Tuesday, July 15, 2014


***Call for Submissions***

The ways in which Heathens relate to and view the Allfather are many and varied, and I'm looking to put together a book of poems, essays, artwork, and accounts of how a wide variety of Heathens see Odin/Woden. I'm looking for scholarly and experiential alike. Ideally, essays or papers should be around 2000 words, but if you have anything longer, there is room for a few longer essays depending on the quality of work. Not all submissions will make it into the book. For example, any accounts of having astral sex with Odin won't make it in and I retain the final say on what goes in.

The book will be put together on a print-on-demand service and any and all profits donated directly to the Fisher House Foundation.

The Fisher House Foundation is a charity that runs a network of comfort homes where military and veterans’ families can stay at no cost while a loved one is receiving treatment. They also run an air miles donation program to help those family members get to where they need to be. For more information on the important work the Fisher House does for service members, veterans, and their families, please go to: https://www.fisherhouse.org/about/

For more information or to submit work, please email me, Cat Heath, at:


Saturday, June 28, 2014


In today's post, I'm going to blog in a way I've never blogged before. I'm going to talk about something that I would generally only reserve for round a campfire with friends.

It was the spring of 2001 and I was in my first year of university. Like other students in the UK where the drinking age is a few years lower than in the US, I took advantage of the cheap club nights and cheap drinks offers that allowed the average student to go out and get steaming drunk on ten pounds or less. Cities are much more walkable in the UK, and so driving or even taxis weren't really a concern, most of us walked home, a method that we affectionately referred to as taking the 'beer scooter'. On this one night I'd been to a ska club night, and at some point over the course of the evening, I'd fallen over and royally twisted my ankle. Naturally I refused all offers to get me to the hospital and proceeded to self medicate with alcohol. In fact I'd self medicated so well, that I even recall the beer scooter going at far higher speeds than usual.

When I got home, I downed some water and crawled into bed. All was fine.

Until the next morning.

When I tried to stand up to go to the bathroom.

And failed.


Moreover, my ankle was more than double the size of its twin. So there I was, needing to go to the hospital, but how to get there when I could barely walk? My phone, a pay as you go, had no credit. My housemate though (who was getting ready for work), was kind enough to allow me to use her phone to call a friend I knew for a fact would be skipping lectures. And so I called, and waited, and there was no answer. I remembered my friend always put her phone on silence to sleep, so I thanked my housemate and hopped back to my bedroom thoroughly depressed at the prospect of being able to do nothing, having nothing but ramen to eat, and all the boredom that whole scenario would entail. My ankle also hurt like a motherfucker. I laid down and considered just crying for the hell of it.

When I heard this ruckus in the tree outside my window. Normally inhabited by coal tits, the small birds were being chased out by two huge ravens who, on clearing the tree, sat on branches and looked at me square on. There was a real sense of presence, of omen about the whole affair, and deep down I had a feeling that it would be fine, that I wouldn't be spending all day stuck waiting for help. At that same moment, my housemate's phone rang, it was the friend I'd tried to call who normally really doesn't call back numbers she doesn't recognise. But as she'd told me later, she'd woken up with the strongest urge to check her phone and call back the number. To this day, she still doesn't know why she suddenly woke up from her deeply hungover sleep with the urge to look at her phone, or why she called back. It was just this strong strong urge. Within half an hour, she was round to help me get to the hospital - a process that took about two hours even though normally you could walk there in less than five minutes.

At the time, although I considered myself heathen, I didn't understand the principles of do ut des, nor did I even really think much of it or worry about gods not giving out 'freebies'. At that time, I didn't even really have deities that I offered to more than others -luck-bringers if you will. But over the years, and many similar situations in which I believe Woden had brought me luck (if not always in the most immediately obvious ways), I came to consider him a luck-bringer.

There's a blog post doing the rounds at the moment about not trusting any one god, that it's better to worship pantheon rather than single deities. However I'm no henotheist, and I think it's entirely natural that over time, we feel more of a connection to some deities over others. After all, we know what it's like to get on better with some family members or groups of people than others.

The blog even referenced Odin as an example of how you couldn't trust gods, and cited one follower's ideas on who he is for her. But as always, whenever I read these descriptions of the Allfather, I am amazed at how different my experience of him has been.

