tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43239660664056136412024-03-04T21:28:16.930-08:00Journeys of the RunesJourneys in the Otherworld inspired by the Elder FutharkAwenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-80983459324063402722016-07-24T17:38:00.000-07:002016-07-24T17:38:58.023-07:00Mannaz; Relationship<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR9BmpWfQUV59tN3FXhlMAJ4uBeIxlREgOA3Dc4ssWmj4bmJATKeJqfhj4G5hXYAdco6VoxfNrQ0GUNeTkOyXno4yk8Mpqp6DbA_w6NAro5dBnSWL1ihzYuzwaMrKiqDG5K4ZKK8oUHPGH/s1600/300px-PSM_V46_D665_Helen_Keller_and_her_teacher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR9BmpWfQUV59tN3FXhlMAJ4uBeIxlREgOA3Dc4ssWmj4bmJATKeJqfhj4G5hXYAdco6VoxfNrQ0GUNeTkOyXno4yk8Mpqp6DbA_w6NAro5dBnSWL1ihzYuzwaMrKiqDG5K4ZKK8oUHPGH/s400/300px-PSM_V46_D665_Helen_Keller_and_her_teacher.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped through the Door and over the Threshold into the
Otherworld. I found myself in the
hallway of my childhood home. I was
dressed in black, for my brother’s funeral and was standing at the door to what
had been his room when we were children.
I knocked on the door and opened it and stepped inside. It was as I remembered it being when we last both
lived there in our late twenties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was no longer dressed in black. I was no longer my current
age. He was not in the room but, his
dirty work clothes were on the floor and I could smell the cologne he used to
wear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I left his room and when I closed the door, and was again
my current age and wearing my funeral dress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I returned to the Threshold and closed the Door behind
me, the Mannaz Rune had faded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-91775407033687426992016-07-06T19:02:00.001-07:002016-07-06T19:02:26.597-07:00Jera; the Harvest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxCHnyGOfiLsbLODmlg94Fk9EGBiG09ORGZq3lTGWuwVOfvJ-Adh9HExs8VTXQcWVUH69S09wL1mEcdqPFDFveeJP-DcGeSHLn_s4V-ExNdIkB6tMnaBpeg4V0XEwCE5GnrDWeolFM5rV/s1600/painting1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBxCHnyGOfiLsbLODmlg94Fk9EGBiG09ORGZq3lTGWuwVOfvJ-Adh9HExs8VTXQcWVUH69S09wL1mEcdqPFDFveeJP-DcGeSHLn_s4V-ExNdIkB6tMnaBpeg4V0XEwCE5GnrDWeolFM5rV/s320/painting1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The Door of warm golden wood was carved with Jera, surrounded
by a wreath of apples and leaves. </span><span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I
opened the door and stepped over the threshold and into the Otherworld.</span><span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I looked at my feet but they were hidden
beneath the hem of a burgundy silk gown. </span><span style="font-family: 'monotype corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The floor was stone, like the Tower itself but covered in soft colorful
rugs. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I looked around and found myself in a large room lit with
lanterns and a fire burning in the hearth at one end.</span><span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">The air smelled of cinnamon and fresh baked bread.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> In the center of the
room was a long wooden table dressed in gold and red brocade and filled with an
abundance of food. Platters and bowls
and baskets filled with honey glazed ham, fresh bread and hard cheese, apples
and peaches and berries, pitchers of cider and wine, and vases of roses and autumn
flowers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dancing music filled the room and the sound of laugher and
cheerful conversation. The chairs around
the table were filled with the harvest of a life lived well, family of blood
and family of choice, lovers and dear friends, and children who have not yet
been born. My heart was filled with love
and hope and joy at the sight and sound of these beloved ones. </span><span style="font-family: 'monotype corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">This is the harvest I hope for. Beloveds who are happy and well. Being surrounded by them in celebration of
life. May my Gods grant me this
harvest. So mote it be.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I spent a long time enjoying the company and when I became
tired I fell asleep in a soft comfortable chair beside the fire with a babe in
my arms. When I woke I was again in the
mundane world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-3023137137179251352016-07-04T12:24:00.001-07:002016-07-04T12:24:44.504-07:00Berkano; Birch and Beginnings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNnPFD7tpwHYmxDjhJ-VdMmAr2rAPIKQUczcVb2YsiOpPP_zar9kKIHP4_SZBhN0dCuWPJb_MSD4E84Y9jdioV8gEPe8CmCf604j4kdK2rlR7jCr5tlQhv80NSaK-2c5x7Te3qKxfGkTu/s1600/away-983508_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNnPFD7tpwHYmxDjhJ-VdMmAr2rAPIKQUczcVb2YsiOpPP_zar9kKIHP4_SZBhN0dCuWPJb_MSD4E84Y9jdioV8gEPe8CmCf604j4kdK2rlR7jCr5tlQhv80NSaK-2c5x7Te3qKxfGkTu/s400/away-983508_960_720.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Door with Berkano inscribed upon it was covered in white
Birch-bark, and when I opened the Door and crossed the threshold into the Otherworld
I found myself in a grove of Birch Trees.
