This is a perfect example of pandoramancy.
I had never heard of this song before – and yet it was suggested on my recommended play list on YouTube – and because I’d left my playlist on autoplay, it played through without my having chosen it early yesterday morning.
But it conveys certain aspects of my feelings quite well.
❤
Beginning on Wednesday 31 August until Friday 9 September, I did Dagulf Loptson’s 9 day ritual, Breaking Loki’s Bonds.
I spent Tuesday collecting the supplies.
I bought a new red 8-hour candle, three white 4-hour candles, a bottle of Jameson Irish whiskey, and a thick red double-sided satin ribbon.
The other things needed – a fire-proof container, a Sharpie pen, a large needle for carving, and sharps/lancets – were items that I thankfully had on hand.
(Much to my dismay, I realized that I had misplaced the knife that I’d planned to use, and since I did not have a suitable knife on hand, I ended up purchasing a new one later on in the week. Trust me, certain items – the knife especially – turned out to be something you need to trust in, whether or not you ever find yourself using it again.)
As well, this ritual, as it is written, involves a lot of rune writing/carving, so be aware of the runes. While I don’t consider myself a rune-master by any means, I am familiar with runes enough that I was able to spell out what I needed to. You will be writing in runes on days 2-7.
(Here is a handy rune converter if needed.)
31 August: The First Meditation
The first meditation concerns asking.
On Wednesday night, I approached Loki, and invited Him to aid me in transforming my life.
By the way, I am terrible at guided meditations. While I’ve no doubt a vivid imagination, I have especial difficulty in visualizing if I have to jump between reading a text and visualizing the effect, so I spent a good half-hour recording myself reading the text aloud so I could set the visuals of the first meditation in my mind that first night.
Though I feared that the first night would be excruciatingly intense, in retrospect, the first night was the easiest night of all.
And just after I finished the first meditation, I went to bed.
And just before I dropped off to sleep, in crazy-town (commonly referred to as my head post-ritual), I heard my name called out (loudly!) twice.
I couldn’t figure out if it was coming from inside or out.
Perhaps He wanted to talk…but I fell asleep. 😬
This was His question during the first night’s meditation:
Are you ready to claim responsibility for yourself and the fruit of your own actions? Are you ready to see yourself as you truly are?
~~~
1 September: The Second Meditation:
Sigyn: Look in the mirror. What do you see?
Loki: Who do you have bound here?
-I saw myself, my younger self – the other Heathir*
The one pinned against the wall, disassociating, feeling humiliated. The one who is strong and creative who hides her light, dulls her shine, full of fear, feeling defeated. The one who waits in the dark. The one who cries. The one who has lost hope. The one who was trapped by duty, trying to fill the void that did not originate in her/with her.
This realization – and those visuals – unhinged me to a great degree, but in retrospect, I should not have been surprised: I am the one who is holding myself back.
I wrote ‘the other Heathir’ – in runes -on the bottle of whiskey. (I also wrote that phrase – in English – above the runes, in case I forgot what I wrote.)
The whiskey represents the hidden ‘poison’ as it were, that is staining my life. This is the truth I am hiding.
~~~
2 September: The Third Meditation:
What are your fetters made of?
I saw that the other Heather *is* bound in fetters.
Somehow I sensed that they were made of iron.
This is the strength of fear, the fear that holds in place, fear that seems insurmountable. Also anger, despair, and hunger for freedom/understanding, but fear mostly.
So I wrote ‘Fear made of iron’ in runes on the red ribbon.
~~~
3 September: The Fourth Meditation:
Who holds the bowl for you? Who are your allies?
Today, I see the box – with 9 locks! – where the weapon Lævateinn is kept.
K is my first ally: K.
K has always been my first ally.
Young and strong and full of love, K is the key and I am the door.
I fucked up.
I misread the ritual script, and I thought all 3 allies would show today.
So, after K, I immediately saw my father and then, I saw Loki.
I carved all three candles – easily enough – but then I had trouble drawing blood from my fingers.
