Archive for August, 2013

Hair and History

Posted in About me on August 31, 2013 by Tyrienne

Bartek Borowiec- Polish Model, stolen from Tumblr

Hair is like history… and for several years, since I was a teenager, I kept it short in a variety of ways- spiked, longer in front, shaved in back, colored, striped, spotted, dyed and expensive. Since I was not allowed to choose the style as a child, my hair became  changeable and chatoic in what was then a stagnant life from my vantage point now.

The moment I began to grow out my hair was in Canada, I was in front of a mirror with my ex-fiancee beside me- he said, “Grow it out, see what happens.  I like it natural, I like you natural.”  It was likely one of the kindest things ever said to me up until this point- and I noticed, that since I began to grow out my hair from that point in time- that is when my current history begins.  Before then, was a rushed amalgam of dissonance and mind-numbing achievements.  Running from life to life, from place to place, and yearly, to up my income, job to job.  Each new thing to take me further away from myself; when in actuality, I was not so bad- but my life certainly was.

My life in Canada was not great, nor was my life for a while afterwards.  But that is when I would like my history to begin.  From that moment.  My hair keeping record.  When I see Loki- his hair is always long- much like the model to the left- but oftentimes, his hair is pulled back.   When I met my husband, he too, had longer hair (and is growing it back slowly- he cut it just before our first date to my dismay).

When I was a young woman I was in love with a boy who had a fetish for long hair; perhaps I kept it short to spite him.  Sometimes, I think I kept it short to symbolically keep my memory short.  Something I have no trouble with these days, with my memory ebbing like tides- most things drifting from my mind like sand swept away by oceans- with only the heaviest and the lightest things to remain at all.

Last night, I thought to write this post and I didn’t.   I was brushing my hair- I perfumed it with musk oil I had brought back from Spain- and I thought about how many lovers have touched my hair since Canada- the memory in the strands against foreign pillows- and the one I loved who I am satisfied will never get the privilege.   My hair is dark now, naturally.  I used to dye it in college as a Persian studies student so people would not question my course of study…and indeed, my husband assumed I was at least part Persian when he met me.   Before, it was bleached blonde- with pink, short and I grew it out, and dyed it close to a natural shade as I could of dirty blonde.  I get it trimmed, and I know the hair I have now was not the hair I had in Canada, but it is the hair I had when I came back….from which point, I do not know.

I remember all the people I asked to help me forget about things, if only for an evening- my friend Adrien, and others whose names escape me who would weave their fingers through my hair to comfort or to kiss me.  The people who tried- and like some sort of strange antennae, would repulse me at the slightest glance of their finger near my personal space.  My hair defined my boundaries, who I would allow in, and who I would not.

I realize that to most people, as open as I am, my entire life up until my engagement is a series of secrets- nothing major- but brief moments that only I am witness to all of them.  Only me.   All strangers passing in the night never to know the names of one another- not many, but enough.   From Landsdale to Boston I was single.  Since Canada, I was in a relationship for a year I forgot behind marijuana and over achievement- then stopped.

I quit the relationship, and moved forward with life. With people, with friends and acquaintances, and lovers…. Also, with stalkers and those who would dismiss me and defame me…if only I had any fame to take away,

A moment in a bar here, why Kant caused the Holocaust;  another online talking about the tree of our shared childhood in the forgotten grounds of the tree-bare ex-schoolyard where we once played…and later, another time we played again as teenagers before I left for Oklahoma.

It seems too long ago to be me, but it was and still is.

Some cultures measure time by their hair, others kept snippets of their beloved’s hair in books- their family, children, and other loves saved like photographs in secret, macabre albums for no one else’s eyes- only to be found after their passing.

Some use hair in ritual- a lock of my childhood hair was found by my father once, bound with a black ribbon and nailed inside of a dollhouse.   My father was horrified and removed it as soon as he noticed it- and together with his woman of the moment- we burned that dollhouse and everything in it in a brush pile in his swamp of a back yard.  My life began to improve then….even before Canada.

If Canada was the awakening, then perhaps the burning of the dollhouse was the stirrings of wakefulness before morning.  Daylight did not come gently, and oftentimes, it was harsh and neverending.  Droning almost, a string of expresso and energy drinks, stimulants and essays.  Documents, papers, dissertations, and love letters, unending love letters that were written day after day, month after month.  Sometimes longer than the essays required for classes.

And I would wear my hair long, cover one eye with it’s cascade like water and look up past my glasses at the nervous man behind the pedestal.  Knowing, wisely, he did not know what he was talking about and he knew that I knew it as well.

I was removed from that class; but responsible for the work in it.  The daylight of life was hidden in the drywall and concrete of my bunker-like bedroom in which I hid myself of my drunk and stoned roommate…. but it was also so bright as to be harsh.  My eyes unused to the glare of noonday sun as I drove, sunwise, towards the ancient buildings of my school.