Now I'm not doing the equivalent of portraying the Morrigan as a kindly old grandmother that rides a unicorn here, it's just that I guess I see different sides of him because my worldview is vastly different to someone with a more 'BDSM Dom' idea of Odin. And maybe we only see the sides of deities that benefit us in some way, or that reflect our own personalities?

Either way, for me, the Allfather (whom I call Woden), is the wanderer, he's the wise lore-giver that travels the land turning up in really unexpected ways. He's the word-smith, the lord of language even. He's also healer, magician, ecstatic, eternally curious and hungry for knowledge. And knowledge can be found in many places, not just in the halls of kings, burial mounds, or Urth's well. He is also a seer of sorts, and has the vision to be truly wise. Yes there is obfuscation, and the wearing of masks or personas. There's a feeling of never being able to quite pin down who he is, and that he has been many things to many people. But in all the years I've prayed and offered to him, I can honestly say he's brought me more luck than not, and even when it's seemed like the luck he brought was bad, that ill-luck has more often than not turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

I was 10 or 11 when I first learned about the Allfather. As a child growing up in what was once the Danelaw, we spent a lot of time learning about 'the Vikings', but it was during the 'silent reading' section of our day that I learned the most. The book I kept the longest and read the most was a book of Norse myths. Then as now, the tales gripped me deep down.

And although I started out (as most do) very much inspired by the old Norse sources, my desire to see the 'bigger picture', to go down the layers of time and action, as an also eternally curious being, has seen me look more to those that started my nation and the land of their birth, and in turn has changed my perspective.

In my last post, I wrote about a bracteate I had been offered. A variant of a type C bracteate, the type that is purported to depict the scene of Uuodan healing the foal in the second Merseburg charm.

Although I initially turned it down, the man that offered it to me (completely out of the blue) insisted, and it now sits on a cord about my neck. I can only see luck in that.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

The Second Merseburg Charm and Moving

We're moving, again. This is nothing really new for my husband and I, of course this time, we have a baby (as well as our menagerie), but all in all, it's pretty much par for the course. We're quite nomadic people, rarely staying for longer than three years in one place, and despite all the work and craziness this causes, we like it. This is just who we are. We've made some very good friends in this area, people that we'll miss, but we're not moving so far that we'll never see them again.

Some of those people were supposed to also be moving from the area (until a job offer came up), and so my husband was approached about the possibility of having a pre-move offering ritual. Those of us that move a lot are very very aware of the luck aspects of a move. The whole process of moving and getting set up in a new place is so very very dependent on luck, be that luck the kind you get from wights, ancestors, or your deeds. It can be the difference between a successful move, and one that is nothing short of a disaster.

So on Saturday, we gathered at a local nature preserve to make offerings to Wodan and Thunor.

It's hard having a young baby and being back at work, it's hard finding the time to come up with a ritual format, or what kind of offerings to give, and in truth, the ritual hovered in the back of my mind until the last minute. I was totally uninspired, and wasn't even sure what the relevance was (truth be told).

However inspiration comes from the oddest of places. A few weeks ago, a replica of the Oberwerschen bracteate that ostensibly depicts Frija (or at least a spinning goddess) came out (available from here ). It's two-sided and depicts a replica of another bracteate depicting the same figure that was found in Welschingen. I got it, it was nothing short of a compulsion for me, and I wasn't alone. At least three other ladies that I know bought it. They were sold out within a couple of days of it coming out onto the market - mostly due to the growing popularity of the Holle-Frija cult. As I mostly offer to Frija and Wodan, I then began to wonder about similar representations of Wodan, of the Wodan that I know as opposed to the Scandinavian Odin. See, I don't see the god of Kings, warriors, and skalds that most people think of when they think of the Allfather. I think of the Wodan of the 9 herbs charm, the wanderer, the magician, the healer, the language-giver of the AS rune poem, the lore-giving word-smith, the husband of Frija, the benevolent Allfather of the Neubuerg myth, and yes, the Herela that leads the hunt.

In my enthusiasm for the Spinning goddess bracteate, I posted links to the online store on pretty much every group I participate in. On one of them, a UK-based group, one of the replies I got gave me a great clue to my inspiration. It was a request for identification of a bracteate pendant - one of the Darum/Ribe hoard that is thought to depict the scene from the second Merseburg charm in which Wodan heals Balder's foal's leg. I was then offered the bracteate by the posted that had requested identification, and being conscious of my current inability to exchange gift for a gift, turned it down. However, the seed of inspiration had been planted.

