Archive for Religion

Respecting our Magical Legacy: Eastern Pennsylvania

Posted in About me, Justice, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 30, 2015 by Tyrienne
Card from

Card from “The Wild Unknown” tarot deck… (which I only wish I owned…soon?)

One of the many ideas I agree with put forth by Anton LaVey is “Do not deny that which grants you power.”  Today, I attended a large Metaphysical expo in Reading, Pennsylvania and a small event is a inspiration for this post.   I was sitting in on the gallery being held by my very first teacher in metaphysics, when at the end of the presentation my husband “caught” a well-known reader I have known for over 20 years staring at my husband’s tattoo of the sigil of Saint Cyprion- generally considered to be “Dark” by New-Ager standards.   The gentleman, as soon as he was noticed, averted his eyes and looked away quickly, seemingly unnerved. However, in knowing this man as long as I have, I knew he was not unfamiliar with personal spiritual practices which are entirely NOT “New-Ager Approved”.

….What bothered me is this:  the fact that I know this man so well, but yet he did not want to be “caught” in recognizing that tattoo (and likely others) my husband wears even though he, himself has likely utilized many equally “dark” practices in his own life.  (I do not believe in the dichotomy of “light=good”/”dark=bad”.)

Instead of a great opportunity to share, ask questions, and share ideas: he turned away- and it dawned on me that this same action was endemic but in reverse with many well-known spiritualist in our local and national Heathen community of people who see themselves as “born again” into Heathenry… and do not pay enough respect to the people and traditions that brought them the wisdom and skills they apply to their personal religious practice as well as how they present themselves to Heathenry at large.

Heathenry out-in-the-open is new in Pennsylvania in comparison to other “out” pagan/metaphysical traditions in Pennsylvania.  I know this because I was actually around when Der Heidevolkstam, Hawkafel, and other kindreds rose and fell.  I knew ABOUT them, but I did not interact with them when I first became open about my Heathen background.  Instead, I joined the kindred run by a very close friend of mine I had known since I was 15 or 16 and we all decided it was best to not be involved with the larger community.  (My family wasn’t even truly comfortable with the amount I did expose of my family traditions even at that time, and with the exception of Grandma, still feel “cagey” about sharing.)

I was born in Eastern Pennsylvania- and if you look closely at the modern Heathen community in the United States, you will find that many of the most well known of our magical practitioners are either also from this general region if not from New England/other Mid-Atlantic states.  The reason for this, simply from my observation, is the very strong communities both in modern Wicca and/or Witchcraft as well as the prevalence of the New-Age movement in this area which is well-established and worked tirelessly for acceptance.  Just in the city of Reading alone, there is a plethora of shops where to buy candles, sage, Florida water, and other necessities.  (I personally prefer visiting the shop Celtic Myth and Moonlight and Bodega’s for such things locally- living in Spain for a semester helped immensely with the latter!)

Not to say that people who do not claim to have any spiritual gifts are any less gifted/necessary/important to the community- they are.  However, one problem I have never yet addressed is the lineage of teachings from which many of us truly owe our reputations, wisdom, and insights.

I’ll begin: I was raised on the Main Line for my elementary years; a block away one of the greatest witches I know had two children about my age and she and I enjoyed a pleasant relationship.  I lived in the same house as my Latvian grandma, and my Pennsylania Dutch grandparents were only five minutes away.  My mother was abusive, however, my neighbors were kind and my family was close enough nearby that I was fairly safe from being killed, except for being pushed down a staircase and a few times where my father would pull my mother off of my young body as she tried to choke me….but then, thankfully, would send me to Nana’s to recover.  My great-grandparents were also still alive- my Nana’s mother was a bit of a Braucher, and I enjoyed nearly monthly visits to see my extended family in Mount Penn, near Reading Pa.  It wasn’t ideal, but looking back- I was so incredibly fortunate to have that time of relative safety.  I was intuitive because I had to be; I read my mother’s Llewellyn books for protection (but often got punished for that as well)…and my grandma’s Latvian friends had taught me how to read cards, how to read the shaped of molten metal poured into cold water every New Year’s eve, as well as countless folktales about Latvia and the “Old Religion”.   We went to Lutheran churches, however, at home- the house I was raised in was a convoluted mess of strange traditions/customs, medicinal plants, candles, and what I was convinced was a haunted attic that terrified the shit out of me.

I was twelve years old when we moved, and the abuse increased…however, I was then “old enough” (according to my father) that I could “survive my mother”.

Again, I was fortunate… one of my neighbors, Linda,  was a New-Ager and she looked after me a great deal and allowed me to tag along to my very first experience of a  New Age Faire run by Rosemarie Moyer.  From the Latvian side of my family, I has learned how to read playing cards in a wheel pattern, so for fun, I was allowed to set up a small table.  From that table of only charging somewhere around the insane sum of somewhere between $5-$10 a reading, I gained the attention of the coordinator of the fair and the owner of the land: Rose.  Rose honestly took me under her wing- taught me the tarot and lent me countless books throughout my teenage years in addition to allowing me to come with her to almost every fair she attended and Rose was even able to talk my mother into submission at times.   I was a novelty: I read in faires from Rockville to Reading, Pa and I even developed close friendships that exist to this day among most of the other vendors….and learned about Bey’s rock shop, which I suppose I could call “The Vatican of all Rock Shops”.   If you ever bought a crystal or unusual stone from any Metaphysical type store- it either came from Bey’s or was ordered online.