My own skin was white and papery like the bark on the trees. I wandered among them and the conversation
was of beginnings, and giving birth. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was instructed that my life is about to begin a new book,
it is filled with clean white blank pages and my responsibility is to write
upon those pages a story of truth, and love, and peace. I am to create poetry of joy and pleasure and
wisdom and healing. I do not get to
decide all of the plot twists, only how I respond to them. I do not get to know everything about the
journey of the story, only how to tell it, and to whom. It is beginning. The past exists in other books that I have
written, and they inform the story, they are my back-story but, the time has
come to start again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
May I tell this story well, and may it create magick that
makes my world a better place for small growing things. So Mote It Be! </div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-20691012954571755192016-07-04T12:00:00.000-07:002016-07-04T12:00:21.465-07:00Kenaz; the Light of Knowledge and Truth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbfNRDhLRpdM-stW8Lgq7-rI1nedeT_9k_EvCjKrXcno3VvEETTK_moKDepdISWkgAluQimnROQLvr44PpIQJjegkoPixpOccx9EwFv5Q3BAn2CtL2G0YGN2d0IsEBz3QW5kaOycQ39p-/s1600/5b18dac575e7a11b7bf4c34c09ebfc40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbfNRDhLRpdM-stW8Lgq7-rI1nedeT_9k_EvCjKrXcno3VvEETTK_moKDepdISWkgAluQimnROQLvr44PpIQJjegkoPixpOccx9EwFv5Q3BAn2CtL2G0YGN2d0IsEBz3QW5kaOycQ39p-/s400/5b18dac575e7a11b7bf4c34c09ebfc40.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As I descended the stairs in the Tower, I noticed the lanterns
upon the walls, illuminating the stairs so that I could descend them in
safety. The door was inscribed with
Kenaz and a lantern hung above the Rune.
I opened the Door and crossed the threshold into the Otherworld and
found myself in a large Library. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There were books and scrolls everywhere, on shelves against
the walls reaching stories upwards towards the ceiling, on tables in the center
where someone had been working diligently in study. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lamps and lanterns glowed everywhere
illuminating the space with warm golden light.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was beautiful and I was filled with joy and pleasure at
the sight and the warm power of the place. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I wandered, finding a book in my hand and enjoying the firm ornate
covering and the crisp clean pages and the words in neat print, then a soft, worn,
leather tome with gilded edges on the soft delicate pages, then a plain ragged paperback
with handwritten poetry. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Each was a
treasure of great worth to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The words in one book reminded me that knowledge is Power,
and that words hold Power. Truth is Power. Stories are a way of using that Power
to create a better world, Stories and Poetry are magick, they can inspire and invoke and enchant. They can change the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My purpose in this world is about communication; poetry,
and storytelling, and teaching knowledge, and telling truth. My purpose is to help others find the candles, and light the lanterns, and teach them where to find the Library, and how to
read the words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-50595361476642701462016-05-02T18:03:00.002-07:002016-05-03T17:28:59.048-07:00Gebo; the Gift of Joining<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeo31HmtosnidWI58PMqpQ0Yce6zkidzTHlZVF47tqn_FlT01ypAzJvSBaDm1HIb6940hvpHAoNPVZcJmDNnl7zQDMr2aJ2dk58PykVx_E_A_igqgkKz-kii28pLW5WrUkdCpI0iyn_AL7/s1600/maypole-top.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeo31HmtosnidWI58PMqpQ0Yce6zkidzTHlZVF47tqn_FlT01ypAzJvSBaDm1HIb6940hvpHAoNPVZcJmDNnl7zQDMr2aJ2dk58PykVx_E_A_igqgkKz-kii28pLW5WrUkdCpI0iyn_AL7/s320/maypole-top.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt;">I
stepped over the threshold into the Otherworld and looked at my feet. </span><span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt;">I was standing upon the soft new grass of a
warm spring day and my bare feet were almost hidden under the hem of a party
dress the color of new willow leaves.</span><span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14pt;">When I lifted my gaze, I found myself on a gentle slope in the morning sun.
There were others there, all dressed in brightly colored finery.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A
tall pole stood in the center of the meadow, colorful ribbons dancing in the
breeze. And at the other side of the
gathering stood two people, their hands joined and, smiles upon their faces. The two gazed lovingly into one another’s
eyes, as if they were oblivious to any but the other, and I felt profoundly
blessed to be present, and grateful to witness the gift of their joining.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt;">The
assembled celebrated with cheers and laughter, dancing and singing to the music
that came from a small group of musicians sitting close to the Maypole. I danced
and sang among them for as long as I could and when I felt the time had come for
me to go, I offered a blessing upon the couple and took my leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-44099388041473503972015-12-12T18:33:00.003-08:002015-12-12T18:33:19.351-08:00Eihwaz; Trees of Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgvz7dKmpJmwFpBJY_h1X6rtxh_L2CZ0rW0cBuplQR47Fwj2x8ipa1Sx3rln6xxpPcYJhnvnMJWK0U8jmwj7kYNUkZg05acUwSD5QCinjD0ROrHbnNHHVuu-EuCr8spn__F0F5keCrB4V/s1600/oak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgvz7dKmpJmwFpBJY_h1X6rtxh_L2CZ0rW0cBuplQR47Fwj2x8ipa1Sx3rln6xxpPcYJhnvnMJWK0U8jmwj7kYNUkZg05acUwSD5QCinjD0ROrHbnNHHVuu-EuCr8spn__F0F5keCrB4V/s400/oak.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I opened the door, stepped into the
Otherworld, and looked at my feet. They were covered in bark, my legs and arms
in soft green moss. My dress was made of leaves of every color. The path beneath
me, a carpet of soft brown pine-needles, cushioned my every step in the
dim twilight. The forest was old-growth,
the trees ancient. All was silence and the whispers of stars.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I followed the wide gently sloping path through the woods, noticing
Trees of every species I know. They were
each familiar to me. The willow next to
the house I grew up in, the Maple in the yard of my best friend. The Pine on the hill behind the cottage at
the lake. The Paper Birch in the neighbor’s front yard. The Apple in the Orchard, the Cherry in the cemetery
where the soldier and the baby are buried.