The second Merseburg charm is what we might call a narrative charm in that it relates a story in which the problem the charm seeks to heal occurs, and is healed.

Phol ende uuodan uuorun zi holza.
du uuart demo balderes uolon sin uuoz birenkit.
thu biguol en sinthgunt, sunna era suister;
thu biguol en friia, uolla era suister;
thu biguol en uuodan, so he uuola conda:
sose benrenki, sose bluotrenki, sose lidirenki:
ben zi bena, bluot si bluoda,
lid zi geliden, sose gelimida sin!

Phol and Wodan were riding to the woods,
and the foot of Balder's foal was sprained
So Sinthgunt, Sunna's sister, conjured it.
and Frija, Volla's sister, conjured.
and Wodan conjured it, as well he could:
Like bone-sprain, so blood-sprain,
so joint-sprain:
Bone to bone, blood to blood,
joints to joints, so may they be glued!

The parallels seemed clear to me, healing and luck are one and the same, and a spell of healing that overcomes a travel setback might be a spell of luck to avoid travel setbacks (or at least give us the luck to overcome any setbacks). And so I scribbled the prayer/charm/poem that was to be my travel/move offering/charm/prayer. As I was at work, it was rough and hurried, scribbled on pieces of paper hidden in my pockets. Like the charm that inspired it, I wanted it to be at least semi-narrative in nature, but changing the narration somewhat to fit my purposes and the side of Wodan I wished to call to mind, the wanderer that I have worshipped for years, myself as a wanderer. I also wanted to include something of the original charm, to 'borrow' some of its power and tradition. The original scribbles (albeit eventually copied nicely onto nice paper), was thrown to the flames.

"Once the High One went a-riding
Phol ende Uuodan uuorun zi holza
Foal leg break hindered their course
Under leafy canopies, the Holy ones wondered
How they might fare forth
When stepping forward, the Wodnes-father
Ecstatic and crazed one, his knowledge to share
The pained steed's ears opened
To receive the galdored charm

Ben zi bena
Bluot si bluoda
lid si geliden
sose gelimda sin!

As bone was to bone
Keep us whole
As blood was to blood
Keep us hael
As limb was to limb
Keep us strong

God of knowledge
Os god of language
God of luck

Watch over and inspire our travel."

And the ritual was beautiful :).

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Haelu and Seidr: Manipulation

The last time I wrote about Haelu within the context of Seidr, I wrote about the importance of haelu for the practitioner, and of staying hael. However, in a group conversation a couple of days ago, I realised that I had been neglectful in my exploration of the topic at that point, that I had missed out yet another fundamental way that haelu might be said to underpin the practice of Seidr.

Although there is a lot of debate as to what Seidr actually is in modern circles, chapter seven of the Ynglinga saga is quite clear on what it was perhaps considered to be:

By means of this he could know beforehand
the predestined fate of men, or their not yet completed lot; and
also bring on the death, ill-luck, or bad health of people, and
take the strength or wit from one person and give it to another.

It is on this manipulation of 'luck' and 'health' that I'm going to focus in this blog post. As previously discussed,'Haelu' is a word that can be translated as being both 'luck' and 'health', 'wholeness' and 'holiness', and a hero was no hero unless he was hael. There was no constant with haelu, as with physical health, it was something that could wax and wane in a person, something that could be worked for, fought for, gained, lost, and frittered away.

And where there are no constants, there can always be manipulation.

What if I told you, that rather than picturing haelu as being an either/or thing, that it would be better visualised, again, as with physical health, as a continuum of sorts?

Something a little like this, perhaps?

Now what if each person could be visualised as landing somewhere on that continuum, you know, depending on how hael or unhael they are? If you could somehow assess yourself in terms of haelu, where do you think you would stand on that continuum?

When viewed in this way, would it not be reasonable to consider those that are further towards the 'unhael' side of the continuum to be easier to curse and harder to heal, and those that are further towards the 'hael' side to be easier to heal and harder to curse?

The way I see it, there are two main implications for modern Seidr practitioners if we are to accept this paradigm:

1. That yet again, the importance of Seidr practitioners working towards being, and staying hael is is further emphasised.