I hacked up first two fingers before realizing my left ring finger (finger I wear Loki’s ring) bleeds rather well.
So I blooded and galdr’d (spoke-sung aloud the rune names) for all three candles.
K’s initials. My father’s initials. Loki.
I unlocked the first three locks.
~~~
4 September: The Fifth Meditation:
I woke up this morning, and there were spots of blood all over my pillowcase.
Last night, I realized that I had made a mistake.
So I burned off the two rune sets off the two candles #2 (my father) and #3 (Loki) to re-set.
Set second candle.
Who is your second ally?
And I Immediately saw a Fox.
Bright green eyes and surreal red fur.
I could not shake that image from my sight.
I quickly realized that Fox is cunning and quick, and upon a closer look, I saw that this Fox wore three colors in the form of three threads twisted red, yellow and green, that twined down its back and around and around its tail.
The Fox had threads in its fur that are red and yellow and green.
As Fox licked my face, I asked if it would lead me out of the dark cave when it was time.
And Fox nodded. As I prepared to carve the runes, I realized something important.
Do you know there is no letter X in runes? I learned that today.
Because I had to carve its name into the candle. F O K S
And when I had finished blooding and galdring those runes, Fox bowed again and licked my face, saying:
I will lead you through the darkness – my eyes are light in the dark.
Trust me. I am the spirit of Wisdom and Cunning that you must trust to help you.
I am the Pathfinder! I will show the way, the secret way…soon enough.
And with that, Fox turned and ran off, making tiny silent tracks soft across the snowy field.
I unlocked the second set of three locks.
5 September: The Sixth Meditation:
Who is your third ally?
I spent quite some time in intensely deep meditation upon my 3rd ally.
It took some negotiation before the 3rd ally would finally come forward.
You see, my father didn’t come forward this time. I think my father had said no. 😦
Then I heard someone mention that it should be (my older son) by name. (I heard his name).
(I wondered if he had said ‘no’ too.)
Then I saw a woman cloaked in burnt red robes. And then I saw an enormous raptor – a hawk – who was somehow Her too.
It seemed that my third ally is the far-seeing Hawk-woman.
(Just as the Fox seems likely to have been Loki, it seems entirely possible that the Hawk was a shapeshifting Freyja.)
She then told me that She can see far above and, like Fox, She would be another guide through the darkness.
She is strength and perseverance in the face of battle.
So I carved the runes to spell ‘Hawk’ on the third white candle, and I galdred them.
Then, as the ritual directed, I set the candles and began to chant the meditation again to thank each ally, as now I been approached by all three:
Thank you, K for your assistance.
(interruption!)**
Thank you Fox, for Your cunning.
Thank you, Hawk, for Your sight-gifts
_
Thank you, K for your faith.
Thank You Loki for Your help.
Thank You Freya for Your strength.
_
Thank you, K for your alliance.
Thank You my Beloved for Your Love.
Thank You My Lady for Your Guidance.
I unlocked the final set of three locks.
The ritual then directed that the three candles should be allowed to burn to socket.
Oddly enough, though the candles were labeled as having a 4 hour burn time, the ritual lasted about one half hour, all told.
But within the next hour, all three burned out completely. O.o
Powerful stuff!
~~~
6 September: The Seventh Meditation:
What is the source of your liberation?
Today the meditation focused on the blade which is the sword that was forged by Loki, Lævateinn
This day’s meditation had me opening the – now unlocked – box where Lævateinn is kept.
A word, concept or image will be revealed to me as appearing on the surface of the blade.
I chanted to Loptr to reveal to me the source of my liberation.
Suddenly, an image of a(n anatomically correct) heart flashed through my mind.
(As well, an image of the tear-stained face of my child-self also flashed briefly in my mind’s-eye. Her eyes were dark with tears.)
Suddenly, a thought flowed through my mind: Do you love her?
Suddenly I looked down at the blade and saw the word: Love.
