Gebo; the Gift of Joining

I stepped over the threshold into the Otherworld and looked at my feet.  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.  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.

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.

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.

Eihwaz; Trees of Life

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.

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.

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.

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. 

I gave thanks to the Tree and returned the way I had come.

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.

Uruz: Wild Strength

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.

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. 

I stepped into the stream and stood there with the cool water flowing past my legs.  I looked into the clear water and saw a brook trout, spotted and small, swimming but unmoving in the deep pool behind a rock.  And then suddenly, I was the Trout. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

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. 

Othala; the Heart of the Ancestors

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. 

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.

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.

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.   

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. 

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.  

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.

Perthro; The Well of Secrets

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.

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. 

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.

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. 

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.