2. That if haelu can be manipulated, either positively (healing) or negatively(cursing), we could potentially learn something about the mechanics, in other words the *how* of that positive manipulation using surviving magico-medical texts (such as the Lacnunga). Furthermore, in using those texts (after filtering out the obviously foreign influences), not only can we discern methods for protection, healing, purification etc., but we could also potentially discern something of the worldview from which they were born, and (if so inclined) extrapolate the means of negative manipulation.

Thursday, April 10, 2014


Hey there blog, it's been a while.

And a whole lot of change in the house of Birka.

You see,I became a mother about two and a half weeks ago in a process that was dramatic and drawn out (when is childbirth *not* dramatic though?). Pregnancy wasn't easy for me, and between the hypermobility in my joints that almost saw me crippled and out of work by week twenty, the bout of scarily high blood pressure at the end, and the pelvis that wasn't very conducive to birth, my body seems particularly unsuited for carrying and having babies.

Which is ironic seeing how getting pregnant took over four years of trying in the first place, and I'd wanted an all natural childbirth with no interventions, only to end up with the birth with ALL the interventions.

As I've said before, it's a good job I've got a sense of humour, and really, when I think about what I'd hoped for vs what actually happened, moreover, what *had* to happen for the sake of both of us, I do laugh some.

Some people talk about natural childbirth as being almost a transcendental experience, the pain putting them in an altered state of consciousness. A friend told me that I would see the disir during childbirth.

Through my three days of induced labour, I don't believe I saw anything or experienced anything as transcendental as that, but on the final day, things seem to shift on a dime.

I'd spent all night in some approximation of the dreaded back labour, mostly flopped over a yoga ball because it was the only position that didn't hurt as much as the others. Tensing up through another contraction, a nurse came in that we hadn't met yet - nothing new - but her demeanour was so different. Instead of waiting for the contraction to be over like the other nurses did before talking to me, she began to talk me through it, in terms of energy manipulation, and I followed. This had been my third night of no sleep and being in pain, and day number three was about to start with no progress since my admission on the first night. The contractions, while strong, were sporadic - my body was failing me and any dreams of a natural birth were disappearing faster than free beer on a Saturday night in Manchester.

It's an odd feeling to have your body fail you. It's hard not to feel disappointed or take it to heart, as though you somehow could have avoided this had you only done x,y, and z back when you were 21 and knocking back the beers as though the future didn't exist.

But it's good that we humans are inventive, that some of us carry the spark of inspiration, because there was a time when that kind of body failure would have spelled death for my child and I.

Strangely the nurse took the lead over the midwife (even though the midwife outranked the nurse) and laid out the plan for the day, if I agreed, they were going to get me an epidural to get me some rest, and push the induction hard while I rested. After nights and days of no sleep and pretty much nothing but pain, I agreed.

First point, don't believe anything about epidurals just feeling like bee stings, you don't feel bee stings scraping along your spine bones, and trying to hold still while something is going into your spine area while still dealing with a back labour contraction and the shakes is really not fun. Really. Once it's in though, the relief is almost instant, you feel your body parts, can still move them even, but you can't feel any pain - kind of like when you're at the dentist and have your mouth numbed for work.

At this point, floating in and out of consciousness ( I really was exhausted), it was as though the nurse, midwife, and a tech (who was from my country) came to embody aspects of goddesses, of Matronae, or at times, even Frija. It's entirely possible that I was a little delirious, but regardless of what the day would bring, I felt safe, like everything would eventually be ok. Hope restored.

At around four in the afternoon though, it became clear that nothing was working for moving this baby, she seemed to be getting distressed, moreover she wasn't responding to stimulation, and so I told them to cut me open.

The surgical team were scrambled pretty quickly, and I found out that oddly, the Dr that would be doing my section, a Dr whose name means 'new world', spent a chunk of her childhood living in Skemersdale (a town bearing an old Norse name 16 miles from where I grew up in England).

I've had some really weird experiences before in life, I've done some pretty crazy things, but to this day, laying on an operating table, trying to keep still because the shaking had gotten so intense it felt like my bones would crack, with my insides out, while an ex-resident of Skemersdale that was named for the land I'd come to live in sliced through whatever she needed to to get to our baby, is probably the most surreal to date.

As it turned out, my pubic bone was too flat for our baby to get past, they hadn't even managed to get the catheter in properly, as it had caught on that bone leaving a partially full bladder that had to be deflated in surgery in order to get the baby out. My dream of natural birth would only ever be that - a dream.

