bloodteethandflame

A life in threes

Category: experiences

Month for Loki: Nine

Several months ago, I went to a pagan event to vend for my Etsy shop.

And though I hadn’t originally planned to participate in a guided meditation that day, one of my vendor ‘neighbors’ who had their store-front (in a large tent) beside mine, had just popped over to let my vending partner and I know that they were  offering to host an hour long guided meditation for anyone interested…in about 10 minutes.

It seemed a rather impromptu/spur of the moment situation, and likewise, my decision to participate was definitely rather spur of the moment as well. So I left my partner to watch over my shop, and I went ‘next door’ to see how it would go.

I didn’t have a lot of expectations for it for several reasons that I will explain below.

____

First of all, to any of my newer readers out there, I may need to give y’all a few points of background, so you might understand the significance of certain aspects of my devotional practice in the last few years:

  • As I may have pointed out in a previous post, I do not have daily interactions with my deities anymore. One could say that I haven’t been experiencing Them as readily or as easily in many of the ways that I’d experienced Them before, and definitely not as nearly as often as I’d had during the earlier years of my practice.
  • Though I’ve never had difficulty in visualizing things (and I’ve always been a rather vivid/lucid dreamer), it may surprise you to know that I’ve always had a lot of difficulty with guided meditations. In short, while my own brain can easily come up with visuals whilst daydreaming or sleeping, I’ve always had difficulty in visualizing anything on cue from outside sources. It’s like my brain immediately refuses to comply with whatever visuals that the person guiding the meditation is setting up as scene for the participants (i.e ‘Please don’t tell me what I should be seeing in front of me! I don’t even see the path ahead that leads into the forest that you’re talking about…’)
  • I’ve also realized that the older I get, the more easily distracted I can become by ambient noise, random sensation, or movement out of the corner of the eye, etc. Though I’ve never been diagnosed as having ADHD, suffice it to say, I meet a lot more of the supposed ADHD diagnostic criteria these days, in that regard.

