been on my mind quite a bit this month and not just because several people I know have written about it in various online outlets. It’s been, in my parlance, not a great health month. This is different than a normal health month or a bad health month. It’s something in between. It speaks to both the unexpected nature of chronic health problems and the difficulty in managing the myriad expressions of those problems and negotiating the impact that those expressions have on the rest of my life.

Without going into exhausting and tedious detail, I have a grab-bag assortment of health problems are not all that unusual and some of which are co-morbid. I have chronic pain due to an advanced case of degenerative disc disorder in my cervical vertebrae; my neck x-rays show my bones curving the wrong way though it’s not terribly noticeable under normal circumstances (I tend to walk with my head and neck forward which is a habit borne of bad postures and anxiety as much as structural problems and is a habit I’m working on correcting for my self-esteem as well as my muscle tone). I also have persistent pain in my right knee due to a bad fall I took as a junior in college. I stumbled on a bit of uneven sidewalk and toppled sideways. Nothing was broken but nothing was normal after that, either. That’s why I walk with a cane sometimes.

I’ve also got some metabolic/endocrine problems that are all more or less crammed into the medical catch-all bin labeled PCOS/syndrome X/metabolic disorder/sorta kinda type 2 diabetes. (This bin is imprecisely labeled in my personal case; other people have much more clearly defined diagnoses.) After several years of not having the medication I need to control this, I’m finally back on it for the time being (it’s the $500 stuff that nearly went bad when my fridge quit – it’s back working, yay!!). That could change in a few months. This knotted mess of disorders might not seem quite as disabling as, say, chronic pain is but in its own way, it can be. (There’s also some unclearly defined mental illness that is its own knotted mess of debilitating symptoms but perhaps that’s a post for another day.)

I rather fliply commented the other day that rest is not a choice I have. I’m kind of forced into it – and this weekend I was.

A sugar crash is a frightening and debilitating experience. No matter how many of them I’ve experienced, there’s always an element of fear because I know that if I don’t fix this problem right away, everything will get much worse. They happen very fast and there’s not always much warning. Just suddenly I’m cold and dizzy and my head feels tight. I start to feel weak and disembodied; my muscles don’t want to reach or hold or grasp or clench. Pretty soon I start to tremble uncontrollably; this gets worse until it gets better. The spaced out feeling intensifies, as does the cold, tingling feeling.

A quick dose of sugar will begin to fix things but it can take up to 20 or 30 minutes before my system starts to feel recovered. Ideally this sugar should be followed with some protein or complex carbs for a slow release of nutrients.

Even though my system feels recovered I’m entirely exhausted by the occurrence. On Friday I was so worn out I couldn’t sit up. Lying in bed felt like too much work. It took something like 40 minutes just to get up the strength to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water and then I’d be back in bed for another 40+ minutes. This happened in the late morning. The rest of my day was spent more or less in bed. It didn’t matter that I had 2 jobs that needed my attention that day. Nothing was going to happen.

This is not unusual. This is generally how it is. Even if I eat all the right things at exactly the right time, some unknown factor pushes my system the wrong way and everything comes crashing down.

Rest can feel like its own kind of tyranny because once the reserves of the body and mind are exhausted, the biological mechanism itself refuses to do any more. It’s not laziness. It’s not lack of motivation. It’s not a de-incentivizing of active productivity. It’s a biological fact, the same as thirst or a bleeding cut. You can’t *not* pay attention to it after a certain point. There might be a certain wiggle room with regards to precisely how and when that fact is attended to, but it always must be. Else it will halt everything and you’ll be forced to deal with it.

As a result of this particular sugar crash I spent most of the weekend in bed. Spending a day in bed after such an event isn’t unusual but still feeling the effects 36+ hours afterward is. And like so many other disabling conditions and resource-intensive health concerns, spending several days taking care of this concern has caused the rest of my routine to get shuffled down the priority list. My apartment is not as clean as I like it to be on a Monday. Most of my dishes are in the sink. The kitchen is full of this weekend’s recycling. My meals for the next few days haven’t been cooked or prepped.

Rest is a reality whether I want it to be or not. Unfortunately, even a weekend of rest isn’t going to return me to some predictable level of high energy and ability. I might have to cope with other health issues (like a migraine that tagged itself into the game a couple times over the weekend) or I might have to toss out the priority list again for a work-related deadline that requires what energy I’ve collected.