And perhaps all of this sounds like it was terrible - a far cry from that desired birth in which I would have used my womanly powers of birthingness to bring our little one into the world - but it really wasn't. It was actually the most amazing day of my life, and I'll never forget the sight of them lifting my little love over the curtain, or my husband's overjoyed cries that it was a girl, or the surgical staff cooing over how pretty she was even covered in blood and screaming, with her bruised nose from where the contractions had bashed her against my pubic bone. I'll never forget the way she tried to latch onto my cheek, or how I cried in disbelief and wonder at my daughter even as I struggled to breathe, and the relief that she was ok, that we'd made the right decision. I've seen some incredible things in life, but not one of those sights even comes close to the sight of that little girl for the first time.

The next morning, that tech from my country brought me breakfast, with a cup of tea that she'd made using her tea stash, and as I sat drinking my very British tea brought from home by another ex-pat, and eating toast with the very American concord grape jam on it, I couldn't help but be struck by the old world/new world themes at play here.

Two and a half weeks on, sitting here in my living room, with my baby, our hard-gotten child of two worlds, (finally) napping in the bassinet beside me, I can't help but feel amused by it all.

It's good to have a sense of humour.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Stingy Recons

If you read my previous post, you'll know that I have quite a lot to say about the state of Seidr/Shamanism groups online, especially with regards to the mental and physical health of some of the participants/leaders. To some degree, I did cover some of the gripes that some of the less informed have regarding those of us that study, but thinking on it, I did forget one main gripe that has amused me for the past week.

This gripe is twofold and it goes something like this, 'if you read, you don't/can't practice', and then 'reconstructionists are stingy with their sources'.

Now here is my question, why the fuck should we just dole out information that we spend huge chunks of our personal time digging up, to people that obviously see us as being somehow less 'spiritual' than themselves? Why would anyone in their right mind give in to such a blatant sense of self-entitlement? I bet to their minds, we're also 'put there' on this earth to serve as guides to their 'spiritual development' or some other such bullshit like that!

Well newsflash, we're not a public service.

Moreover, even if you do give information, depending on how well it fits with their UPG, you may find yourself getting all manner of crap for daring to come out with it, or being told that that is obviously wrong, and that 'we couldn't know that anyway' (because...you know...UPG).

So with this in mind, I put forth that by 'being stingy' with the information (but only the stuff they want to hear because it supports their fantasies), we are actually protecting them from losing their spiritual edge (because we know that if you read, you can't possibly do anything of a spiritual nature).

For those that want to sully themselves in this way, I propose adherence to a similar model as drug dealers do, i.e, you have what they want but it's 'bad' for them, and they pay you to get it.

Now, I'm off to go find a crowbar to prise that tongue from where it is firmly wedged in my cheek.

For those of you that celebrate Yule, I hope you have a lovely time, because I won't be, I'll be just reading, because that's apparently all people like myself ever do. Trollololololol.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Shaman Sickness, Scholarship, Discernment, and the 'Oh noes, someone I don't know on the internet said I'm not teh realz Seidrworkerz'

I don't often post about more esoteric items on this blog. For the most part, I'm very private when it comes to this stuff and far more comfortable talking about more 'tangible' subjects, at least with strangers, and especially on the internet.

However more recently, I've found myself participating in groups focused on Seidr and Shamanism (even though I don't practice Shamanism in any sense - traditional or Harner-style, of the word). I dunno, I just guess I miss not having people around that I could talk to about this stuff, and bounce ideas off (once an appropriate level of comfort has been reached, of course!). What I've found for the most part, however, has been a complete trainwreck. Seriously, it's no surprise that mainstream Heathen communities generally consider those involved in the more esoteric side of things to be absolutely batshit crazy. This blog post, controversial as it is, is going to look at what I consider some of the most damaging and ridiculous aspects of this type of group.

N.B: While I generally disagree with the use of the word 'shaman/ism' outside of an Evenk context, for ease of reference in this post, I will however use the term.

Shaman Sickness and the Wounded Healer Archetype

Shaman sickness is one thing that I've seen talked about a lot in these groups. I would even hazard a guess that the percentage of sick (either physically or mentally) people in these groups is far higher than in more mainstream groups. However, if this is the case, why could this be? Moreover, in many cases that I've seen, why is it that the same kind of resolution recorded in traditional societies that have forms of 'shamanism', don't also seem to occur in these people? Why is it, that in spite of their alleged 'shamanic' status, these sick stay sick?