The Sycamore next to the stream. The Oak in the park where I lived the past 20 years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I followed the path through the woods until I came to a
clearing. At the center stood a Tree so
large the branches were too high for me to see.
I stood upon the roots, close enough to place my hand upon the trunk, and
I offered energy through my hands, and then I could feel my ancestors sending energy
up through my feet to flow through my hands to the tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could feel the strength of the Tree, holding up the
universe, lending support and structure to the flow of Life itself. Providing a channel for the energy to flow to and from the Underworld, the Upperworld,
and all the Otherworlds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "monotype corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I gave thanks to the Tree and returned the way I had come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-28190696874090242862014-06-28T15:47:00.001-07:002014-06-28T15:47:51.589-07:00Laguz; the Temple of Sorrows and the Queen of the Abyss<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg18Q8KtZoh2dz15ES6mwXTjoBQuQPk6ppeYZVCqjP1AcShv2iggF_K83H9paHoWJ1GRFoB-q6TBB94hkQCsQ0bbZrbBgFyaxu8-KHD4utf79N8JEDVeCtDrCblL4WBJAj-_h9MwEYBsyO/s1600/dark-water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg18Q8KtZoh2dz15ES6mwXTjoBQuQPk6ppeYZVCqjP1AcShv2iggF_K83H9paHoWJ1GRFoB-q6TBB94hkQCsQ0bbZrbBgFyaxu8-KHD4utf79N8JEDVeCtDrCblL4WBJAj-_h9MwEYBsyO/s1600/dark-water.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I open the door and step into the Temple of Sorrows. I know this place and why I am here. I hear the wailing the moment I cross the
threshold. The sound is everywhere, like
a whirlwind moving across the waters, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Temple is dark and cavernous. There is no floor, only dark water rushing
continuously in a tempest of sound and yet, I stand ankle deep with nothing
solid beneath my bare feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I see her standing in the center of the cavern. Cloaked and hooded in black, bowed, still and
silent, surrounded by the keening of sorrow and grief. The bottom of my black dress sticks to my
legs as I walk through the waters to stand before her. She does not even lift her head to look at me
as I push back the hood that hides her face.
I remove the cloak from her bowed shoulders, her dress the same as the
one I wear. She bares a symbol in ashes upon her forehead. It is a symbol tattooed upon my back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Finally she looks at me and her face is familiar but
unknown to me. She must have been
beautiful once, but there are dark circles under her eyes and her pale skin is
dull and ashen and clashes with her long dry hair, a faded shade of what might have been chestnut in the sun. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her eyes are the only part of her that
looks truly alive. Her eyes are hazel, green and gold with hints of warm brown
around the edges. I look into them and I see glimpses of our lives, of hers and
of mine and of those lifetimes in between.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tears begin to flow down her ashen face. My cheeks are hot and wet and as we weep
together, the keening finally stills as does the water that surrounds us. I take her into my arms as I would my sister
and I feel her heartbreak echo in my own heart. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As I hold her, I feel a crack in the ceiling of the temple,
a rip in the fabric of the stone above our heads and she sighs soft as a whisper,
the only sound she has made. I promise her that I will return that I will be
with her through every step of this, until she is transformed and we are both
free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-59810187288702774192014-05-01T19:19:00.001-07:002014-05-01T19:19:49.302-07:00Uruz: Wild Strength<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rYo6uTYLL2pWd-hyVW92fD_JJovr7t4CsO8drpc2ED2aDyxtO-1w5L-RkqP5TSRfNV4UXoudkpUFNOnqkS4ZhakKnotlNuDLBJgyw-mvL5t44dLasH8Sc-ks6WpPgGWso8PQ4tkrH6ry/s1600/5387233-willows-in-front-of-stream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1rYo6uTYLL2pWd-hyVW92fD_JJovr7t4CsO8drpc2ED2aDyxtO-1w5L-RkqP5TSRfNV4UXoudkpUFNOnqkS4ZhakKnotlNuDLBJgyw-mvL5t44dLasH8Sc-ks6WpPgGWso8PQ4tkrH6ry/s1600/5387233-willows-in-front-of-stream.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped through the door and into the Otherworld and
looked at my feet. I was barefoot and I
wore a long linen tunic, natural in color but, embroidered with patterns of
leaves and spirals in shades of greens and browns, russets and gold. There were feathers braided in my hair and multi-colored
beads of wood, stone and bone hung about my neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I stood on a grassy hill in the warmth of an early summer
day and a path stretched out before me and disappeared over the rise of the
hill. I followed the path as it wound
its way around the hill and down to a wooded hollow. When I followed the path into the shade of the
trees, I came to a rushing stream with a large Willow on the bank trailing its
branches in the fast moving current. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Monotype Corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped into the stream and stood there with the cool
water flowing past my legs.</span><span style="font-family: 'Monotype Corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Monotype Corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">I looked
into the clear water and saw a brook trout, spotted and small, swimming but
unmoving in the deep pool behind a rock.</span><span style="font-family: 'Monotype Corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span style="font-family: 'Monotype Corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">And then suddenly, I was the Trout.</span><span style="font-family: 'Monotype Corsiva'; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I felt the water, filled with oxygen, flowing through
me. Into my open mouth and out through
my gills. I felt it moving over my
scales and, with the simple flutter of my fins, the current’s flow made it
effortless to swim in stillness behind the Rock. And then, I was the Rock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could feel the earth holding me and the sun warming me,
and the water flowing around and over me.