So, I’d like to make it clear that what follows here was an unexpected result/instance of guided meditation from someone who has never been good at guided meditations.

~~~

The meditation, as it appears written in my notes:

Now, the person leading the meditation seemed really aware of the difficulty that some folks (like me!) may have with visualization on cue, so their descriptions of the scenes were not visually leading in any way.

(Rather than begin with the typical descriptions full of visual details like “You see a winding path of soft dirt before you that leads into a grove of lush, green trees in summer…” — the guide basically guided the participants to mentally fill in the details with some sensation concept language, such as “You’re outdoors. You feel safe and you feel calm. *pause* It is perfect weather, a perfect day for you to be outdoors. Maybe you feel the heat of the sun on your face, or maybe you notice a cool breeze in your hair. *pause* You see a shape up ahead of you, so you walk toward it. As you walk toward it, you are curious to see what it is…” )

As is usual, the only thing I saw at first was the darkness behind my eyelids. Then, as the guide led us to move forward toward whatever was up ahead, I heard the sound of water and the sound of the wind.

Then the guide continued, asking if it was a tree up ahead, and asked us to think about what that tree might look like, and if it was perhaps a tree we had seen before. I saw a tree in the distance for the briefest moment. It was a sizeable oak tree, with grey striated bark, like the trees that lined the borders of the woods outside the house where I grew up in New England. As soon as I saw the tree, I could almost feel how the bark would feel under my fingers, and I could smell the sun on it.

Then, as the guide went on, and mentioned that we might see a person. Did we know them?

And then I saw a man – slender, pale, wiry man. I could hear the sound of water splashing slightly, and I realized, as I got closer to him, that he appeared to be standing in this pool of water. (My brain immediately filled in with a vivid visual of a long-ago dream vision I’d had of Loki bathing in a pond.)

Now, while I swear that I’m not sure if the guide had even mentioned Loki, there He was, and He was washing His hair.

And, as I watched Him wring the water out of His hair, I could sense the water – heard the dripping/splashing, while also sensing the coolness/wetness of the water – and I could immediately smell His scent – that light, spicy almost floral scent that I’ve come to associate with Him.

Though He was not facing me, eventually, He did turn towards me, and I did see His face.

Eyes so green, impossibly bright auburn hair, the goatee, that aquiline nose, those freckles…

     …and then, the voice of the guide broke through, talking about seeing, saying, you may see more trees, feel the sun, see animals

and I immediately looked down and smelled the musty scent of a fox, before I realized its eyes (briefly) appeared to be that same vivid green.

Then Loki picked up the fox – I heard the little grunt of its surprise at being picked up – and my vision of Loki shimmered like a hologram, and the edges of Him became clearer.

Then, I don’t know why — the fox FELL out of His hands and became bones (I could smell the scent of decay before I heard a sharp *clunk* followed by the clatter of bones clacking together as if they had fallen into a heap somewhere on the ground nearby, but not into the water).

Now, I don’t know what the guide had been saying to initiate the following, but I immediately sensed that the visual of the fox had somehow been *BOTH* of Them (Loki and…Odin?) at once, because the first thing to disappear was the green eyes of the fox, and I could see the hollows of its skull (briefly) and when I focused on the skull, I could see that only one eye was visible in one of the two eye sockets, and it gleamed with a strange whitish-blue light before it clattered to the ground elsewhere.

Then, I heard the rustling of the leaves of the tree in the wind, and the Loki/Odin Being encouraged me to look at the water — which had somehow suddenly become the Well of Wyrd.

And I could see the water glistening in His hands as He put His hands into it, scooping up some of it as if to show me – but as I was looking at the water cupped between His palms — crystal clear and icy cold – I nervously noticed that the depth of the Well appeared terrifyingly bottomless, spiraling into darkness several feet below/beyond my view of His hands.

But, then oddly, I wanted to put my hands into it too, simply because I sensed that it would be cold and refreshing. I don’t know how, but I could sense its temperature because it ‘smelled’ cold to me. I felt refreshed to even be near it (and well, it was a humid 3 o’clock in the afternoon in Florida at the time of this meditation) but no sooner was I entertaining the thought of how cool the water might actually feel…

… I felt the sensations of wetness/icy coldness from the bottom of my feet up to my knees as if I had been standing in the water myself — but I didn’t actually touch it. It was definitely strange to be feeling the brief, intense sensations of standing in this incredibly cold water, but to look down and see the visual of my feet – in sneakers! – still standing in the grass several feet from the edge of the Well .

Hmm.

But I didn’t spend long puzzling over the impossibility of those sensations before I was immediately distracted by another entirely different sensation

    and it felt like the Loki/Odin Being was touching my face.

I could feel the light sensation of what felt like a hand or fingertips (though it was probably one of the guide’s tapestries that had been hung around the outdoor meditation space, fluttering ever so gently against my face as it blew in the wind).

But nonetheless, I focused on the Loki/Odin Being as He stood in front of me.

I sensed that He was smiling, because He knew (because whenever I meditate, I will always ask Loki if I could be allowed to sense Him by touch). I saw the colors blooming behind my eyes which matches the color of the sound of His voice (this part is difficult to explain!) – and then, I received the download of what He was/They were saying/feeling:

Here you are (You are here.)

I am with you.

I see you.

Hello!

immediately coupled with this immense rush of tingling sensations and warm feeling of Presence – along with this burst of happiness, joy, and welcome, so much like the mutual joy that you feel when you and an old friend/loved one finally see each other after a long absence.

And then, I heard the guide say something along the lines of It’s time to go back now. Make an offering.

So I checked myself – nervously patting down my pockets – and realized suddenly that I had nothing to give!

(I guess, I’d even blurted aloud – I brought nothing but myself! for everyone in the meditation circle to hear…)

But when I looked back at Him/Them, They simply leaned forward, smiling gently, and said:

Give Me your mouth.

So when I did

(and perhaps, again, I’d felt those hung tapestries fluttering against my face and head, but, it is no matter…)

I felt the energy of Them, close and warm and bright and mixed

And it was wonderful.

And when the guide repeated the request of giving an offering before leaving…

I saw the flash-vision of a chocolate chip cookie on a wooden plate…

followed by another brief visual of Loki – squatting on the ground, casually eating a powdered doughnut – with the powdered sugar dusted around His mouth and in His goatee, and He was grinning, satisfied 🙂

And then, upon leaving, I saw the shape of a massive black bird – a vulture? a raven? – against a maroon, sunset sky –

    and They encouraged me to follow it out until the maroon sky became increasingly lighter and brighter until I realized I was back in the tent.