Love was the source of my liberation. My love for that other self, that other Heathir, would free her from her bonds.
So I wrote the word ‘Love’ in Futhark runes on both sides of the blade and blooded each rune as I galdr’d their names.
~~~
7 September: The Eighth Meditation:
This is the day that I will use Lævateinn
Tonight, it was difficult to visualize the cave.
I couldn’t see Them, but I could sense the sword in my hand. It is rather heavy.
I feared that I would not be able to lift it high enough and get a good angle to cut His bonds.
My mind gets so hung up on such particular details, I suppose.
I started to think about what His bonds were made of vs. my own.
Earlier in the meditations, He had said that guilt kept Him bound – the guilt of not having been able to protect His children.
And I thought of myself, and how interesting to think that my fear was the means that I had been holding bound that other Heathir within myself.
Suddenly it made a weird kind of connection and I thought about how fear was at the basis of a lot of things in my situation, in my world – guilt and fear. Fear of change, fear of the unknown, fear of the inevitable future. And the choices that are made because of the fear of loss.
And for a moment I could see His eyes and the weariness and pain in them, and I raised the sword.
I cut the bonds at His shoulders, and thought about fear of not being accepted, of not being loved or understood. (The fear that leads to hatred/judgment and misunderstanding) Fear of the past.
I cut the bonds at His pelvis and thought about fear of judgment, fear of failure, fear of pain. And I found myself sobbing at the difficulty, as I could see the face of that little girl, that other Heathir, my child-self, sobbing too.
I am tired of being afraid, I am terrified of being trapped here, her eyes seemed to plead….
I cut the bonds at His knees, and thought about fear of inevitable change, fear of loss, fear of what the future holds…
And I thought about love.
How I used to think that love dies in the presence of fear, but here, love was the means to overcome fear.
Then it was time to cut away my bonds; to cut the ribbon I had made.
I momentarily entertained the fear that my own actual blade would be too dull to cut through the ribbon, but it flawlessly sliced through the fabric, into three pieces.
Then, as clear as day, I saw the vision of the other Heathir, bound there before my eyes…and just as it was with Loki, it took three strokes.
And with each stroke, I chanted my intent:
I see you. I recognize you.
I know you. I value you.
You are free. I am free.
I told her:
You are safe.
You are strong.
You are powerful.
You are loved.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
You have not failed. You are free.
There is no need to hide.
There is no need to punish yourself anymore.
There is no need to fear happiness or freedom or change.
And I allowed myself to cry and feel and know that I would never deny that – or her – again.
We are. We are. We are.
I am free.
We are both free.
~~~
8 September: the Ninth Meditation:
Today is the end.
Today He is free and so am I.
Today is about recognizing Him and recognizing myself.
Today I ritually burn the three pieces of the ribbon
As well, the bottle I put aside -that signifies the venom of the snake becoming the medicine – that was a powerful metaphor. We are going to drink it in celebration.
(So do not forget to bring a cup to drink from on the ninth day! 🙂 )
They had a personal message for me, and I realized that I have traveled a long road to Them.
Their message for me was profound and personal and Their words meant everything to me. I was almost in tears all over again – tears of catharsis, tears of release.
This was such a cathartic and necessary ritual for me.
So I placed the three pieces of ribbon in the miniature firepit I created. His (Loki’s) candle threatened to go out several times throughout, as one is to use the flame of His candle to burn the ribbon.***
Wax was everywhere. The scent of apple cinnamon candles, whiskey and burnt ribbon permeate my altar space, even now many hours later.
But it is done. And it was definitely worth doing.
And I feel lighter in spirit and more connected to my Gods.
Thank you, K.
Thank You, Loki.
Thank You, Freyja.
❤
~~~
~~~
~~~
*The second meditation was so intense and vivid that I dedicated a post to just the specific visuals here.
__
**K walked in right as I set his candle thanking him for his faith and steadfastness defense/aid. He startled me. And I felt disheveled for the rest of the meditation. O.o
K was the first ally and I had just finished saying- ‘thank you K—-‘
and I hear K—- say ‘Hello.’