My life is a cycle of rest and recovery. In this, I’m not different than anyone else. What is perhaps different is the disabling nature of sugar crashes and the all-consuming quality of the rest that is forced to follow. The frequency of these occurrences and their unpredictable nature also makes them rather debilitating This cycle curtails what I get to do with my time and it limits my options in many different ways.

I spent all weekend working on this post not just because I wanted to add some of my own words to the larger conversation happening about disability and the way it impacts our daily choices. I also wanted to explain why I’ve been away from the blog lately. I’ve been resting and when I recover, I have other more pressing priorities that require my energy and attention. I miss being here though, so you can feel confident that I’ll be back sooner or later.

Busy with life

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My blog has been a bit neglected the past few weeks. I’ve been quite busy with other things and haven’t had the time or energy to give this much attention. What have I been up to?

This month I’ve spent a lot of time trying to earn the money required to attend Many Gods West. I’d like to purchase my plane ticket by the end of the month so the rates don’t spike but flying out on Sunday night adds an extra $80+. Staying an extra night with a friend and leaving Monday morning would keep the cost down but that would involve me missing some time at work; I can make that up but it’s just another thing to worry about once I get home.

I’ve also been making several books to fill orders placed for the Loki devotionals and in anticipation of vending at an art/craft fair in the next several weeks. The sales I’ve made have made an enormous difference. Even though the amount of money I’ve earned thus far is not in itself very large, it has helped me get ahead of some of my expenses so I can comfortably set aside a few dollars in anticipation of MGW. If you’re willing to take a moment to share the availability of the Loki devotionals and my other items, this would be a big help. (And really, the support you guys have shown for this little project has been wonderful. I’m very grateful.)

Oh, and if you’re in the mood to help other MGW presenters, take a look at this IndieGoGo campaign. https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/attending-many-gods-west

April has also been a bit of a not-great health month. I had to stop one of my prescriptions quite suddenly because I was experiencing persistent dizzy spells. I fell twice before finally stopping the drug. I have to seek followup care which proved to be much harder than I anticipated. So I’ve been coping with the withdrawal of one drug and the preparation to begin a new one. And of course, I’ve been coping with rising pain levels for the past couple weeks, too. Nothing unmanageable but my activity is seriously arrested.

Oh, and my refrigerator has given out. I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with it. It took me almost a week to figure out that yes, something was indeed wrong with the big cold box. This was a cause for concern because not only did my groceries go bad (oh, my pomegranate molasses! Oh, my Bragg’s aminos! Oh, my knock-off veganaise!) but I have to keep some of my prescriptions refrigerated. This particular stuff is nearly $500/month at my current dosage. Needless to say I can’t actually afford this medicine but my doctor loaded me up with samples because I guess the industry has now moved on and a new flashier drug is being used instead. Losing $3000 worth of injectable drugs was just – unthinkable. I’ve been without this medicine for several years and I’ve suffered every day because of it.

Anyway, the fridge’s fan motor was replaced yesterday evening and I thought everything would be back to normal by this morning – nope. The cold part is still not cold. It’s a dank, tepid box with some rotting wheat germ. Thankfully my neighbor has been storing my meds and so they should be OK but in the meantime I’m grumpy about the extra cost of food at the end of the month.

Everything will probably work out with the refrigerator sooner or later. The landlord seems to be taking this reasonably seriously (which is good!) but in the meantime I’m still freezing and thawing my meals and eating some cheap takeout.

So that’s what I’ve been occupied with this month. I added another couple hundred words to the New Book; Heartroad 2 hasn’t been touched in quite a while. Other writing projects are also gathering dust. But, um, I’ve been beading! Yeah, beads! So it’s almost like I’ve been productive. Let’s go with that.

How I Prepare

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As of Tuesday, I have begun working on my presentation for Many Gods West. Actually, that’s not true. I began working on it a couple weeks ago when I received my notice of acceptance. On second thought – I began working on this session a few months ago when I initially sent in my proposal. Nope, that’s not right, either; I actually started sometime last year when I first got an idea for this presentation. And now that I think about it, I’ve been thinking about the purpose and value of devotional practices for…a very long time.

I’m being a little silly, of course; still, this illustrates my point that preparing to teach or present on a subject takes a whole lot more time than many people realize. More than that, every educator has a different system. This is a look at my own process.

