Mannaz; Relationship

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.

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. 

I left his room and when I closed the door, and was again my current age and wearing my funeral dress.

When I returned to the Threshold and closed the Door behind me, the Mannaz Rune had faded.

Laguz; the Temple of Sorrows and the Queen of the Abyss

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, 

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.

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. 

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.   

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. 

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. 

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.

Dagaz; Dawn Comes

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.  

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.

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.

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. 

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. 

 Light returns.  Dawn comes. 

Ansuz; Learning to Listen

I stepped through the door and into the Otherworld and looked at my feet, then at my body, then around me and waited.  I could see nothing.  I thought my eyes must be closed but, that was not the case.  I thought something had gone wrong.  All I saw was nothing, blackness, stillness, silence.  I did not understand.  I waited.  I almost began to panic but I was breathing and I could hear and feel my breath.  I could feel my heart beating.  I waited.

A voice spoke in the darkness and I listened.  It spoke about hearing my inner voice.  It spoke about listening to my own instinct and intuition.  It spoke about listening and following my own wisdom.  It was only a voice, only words, language, that thing I love most of all.

Months later I learned the lesson again.  In the mundane world of my job, I learned what it really meant to listen and follow my own truth.  I also learned that journeying can take any form that is needed.  Sometimes it defies all expectations and I need to be willing to let go of the ideas I have about what will happen.  I had begun to do just that and this journey brought the lesson home.

My Dark Moon Ritual is all about listening to the voices of Clarity, Truth, Intuition and Wisdom.  It is about turning inward toward the stillness, silence, darkness and listening to Spirit.  This journey was another way to experience that listening.  It just so happens that it was a Dark Moon in February.

Isa; In the Orchard

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. 

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. 

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. 

The sunlight slowly melts the ice and life waits in stillness, in silence, to emerge.