I startled – and I looked up to see K is standing there, standing just within the doorway to my meditation area.
I didn’t even hear K knock.
‘I’m going to bed’ he says.
(K had mentioned that he had asked Loki for permission to enter the circle; K told me, and I quote, that Loki had given it, saying:
OK — but make it quick!
And that’s why K was there.
But GAH. I almost jumped out of my skin! 😬
__
*** The ribbon – being satin and likely polyester – didn’t burn very well. But again, I sat with it but it took a long time – with several re-lightings – for it to burn to ash. But 20 long minutes later, it was done. I hope I did it right. What a perfectionist I am!
If I recommended this ritual to anyone, I would suggest using a ribbon that is made of paper or another fabric besides satin – that satin fancy shit doesn’t burn well and it smells awful. 😦
As well, again I didn’t read the ritual script as closely as I should have, and I poured way too much into the cup! The protocol is to drink the entire contents in one draught while you [and They] watch your bonds burn. So I am not the slightest bit ashamed to admit that I was pretty well lit by the time the ritual was over as 3 large shots’ worth of Jamesons’ will definitely fuck you up quick. LOL
I have been wanting to write and I promised to write – it was the reason for this month’s writing project (which was not so playfully named ‘Keeping it 100’*) – but as you might notice, I haven’t been keeping up with it this particular July/Month for Loki.
There are reasons, and I am trying to decide if I really want to get into all of them, because Heaven knows, I had plenty that I’d planned to write about, plenty that I’d promised to write about.
It’s more serious than usual in that not only had I promised myself that I’d carry the project through the whole month, I promised Him that I’d write about these topics and that I would carry it through by writing in this blog every day for a month.
We struck a deal of sorts, and I reneged in the sense that I did not follow through on my part.
I had promised to tell a story that I have not told.
It’s not that I had a shortage of posts, or that I never intended to tell the story. As a matter of fact, I have enough posts sitting in draft as well as several other posts written that only require that I cut and past them from the file folder on my laptop where I’ve stored them. They are in order, as I had planned.
You see, it is not that I stopped writing. It is that I did write but I refused to post, and that was what I promised Him that I wouldn’t do. I promised Him that I would share as much of the story as I could, no matter how uncomfortable things got, no matter how controversial the topics were….and yet…
I have not.
So what happened?
I got sick around the 15th of the month, as I may have mentioned in several of my latest posts.
A few of my friends pointed out that if I hadn’t been keeping up with my writing, of course that was understandable.
If I was ill – and I still am recovering from that double ear infection and sinus infection – that it stood to reason that I should rest and recuperate.
Several opined that I was being too hard on myself to think that He wouldn’t understand, that He would insist that I write anyway.
But I wrote every day. The writing is not the hardest part. It has never been the hardest part. He knew (just like anyone else who knows me well) that the purpose of the project had nothing to do with a writer’s block or an inability to express myself.
In essence, what He asked for was that I stop censoring myself; that I stop hiding – privatizing posts, or posting my thoughts in my less-frequented blog. He was asking for me to make my writing entirely public and highly accessible, to post ‘where it counts’ meaning where people could see and respond to my thoughts if they so chose.
He wanted me out of my comfort zone. It was an exercise to force me out of my social anxiety.
And so, He wanted me to stop keeping secrets, to be authentic and unashamed of who I am and what I am and what I do — for one month.
Just for one month, and then I could go back to ‘hiding’ if I so chose.
He didn’t care (because, if you know me, you know that I argued with Him) if ten thousand other people had written about such things ten thousand times before I wrote about them, before I would write about them.
He wants His people to express themselves fully, and He doesn’t care if you’ve all heard the stories before; He places great value on self-expression.
Perhaps it’s more than that: It’s about self-knowledge. It’s about fearlessness.
He wants us all to tell our stories….or at the very least, be fearless and unashamed about telling our stories.