Traditional accounts of 'Shaman sickness' tend to speak of it as being a way for the spirits not only to get the attention of the would-be Shaman, but an elder shaman who would then train the shaman. To quote the Circle of Tengerism website (http://www.tengerism.org/becoming_a_shaman.html):

"The near-death experience of the shaman’s sickness is very traumatic. The would-be shaman suffers both mentally and physically. This is how the spirits get the attention of not only the afflicted, but of the local shaman. When the elder shaman is called to help, they would recognize the shaman’s sickness and take the afflicted as a student.

This does not mean that everyone who has a near-death experience is a shaman. It means that some people who have one have the potential to become a shaman. Those with the potential are called butur. Butur means “cocoon” in Mongolian. To grow into a shaman, they must accept the calling and be recognized and trained by an elder shaman."

Similar can be said of the Korean Mudang (shaman), and the shinbyeong (spirit sickness) that they exhibit, with the cure being the naerim-gut (initiation).

In other words, they don't stay sick, the sickness is temporary, as opposed to chronic, serving only as a vehicle for bringing a person to Shamanic practice.

However, in this new age sewage world, rather than being this vehicle to bring someone to the spirits, people seem to delight in the 'Wounded Healer' archetype, completely misunderstanding the original intent behind Jung's archetype. The person doesn't remain sick, the person is not constantly wounded in the sense of continual sickness or being physically affected, instead, to quote Jung's colleague, Kerenyi, the Wounded Healer refers psychologically to the ability “to be at home in the darkness of suffering and there to find germs of light and recovery with which, as though by enchantment, to bring forth Asclepius, the sunlike healer.” In other words, those that have not already suffered, cannot heal as they cannot understand suffering. It doesn't mean that the person still suffers personally (except perhaps through memories and striving to help others). It is not some kind of beacon for sick people to gather round.

Moreover, physical feats have been recorded of Shamans in various cultures, especially during trance. There is also an inherent danger recognised in traditional forms of shamanism, be that the exposure to danger of attack from other shamans or spirits, or death from some of the entheogens used. This suggests to me that the Shaman in these societies needs to be physically, as well as spiritually healthy and strong. Aside from issues of race and culture, I would posit that many apparent Western shamans wouldn't be considered as colleagues by shamans from traditional groups, simply on the basis of physical and mental health.

In my view, this also is bourn out from a Heathen perspective in that a person who is unhael physically cannot be hael spiritually. It's haelu across the board - but I'll get into more detail on that in the section on discernment.


Another trend I've seen in these groups has been a disdain for any kind of scholarship with regards to Seidr or shamanism. Obviously, one cannot practice Seidr and Scholarship, they're apparently not inclusive of each other...

Oh yeah, says who?

I see the charge that we can't possibly know what the Seidrworkers of old ever did, that we have no information about Seidr, and that no one ever asked a Seidrworker. This is one of best cop outs EVAR.

Because as we all know, NO ONE has ever relearned an ancient skill based on the descriptions or paintings produced by non-practitioners. The Danish archer Lars Anderson of course never learned how to fire arrows at a speed that modern master archers previously thought impossible, through looking at old sources and experimenting:

Go Legolas, go!

No, it's far better to go off UPG and the work of some white guy that basically ripped off a load of different shamanisms based in different cultures, and then plugged them into a framework provided by early 20th century scholarship by people like that Romanian fascist Eliade.

And of course, in order to sell more courses and books, you need to make it as inclusive as possible, right? Can't tell entitled rich Westerners that they can't be part of something that looks cool because of reasons like culture, and such like.

Once again, to turn to the Circle of Tengerism site (something which was founded to try and educate and preserve the native traditions of Mongolian Shamanism):

"One should also note that shamanism cannot be separated from the culture that it serves. It is interwoven into every aspect of the life and world view of the people. To take it out of its cultural context robs it of its power and meaning."

And perhaps more ironically:

"If anyone claims they can make you a shaman in one weekend for a fee, you should think twice. If you were to walk into a martial arts equipment store and buy a black belt, this would not make you a black belt. There are no quick fixes. Beware of spiritual consumerism."