My hair drank in the rays of Spain, of Morocco, and of Bethlehem.  It has seen the Pagoda and the Palace de’ Alhambra- bound tight against the heat-sweat, as if rain soaked.  My scarf around my neck although it was far too warm for scarves.

And here I am today, a married woman, the history is here and it has brought me here- to peace and to relief, to silence instead of screaming, and warm truth instead of saccharine lies.

No one else will touch my hair- but my stylist, no one else has the privilege in this world except my husband or the closest of friends…of which I keep surprisingly few and see rarely enough.

…and to my God, Loki who may brush it away from my eyes as often as He pleases- to remind me to look at Him instead of away in needless shame.

Tyr does not touch, Cernunnos never sees me as human…only Loki will sit close enough to touch me in the other realms where I am still myself.

…and only Edward, here, on Midgard will have it on his pillow alone with his own for the rest of my life.

🙂

Hail Loki.

Unholy Scapegoats and Sacred Martyrs. Posting in Delerium.

Posted in On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 25, 2013 by Tyrienne

My gods  I have been utterly irresponsible towards myself the last 24 hours and I know it.  I itch, horrendously- all over, a long forgotten side effect of a medication I requested to help “cure” me of bronchitis.  The medication is a cough syrup containing Vicodan, a drug I have been well acquainted with for several years as it was used to treat my pain prior to my hysterectomy.

However irrelevant this may seem, I also know that it is also a consequence of me getting dangerously close to breaking an Oath I made to Tyr almost a year ago regarding Loki. That I would figure out a way to improve His name and reputation in the community, do or die.  I would figure it out, why, these two Gods out of several pantheons had decided to involve themselves in my life personally…and I have slacked off, not posting things and insights I have received in favor of doing other things.  Not because I do not love my Gods, but because occasionally, I just want out of the entirety of the community, to be honest.

In the last year, several changes have occurred overall, some worse, some for the better.  The Troth is now openly accepting of Lokeans, there are Lokean communities, support, and a networks all over the web that did not exist a year ago.  I have met several wonderful people, I have been blessed enough to be treated with deference I am not quite certain I have earned- and scorn I know for a fact I know I did not earn. However, a punch line needs to come out of somewhere and I have been meandering around it for months.

I know one other person off the top of my head who works with both Loki and Tyr extensively, Thor Sheil, and even he does not limit his conversations to those two Gods exclusively.  However, constantly, the two come up- oftentimes in the same conversations.

My husband is of the belief that our Gods represent more of a sacred archetype sort of structure; metaphors and thought forms created by human existence that gain power through cumulative centuries of belief.  I disagree with him, personally, and have a much more C.S. Lewis look on cosmology where everything that has ever been thought of exists and breathes with life.  That the act of creation itself is sacred- whether it be in parenting or in writing, and like Narnia- Gods of air, fire, sky, and water coexist and rule under some great universal consciousness.  I believe that all the time there has ever been has already been written; however, I also believe in extensive and perpetual editing as well.

Why am I itching?  I took too much damned vicodan. I am not blaming the illness, it was irresponsible- and instead of dealing with discomfort, I decided to double up on my dose last night hoping to sleep only to awaken itching first thing in the morning like a motherfucker.

So, back to the story line here.  There are two Gods, one is a scapegoat and one is a martyr.  I cannot accurately say they are “My” Gods, so much as I am one of “Their” people.  Which blows my mind and keeps me humbled that no matter what happens with my Earthly family here, I have Gods who specifically teach me and care for me- as well as other Gods as well.  I owe a debt of gratitude to Freyr, Inanna, Odin, Bast, Hanuman, and Ganesha as well- and likely countless others.

I am delirious at the moment with fever….but I need to get this point across:  A scapegoat is the same thing as a martyr- the only difference is the martyr willingly and consciously makes the decision to put themselves in harm’s way for the highest good.  The scapegoat, the “Highest good” places blame on to keep general unity and consensus among the community- for nothing forms tighter bonds than a hatred towards a common enemy.

Problem: Loki is no one’s enemy.  Loki’s crime is admitting he is imperfect, that he makes mistakes, he atones for them, he sacrifices, he creates anew, solves problems and through Him the vast majority of the symbols that represent our faith are directly through his work.  Every person who wears a Thor’s hammer, to Loki should be double grateful.   For it was Loki who commissioned it’s creation, as well as through Loki it was returned when it was stolen.  Odin’s horse, Sleipnir, is Loki’s son- to whom he is Mother….Odin’s Raven’s- are a gift from Loki’s daughter, Hel. Through Hel, Bragi survives Ragnorak to take charge of the new pantheon.  Freyr’s ship, Odin’s armband, Idunna’s sanity- Loki, Loki, Loki, again.