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Catching up with…everything

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After last week’s big announcement of the hand bound Loki devotionals, I spent the weekend trying to catch up with a few important things.  At last, taxes have been taken care of, laundry done, some cooking accomplished, medical stuff addressed, and my practice routine resumed. To tell the truth, I’m a little overwhelmed at all the projects I’ve got on my plate right now. The book project I’m working on for submission to a publisher has all but stalled, Heartroad 2 is gathering cobwebs, and the article I said I’d have drafted in a month is, eh, going to take a little more time. There’s also Many Gods West to prepare for, some other craft projects that have been languishing, and a custom project that I need to get back to. Oh and, you know, the day job.

I’ve created a little schedule to keep my writing efforts focused. I work at my writing job 6 – 7 days a week in addition to my day job employment so it’s very hard to predict where my creative energy is going to be. BUT my goal is to open a particular document on particular days of the week. I don’t have to do much – I just have to do something.

So! Tuesdays will be Many Gods West material (since today is Tuesday and I decided that’s what I wanted to work on today. Tomorrow will be the article, Thursday will be Heartroad 2, Friday will be erotica for the Kindle market (I’ve written a couple pieces and eh, every $.33 sale helps). Perhaps Saturday will be the Santa Muerte writing project. Perhaps Sunday will be prepping my 2016 Pantheacon submission (because that’s a thing that needs done, too).

I’m happy to have so much work to do, even if it’s going to be tough to accomplish. For several years I hid from most forms of community engagement in order to focus on school (and let’s be honest, because the Heathen groups I was involved with collapsed into infighting, murder, and allegations of child porn so there’s that). I prefer practicing privately; I’ve become very jealous of my time and energy. In many ways I don’t want to share, not when I’ve experienced such a long track record of getting very little in return for my effort. I’m not just talking about getting back a positive community experience; the energy exchange I trusted in simply didn’t seem to come about. In many ways, I feel like I got away without sustaining more damage. I also encountered a level of conflict regarding Loki that I simply couldn’t tolerate after a while.

Community engagement can be hard for all kinds of reasons and I think there are times in all our lives when we simply don’t wish to have it in our sphere. Coping with the anger and fear and distrust and yeah, even the disgust that comes up with dealing with humanity in general has been a challenging thing for me but it’s also been a very important lesson. We must engage with humans in order to understand humans, and we must understand humans in order to represent the needs of our species to the Powers that are concerned with us. Anyone who communicates with the Powers on behalf of any human – including themselves – can’t afford to be dismissive of the human condition, including all the suffering and hypocrisy and anger and violence. These things have to be confronted, recognized, named, and dealt with on personal, interpersonal, communal, and global levels. Checking out of this work can become a disadvantage. Checking out of this work can put a worker at a disadvantage.

Setting heavier thoughts aside, there are many things to look forward to this year but managing the stress and busyness of it all will be a distinct challenge for me. In the meantime, I’m also working on preparing a handmade devotional book for Odin. I actually started planning His the day after Loki’s was finally released. I’m really excited to work on Odin’s and I’ll probably start formatting it before the month is over. Is there any traditional material related to Odin that you’d like to see in a devotional book?

Back into the stream

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I’ve had to take a break from my regular practice for the past couple weeks due to sudden and uncontrollable health stuff. One of my prescriptions has always been a little side effect-y and it ramped up pretty dangerously. Whether due to dangerously low sodium levels, neurotoxicity, or throat spiders I started having dizzy spells of increased frequency and severity. I fell down twice. It took a lot of preparation to move twelve steps from the bedroom to the kitchen and often I couldn’t do that much. Getting to various altars, stepping over mess-related obstacles, playing with fire and incense, staying standing for prayers, etc. was simply not manageable. I gave myself a medical leave for the most part. (Though I rather mourn the changing nature of my job description, I don’t miss being hauled out to Work, rain, sleet, or neurotoxicity.)

Finding a care provider on short notice was also unexpectedly difficult but I did finally manage to find someone to provide medication management. There might be a high cost involved but this was one of those situations where waiting 6 weeks for an appointment with another provider was equally dangerous in an entirely different way. I’ve also been trying to get my taxes together and once again I’m outraged and depressed at the high cost of being self-employed. In one way, having a job where I work from home is an immense luxury and privilege; on the other, health stuff/disability prevents me from having the kind of 9 – 5 job that I’d otherwise be able to. (I do have a part time desk job where I play with digital collections at a library but the pay is criminally low and it’s less than part time, so no benefits.) So basically I’ve been rather too sick to stick with my regular practice and rather too busy to let myself feel bad about it.