I would argue that recovering the practice of Seidr needs to be a threefold process that involves experimentation, UPG, and yes...study as well.


Another curse of these boards seems to be the lack of discernment. Indeed, I would consider discernment to be a key skill for those involved in any occult activity - a skill that's as important as protection. And yet, it doesn't really seem to get much talk time.

There are so many angles to this topic too, it's really huge, and covers everything from discernment in more esoteric work (e.g questions like 'What does this entity project itself as vs what is it really?', or 'what is really going on here, is another practitioner pulling the wool over my eyes in order to make a claim?'), to discernment in the people you work with (e.g their motivations, their actual abilities, their knowledge basis, and their intentions).

In other words, discernment is one of the most basic and important skills we can learn to protect ourselves - yet we often overlook it for things like a sense of belonging in a group.

Scholarship can also be very useful when it comes to discernment in a more esoteric sense. For example, your UPG says that the Morrigan is a kindly old grandmother that rides on a unicorn, but all the lore on the Morrigan says she's a battle goddess. Chances are, in cases like this, you're deluding yourself. You're not discerning between your own personal fantasies and genuine spiritual experience. This doesn't mean you're a terrible person, just your monkey brain got away on you and you need to work harder on more basic skills designed to harness the monkey brain.

You know, as opposed to having a temper tantrum that nothing is how you want it to be, and then blaming the 'inaccuracies' on 'those damn Christians'...again.

Other types of esoteric discernment are harder, and not really something that can be rendered in text. This is really where having a teacher of some kind would come in handy, and this leads us to perhaps the most important type of discernment of all - the discernment of people.

People involved in esoteric practices are often possessed of complex motivations, some of them are good, some not so good. For example, the 'teacher' of a friend basically used 'teaching Paganism' as an excuse for having sex at lots of different burial sites. These stories of people being taken advantage of are ten a-penny too. When it comes to people that you may end up working with on as intimate a level as esoteric work often demands, the need for discernment grows one hundred-fold. So, how can you tell the real 'teachers' from the fakes?

Here are my main questions when it comes to discerning people that would be good teachers:

* How are their lives? Messy? Productive? Is there growth in their lives or only decay? Are they healthy and robust, or are they constantly sick? Are they always having to 'fight spirits' or claiming to have been cursed over the most minor slights (real or imagined)? Generally speaking, good teachers have their lives in order, they're hael. Never follow an unhael teacher under the misguided belief that they are some kind of wounded healer, as we've already said, the wound doesn't continue, it's more of a reference point for helping to heal and build.

*How do they deal with disagreement? Do they cast the person they disagreed with out, or do they take the disagreement and respectfully continue to disagree? The reaction a person has to disagreements gives you a good clue to the egos involved, and whether or not they need validation from others to feel good. This need for validation and to be considered a great _____insert title here_____, may also point to a narcissistic personality. Pro-tip: These are to be avoided at all costs, because they often turn out to be worst abusers.

* How often do they employ 'Checksums' in their work? Be those Checksums from historical sources, or in terms of follow up/questioning of witnesses to different events. This can also go for a tendency to blame all things on spiritual causes and a lack of acceptance that 'shit happens', or even any kind of rational explanation.

*Have they ever claimed to speak for a god in order to tell people what to do (especially if what the 'god' is telling you to do is suspiciously what they themselves have tried to tell you)? If so, run like hell.

"Oh noes, someone I don't know on the internet said I'm not teh realz Seidrworkerz

Finally we come to the final thing I've seen on these groups - that of trying to discredit the abilities of those you disagree with. Of course, when ego is attacked, it's an easy fix - as good as claiming those you disagree with are really sekrit Christians in more mainstream Heathen groups.

And really, it's pathetic, it screams a level of butthurt and injured ego on the part of the accuser, that one almost has to feel sorry for. I mean, if your ego is so delicate that you need to try and remove a person completely from the equation because you can't deal with them being around, then you have issues. Moreover, what the hell is this need to be validated by strangers on the internet that have nothing to do with anything concrete in your life? It's ridiculous. If they don't contribute to your house, or your life (and you theirs), then why the hell should you care?

Really, why do they matter?

Simple answer: They shouldn't.

This rant from a random nameless person on the internet that you really probably shouldn't listen to was brought to you by the letters 'K' and 'X', and the numbers '3' and '9'.

Toodle pip!