A life in threes

Month: July, 2013

Month for Loki Day 28: Odin’s Raven Rune Charm

I wanted to highlight the existence of this because I’m fascinated with it.
The Youtube video (as referenced at Freya’s Labyrinth) does have a particularly unusual line, referring to ‘the wolf of friendliness’ — and I especially love that metaphor.
Hel, I love the concept of this being a sort of mysterious fragment of poetry whose existence doesn’t seem to fit into any other portion of the lore.
As well, I am intrigued with the possibility (posited in the referenced introductory commentary from Sophus Bugge) that to be able to comprehend the meaning of this poem might be an initiation into the some sort of Mystery itself.
There are other translations, as seen here
But the best way that I have found to examine it, is to listen to it yourself

Month for Loki Day 27: Wolf Ankle Bracelet

About two weeks ago, my ankle bracelet broke.

It was sterling silver ankle bracelet that I wore on my left ankle.  It had a sterling silver wolf charm, and three amber beads on it.

This is the second time that it has broken since V bought it for me. 

As well, I’ve had to replace the wolf charm twice. 

Back in February, the bail (that was soldered onto the back of the wolf) broke off while V and I were at an event.  I found the wolf piece again, but it couldn’t be rejoined to the bail, so I ordered another wolf charm as a replacement sometime in March.

And all was well with it until July 11th. 

Sometime on that day, the wolf charm must’ve fallen off, but unlike last time, I’ve not been able to find it.

Honestly, I don’t think that I’m ever going to.

So now I’ve placed the rest of the bracelet  on Loki’s altar.

I’ve gotten the impression that might be the thing to do, and not because He is the finder of lost things.


As I said, I get the feeling that I’m not going to find that charm, and at this point, I don’t think that I’m going to try to replace it either, so I left it on His altar as an offering, if not, as a sort of commentary on the issue.


A little less than a year ago – possibly this past September — I had two dreams in rapid succession, that definitely seemed to relate to the BDSM dynamic that I was living in and my spirituality.

In the first dream, Loki and I were having a conversation.  I don’t even remember what we had been talking about; all I recall is that, at one point in the conversation, my ankle bracelet caught His eye.  I remember that I was in mid-sentence when He interrupted me to ask, “What’s this?” and He was referring to the ankle bracelet. 

He leaned down to examine it on my ankle more closely.  He flicked the wolf charm between His thumb and forefinger, looking at it curiously, as  I explained to Him the reason why I wore the ankle bracelet, and why V had given it to me.   V had meant it as a discreet way to signify another particular aspect of our relationship, I explained.

I remember the way that Loki tilted His head and smirked, as if He was skeptical of my bracelet and its meaning.  While He may have been somewhat skeptical of the whole ‘meaning’ of my having such relationships in general, He also seemed intrigued.  

I do recall that He asked me a few more questions about what that sort of commitment was supposed to mean, with the focus being specifically on what it meant to me.
I especially recall those light steely eyes of His flitting between being playful and intensely serious, talking about commitments, especially:

You have a wedding ring, He murmured, Is that not enough for (your husband)?

With that, He began to pull on my ankle bracelet, as if testing its strength, and I thought that He’d pull the wolf charm off of it at any moment, as I stuttered my reply.

When I’d finished speaking, He looked at me a long moment, and simply raised an eyebrow.

His silence made me feel awkward, almost chastised.

Then He let go of my ankle bracelet, and nodded at me, almost dismissively.

And He left the room.

And I woke up.

Several major changes have occurred since I had that dream, both in my life and in my relationships with V and with others who where in my life at the time.

And yet, until July 11th, I still wore that ankle bracelet.

Sometimes I get so used to things that, in their every day existence, they almost become an afterthought.

Sometimes objects take on meanings that stray far from original meanings and intent.

And sometimes, things just fall away, and I don’t realize that there’s been a change until something tangible is lost.

And when I think about what has happened between July 11th and today, it seems fitting to offer the rest of the ankle bracelet to Loki

… since what doesn’t serve does seem to fall away.






Month for Loki Day 26: Return

As I am updating this on my phone, please forgive me any typos and formatting errors.

After 17 hours on the road, I am finally home.

Looking over my mail, I see a thin envelope from my employer.

It was a letter of separation.

For several months now, I’ve been half-expecting this. You see, I was cut from their rolls for not making my hours this quarter.

I shouldn’t be surprised. My employer had been trying to phase out their seasonal positions in favor of setting standards for part-time and full-time employees.

In a way, this situation was a long time in coming.

But that’s over now, and looking on the upside, this leaves room for other work that I could be doing.

So it’s not all bad.

Month for Loki Day 13: Seeing, and Being Seen.

When I first decided to attend a Loki ritual for April Fool’s Day 2012, I was scared shitless.


Partly because of my social anxiety, and partly because I’d heard that – sometimes – these rituals could bring Him to you…

… And I’ll be honest:

I had a few nightmares that He’d reject me in some incredibly publicly humiliating way.