Then, when he isn’t invited to the feast of the Gods, he is rightly incensed. He flytes. He points out their flaws, and is condemned,  tied to a rock according to some accounts, as his sons are slayed before him.  Loki watched as his one wife was burned before him, not once, but three times as his other children were condemned as “monsters” as accounted by the Norn’s- who’s advice created nothing more than self-fulfilling prophecies that were listened to by the younger Gods.

Loki son of Jotuns, son of Farbouti, God of Lightning and illness as well as Laufey, the Goddess of needles or trees depending on how you look at it. Literally- Loki’s creation was the fire of lightning upon leaves.  He was born fire.

Which leads me to Edward’s post about Norse genealogy here.

Through the perversions of Marvel comics and Christianity we have created a false dichotomy that Aesir= good and Jotuns=bad.

Now, here is the second half of the story:

Tyr, older than all the other Gods combined, records predating most of the traditional stories- the God of Sky, war, and justice. The one handed one, the martyr God.  Also, son of giants, one frost, one fire who was disowned by his own family when He decided to throw in his lot with the Aesir.  Why?  Because the Aesir needed an incorruptible judge, an elder, and one to guide them to show them the meaning of justice.  Tyr is the greatest of all fighters, the most terrifying of all the Aesir from personal accounts.

If Loki’s truth is the difficult truth that needs speaking, then Tyr is master of the sacrifice- (Other than Kvasir), Tyr has had to give up/leave behind what has meant the most to Him to do “The right thing.”.  Tyr is never villinized, because Tyr is seen as perfect in his imperfection.  He could grow back his hand, but He understands that would make the sacrifice of it meaningless.  The loss of His hand is a constant reminder of the costs of breaking oaths to both humans and Gods alike.  Tyr suffers/ed to show the “right” thing is not the “easy” way to do things….and He has lost it all because of it.  His family, His hand, and eventually, his Life.

Tyr is the judge, the martyr, the one who fixes.  He is the wise old man who grieves the injustice of the universe alone on His mighty shoulders.  He looks at all consequences and leads by example.  If you break an oath, prepare to lose what is dear to you.  Unlike Christianity, we are free to judge who we may and may not allow in our lives.  However, there are consequences.   And He who seems to be friend of everyone has no friends at all.  Tyr has no family, he was disowned, and yet, he pays the price for the dishonor of the family to which He adopted, in the end, losing his life as a payment for all oaths broken- so that a new dawn may arise in Baldr- in peace, and Vanic prosperity.   To lose the Aesir to the Vanir is to go from the Ego of man back to the realization that we are part of all nature. Just as the Jotuns once were.  Tyr was the stop-gap- Tyr, the self-hating, Tyr the teacher of those to whom no one else would teach- he who taught Hel at His mighty feet and befriended Fenrir.  The one who kept the “old ways” alive as the “new religion” took over.

Loki, is seen as the fuck up, but fixed far more than he ever disrupted., he is “Liar” who never lies, the “oathbreaker” who broke no oaths, and a foil to Tyr in some strange way.  Loki points out the Aesir’s corruption, and is bound, He who takes chances and occasionally loses and then pays back threefold.

The problem with Loki is NOT that he is Jotun, it is that he is too human-  To understand Loki is understand we are all fallible.  That our best intentions and our best jokes can turn sour, and that no matter how much we pay to make amends. It’s easier to hate and fear than it is to accept that our Gods, like us, are imperfect and they know it….and like humans, they do not like to be reminded of their shortcomings either.

So, I agree with Edward to a point- our PERCEPTION of the gods is archetypal…but the reality it far from what we can begin to comprehend.   Like it or not, Loki is Thor’s primary traveling companion.  Like it or not, Loki is Odin’s blood brother- and each horn, stein or cup raised to Odin is also raised to Him as well, like it or not.

Loki is the cleverness we secretly covet, but do not possess ourselves.
Tyr is the God we look up to with the greatest respect- but never speak to for fear of what He may say.

It is been evident that those close to Loki in the human realm are often maligned, but I am happy to report it seems to become an increasingly rarer phenomenon; as we evolve as a community we realize we do not need to hide all of our mistakes along the way, that the clever man is not the same as dishonorable one.

But I can tell you this, for all the shit that I have been through in my life, it was not through Loki’s intercession that I experienced it. It was Tyr.  This is not blame…this is truth….and it was MY choice to follow this pathway. I was not forced to by any means- I was ASKED to, and I accepted this and all it entailed.

To be Tyrian is to be the one to say “You are wrong” when it could cost a friendship. It is to sacrifice to keep the greater whole healthy rather than to “Keep calm and carry on”. It is to correct injustice when given any opportunity to, regardless of who originally caused it initially.