~~~

I love that They worked with the distracting elements of the situation to keep me there, since, as I said, I can’t always completely sink into the meditation experience as much as I would like. (Case in point, I could – at one point — hear the faraway drums of a practicing drum circle outside the meditation, the scattered conversation of folks outside the tent, and once, a little girl’s voice, suddenly exclaim, giggling, Oh, what happened?!)

But, thankfully, I did not let these distractions take me out of the experience this time.

And best of all —  though I didn’t know it – this impromptu guided meditation turned out to be an intensely uplifting experience that I didn’t know that I could have, let alone, the kind of meaningful experience that I needed.

Continually brave in weakness.

This meme tile just came across my social media feed:

Usually this would not mean much because I will admit that I’ve been scrolling through social media much more often than is usual for me lately…

But what really made me sit up and take notice was that

upon reading its message

I immediately and distinctly felt

You

As a sensation of nearly imperceptible fingers

brushing across the nape of my neck

a singular awareness of You, whispering

Look!

Look.

Hail Loki ❤️

Month for Loki: Seventh.

A repeated meditation experience and some UPG about the rune Isa:

I’ve added the Elder Futhark rune Isa to my list of runes for trancework — with Isa as the grounding/anchoring rune.

During several meditation sessions, L suggested that I trace the rune Isa onto my hands (and sometimes, onto the top of each foot).  At first, I thought the reason for it had something to do with slowing down or halting the wave of anxiety that I felt during trancework, as I often felt anxious over feeling too ‘light’ (weightless) or disconnected from my body (or from the Earth itself) during meditation.

Tracing Isa on the backs of both hands or on the top of each foot served to lessen those sensations, and helped me to anchor myself. (Meanwhile, marking a single hand or foot gave me the sensation of being similar to a balloon tethered by a string, i.e the singularly marked hand or foot felt as if it was the only means that rooted me to the ground – which in my experience was yet another [albeit slighter] anxiety-inducing sensation indeed!)

Nonetheless, I can see how others may prefer marking a single hand or foot, as it may better suit their needs.

In short, your mileage may vary.

~~~

As well, I learned that magically, Isa can be invoked as a powerful rune for shielding and protection, as Isa can be called upon to take the heat out of a confrontation, as well as to shield oneself/as protection from magical attack.

A strange thing that leaves me speechless.

I keep having this … recurring thing.

I do not know how to describe it.

It’s a visual thing.

A repetitive vision?

A visual thought?

~~~

All I can say is that it began as a dream I had a little over a week ago.

I woke up last Sunday (the Sunday that came before the day before yesterday, mind you) from what seemed like an extremely vivid portion of a dream….but I wasn’t quite awake and I wasn’t all the way asleep.

I know this because the volume of a program on the television in my bedroom had gotten really loud – loud enough to awaken me enough to wonder in a split moment or two if the sound was loud in my dream or if it was reality – but I had not opened my eyes yet.

But then the sound went entirely away and I heard a loud ‘click’ – and I assumed that the sleep timer on the television had just gone off.

So I rolled over and started to fall back asleep, feeling thankful that my husband had thought to set the sleep timer (rather than letting the television blare all night as he sometimes does, unfortunately.)

I was aware of the possibility that it might have been early in the morning because I recall laying there in bed, with eyes shut, but sensing the light in the room.