~~~
*Believe me, you have heard this story before:
And yet, you’d better believe He never gets tired of hearing that story.
~~~
So, as you might imagine, I haven’t any VALID excuses.
What struck me the most about this quote is that is unattributed except for
written by him
The Universe is funny.
When I saw this on my media feed this evening, it had all the earmarks of a message as if it was written by Him.
For it is true, you know:
If you seek Him, you will find Him
in the depths between
All these places you’ve come to know
And all those places you’ve yet to go.
Since I am still struggling with several overlapping illnesses at this time – ear infection, sinus infection, and general malaise – you may that I haven’t had much of the wherewithal to write these past few days.
Hence the reason that I’ve gotten so behind in keeping up with my daily posts this July in the Month for Loki.
But I have been reading a lot – and this powerful post came across my WordPress feed today, concerning Loki as a God Who is rather popular with folks who have struggled with various forms of abuse, difficulty, and dysfunction in their lives. I agree with her especially in this:
One of the biggest groups of people who tend to find themselves interacting with Loki are those who have been abused in some way. The ones who have lost themselves and need to be guided back – who need to learn who they are again. Loki teaches us that it’s okay to not be okay. He teaches us that it’s okay to be wounded and feel the wound so that it can heal properly.
While my experiences were not exactly the same as those of Ms. Kyaza, I can relate to a lot of her experiences, especially in regards to dysfunctional family relationships.
I can definitely identify with the ambivalent feelings that arise out of having suffered physical and emotional abuse at the hands of those whom I trusted most to love and respect me.
In fact, there were several occasions wherein I found myself dangerously close to tears while reading her post, as her description of her thoughts and feelings about her mother and their relationship so closely resonated with my own experiences so powerfully.
Reading her post made me feel a strange mixture of feelings.
I felt both a sense of exposure and a sense of triumphant relief in reading this post.
I felt an incredible sense of exposure and shame – as in reading her words, I was so acutely reminded of the immensity of my own desire to please my mother (and in turn, my siblings) who often rejected my efforts by responding with anger, ridicule or outright dismissal. And yet, I remember that guilt, that shame. I had grown up feeling that somehow, if I could just do better, work harder, love more – then finally, I would receive love; I would deserve love.
And yet, while reading, I also felt an undercurrent of strange relief – here was someone who writes so eloquently of navigating emotional landmines that I understand.
I felt understood. I felt heard.
I am not alone in this pain.
I am not the only one.
You see, I have both loved and hated my mother and my siblings – and as a result, in turn, as a woman and as a mother, I have both loved and hated myself. I struggled – and still struggle – with the emotional scars of my upbringing. I crave to feel understood, to feel safe, to feel loved, and yet I have been skeptical of the existence of a relationship wherein I can feel understood, safe and loved. Sometimes, I find myself skeptical of those who have tried to nurture me, so deeply ingrained was my belief that I did not deserve even my mother’s love, the love of my brothers and sisters.
It took me years to decipher that it was not my inadequacy or failing, but the lack of self-love and incapacity to receive love that my mother (and perhaps of those even further back) suffered with that continues this horrible chain.
It affects all of my relationships. I have tried valiantly to be the mother that my own wasn’t, and yet, I still find myself wondering if I’ve fallen short, if I’ve done a disservice to my children. As a person, I have endeavored to be emotionally reliable, compassionate, and kind, and yet, sometimes, I am a victim of my own perfectionism and pessimism, and my own distorted habits and worldviews.
I am estranged from my family, even today.
But the truth is, I am no longer estranged from myself. I am no longer lost.
I had to learn to break the cycle of the past. It is daily work to remain mindful of my emotional responses and reactions whenever I interact with others. (Is it kind? Is it necessary? Am I responding from a place of love and understanding rather than from fear or anger, for example.)
I have learned to be acutely aware of my own negative self-talk and self-limiting behaviors and beliefs. I am learning to accept myself and recognize my strengths and weaknesses, as well as accepting and recognizing that everyone else also has their own struggles with similar issues, with similar emotions, behaviors and beliefs about themselves – and none of us are perfect. Perfection is stagnation.