Loki is kind, Loki is caring, Loki is the protector of the lost children, the comfort to the outcast and the clever.    Tyr is no comfort, but action.  Tyr is standing your ground, the life of Tyr is not one of polite lies- but of polite silence until the silence becomes injustice….then Tyr is the voice to cry “foul”….Tyr is the stop-gap that reminds us of our roots when we are rootless.  Tyr is also the one whose existence itself disproves many of the kennings against Loki since He, too, is a son of Jotuns and a God of fire.

Many people venerate Tyr, call themselves Tyrspersons, and then hide and lie constantly falsely believing that justice is the equivalent to “getting what one wants”.  Many call themselves Lokian but do not possess the cleverness nor the generosity to be truly His.

You don’t get to pick your God’s at the local God*Mart.   They pick you.

Some people call me self centered.  That’s fine…because outside of the Gods, I am the person who I interact with the most on a daily basis…but what you don’t see is the hours I spend on the phone or on facebook comforting strangers and friends…you don’t see how often I am a nexus that connects people to other people, nor do you see me as anything more than a girl who complains all the time about my health or my past.

However, I can say that in being open about my own troubles, in putting out my imperfections, I have been told countless times that I have helped others.  My metaphorical “missing hand” has comforted many people.  I might make some of you squeamish by talking about my trips to the psyche ward- but to someone else, I just gave them the courage to seek help they desperately needed.

If what I write does not apply to you, than perhaps what I have to teach does not apply to you…I can show you my life through this blog, and I can share my mistakes to help others from making the same ones.

Lesson of the day:  Do not underestimate the power of Tussionex- follow the dosage on the bottle or in the morning you will look like you came out the loser in a fight against a dumpster full of rabid ally cats.

This delerium was brought to you by Bronchitis, Tyr, and Loki.

Attunement

Posted in About me, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , on August 14, 2013 by Tyrienne

Laura began the attunement, and I was to call in my guides.  AA036979

I closed my eyes, my feet on the floor and I grounded myself to the Earth, entering into a trance-state.  There He stood, that same red hair and black coat- those green-beyond green eyes… and He took me into His arms and asked me not to be afraid “Hey, you are really going to like this!”  He reassured me.  Before the experience went further, I asked him about the whole God-spouse thing everyone had been talking about-  and he simply laughed and teased me gently. “What, is one man not enough for you?!”  I knew from his tone he knew I wanted nothing of the sort from Him.  He then indicated, with His arms around me “It happens: Now.”

Black fog like smoke filled my vision completely blanking out the vision entirely until all I saw was solid blackness….then from that blackness, I saw a fire- blue, violet…then all colors- and as the fire grew it consumed the darkness until it seemed I was looking at a cloudless blue sky on the brightest summer day imaginable.

Another voice came to me, and a memory:  “Do you remember, Ren, that every yoga class you were told to dedicate your practice to someone other than yourself?  Do you remember who you dedicated it to?”

I assented, Yes, I remembered.  A former friend of my husbands who no matter what I did, it was always wrong…and I blamed myself for the deterioration of their friendship still.

“There is nothing to blame you for, Ren…. you Gave all you could- and he wanted more.  This is energy work, you did no wrong; in fact you did RIGHT.”

…and I felt at peace, like something inside of me released.  Earlier in the day, I was in class and we were looking up the meanings of animals- and a fly was landing on me-  Fly meant, according to the book my friend Wray possessed that I was holding onto past issues that needed to be released.  I am still upset over my cat (after everything in my life, I get upset about a cat and a somebody who was a jerk to me once….typical.)

But I never realized I was holding onto that particular issue still.  The other meditation, we were to meet our guides…. before us was a pine forest with ancient trees thick as sequoias. Barefoot, I walked a path cushioned by pine needles, leaves and moss-  I could hear a familiar chuffing noise from the branches to my side….and from the left side came my giant Red elk…his muscles clearly define as he touched his forehead to my own and allowed me to reach my fingers into his thick fur- he walked beside me a while…until we were interrupted as we sat in a green meadow.  A crow landed on his antlers and called to me.. “We’ll wait”, they indicated.  When we resumed- I was taken back through the woods- It looked like the same path but it ended up at an entirely different place than where I began.  I plateau-  or rather, an old cliff I used to sit upon overlooking a river near where I used to live in Easton.  On this, there was a seat for me- beside me the Elk gracefully layed and the crow perched on my shoulders to play with my earrings.

Before me was every student I had every taught, people I had yet to teach- and the weight of responsibility…. I felt confused and distressed.  Who am I to teach anyone?  I’m a nut job on SSD;  Who wants to read what I write?  Why do I have to write a book?  Why are people asking me for advice?