If not that, then I feared that everyone there would suddenly know that I didn’t belong, or something.

I felt sick to my stomach with worry and panic.

I am ashamed to admit to what I thought would happen, even now.  My stomach knots up just thinking about it.

So there was the infinite battle between my self-doubt and fear, versus my desire to know, to experience the Divine.

You see, for the first year after I decided to embrace the situation I was in, I both hungered for and feared interaction with other Lokeans, as well as interaction with Loki himself.

Going to that ritual was an act of pushing myself out of a comfort zone on so many levels.

But I really felt that I had to go.  I felt that I owed it to Him that I should go.  It seemed to me to be exactly the sort of thing that He would want.

Well, Loki…and of course, Eleanor Roosevelt:

“We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face… we must do that which we think we cannot do.”

And when I got there, I was a wreck.

I was feeling such a bizarre mix of emotions.

To this day, I don’t know how much of it was me, how much it was possible empathic overload from those present, and how much of it was the Divine.

I felt itchy and irritable and grateful and terrified.

Everyone was so welcoming, and friendly.

But I was trying to hold myself in reserve.  I felt like I was leaking my emotions all over the place.

It was as it was in my social anxiety nightmares — I felt as if everyone could sense what best could be described as my wild energy leakage (!) and that they were uncomfortable with me.

I kept checking myself:

Am I talking too much?  

Am I enjoying myself?

 How do I feel?

Am I acting weird? (Hell, I ‘m *feeling* weird.   I am terrified.  I am happy.  I am confused.  I feel a bit dizzy.  I am uncomfortable.  I am hungry.  Something is poking me.**  I’m having trouble focusing/listening/sitting still.  OK, that *is* weird)

And so, all the while I was analyzing this incredible tangle of thoughts I was having, as I went and introduced myself.

It was exhausting and exhilarating and so very strange for me.

And I was OK.

But most importantly, I stayed and I didn’t cry or throw up or say anything too inappropriate, and I think that I came across as normal.  (Well, mostly.)

I remember being nervous and uncoordinated about what to do with my hands during the invocation and hailing as we stood in the circle, but thankfully no one noticed or cared about my lack of ritual form.

I was really moved by the mask creation portion.

I still remember most of what I scribbled in my tiniest block handwriting all down each side of that face that I made for myself.  I wrote:

I cannot see under the right eye of the mask. (That is my lazy eye, which really doesn’t physically see very well)

I want to see.
I am frightened.
I am nervous.
I feel unworthy
(And several other negative aspects/attributes written)

I want to move beyond this.  I am blinded by these (obstacles written)

Under my left eye (my seeing eye), I wrote:

I can see.
I want to be seen.
I am grateful.
I am thankful.
(Other positive attributes written)

I want to continue to see.  I want to remember/recognize these (positive aspects/attributes written) in myself and others.

In the middle of the mask, I wrote a few phrases that drew upon both left and right.

On the side of the mask that faces out, I wrote some things about myself that I allow others to see and know about me.

On the side of the mask facing in, I wrote some things that I see and know about myself that I choose to hide.

Initially I’d made the eye opening very small on the right side to represent all that I couldn’t see.   After I’d finished writing, however, I cut out the edges of the right eye so that the two openings were even.

I realize now that it was sort of a wish, or a prayer for more balance between the left and the right.


The other lovely thing about the ritual was that one could choose to hold onto their mask and make an offering of it on one’s own altar at home, or the mask itself could be burned as an offering.

I liked the concept of the burning the mask as a recognition and a release –  more than to hold onto it as a recognition and a reminder -of the masks that one wears.

When I burned the mask, I had trouble getting the paper to burn.

I remember that I had to push the paper quite far into the flames before it caught.

I recall looking down and wondering idly if I would have to reach so far in that my sleeve would catch fire in the process.

And, you know what happened next?

As I was pushing the paper forward, my thumb brushed – and briefly stuck to a bright orange ember, which, not surprisingly, caused me just enough pain to get me to finally let go of the paper.

I’ve got this.

As I watched the mask being consumed by the flames, I  rubbed my thumb, wondering if it would blister.

But thankfully, it never did.

But if it had, I would’ve seen it as my first object lesson…of which He might have quipped:

Ah, I see that you have an inability to let go.


When I was a little girl, my Nana (a devout Irish Catholic) would try to ensure my good behavior by reminding me that God could see me always, but as you may have guessed, I wanted so desperately *not* to be seen.

Oh, if only I could run.  If only I could hide …


In June 2011, I decided to stop running.

And in April 2012, I decided that I would make an effort to stop hiding.

I will admit that I still have my moments, but despite them, He is relentless.

And I am thankful for that.

I see you.

And in that, I make this grateful prayer:

Hail Loki!

Thank You for Your patience with me, Oh Relentless One.

Thank You for seeing me.




** I swear, I felt like something was poking me. THAT WAS WEIRD.

Month for Loki #7: Sociable.