I am learning to allow myself …to feel vulnerable. To feel angry. To be open to my own emotions and not fear the emotions, reactions, or responses of others. I am learning to be accountable. I am learning to let go of what doesn’t work and focus on what does. I am learning to let go and trust the process. Trust Him and trust myself.
Loki taught me a lot of these things. He has taught me to embrace imperfection, to confront fear of loss or change, to let go of the need to control outcomes, to work with what I’ve been given, and most of all, to allow myself, to open myself to love.
Love the process of living, love the process of learning.
Just…LOVE.
~~~
Hail Loki, God of the lost and…found.
Thank You for finding me.
❤
So. I am still sick with the flu that I’d caught from V the week before last.
And I was talking to a friend – who is spirit-touched and a Reiki practitioner – about my symptoms the other day.
You see, I have been suffering a great deal of sinus congestion, a headache, and most concerning of all, I have had a near-constant nosebleed for the past week.
My friend was pointing out that the combination of sinus congestion followed by nosebleeds could indicate the opening of my third eye.
And I was surprised to hear that, as I have always felt that I am almost completely headblind, but since my return from Arizona (following the ritual that occurred there), I have felt more ‘open,’ and as a result, I have had several rather vivid experiences.
Though I hadn’t thought to connect the increase in my experiences with the frequency of my nosebleeds.
~~~
(8:30 AM)
I have been stressing about what I should be writing again.
I woke up about 30 minutes ago.
I hadn’t intended on getting out of bed. I was still in that hypnogagic state, when I rolled toward the edge of the bed, and ‘sensed’ Loki there. He was standing there by the bed, and I distinctly remember muttering, ‘Let’s go.’
I had just awakened from a vivid dream concerning a small body of water, because I could recall seeing Him standing in the water, naked to the waist, waiting for me to join Him. And how, upon wading in, I received a clear visual of a short poem.
It looked like an Internet meme tile.
It was a poem about an experience – a magical experience – written by someone named Walter.
Unlike other times when I have dreamt of written words, the visual image of these words appeared surprisingly clear and easy to read, in black ink on a yellow lined paper.**
I think that I had been reading this paper.
But something had distracted me.
(Oddly enough, I could still hear the TV in the bedroom in the background — and it was distracting me. I could distinctly hear some news channel commentary concerning Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton, and all of that.)
I recall that I had been reading this poem to myself, as if I had been trying to memorize it, as I may have been intending to make a post of it today.
But then, I’d begun to wake up.
I am trying to think of what this poem had made me think and feel – as I’d felt that I’d almost had it memorized – but then I’d let the TV distract me.
All I can remember was the first line:
Let us go to the well, and you will chart your first experience here…
I recall that the poem had a lilting sort of subtle rhythm as I whispered the words to myself – possibly an ABBA or even an ABCD-ABCD rhyme scheme. I was amazed that I’d been able to see the words so clearly as I’d spoken them aloud, and I remember thinking that I wasn’t that deeply asleep and yet, so deep and so clear were the words that I was speaking. I repeated them to myself several times – but somehow – how? why? – had I allowed the TV to intrude, rather than to ignore it and focus on what I had been saying?
Maybe this is not about my memory of the poem at all.
Perhaps this is the lesson:
The words, the experiences would all be clear to me if I allowed them to be.
And yet I jump away from away from these experiences and cast about for a distraction to take my focus away from them, from the possibility of recalling them.
(Perhaps this is what He means when He insists that I am still running; I am still afraid.)
We are standing at the Well of Memory and I am fussing over poetry?
Relax.
Relax. Let yourself be like water. The words were flowing over you, were they not?
You asked for a session. This was your session.
You heard [the television], yes, but you still had access to your vision of Me, and what We were doing…
These things can and do co-exist.