I was confused because on one hand, ego is bad for the soul- on the other, how can one be trusted with so many people?  There are plenty of people who hate me, sure- but I don’t usually care enough to notice.  But what about the people who respect me?  Am I doing enough?  Am I guiding them correctly?  Where do I have any authority whatsoever to be anything at all?

On this seat, I felt older, with the power and responsibility of a queen on a throne- each person who had guided me for good or for ill along the way, a piece of the throne itself- placed their by their own hands- making me who I am, who I was, and who I am going to be.  Reminding me I am never alone, I can only do what I feel is best with what resources I have available to me at any given time.

….and that is, apparently, enough.

Aaaaand….that was it.  I was brought out and I was attuned for Reiki II, over a decade after my last teacher passed away only a month after she told me and her daughter that she was “Given the choice to stay here or to leave, but she chose to stay for her children.”

Then I remembered, sometimes, things only look like choices.  Things are what they are.  She passed away in a house fire- and only her eldest daughter escaped.

You can listen to me, but you do not have to follow me- and I would never ask anyone to do so.

You can ask my advice, but you are never beholden to take it if you choose otherwise.

I can teach you what I know, but only if you understand that not even the Norse know everything….and I know even less.

I will not force you into anything unless you put me into a situation where I would violate any Oath I have made, then I will do what is necessary to keep my honor intact.

I am not beholden to be anyone’s friend, nor am I beholden to be any person’s enemy.  You can love me or hate me- that does not mean you are entitled to my energy in return if I do not wish it.

…and overall, I will do what I feel is right, what I feel will lead me to happiness.  I have no other goals other than to live to be free to pursue my happiness, secure the happiness of my spouse, and to live honorably, personally, regardless of however many rumours or lies may fly around regarding me.

I am me.  That is enough…because that is all I have to give to the world.

I cannot be more or less than who I am at this moment to anyone.

Norse Genealogy

Posted in About me on August 7, 2013 by Tyrienne

This is my husband- and the post he created that hurt the poor little butts of many a born again Heathen. Dear readers, this is my other half- and he has written some wondrously informative things in here I have never before considered.

Hail The Jotunr!

The Road to Hel

ImageI recently changed my name on Facebook to Edward Jotunborn ( feel free to hit me up). I had several reasons including not wanting to be found by some people but I soon realized that despite telling people I am done caring hat they think they continue to bring their hurt butts to me. But the good news is that having these discussions has deepened my knowledge of my ancestors as well as my beliefs. What I decided to do is create a list of the main Gods and Goddesses of the heathen pantheon and take a look at their genealogy. I am only picking this specific pantheon as it is where the most crying has come from.

  • Odin 100% Jotun: I may as well start at the top here. Odin’s father was Bor and his mother was Bestla. In the lore Bestla is directly called a jotun, Bor is…

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Good Night, Sweet Hela-kitty. Welcome home Vladimir….

Posted in About me, On the Gods with tags , , , , on August 6, 2013 by Tyrienne
Our kitten, Hela, on brighter days.

Our kitten, Hela, on brighter days.

The worst is each night after we turn out the lights for bed.

Customarily, one of our two sister cats, Hela, would climb up on top of our comforters and wish us both goodnight with pets and purrs before she would settle and Ed and I would fall to sleep.  In the morning, Freyja would wake us up much the same way.

But now, such is not the case.  We had been pulling Ear, the Rune of the Grave for several weeks- indicating “steady decline”-  We kept wondering if perhaps a family member was going to pass before our wedding and Edward and I were both concerned.  Thankfully, our wedding was joyous, and everyone who was meant to be there, made it with no trouble whatsoever.

However, last Thursday night, we awoke to the sounds of Hela throwing up-  She’s a long haired Maine Coon- however, what was unusual is that she was usually so polite about it that she would run to the litter box when necessary.  She cleaned up after herself before we had a chance.

The next morning, Ed found cat urine on the kitchen floor.  Hela was listless, the fur around her lips wet with vomit, and she was obviously ill.   We made the soonest appointment with the veterinarian we could- for the next morning at nine AM.

As Edward was at work, he became increasingly concerned, and he contacted me to take her to the emergency vet and cancel the morning appointment.  During the day, she had some water, but it came up with bile.  She would only move to avoid her sister; Freyja would find her, sniff at her once, and run away.    Hela was curled under my wedding dress, huddled in misery and lace when I found her to put her into the carrier.  Her claws, deep into the carpet as she resisted me picking her up- but yet a total lack of resistance as I put her in the carrier.  Ed’s dad picked us up immediately around 8pm and then, I heard her “Meow” only once the entire trip.  Her weight heavy on my lap as my anxiety grew.