So I was laying on the bed last night, full of Fireball whiskey, and watching a spider make its way deftly across the ceiling.

I had just returned from a party, a Saturday barbecue, and as I lay there, I was thinking about Loki.

I was also thinking about how the party and all of the aspects of the party that had a Lokean stamp to them:

There was a prodigious variety of alcoholic beverages, much barbecuing of meat (seafood being the only meat that, surprisingly, wasn’t being grilled), multiple side vegetable and pasta dishes that, strangely enough, prominently featured bacon as a garnish, and of course, the dessert table was full of cake, chocolate, and various incarnations of alcohol infused cake and chocolate…and perhaps, even bacon, too.

I also noticed much revelry around me that Loki would have likely much appreciated: there was much dancing, singing, laughter, and argument that was rife with flirtatious wit and sexual innuendo between damned near everyone there.

(I was told these gatherings often ended with skinny-dipping and various poly folks sometimes coupling up into an inevitable sleepover until the next morning… though I left shortly after midnight, so I didn’t participate in that aspect of the festivities, actually.)

Nonetheless, I drifted off to sleep in my bed, with a drunken singalong rendition of “Shake Your Ass For Me” looping endlessly in my brain.

I was exhausted.


So what is my offering for Loki here?

I can be a socially anxious misanthrope.

Going to such a party as I’d attended last night often makes an exhausted wreck of me.  One would not probably notice, but even if it is a party attended by people that I know and want to see/hang with, I still find myself making last-minute excuses not to attend such gatherings…or attending, and being a quiet, unassuming wallflower, nursing a tepid, weakly alcoholic beverage, and pushing down all the little anxieties that endless crop up in my brain, as people approach me.  I nod and smile, and feeling like an anxious fraud  — inwardly wondering, am I doing this right? Am I being sociable enough? Am I talking too much/enough?

Even though these are dear, beloved friends of mine greeting and embracing me at the door; these are folks that I’ve known for years talking to me.  We are catching up on what has happened since we’ve seen each other last week, last month, last year.   Sometimes, I find myself introducing myself to their partners, their friends, their acquaintances:  “Do you know?…Oh, so nice to meet you!..I am….”

But there is inward self-talk going on, a pep talk if you will, as I reach out to each person, and it occurs often enough to run in the background of most of my social interactions with others at a crowded gathering of people.

I will be in the presence of friends. I am in the presence of friends….That is what I say to myself as I am preparing to go to such a gathering.  Sometimes, I even find myself inwardly chanting this as I stand on the front step, just moments before I enter a friends’ home.

And, of course, that chant is after I’ve confronted the concept, at least once, of Not Going.  It’s guaranteed that I’ve previously run through that script (the litany of Reasons Not to Go) at least once before any social interaction, no matter how small, or how much I’ve planned, or even looked forward to the interaction.

Allie Brosh might know what I mean.

And so, I attended this gathering, as I do all large gatherings featuring people and food and music, and I pushed myself out of my comfort zone.  To interact, to laugh, to allow myself to enjoy myself.

I deny myself this way.  This is one of the ways that I’ve told myself that I don’t need.   I don’t Need to Go.  Do I?  I convince myself that I have reasons not to.  So much easier not to engage.   It might be emotionally easier to do this some other time.  I make myself uncomfortable, I convince myself that Socializing Today is Something that I Cannot Do Today.  I will see my friends some other day.   I don’t need to see (insert name of friend) today.

But, then inevitably, I have always felt that nudge:  Oh yes.  Yes you do.  Go.

If I have gotten far enough in my head to get there, then I might be telling myself, I don’t need again.

I don’t need to talk.

I don’t need to dance.

I don’t need to have a piece of cake.

I don’t need to participate.  To talk, to dance, to eat a piece of cake requires opening up to participating in a party; it is the essence of a social experience, is it not?  It is social interaction like talking, eating, dancing that makes a party.

So, there I am, at the party.  I might have been talking.  I might even be holding a plate of food.  And if I have gotten that far, I might even be wondering  as to whether or not I am enjoying myself.  I try not to think about it.

I don’t need to enjoy.

And the nudging again, last night, always, to stop checking myself, to stop telling myself of what I need or do not need…

It’s OK to enjoy.  Just relax.

Thankfully, last night, I got far enough out of my own head enough to socialize with some dear friends.  I even introduced myself to a few new people.  I ate some delicious barbecue, and drank some whiskey.  I watched as some other acquaintances danced and flirted.  I laughed and I shared a few stories. I might have even flirted a little.  I sang along to the songs I knew.

All good, enjoyable interactions.

But…No, I did not dance.  Perhaps some other time.

I laughed.  I ate and drank and sang.

I interacted.  I enjoyed.

That was enough for me.  That was enough for last night, anyway.

Perhaps I will dance with my friends another time.  Dancing at a party is a little bit beyond my comfort level, I think to myself.

But maybe it will not seem as far next time, I wonder.

There’s comfort in next time.


Hail Loki, pusher of boundaries. I will dance, next time. Next time.