Berkano; Birch and Beginnings

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. 

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.

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! 

Kenaz; the Light of Knowledge and Truth

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. 

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. 

Lamps and lanterns glowed everywhere illuminating the space with warm golden light.

It was beautiful and I was filled with joy and pleasure at the sight and the warm power of the place.  

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.  

Each was a treasure of great worth to me. 

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. 

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.  

Wunjo; the Joy of Mud

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. 

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.

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. 

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.

When my creations were complete I sat in the mud and I was filled with a feeling of satisfaction, contentment and joy.