I could feel the delicate, supple, new branches of the Willow brushing
against me as they trailed in the current and then, I was the Willow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could feel my branches trailing on the surface of the
current and brushing against the rock. I
could feel my roots deep in the earth taking in the water and reaching out all
around me. I could feel the sun on my
leaves and the energy feeding me and the breeze playing with my upper branches.
I watched the sunlight play upon the water and, a Heron flying low along the
path of the stream and then, I was the Heron.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I flew through the air with barely a feather moving. I glided along and landed gently and stood on
thin, elegant legs in the depth of the water, seeing into the current, watching
for fish to fill my belly. And then, I
was myself again, standing in the middle of the stream, water flowing past my
legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped out of the stream and onto the bank. I said farewell to the Willow and the Rock
and the Trout and the Heron, and followed the path back to the grassy hill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I felt stronger than I have in a very long time. The wildness of the place fed me and filled
me and freed me in a way that I have been needing for so very long now. I returned with a knowing that I must renew
my connection to all that is wild, both within me and in the world around
me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">While I am working to transform the structures of myself
and my mundane life, I must never neglect to feed the wild inside me. I cannot wait until life allows it. I cannot allow the demands of my mundane life
to be stronger, to take more from me, than the work I am truly here to do. I must feed the fires of the wild heart until
they are so strong that my mundane life is a small and pale shadow in
comparison.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-20664568709234904372013-12-31T18:03:00.000-08:002013-12-31T18:03:14.517-08:00Dagaz; Dawn Comes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeqg_G4a2Myrkx3x73UbHDs1y3iqkwEPhx9rzY0je1fYb30Aw_RltraEJHC7UgQ5-9fo1VOE_yekeL7dAqwdEf67ADBQrzDqI4RD4LmU3PBciwLve72SmKU8RPvtneWUGJndEYW4H3z2H/s1600/Dagaz+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeqg_G4a2Myrkx3x73UbHDs1y3iqkwEPhx9rzY0je1fYb30Aw_RltraEJHC7UgQ5-9fo1VOE_yekeL7dAqwdEf67ADBQrzDqI4RD4LmU3PBciwLve72SmKU8RPvtneWUGJndEYW4H3z2H/s400/Dagaz+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped through the Door and into the Otherworld and looked
at my feet. I wore heavy black boots and
a thick woolen dress and cloak. It was so
dark all around that the trees surrounding me were barely visible and cast no
shadows, for no moon and no stars shone in the sky above. It was brutally cold, I shivered even beneath the
heavy woolen clothes and despite the heavy boots, my feet felt as if they were
naked to the ankle-deep snow in which I stood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There was no discernable path in the snow, and no
footprints to indicate that anyone had passed here before me. There was no sound, no wind, just the
incredible weight of loneliness and darkness and cold, deep in my bones and my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I wandered alone, stumbling over rocks and roots hidden
beneath the snow. It seemed that there would be no relief from the dark and
lonely place my heart had been living for longer than I cared to remember. I wandered for what seemed an eternity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But after a time, I noticed that I could see the Trees. I
thought perhaps my eyes had simply become accustomed to the darkness but, the
snow appeared to be paler. And then, I
noticed a sparkle on the snow that drifted up from the surface as I walked. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me
but, then I saw another sparkle. And
I looked up. </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I looked up from my feet and from the snow-covered ground
and through the trees to the sky. I saw
a single star just above the horizon, and just the hint of light beginning to
show in the East. Dawn was approaching and
as I continued to walk, Daybreak pushed at the dark sky. I stood looking at the growing light and breathed