These ‘realities’ are nothing more than undercurrents of each other and you can tap into these multiple streams at any time that you wish.
(Am I so skilled as all that…or is it simply that easy?)
Yes…and no. It is that simple, but, as you might guess, it is not EASY.
Do you see the way you struggle with relaxing, with remembering? Let go of your need to describe every detail and just allow the flow.
That is the lesson. Stop putting these rules and all these parameters on it. Stop trying to document the experience as you are experiencing it and just let yourself see, let yourself feel, and you will remember it.
Stop thinking of these experiences as something unusual that is only given to you in pieces with all those attendant fears that suddenly you will forget.
Let yourself remember. Let yourself relax.
The fear drives it away from you, pushes it away from your understanding.
You will forget if you are always afraid to forget.
~~~
When I realized that I’d fully awakened, I blew my nose. There was blood coming out of my left nostril again.
(Clear out this logic…trust this process rang in my head.)
Perhaps this is what was meant when another Lokean friend and I were discussing this project at the beginning of the month.
I’d asked Him for a clue, a means to begin the project, and He’d said (through her, through some automatic writing):
Be fluid. Be more fluid.
~~~
And related to these hypnagogic conversations, here’s bit of pandoramancy:
~~~
I don’t know who Courtney A. Walsh is, but zie sounds like Someone I know.
You deserve a lover
who wants you disheveled,
with everything
and all the reasons that wake you up in a haste
and the demons that won’t let you sleep.
You deserve a lover who makes you feel safe,
who can consume this world whole
if he walks hand in hand with you;
someone who believes that his embraces
are a perfect match with your skin.
You deserve a lover
who wants to dance with you,
who goes to paradise every time
he looks into your eyes
and never gets tired
of studying your expressions.
You deserve a lover who listens when you sing,
who supports you when you feel shame
and respects your freedom;
who flies with you and isn’t afraid to fall.
You deserve a lover who takes away the lies
and brings you
hope, coffee, and poetry.
*Frida Kahlo*
(shared by Lee Harrington)
Being still sick with this flu, I spent most of this day in an almost meditative haze.
As in, I meditated heavily upon my follow-up to this entry.
And this is what came up:
Who bows to whom?
We are both switches, you see.
But I don’t know if He is talking about the relationship between He and Odin
… or if He is talking about the relationship between Himself and me.
~~~
The first thing that came up in my email feed was this powerful video post from a blog I follow:
Gage Wallace: How We Have Learned to Love
and how the poet has allowed words to separate him – how words separate us all – from facing each other in love.
That post was followed within moments by Jolene Poseidonae’s post on how ‘the heart must go first. [and] The brain may follow’ **
~~~
What I took from these two posts was to mean was that I have allowed this little writing project of mine to limit myself in my words already.
I promised to write and yet I have allowed the words to separate Loki and I from each other.
He doesn’t really care what words I use, as long as I write the truth of the story.
And the truth of the story is difficult for me to admit to because it requires a certain amount of writing with an openness and eye towards vulnerability that I am not used to.
I have begged Him to take me deeper and yet it has been the words that have always separated us.
When I taught other kinksters about words as ordeal and how words can make thoughts manifest –
How with the use of words alone, one can create powerful connections!
I was also acutely aware of the concept that Gage Wallace speaks of concerning about how the distance between lovers can be created just as easily — created by the words on the tiny screen of an iPhone.
Words can bring together and words can separate. Names, titles, concepts, aspects….do they matter?
Well, it all matters just as much as it doesn’t matter, because words have a fluidity of meaning and power than is entirely dependent upon context and meaning.
We give words the power they have, and yet once they are said, or heard, their power becomes dependent upon others’ understanding of meaning and context.
Whether one is having a conversation or an argument, words are means by which access is given to thoughts, ideas, and feelings.
We connect with our words. We encourage with our words. We open up to others with our words.
But we can also wound with our words. We can shut down connection with words. We can separate ourselves from others with labels, titles, names, designations. We can lie, confuse, obfuscate meaning. We can hide behind our words.