We made it to the vet- we were ushered into a room immediately.  They took her vitals and said they were “fine”- but they concurred she was obviously ill.  They said she was dehydrated.  They left no water or litter in the room for her- but she didn’t seem to mind.   After an hour, I saw the doctor, who said basically, she had no ideas as to what was wrong, but they would write up a treatment plan.

Hours passed….Hela became less responsive and huddled in on herself.  It was now 10:30pm.  We had been in the office for over 2 hours and they wouldn’t even give her an IV without the “estimate” first.  The estimate was well over $3000.00 US; including unnecessary tests, scans, x-rays, and etc.  I worked at a wildlife refuge, when I take in an animal for emergency care, I expect emergency care.  I expected an IV with saline, I expected a pill to sooth her, I expected a litter box placed in the room so that the results from the IV fluid could be seen in her stool or urine.  Instead, I was faced with heartless numbers, no attempts at diagnosis, and a cat who was quickly going from being “sick” to becoming unresponsive entirely.

Edward was on his way- He was Hela’s favorite person, and I couldn’t make the decision myself.  I crossed off most of the items listed on the quote and demanded they rewrite it- they wished for a 2 day hospitalization….that’s fine.  She does not need an FIV test, nor does she need an x-ray, a cat scan, nor any of the more advanced testing until the basics were covered first.  Edward arrived, his father left….

…and it was at this point Ed confessed to me he didn’t expect her to have lasted this long.  He felt from the morning onward she was going to leave us, one way or another.

Soon after Edward arrived- the only moment of clarity  from Hela-kitty came when I prayed to Bast for help…I tried to pray to Freyja, but the only image I could perceive in my head was Freyja enraged in her chariot of war, frightening to behold….and I do not know who it was with whom she was so angry, but I hoped it was not me.

Behind me, I felt I gentle presence, and to my left- an empty chair then contained an almost transparent visage of what looked like a cross between a petite young woman and a gray cat.  Her hair was black, cut perfectly straight and just touched her shoulders.  Hela perked up, walked calmly over to the chair- put both paws upon the seat, then jumped slowly onto that chair itself for a few minutes….then, she crawled off- drug herself across the floor to the corner and became unresponsive entirely, except for the occasional seizure.

I called for a tech, the tech walked in for 2 minutes, declared “I don’t see her seizing” and left.  The seizures came and left sporadically.  Ed and I began to cry- she wouldn’t respond to touch, to sound, and even though her eyes were slightly open, she did not flinch if I suddenly put my hand before her face.

Yes, we honor the Norse Gods- but we have altars to others in our home as well-  Bast has her own space for Eddie- and I have a space for Anubis.

We decided to let Hela go.

The doctor indicated her disapproval of the decision- but it seemed like all the spirit of our bright, beautiful kitten was already gone.  She was only 13 months old….and all that remained was a breathing shell of a cat, huddled comatose in the corner of the room.  Still untreated for what had been several hours….and the seizures and unresponsiveness after the visit from Bast were enough for us.

The vet took her to put in the IV- and told us to wait on “another payment quote”.  We waited another hour, with us both in tears- confused, upset, afraid- and all other emotions- until I had had enough.   I flung open the door and announced to the front desk, “I want to Euthanize my suffering cat- I don’t want her cremated, I want to pay my bill, and I want to take her and my husband home.  Immediately.”

At which point, things started to move.  The vet and the tech looked at us reproachfully as they brought her in wrapped in towels, her eyes were closed as Ed and I held her.  I kissed the fur between her ears repeatedly, and she did not respond or even look at either of us…. but yet, she was still alive, still breathing.  With the first shot, a low rumbling cross between a purr and a growl escaped- and with the rest, we felt nothing change at all.  She didn’t grow heavier in our arms- she didn’t look into our eyes.  If she had looked up at us, if she had responded to anything, we would have stopped.  Instead, we let her go.

They gave us her wrapped in paper in a cardboard casket and a “Souvenir pawprint” for the $200 spent on nothing more than spending hours watching our cat deteriorate until we had no other rational choice.

I was angry at the vet- it was a scam, she wasn’t ever going to get better- not after the seizures and the non-responsiveness, but I felt if she had indeed received “emergency treatment” she might have.  With an IV, she might have perked up, with some pills to clean out her system, maybe, we would still have her.

Hela as a kitten with Eddie.... she did this often.

Hela as a kitten with Eddie…. she did this often.

She always loved swimming in our bathtub or joining Eddie in on his evening baths after coming home from the factory- so we took her to our special lake where we hold ritual around 12:30 AM.   It was apparently a cruise spot where we got to see an old man masturbate in front of another car, headlights shining.  I ignored it…opened the trunk, and took out our cat’s coffin….slowly, carefully, I made it down to the lake, onto a stone pier and I opened the box; I lifted her gently out and threw her as far out as I could and watched her sink beneath the white paper that contained her.  Angrily, I threw both sides of her cardboard coffin opposite directions and returned to the car to my terrified husband who had apparently received several advances by the others in parked cars nearby.