deeply and released the darkness with a sigh. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Light returns. Dawn comes. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGfKcE0PD19BKeXWCl_vbU5cALuTqpZZhFQykRHQ9GffA0_m5RsfX0yqefPdKif6nzTIEvsxAsrC-lSmiJJoOiJLgSExZv46n_zpdpiEUICLtFPLMcv42fnQa3NmIh6dYjaJy8_lwknkJ/s1600/Dagaz.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGfKcE0PD19BKeXWCl_vbU5cALuTqpZZhFQykRHQ9GffA0_m5RsfX0yqefPdKif6nzTIEvsxAsrC-lSmiJJoOiJLgSExZv46n_zpdpiEUICLtFPLMcv42fnQa3NmIh6dYjaJy8_lwknkJ/s400/Dagaz.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-48774759467519064732013-11-22T20:11:00.000-08:002013-11-25T15:00:20.940-08:00Othala; the Heart of the Ancestors<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4fmTt-PVc6tCuBh07y2nTjqTghbGqaP53oKS-HndIA-OrIE0IvWTwdzQuxyyDpu6Z8qfcm4d4JH9iaPUJP23Cpe5o1lIzFt3MiMNKN85v2x789ATyko0s3hcAEBflJWYNXc_TcRV8JFt/s1600/roundhouse+outside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4fmTt-PVc6tCuBh07y2nTjqTghbGqaP53oKS-HndIA-OrIE0IvWTwdzQuxyyDpu6Z8qfcm4d4JH9iaPUJP23Cpe5o1lIzFt3MiMNKN85v2x789ATyko0s3hcAEBflJWYNXc_TcRV8JFt/s320/roundhouse+outside.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped through the door and into the Otherworld. I looked at my feet. I was barefoot and the grass beneath my feet
was soft and brown. I wore a simple
woolen dress of my family tartan, and a bronze amulet of a boar, my family’s
totem, hung over my heart on a ribbon of red silk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I looked around me and found myself in an autumn evening at
twilight. The woods nearby were almost
bare and the path in front of me led over a grassy hill. I followed the path over the hill and on the
other side found a low round-house with a thatched roof. The windows glowed with warm light and wood-smoke
rose from the chimney into the evening air and smelled like home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I found the doorway, the wooden beam above was carved
with a crescent and v-rod like the tattoo on my back, the side beams with a
trisckle on the left and a spiral on the right. An equal-armed cross decorated
with knotwork adorned the threshold and a red whole-cloth blanket quilted with
a dragon covered the door. I pulled the
blanket aside and entered, letting it drop back into place behind me and looked
around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The roof was supported by a network of straight beams in a concentrically
spiraling starburst pattern, the walls were stone and the floor was covered in
rugs of braided wool rags like my great-grandmother used to make when I was a
child. Glowing oil lamps and books
filled the small wooden shelves around the walls, and musical instruments hung
from the beams supporting the roof. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A fire danced brightly in the small hearth, warming the
entire house. In front of the hearth sat a small wooden table with a white
linen table-cloth, and on it, my grandmother’s teapot in robin’s egg blue and
two miss-matched cups. Beside the table I saw a basket made like the
rugs, of braided woolen rags and inside the basket, a babe wrapped in a yellow blanket
crocheted like my Nana had made it. The
infant slept peacefully, breathing easily, safe and warm and blissful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As I turned to leave, something flashed on the edge of my
sight. I turned again to see on the
mantle above the hearth, an egg of garnet.
It was deep and clear and smooth and it seemed to glow from the inside. As I continued to gaze at the stone, I heard
music and a voice speaking to me of the “heart-stone”, the heart of my
ancestors. The stone will receive the
energy I send to it and it will serve as a source of power for the ancestors to
protect the child, to heal and bless the babe in the basket. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When the music and the voice stilled, all was
quiet once more and as I pulled back the blanket covering the door, I noticed
my grandmother’s garnet ring upon my hand.
I went back out into the night and followed the path back the way I had
come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-77442969617754560942013-10-05T10:30:00.001-07:002013-10-05T10:30:18.665-07:00Perthro; The Well of Secrets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmG1MuAVXo-J-9T-kWXH0Y0q8tz8vkP2fEx7lyko1NRYggx8DXtKCCnmdVlEtQ01m8ilYBQEZPapbnMTeBswmIMQJQYmNGD-mXYtHPuMqN5QwBQZ43wIozR2SRtgk4YDcYS0_RYS5V41Q/s1600/Holy+well.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZmG1MuAVXo-J-9T-kWXH0Y0q8tz8vkP2fEx7lyko1NRYggx8DXtKCCnmdVlEtQ01m8ilYBQEZPapbnMTeBswmIMQJQYmNGD-mXYtHPuMqN5QwBQZ43wIozR2SRtgk4YDcYS0_RYS5V41Q/s320/Holy+well.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I stepped through the Door and into the Otherworld and
looked at my feet. I was barefoot and standing on flat stones, wet and smooth
and shining like polished silver. It was night, I wore
a deep purple gown and the rain fell softly on my bare arms. The tall dark trees around me sparkled with
silver lights as though an entire tribe lived among the treetops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The path led in a spiral and I followed it down to a deep
well surrounded by the same flat stones.
The water was clear but dark, like a scrying pool. A woman with dark hair and dark eyes and pale
skin, wearing a dark gown sat beside the pool.