Words can open and words can limit.
~~~
When Loki first came to me, almost from the beginning, I wanted to know Who He was.
And He wouldn’t tell me.
So I put words on Him:
Magician.
God.
But I realize that Loki encompasses all of these words…and yet, none of these words.
~~~~
**I love that last line, by the way. It is a perfect description of where my devotional practice with Loki seems to be going this month. I was equally tempted to use those words as the title for today’s post.
I feel like my throat is closing up.
My throat feels raw and it is painful to swallow. My senses seem dulled as my sinuses are filled with congestion.
Perhaps this is nothing but a chest cold, a head cold. My head feels as if I am under water, and there is a strange metallic taste in my mouth. My eyes water and my muscles ache.
Perhaps this is really nothing at all besides my simply being sick.
But I am not telling my story.
I know my task. I know what stories I have promised to tell and yet I am having trouble speaking of them. I am having trouble writing about them.
I know that He wants me to write of how things changed.
How Loki as the Teacher and the Magician slowly morphed into Loki as the Lover in mid-2013.
You see, my husband of 20 years was having an affair and that knowledge of that fact devastated me.
So Loki came forward, first to comfort, and then to strengthen and empower me in my feelings of brokenness and betrayal.
Ever the Teacher, He sought to show me –through use of Himself as an example – how I should be loved. Simple as that: He sought to love me and to heal me with a fierce and steadfast tenderness that I continue to marvel over, even to this day.
But I didn’t want His love…in the sense that I felt that I could not possibly deserve it. I did not believe that I deserved His fierce loyalty, His honeyed promises, His gentle touches. Instead, I insisted upon a passionate, almost feral connection.
I was angry and avoidant.
I didn’t expect to be understood, much less, did I expect to be loved.
I pushed Him away.
I refused to see; I resisted recognizing Him as anything other than a Being Who could break me and I sought to be broken.
I wanted to experience the height of relationship that I had recently been teaching others about – I wanted to experience a consensual, BDSM-fueled dynamic.
But He refused.
Our ‘scenes’ were passionate, yes, but He refused to cause me any pain.
Though I begged for Him to transform me through pain, He responded:
Why? You have been through enough pain…and yet you have not learned.
So He approached me with care and kindness. I daresay His behavior was all romance and gentility, and my response was I wanted desperately to shut down:
That is not for me, I wept and I raged, That has never been for me. I don’t believe in that.
And so I hid from Him.
I pushed Him so hard.
I dared Him to grab me by the neck and shame me like an errant puppy.
I waffled between fear and rage.
I was either afraid of Him or I was angry/despairing of Him.
I was insistent: You do not love me. You cannot love me. No one can.
But He simply smiled and blinked and continued to present Himself to me, in dreams.
He spread Himself out like water at my feet.
He stroked my face with tender hands.
He bowed down low, head to the ground, and asked me how He could serve.
To be honest, He was a better submissive than I ever could have been, and yet I still argued, how – why – what had I ever done to deserve such devotion, such heartfelt words, such considerate actions? The acts of His submission were all rooted in my own personal repertoire, and yet He faced me with every single one of them, challenging me to consider Him and to receive Him as I sought to be received in the BDSM dynamic I craved/created with so many others.
Allow Me to care for you as you have cared for others.
Allow Me.
Allow Me, He whispered over and over.
He often tried to convince me, cajole me into recognizing Him in the shape-shifting flurry of faces, of former play-partners and past lovers that I’d see in my dreams:
I see you. Do you see Me?
See Me.
Look Me in the face.
See Your Beloved. I am here before you.
He demanded eye contact. He accepted no less.
And still, I ran. I avoided. I cried.
I would not look Him in the eye.
But He was patient…and He was relentless.
~~~
By 2014, I stopped teaching at BDSM events.
Though I’ve been involved in ‘the scene’ for over 20 years now, I have not attended a BDSM event in two years.
(to be continued…)
bloodteethandflame 