On the night we let Hela go, I lit all the candles on both altars to Anubis and Bast in her honor as well as incense. Part of being polytheistic is knowing that there is more out there than we can possibly understand….and tonight, we were comforted by Bast and owed Her our gratitude for Her kindness….and our prayers to Anubis for a safe journey.

The next day was supposed to be full of activity, some of our closest friends were moving to New York and needed help… our favorite Braucher, Robert Schreiwer was holding his annual Freyfaxi celebration, and later that evening, my grandparents had invited us to dinner.

Despite being a Helsman, the death hit Edward much harder than it hit me (and it hit me hard!)  But, I am a person of crisis, all Lokeans are.  So, I numbed myself and I walked myself through the day.  I drove half an hour to meet my friends who were moving, who simply gave me the key to the house they were leaving and invited us to take their air conditioner and extra kitchen supplies at our leisure.  Ed called Rob, and I allowed Ed the time alone at home to grieve with Freyja who heartbreakingly searched the house for her departed sister.

As I was driving, I recalled from a few years back when one of my cats ran away- her name was Isis, a smallish tuxedo cat my ex and I picked out from the humane society with a respiratory infection the same time we picked up another Calico Torbi we called Eris.   When Isis ran away, my relationship with my boyfriend collapsed (as it did often) as he blamed me for her loss-  we saw her around the property for a few days, but she would not come near us…and he resorted to insane measures to attempt to draw her home- including a live trap which only succeeded in trapping hungry wild kittens and the occasional skunk.
In the meantime, Eris began to DESTROY the house out of frustration and loneliness….Eris had never been alone as a cat, and took out her aggression on us, our furniture, and anything else she could mangle.  I spent time on the Humane Society website and found a lovely cat named Abigail who was around her age- and basically forced my ex to meet her….at which point, he adopted her and when our relationship collapsed for the final time and I dumped him after years of non-compatibility, I asked him to keep them both; who are now both fat and happy with him and his new life.

As the day progressed, and after talking to a veterinary trained friend, we realized Hela had been subtly declining for weeks.  She had no sense of balance, she often ran headfirst into walls,  and suddenly over the course of a two week period, went from Queen of the household to giving her rein and deference to Freyja.   Their smaller brother of the litter was clearly brain damaged… and it did not occur to us that Hela might have had a genetic defect she had been hiding all this time.  Apparently, neurological disorders are very common in wild Maine Coon populations.

As I drove back, I pulled my car over and I called the Humane Society, I told them our story, I asked them for their advice- and they indicated to me that it is better to make large changes all at once rather than drag them out.  I told them I felt a day where our home could house a cat and does not is another day another cat is stuck in a cage or could be needlessly euthanized. Coincidentally, it was also “free cat and kitten day”, and they encouraged Eddie and I to visit them seeing as the adoption fees were waived.

Ed was not well at all- still in bed, undressed and distracting himself with the computer.  Freyja would not come near me.  But I took him with me to the Humane society.   There, in the corner was a gentleman-cat who looked at us proudly- his name tag said “Vladimir”- he was a year old- the same age as our cats…but instead of being small and bobcat-like, he was lean and long, with delicate legs and handsome short hair.   We looked at the kittens vying for the attention of everyone in the other cages…but only Vlad had his eyes on us.   We were told he was in prison since early June and when brought into the room, he began to kiss Eddie on his arms as soon as he was held.  I picked him up as well and he did likewise, so I removed the carrier from the car and we brought him home….learning from one woman at the front desk we had been the only couple to look at him since he arrived.

We saw that the cats were not fighting one another, and we made it through dinner with my grandparents, from whom I had been estranged for over a year.  Hoping I could start to mend the rift between us…but afraid to talk about why it started in the first place: my disability.  We managed a pleasant evening…Eddie was his charming self, and we both got hugs on our way out.

They seem to be adjusting well to one another.  The ginger is Eddie.  The cat is Vladimir.

They seem to be adjusting well to one another. The ginger is Eddie. The cat is Vladimir.

The Humane Society called Vlad a “Stray” who was brought in with no information- but we put a collar on him and he seemed almost as proud as Freyja was with hers the first day. ( Hela would hiss if a collar so much as touched her.)  The first night, Vlad slept with one paw on each side of Eddie’s head with his head nuzzled under his beard.  The first day, he also discovered Hela’s catnip…and like I have never seen before, took each toy he liked and attempted to give it to Freyja…. who was curious of him, but would not get too close except when he was not looking.

By yesterday, they were sharing the sacred spot on the windowsill, without fighting.  inches apart from one another.