And that’s when it happened.

Though I had lain there in silence – newly aware that the silence existed because the tv had shut off and feeling tired on the edge of returning to sleep again – I was acutely aware of the fact I was dozing off, and I felt pleased about it.

And the visuals that bloomed before my eyelids were the typical blobs of color that I’ll usually see as I am dozing off and I watched as they slowly formed into different abstract shapes, as that slow process is how eventually, I allow myself to fall asleep.

But then as clear as day – suddenly I saw a sharply defined image of an older woman – as clear as a photograph – in my mind’s eye. I could not place her – she did not look like anyone I knew. And I was a little shocked – because if it was the beginning of a dream, it came on pretty quickly and I felt a little concerned.

You see, the woman was crying loudly.

She wanted some soup. She was asking me for soup.

Please make me some soup, she wailed, please give me some soup! Please Pleeeeeeaaaasssseee….Why won’t you? Why won’t you?

And it was very strange! I was awake and aware enough to have a rapid string of thoughts, such as that I was in bed, and I would have to get up and most importantly, did I have any soup to give her?

I didn’t think so.

I recall actually rolling over and saying aloud, I’m sorry! I don’t think I have any soup and I recall that my mouth worked fine, my voice was clear and I was fully awake then…so much so that I opened my eyes and looked around the room.

You see, the sound of my own voice answering this dream-visual woman had woken me up.

And on that Sunday, I was certain that I had just had a rather vivid dream.

And so, I forgot about it.

~~~

And then this past Tuesday, I was sitting in front of my altar just as I was beginning to meditate, and I saw the same visual…of that same older woman again.

And the memory of that vivid vision of her and her wailing request for soup came rushing back.

To my surprise, I even felt a wave of nausea and guilt, as if I had broken a promise.

(But at the same time I also felt a bit foolish for feeling guilty. I mean, that whole thing had just been a dream, right?)

But as much as I tried to meditate, I couldn’t focus.

~~~

Wednesday into Thursday, another short interlude of that woman interrupted another dream I was having.

In the dream, I was walking down the street, in the midst of a conversation with someone else. I don’t even recall what that person and I were talking about, I just know that suddenly I felt a hand pulling on my clothes, and I looked behind me and there she was.

That same old woman standing in the middle of the sidewalk, trying to get my attention

And she was still crying, wailing those same words, that same request

Please make me some soup.

Please give me some soup!

I didn’t know what to say to her, but her sudden appearance in my dream was enough to shake me awake.

On Thursday afternoon, lunch-time, I found myself looking in my pantry-closet.

And though I was there to look for something else, it occurred to me that I should see if I had any soup.

Turns out I have a two cans of chicken noodle, and one can of beef stew.

I wonder what kind she wanted – broth or stew?

Who knows?

~~~

I was watching T.V. on Saturday, involved in watching a film I’d seen before, a comedy I enjoyed. I was laughing, focused on the dialogue.

And then, I was suddenly overcome with a thought of the old woman!

The vision of her just floated through my mind.

I can guarantee you that I wasn’t thinking of her even a moment before, but then I was.

I don’t know why the thought of her – complete with that same vivid image in my mind’s eye of her tear-stained face, and me watching helplessly as her wrinkled mouth opened and closed, as she choked over each word, her voice clogged by emotion that dragged over the long insistent vowels of please and why.

It occurred to me that when the vision of her comes, I cannot seem to shake it away.

And though her tears, her insistence affect me deeply, I feel helpless to speak to her.

I feel this wave of guilt and nausea when I see her, and though I feel those feelings, I don’t know where they come from when they come.

That probably doesn’t make much sense.

I feel a bit haunted, to be honest.

I don’t know what it means or who to ask about this strangely repetitive thing.

Month for Loki, Day 27: Cartography

We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves.

I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead. I believe in such cartography–to be marked by nature, not just to label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. We are not owned or monogamous in our taste or experience. All I desired was to walk upon such an earth that had no maps.
~ Michael Ondaatje  (The English Patient)

~~~

I stumbled upon this lovely quote on a friend’s blog today, and he spoke of being inspired by its metaphors.