At the present time I’m focused primarily on building and maintaining connections with several different Powers. Different days of the week are given to Santa Muerte, the Newcomer, the Ancestors, and Hela. I’m also ready to begin (re)connecting with various entities in my neighborhood. Our garden spirit needs some attention, particularly because hir garden will soon be partially paved. The spirits in the green space down the block are quite feral but not terribly fierce. I worry about harm coming to them due to various destructive activities the neighborhood addicts and assholes engaged in (these categories don’t necessarily overlap but destruction nonetheless results).

I want to reconnect with these nearby Powers in large part because I love them and want to experience their proximity and because I’m hoping to engage in a little give-and-receive assistance. I’m concerned about the physical property I live on and what might be happening to it. I’m worried that it’s going to be sold to a party that won’t care for it the way we (the residents) do. I’m worried that the current owner is going to disregard its inherent precious character (like by paving the garden). I’m worried that rising rent is going to force me to move or to adopt an even more restricted lifestyle.

I’m also worried about reckless development, “improvements” made without regard for the wights, human activity that harms and distresses our Good Neighbors, and about their general well-being. I care a great deal for the land spirits, all of them, and for my most immediate neighbors in particular.

Ideally, a relationship with land spirits and related spirits-of-place is one that supports and promotes the interests of all parties. My goal is to create this kind of ideal relationship, or come as close to it as I’m able. Like every other human, I require a lot of help and support; unlike many other humans, I don’t get a lot of this support from other people. Since I’m limited as to what I can do for myself (we all are to one degree or another), I rely on the Powers for aid. Since the Powers are also limited in what they can do, I do my best to cultivate many different mutually beneficial connections. And this is how I imagine my life when I think of how I would most like to live.

I am not separate from the community of spirits. I’m part of their company. We are all different, distinctive entities with our own needs, desires, ambitions, fears, and teleological trajectories. At this time, in this place, we’re all together. We all benefit from aid shared; we all increase through the sharing of resources, effort, and attention. We all grow through increased understanding.

Maybe this all sounds outrageously utopian but you know what? It’s entirely possible. I’ve achieved this kind of community building with spirits and Powers before. It’s not actually that difficult. Sure, you’ll find locations with really pissed off land spirits that want nothing to do with humanity, but you’ll also find wights who are quite interested in forming beneficial connections with us. After all, you’ll find plenty of people who are disdainful of humanity, dismissive of suffering, unwilling to share, angry at the prospect of helping or providing for others, and resentful at any trend towards equity. You’ll also find people who are very willing to engage in sharing and a dialogue towards understanding, compassion, empathy, and aid. Spirits, like people, have to be met where they are, on their own terms. I look forward to this work and I am humbled by its magnitude.

Hand bound Loki devotional books and much more

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Finally I can share the project I’ve been working so hard on for the last several weeks. I’m now offering hand bound copies of Loki devotional books in my Etsy shop.

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These devotionals contain an English translation of both the Lokasenna from the Poetric Edda and Lokka Tattur (Loki’s Tale), a traditional ballad from the Faeroe Islands.

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These are exceptionally lovely little books and they’re a genuine labor of love. If you would like a copy for yourself with larger font size, a different font face (including OpenDyslexia), or with a different decorative cover, then just use the custom listing.

I’m truly honored to be offering these little books to other devotional practitioners, especially other friends and lovers of Loki. In gratitude to Him for all He’s done and to celebrate the body of worshipers I’m part of, a portion of each sale of the Loki devotional book will be set into a fund that will help make discounted copies available from time to time.

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I’m also now offering custom devotional books with *your* own content. This is the perfect way to collect prayers, hymns, petitions, short stories, and other content into a unique and beautiful volume. These collections can be placed on your altar, given as a special gift, or used as an offering (I can use natural paste if you wish to burn, bury, or drown your offering).

I look forward to creating many more of these special devotional books, so please share this post. If you’d like to see some more pictures of my hand made books and other items, please check out my other blog.

Altar candle

3 Comments

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Earlier this week I received a coffee-scented Loki candle made by Beth (aka FiberWytch). It’s really lovely. The scent wafted out of the package and the wax actually exudes a nice warm, spicy, sweet scent just hanging out.
 MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERABut of course, candles are made for burning! It’s wonderful. Beth makes some lovely soap as well as candles, so there’s really something for everyone.