But still, Freyja has been wary of me… despite playing with Vladimir from a distance, when I enter the room- she mock- swats at him with her claws in, and appears disdainful of me.  Only now has she actually began to purr with me again.

We miss Hela with all our hearts, we miss her beautiful kitten-soft fur, her gentle nature, her love of new company and her hospitality to our friends and family (Freyja is antisocial!).  We miss our goodnight Kitty.  We miss her dearly, and it still hurts.

Vlad seems to know this, though- and has been a gentleman trying to cheer up the house- he’s a cat all the way… with normal cat head-butts, purrs, and noises- where our girls were mostly silent.  He’s short haired and polydactal,  making his front paws look more like hands.  He will never replace Hela- he was never meant to, he was meant to be a companion to Freyja so she would not go mad as Eris did- However, he is something entirely new in our lives and very, very welcome.  From his mannerisms and the timeline given by the Humane Society, we have concluded he must have belonged to a college student during the year- adopted as a kitten the first week of college, and surrendered at the beginning of summer- when it was realized cats were not welcome “back home”.

Cats and humans do not mourn in the same ways.  Freyja still looks for her sister, but has already begun to forgive me; additionally, she now seems to have a suitor which pleases her (although they are both “fixed”).

Eddie and I are still in mourning, and might not be very active for some days yet- but we’ll be okay.

Vladimir's first picture in his new home.

Vladimir’s first picture in his new home.

Protected: Rough Draft: Tuisto/Tyr- the unsmiling one.

Posted in About me on August 5, 2013 by Tyrienne

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Hail Loki! Thanks for the Husband!

Posted in About me, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 1, 2013 by Tyrienne
Wedding 2

Edward and the Author- the attractive Ginger is Edward 🙂

One year ago to the day of July 28th, I began dating my personal Helsman, Edward.  Since then, we pooled our resources created a place of worship within our home and have held gatherings/fainings/blots to the Gods that were closest to our hearts around once a month as well as a rune study.

Our two main goals were: 1. Hela Faining and 2.  Loki Blot.   We got engaged on the day of our Faining to Hela in October, and gave the promised Lokiblot as close as we possibly could to April 1st, including someone who brought their 4 year old named Loki (who was very confused we kept calling his name!)

So, on July 28th, 2013- Ed and I were married in a fully Heathen Pa Dutch based ceremony By Robert Schreiwer (our favorite Braucher, of the Troth fame) and our friend Brian Weiss (who has more religious certifications than anyone else I know).
ALL the Norse/Germanic/Latvian Gods who have touched our lives are represented on the beautiful altar Rob and I constructed-

Our Altar: The one rose given to Hela died- and afterwards, all were welcome to toss the flowers into the creek at the site with good wishes!

Our Altar:
The one rose given to Hela died- and afterwards, all were welcome to toss the flowers into the creek at the site with good wishes!

During the altar set up, a Raven stood on a dead branch directly above our Loki statue on the right for several minutes-  I croaked up to him and he replied back.  During the wedding itself- once we reached the altar I was told by Edward and others a giant black vulture flew to a low branch behind my back and mantled her wings for the entire ceremony- only to depart with our kiss to “seal the deal”.  Pictures of the Raven and Vulture did not come out well, sadly (if someone DID manage to get one of either- Let me know and I will add them to this post!)

Custom Ring by William Cougar designs.  Ed has the same one.  Silver alloy with Rhodium plating, two snakes with ruby eyes, and an onyx for fidelity. :)

Custom Ring by William Cougar designs. Ed has the same one. Silver alloy with Rhodium plating, two snakes with ruby eyes, and an onyx for fidelity.
🙂

If you are interested in attending our events; our events page on facebook is called “Freyja’s Hall” (We didn’t choose the name- Freyja wanted “in” on this.  We weren’t about to argue!  The Gods do not make the divisions between The Aesir, Vanir, Rokkr, and Jotunatru-  from what we have observed: humans do.)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/Freyjashall/

Our next event is an open Thor Blot tentatively scheduled for September 15th at 4pm (if there are community conflicts, let me know)- To thank the Thunderer for allowing his mighty clouds to pass us by and to soak Bensalem instead of Wyomissing.
🙂

So, most of all, a big HAIL goes out to Loki- who brought us together- whose children continue to guide Edward and and to Loki Himself who is constant with his love, support, and gifts I could never repay- except to live well and Honorably in His name. (and in Tyr’s) as well as continue my work within the greater community as whatever-it-is-I-do (Blogger?  Gythia? Facebook commentator? Troth member?)

Yes, I know this is a day after “Loki’s Month”= but as a Lokean,  I am being “intentionally contentious” and ignoring your “rules”. intentionally.

😛

(This is also why I spent so little time posting on this blog last month)