She spoke to me with her mind and showed me all of the secrets of our
family, generations of us, our Wyrd and our fate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She said that this was the Well of Secrets, of memory and
fate and the Wyrd of us, of our family.
All was water and light among shadow and I gave a gift, a silver strand
of light from my womb. I cast it into
the well as an offering to our family fate, to the family secrets. A sacrifice to further us along, a promise to
teach my children love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I vowed that I would teach my children not to be afraid, that
with me, in my heart and in my love they are safe from abandonment, from ever
having to sacrifice themselves or their own truth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Monotype Corsiva"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I know this vow is true and right and I know that it begins
with me. I returned with a renewed sense
of peace and purpose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-33878412159826150252013-09-02T09:58:00.001-07:002013-09-02T09:58:36.452-07:00Ansuz; Learning to Listen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">I stepped through the door and into the Otherworld and looked at my feet, then at my body, then around me and waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could see nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought my eyes must be closed but, that was not the case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought something had gone wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I saw was nothing, blackness, stillness, silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not understand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I waited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I almost began to panic but I was breathing and I could hear and feel my breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could feel my heart beating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I waited. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">A voice spoke in the darkness and I listened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It spoke about hearing my inner voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It spoke about listening to my own instinct and intuition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It spoke about listening and following my own wisdom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was only a voice, only words, language, that thing I love most of all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">Months later I learned the lesson again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the mundane world of my job, I learned what it really meant to listen and follow my own truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also learned that journeying can take any form that is needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes it defies all expectations and I need to be willing to let go of the ideas I have about what will happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had begun to do just that and this journey brought the lesson home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">My Dark Moon Ritual is all about listening to the voices of Clarity, Truth, Intuition and Wisdom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is about turning inward toward the stillness, silence, darkness and listening to Spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This journey was another way to experience that listening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just so happens that it was a Dark Moon in February.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-69154653478195789602013-08-12T17:17:00.000-07:002013-10-05T10:32:48.109-07:00Naudhiz; Connection<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd13YppDsO6bm7IIpVuXedBsfE1_msLv_sPvs4WLAEM5JAgB_vlLJKfkOm-vqx4iguP9Ra-RqaKiRgNf1EW43i_2w3031H-UHyMJxAGgVcoagOY91Cli2U4WrP6mEqsWesm6E2ngceuOKS/s1600/deerLA1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd13YppDsO6bm7IIpVuXedBsfE1_msLv_sPvs4WLAEM5JAgB_vlLJKfkOm-vqx4iguP9Ra-RqaKiRgNf1EW43i_2w3031H-UHyMJxAGgVcoagOY91Cli2U4WrP6mEqsWesm6E2ngceuOKS/s320/deerLA1.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">I step through the Door and into the Otherworld.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look down at my feet, I am barefoot and the ground beneath my feet is covered in dead leaves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My legs and arms are bare and my body is covered by a rough leather hide and a knife is tied at my waist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All is quiet and as I look around me I see that I am in a wood in late autumn at dusk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In one hand I carry a wooden bow and in the other a handmade arrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">There is a broad path before me and I follow it through the wood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I walk quietly, slowly but with an easy stride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel the leaves beneath my bare feet, they are soft and I am surprised at how comfortable and at ease I am in this place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I walk, I begin to feel a strong hunger in my belly and slowly a sense of urgency creeps into my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I begin to feel a strong need to complete some crucial task and return to my home before it is too late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are those I love in need and I must provide for them or they will suffer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears that I can hear nothing else.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">The feeling of constraint, of real need, becomes so strong that it is almost overwhelming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I see her, standing in the middle of the path a dozen yards in front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stop and stare at her and she looks at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our eyes meet and I am overcome by her beauty as I raise my bow, nock my arrow upon the bowstring, pull back and aim at her heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">The moment I release my arrow, my heart almost explodes, and when it pierces her heart, I feel the sharp point penetrate my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My body convulses with the shock as I make my way to her as she falls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I reach her, I kneel at her head and with my knife I slit her throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can feel the life and spirit leave her; I can feel our blood drain into the earth as I hold her as she gives up her life to feed my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva;">My bare legs and feet are covered in her blood as I kneel beside her beautiful body and I place my hands in the blood pooled upon the earth around me and bathe my arms and face with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understand the cost, the sacrifice and the true connection between the hunter and the one who is hunted to feed the tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It should be painful to take a life; it should sacrifice a part of the hunter to fill the need.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-58103425158626183372013-07-27T09:15:00.000-07:002013-10-05T10:32:24.775-07:00Sowilo; Riding in the Sun<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnym2gn4lcqRQUk4UqoqyZUM_xluFrWZMX9_QGHAiCfyhle-GtJhBbQ1N8Bd9-uimVONKiAj-MciN1MYhsYkg0hppPgPJMS5eELCJ6HItJ0Wj7CGw0aNM75OiRV-ovIUqBIKcA9NncQs8M/s1600/mare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnym2gn4lcqRQUk4UqoqyZUM_xluFrWZMX9_QGHAiCfyhle-GtJhBbQ1N8Bd9-uimVONKiAj-MciN1MYhsYkg0hppPgPJMS5eELCJ6HItJ0Wj7CGw0aNM75OiRV-ovIUqBIKcA9NncQs8M/s320/mare.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I stepped