I was so moved by it as well that I felt the need to share it.

Month for Loki, Day 10: Fools Gold

Inspired by a detail in Northern Tamarisk’s blog associating fool’s gold and Loki the other day, my brain went off on a tangent, thinking about items that some folks associated with Loki.

I was intrigued by the casual reference to her association of Loki with fool’s gold.

As you may have read my experience of that first Dragons Treasure meditation in 1997, I was reminded of how I had participated in another guided group meditation ritual several months later that same year

Except instead of a vision of Hostess Donettes, I received the ‘gift’ of a piece of fools gold.

It strikes me as strange to think now about how that was twice in as many months that I had sought out answers in guided meditations during a public ritual that initially appeared  – on the surface – to be in the form of some sort of joke or trick.

And trust me, no one likes to be made fun of or to be the butt of a joke…least of all, me.

Nonetheless, after that first guided meditation, it became a goodnatured joke in the community I was trying to join: If they couldn’t remember my name, I was that ‘newbie’ that received the doughnut.

And a few months later, I became known as that woman that got the fool’s gold.

And yet, I am amazed to realize how both times these odd ‘journey-gifts’ were read by others – the Pagan elders and the other assembled group members – as a sign that I must be pulling their leg or proof that I wasn’t taking whatever spiritual exercise I was attempting to engage in seriously enough.

The gifts don’t lie, they’d said.

So as we sat in the circle and shared our experiences:

What is that again? some folks snickered in response to my share, that makes no sense.

While others muttered, I don’t understand how you could have gotten that.

Are you sure that that is what you saw? sighed the leader of the meditation.

I was dismayed by this…and at the time, I recall that I was ridiculed for not taking the meditation seriously and the woman who’d led the meditation eventually opined that the presence of fools gold always represents/symbolizes ‘what  is not for you’

At the time, I felt that it meant that the Gods were rejecting me in some way, and I feared that that meant that perhaps the Pagan path was not for me.

And I took that to heart.

And it would seem that a lot of those ‘experienced’ Pagans (‘experienced’ at least by virtue of the fact that they’d been practicing at this Paganism thing a lot longer than I had) had some rather specific opinions about what is and isn’t an appropriate level of piety during guided mediation.

Honestly, I was just trying to fit in…or at least, find others like myself in the Pagan community…and yet, in this small way, I was looked upon as this person who wasn’t taking things seriously enough, whether I was sharing my experiences or I was asking questions.

In short, I began to feel as a bit of an outsider at their rituals, as no one seemed to take me or my experiences seriously.

Because, in their eyes, if I was taking things seriously, I’d be getting meaningful gifts like roses or silver chalices or the feather of a spring robin, or…whatever.

I became discouraged.

I began to question myself.*

~~~

And several years after that, in 2000, I was sitting at a Catholic funeral.

I could have sworn that I had silenced my phone. I distinctly recall turning off the ringer before putting it in my handbag.

And yet, my cell phone rang loudly right in the middle of the priest’s sermon.

Just as he was just getting to the part about how even during times our darkest times of spiritual struggle, we can all find shelter within the arms of the Lord.

It was embarrassing certainly, except for the fact that it was even more so in that my cell’s ringtone at that time was a clip of the chorus from Rage Against the Machine’ No Shelter:

(There will be no shelter here/the thin line is everywhere…)

~~~

So that doughnut must mean I’m not taking this seriously enough.

And yes, that fool’s gold must be a sign that that path was not for me.

And certainly, despite how respectful I was trying to be during a beloved relative’s Catholic funeral…

I took that as a sign that I, for one, am not meant to find shelter in the arms of (that) God.

And so, what did I do?

I ran.

I decided none of it was for me.

Even though it broke my heart to think that any form of spirituality as I understood it was not for me.