through the Doorway into the Otherworld and looked at my feet. I was barefoot and standing on green grass in
the sunshine and I wore a simple green dress, the color of the grass. I stood on a hill in the late spring in the
full sunshine of mid-day. The land
around me was a patchwork of meadows bordered by tall trees in full leaf and
before me there stood a beautiful chestnut mare. She walked up to me and I climbed upon her
back and she began to trot across the meadow until we came to a trail. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">She trotted
and cantered and walked and galloped and when we came upon a fence or a downed
tree she jumped it with ease. The sun
was warm, the breeze was soft, the air was sweet and her movement underneath me
felt strong and sure. I simply rode and
let her have her way. When I felt a
desire to go in a particular direction she seemed to read my thoughts and
adjusted her movement with subtle grace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">When she
returned me to the place she had found me, I slid off her back and stroked her
soft warm neck in thanks. She stood,
waiting for my gift, my offering. I
found in a pocket of my dress an apple and I offered it to her and she spoke to
me. She asked me for a vow. A vow to play in the sun, to do those things
that I found to be fun. To enjoy my life
and follow the subtle and graceful way that she had shown me. I made my vow and stood a moment longer
enjoying the sun and the breeze and as she walked away, I felt filled with
contentment and pleasure. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-6328323690684298042013-07-14T19:10:00.000-07:002014-01-11T21:37:56.436-08:00Tiwaz; Dance of the Wolf Shaman<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqCEzRoHujh4XM1-Gu5zXRDiwZ4JqzCXnpOU_SpW7AeKDhl_TSCnfrVNPaTfKxKlTtRD_-ZRKuUlbZ_79p6df90HHYh8JSLOutwPnxabqGRfM3hHqZK0zPiaeXq8fraaaRsYQrZUnc3Y1t/s1600/BOULET+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqCEzRoHujh4XM1-Gu5zXRDiwZ4JqzCXnpOU_SpW7AeKDhl_TSCnfrVNPaTfKxKlTtRD_-ZRKuUlbZ_79p6df90HHYh8JSLOutwPnxabqGRfM3hHqZK0zPiaeXq8fraaaRsYQrZUnc3Y1t/s320/BOULET+1.jpg" height="320" width="218" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Painting by Susan Seddon Boulet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I step through the Door and into the Otherworld. I look down at my feet. I am barefoot and the ground beneath my feet is covered in snow. I am wearing animal pelts, furs secured with strips of rough leather. They are soft and warm and despite the snow upon the ground, I do not feel the cold. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I look around me and discover that I am in an old-growth forest of conifers. The sky overhead is black, but filled with bright stars. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, the path before me is just visible enough to follow, the starlight reflecting off the snow that covers the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I step forward and begin to follow the path through the forest. It is dark and quiet and as I walk along I begin to feel as though I am being watched, not followed so much as accompanied by an unseen companion. It is then that I notice the light ahead. I continue on, eager to discover the source of the light.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I come to a clearing in the trees and find a large fire blazing at its center. I pause for a moment at the place where the path meets the clearing and watch. The fire is very large and burning bright and high, sparks rising from the top high into the night sky. Then from the other side of the clearing, he appears dancing around the fire. He is large and has long hair and a long beard and he is naked but for the pelt of a wolf. He is dancing ecstatically around the fire, spinning and leaping and moving more like a wolf than a man. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Then I notice the wolf pelt laid out upon a large rock next to me. Instinct tells me that I am to put it on and dance with the shaman. I do and find that my awkwardness fades and I move as if the wolf is dancing through me. As I dance, I can feel a sense of sacrifice. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I feel the sacrifice that the shaman makes, going into the dark, cold night and dancing alone. Sacrificing the comfort of community for the sake of his community. Leaving the comforts of his warm, safe home and the pleasures of his bed and his lover, the joys of tucking his children in, to dance this night with the wolf in the forest. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I leave the pelt I have been given upon the rock on which I found it and return the way I came.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #e69138;">My Pwca always lays with me when I travel and this journey was no different until just before I opened the door. He suddenly attacked my hand with teeth and claws and then removed himself to a chair instead. As soon as I returned and closed the door behind me he returned to my side, as loving as always, and purred until he fell asleep. The message I took from that is that he doesn’t like Wolves. He will travel with me but not if I am going to visit the Wolf.</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-937517064012315852013-07-14T07:38:00.001-07:002013-07-14T19:23:33.263-07:00Wunjo; the Joy of Mud<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIlrbE9HwIZAMPt6z5KZw_CTNEk0zr6aTOrbvzgwYgcwM_He4D680-xi9vQhSjJDg1_xIIsLuJFQcDI0QboSxPnD8IqgPuBH9I9cx4UIfcNf3UTgd-3Z12asAjyKoQN77dy1hlAi2mP02/s1600/mud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdIlrbE9HwIZAMPt6z5KZw_CTNEk0zr6aTOrbvzgwYgcwM_He4D680-xi9vQhSjJDg1_xIIsLuJFQcDI0QboSxPnD8IqgPuBH9I9cx4UIfcNf3UTgd-3Z12asAjyKoQN77dy1hlAi2mP02/s320/mud.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I stepped
through the door into the Otherworld and looked at my feet. I was barefoot and the ground beneath me was
mud, silky and cool. My feet and legs,
my bare arms were covered in a sheen of mud as well. I wore a dress of brown silks, many shades in
velvets, taffetas, brocades and sheers, unfinished edges and uneven but
beautiful. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I looked
around me and found that I was in a wood, wet and muddy. I walked along a path to the bank of a stream;
the water was high, flowing, opaque brown and lovely. On a clear bank I saw a short
round stump and walked towards it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">Upon the
stump I found a pile of unformed clay. I
began to play with it and to form it and found that I had created a baby-doll,
like the one I had as a child, and I became aware of a truth about myself. I have been a mother my entire life. Even when I was a toddler, the mother was a
part of my identity. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I noticed
that, while I had thought that I had used all of the clay to create my child,
there was yet more there and so, I began to play again and found myself making
a bowl. When I placed the vessel upon
the alter next to the child, there was yet more mud and so I took it up and
began to play again. I made small round coins and carved then with the runes,
and placed them in the bowl.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">When my
creations were complete I sat in the mud and I was filled with a feeling of
satisfaction, contentment and joy.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-51337072437991608322013-07-13T11:57:00.000-07:002013-07-14T19:22:45.388-07:00Isa; In the Orchard<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I step
through the Door and into the Otherworld.
I look down at my feet, I am barefoot and the green grass beneath me is covered
in frost. I examine my clothing, a
silver sparkling gown, my bare arms covered in a thin layer of ice. My every breath creating an icy fog with each
exhale, with every inhale a clear, cleansing chill permeates my chest then
spreads throughout my entire being. I
look beyond my breath and find myself in an orchard. The trees encased in ice. Each branch, each leaf, each fruit completely
coated in clear crystalline ice. The sun
is just rising before me, the new moon a sliver just above the tree tops at the
far edge of the orchard. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I step
forward and follow a path between the glorious sculptures. The sky above is clear and tinted a soft rose
and pale gold. The light of the rising sun illuminates the icy details of the
life waiting to emerge. All is quiet and
still. Alive, but waiting. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I come to a
clearing in the center of the orchard. There
is an alter of ice, a vessel, like a chalice.
It calls to me and, I approach and stand before it. I search for an offering and find I have no
tangible object. And then I feel light
from my heart emanating forward in a silver stream. The light fills the chalice and I feel full
of hope and peace. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">The sunlight
slowly melts the ice and life waits in stillness, in silence, to emerge.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4323966066405613641.post-71693732831600326462013-07-13T09:37:00.002-07:002013-10-05T10:31:27.854-07:00Raidho; Welcome to the Journeys of the Runes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4fCC6J6kV82PmB1te1raNK8tRrgP1RrNWPhOeA4vnyvxUTa-cM3SRQgeixdbBUosVEIPLWdt37qa81M2-Ylzgb7ly1BmFD0-SRsUJ_sTqHNpgYU4enKcsBy4jVfG8Sq4xs75ZQGcOLsk/s1600/17526_678932552121966_1635985015_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4fCC6J6kV82PmB1te1raNK8tRrgP1RrNWPhOeA4vnyvxUTa-cM3SRQgeixdbBUosVEIPLWdt37qa81M2-Ylzgb7ly1BmFD0-SRsUJ_sTqHNpgYU4enKcsBy4jVfG8Sq4xs75ZQGcOLsk/s320/17526_678932552121966_1635985015_n.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;">Raidho is the rune for travel, the vehicle that facilitates the journey. The Runes, the Elder Futhark, can act as the keys to lessons that can be found in the Otherworlds. They can unlock the door and carry us to places that we will discover truth, guidance, wisdom and council. They are gifts, earned by sacrifice. The All-Father hung upon the World Tree for nine days and nine nights and returned to the world with these magickal symbols. I honor his sacrifice and his gift when I draw the runes. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"All-Father grant to me, Runes of sight that I may see. Grandmothers sing, and spirits speak, wisdom from the well."</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;">This is a place where I will share the journeys that I have taken using the Runes as keys and guides. I am not an expert on the Elder Futhark and this is not an academic commentary on their history or on the many ways they can be used, in magick, in healing and in divination. This is one witch's experience of the Runes in one area of practice. I access the Runes in each of those ways. I draw the Runes everyday. They are a part of my daily life and practice. They are one of the ways that I receive guidance from the Gods and from the Ancestors and some of the most powerfully magickal and healing symbols I know. Treat them with respect, use them with care. Study them and honor them and they will improve your life and your magick.</span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;">If you are seeking a reliable, academically sound resource, I strongly recommend Diana L Paxon's "Taking up the Runes". I have read every book on the Runes that I could get my hands on in the past few years, academic and metaphysic, and hers is the most comprehensive resource that I have found.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;">Welcome to the Journeys of the Runes. </span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;">Blessed Be and Good Journeys.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Awenyddhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08981951703672449806noreply@blogger.com0