But there were more answers in store.

~~~

*In retrospect, I realize that I gave in too easily to the discernment of others, rather than my own discernment. (And yes, I would be presented with that lesson again and again.)

*scene missing*

Hey, how are you all doing?

I realized that I haven’t really written an actual post in quite a while, though it’s not for lack of material.

Often, when I am planning to write about certain topics, my brain will inadvertently begin constructing these wonderfully succinct, perfectly worded posts upon those topics – usually while I’m doing something else (like doing the dishes, walking my dogs, or at worst, trying to sleep).

But the funny thing is, when when I sit down to write out those thoughts, I can’t think of what it was that I intended to say. My vocabulary just disappears!  All of those effortless turns of phrase will suddenly feel out of reach, and I often feel like the moment is damned near lost as I wrack my brain trying to recapture whatever it was.

So, in that sense, my brain is filled with these half-formed drafts of well-thought-out posts:

 

So I’ve been taking this biweekly class on divination and mediumship.

Recently, when I was looking over the weekly ‘homework,’ I notice that the instructor will often reference information from the ‘class page’ or the ‘website’ and I realized

much to my dismay!

that I don’t know what he means.

So I went looking on the Internet for the information, only I could not find anything resembling a ‘class page’ or a ‘class website’, except the initial class registration page, and his FB page (which seemed to be simply a mirror site of that registration page.)

So then I sent him an email, asking specifically what he was referring to when he mentioned ‘as you may have  seen on the website’ or ‘as was discussed on the class page…’

And, as he seems to live on the West Coast, I didn’t expect to hear from him a few hours.

Instead, I got to thinking about this anxiety that I’ve been having, not just regarding this class, but concerning my overall approach to my devotional practice lately. And, as I went about my morning tasks, I began to overthink, trying to pinpoint the root of my anxiety.

It occurred to me that I might have a fear of missing out.

Or perhaps my  anxiety is rooted in the fear that others have access to something that I don’t seem to have access to, as represented by this class page/website that the instructor seems to reference.

And as a result, I am left feeling stuck. Feeling that I must be doing something wrong…that there must be a disconnect somewhere.

And suddenly I was struck with a thought: what if the reason that I cannot find this page that the instructor references is simply because there isn’t one?

What if the root of my fear – and therefore my anxiety – is that I am chasing after the lack of access to something that I’ve only imagined?

What if, indeed?

~~~

Well I still haven’t heard from him.

Perhaps I have answered my own question.

Fragile.

So, as a parent, a Floridian, and an American citizen, I have been thinking a lot about the issues surrounding guns and gun control, along with some personal thoughts on being so recently reminded of the fragility of life and the (sometimes horrifying) inevitability of change.

While I had planned on writing a post about these thoughts – including my opinion that while Donald Trump might talk a good game, I find it highly unlikely that he’d have the wherewithal to run into an active shooter situation to save anybody – I realized that the facts of the experience which I’d meant to call upon to back this personal opinion are presently unavailable to me.

Y’see, in December 22, 2009, I had my own terrifying experience with an active shooter situation … and while I did protect my child (who was seven years old at the time) and myself, the sobering reality of that situation forever changed my mind concerning What I Would Do in an Active Shooter Situation.*

So, unlike Donald Trump… I do know what I would do … and honestly, it wasn’t what I would have thought that I would have done.

But as you might imagine, such situations never seem to play out exactly the way that one would expect, and that’s what makes them so jarring in the way they define our views and responses ever after.

But at any rate, it saves you all from having to read my heavy thoughts on a rather uncomfortable topic, but I had planned to tell you all about it by sharing a glimpse of a defining personal experience.

Instead, I leave you with the haunting truth of  this:

 

 

 

~~~

*But unfortunately, my access to the finer details of those memories – in the form of a heavily filtered LiveJournal post that I made two days after the event to inform several worried out-of-state friends – is unavailable to me at this time.

It turns out that I cannot log into my LiveJournal after 5+ years of solid inactivity and expect myself to remember the exact password.