From Linda’s best friend (also named Linda), I learned some Reiki before she passed on.  At each faire, I had no shortage of people to learn all sorts of interesting things from Geology (I always loved rocks- my mom couldn’t break them!) to every kind of divination one can imagine- I loved to barter the most of all!   I read card professionally from age 12 to about age 16, even going so far as to get certified by the American Tarot association (likely long expired) and procuring a cheap business license to allow me to read in even more places.  Despite the fact I did not drive, I either found rides from other local vendors, and later, from friends who were exploring Wicca.

In my late teens, I joined the AmeriCorps Vista program and was assigned to work for the Cherokee Heritage center in Tahlequah, OK.  I have been accused by native’s of “the ‘Quah'” That I tend to idealize this town more than it’s fair share…. however, in this place I was surrounded by so many differing forms of metaphysical spirituality, both Native American as well as any other type imaginable, that my six months in that town solidified the importance of the metaphysical as a necessary and fundamental part of my life, so much so, that to ignore it is actually harmful to my mental health.  Even those who claimed “not to be into all that woo-woo stuff”- were still more magical than “muggle” . (Thank you, J.k. Rowling, before you- the terminology for those who were non-intuitive was far more derogatory!)

In my twenties, I leveraged my reputation as an established member of the metaphysical community to score a job working in a “Witch Store” in New Hope, Pennsylvania- the spiritual nexus of Wicca for Eastern Pennsylvania work- while spending as much time as I possibly could learning as much as Ed and Eric down at Mystical Tymes a few doors down from where I worked.  I still converse with Eric frequently and endevour to make the long, complicated trek at least once a year from Reading to New Hope still.  There is no better source for homemade incense blends I can recommend commercially- in addition to them having every known sort of pendant for every kind of pagan religious practice without any form of discrimination.

The terms “light” and “dark” lost their biased meanings to me somewhere between Oklahoma and New Hope- I learned that some of the foulest people claim to perform acts “only in the name of light”- while some of the most thoughtful and caring claim to be “dark magicians”.   Truly, I do not believe anyone can be fully rounded as a sensitive without a basic understanding that both selflessness (typically seen as a “light” trait) can lead to martyrdom and “pity me” syndrome- the self-interest and introspection that is considered the foundation of the “dark” side of metaphysics is necessary to retain balance.

For a few years in my 20’s, like many others… attempted to be “normal”.  I blocked out almost everyone except for a select few people.  I was in a neglectful relationship at best and my contact with the “magic” world was minimal as I worked in dead-end retail jobs and I intentionally blocked out the synaestesia that helped me survive my abusive childhood.   Magic was my refuge from abuse-  by being able to help others with their problems and relying on my own intuition in that helping, I was distracted from my own troubles in my teenage life enough to function rather normally.  The times in my life I have strived for “typical” normalcy (i.e. financial success, material possessions, or base achievements) are the very same times in my life that I have been at my very lowest mental-health wise as well.
I felt like the fire in my heart had gone out from the difficulty of living on my own without a true safety net-  I had random roommates I met on Craigslist, and I struggled often to make ends meet by holding down up to three jobs at a time concurrently.  A “main” job in retail as well as  delivering pizzas- then a 2 week bartending class allowed for me to become a bartender as well.  Bartending brought back a small amount of spirituality to my life seeing my clientele at the VFW and local bars I tended were mostly veterans. At this time, I also discovered that Heathenry existed outside of my family and I became the Gythia of a small kindred in Pennsylvania- this was before I knew of the existence of any “national” organizations, prior to me meeting any Heathen leaders or any such thing.  The kindred was (and still is) self-sufficient as much as we are able to be.

At age 27, after a few years of living my life on emotional autopilot, I met a young man online, fell in love and moved in with him to Canada.  He and his family were UUC’s- a very liberal branch of Christianity that was rather Gnostic and very metaphysical in their beliefs- although the relationship failed, through the difficulties presented in a new country and adapting to the difficulty of living with and loving someone who relied on his spirituality so strongly but at the same time was so incredibly difficult to live with on account of his newly-diagnosed DID (multiple personalities).

I found myself forced to acknowledge everything I had ever learned spiritually to survive the experience…. including the synaestesia which I believes was “seeing auras”, was actually sound-based crossing of the senses.  I was tested by a Canadian doctor and my ability to see weird colors (which I blocked out out of fear of my family history of schizophrenia) was actually a very important tool that I simply attempted to “throw away” which allowed for me to not only survive my childhood, but thrive as a member of several communities when I was younger.  With my synaestesia, my inabilities to understand normal human interactions were more than compensated for with colors, and with those colors, I could perceive healthy from unhealthy situations to an extent which I could not when I intentionally ignored that trait.

I also suffered from a great deal of resentment, I was unable to attend University of Colorado (on full scholarship) at the age of 20 on account of my parents falsely claiming me on my taxes… which in the eyes of FAFSA, voided my legal emancipation at age 17- and brought my parent’s income into account.

When I was in the process of leaving Canada I was already 27 years of age (beyond the point where my parent’s income was a factor), my ex made me promise him I would at least TRY to attend the best college I could find for religious studies and apply to become a multi-faith chaplain.   I felt strongly this was the correct course of action, and there was only one school outside of Harvard that I knew of that held such a lofty reputation….which just so happened to be BACK in Eastern Pennsylvania, yet again: Moravian College.  The third oldest university in the USA as well as attached to a seminary with an exceptional reputation.   I promised myself I would breeze through undergraduate studies without any thought to the present and focus entirely on my goal of reaching graduate school.

I was surprised I was accepted, and with my acceptance to this (at the time rather selective) school, I found myself recovering from a traumatic break-up of a relationship and back in the abusive relationship I left prior.  At the same time I began my time at Moravian it was the same time Moravian was “trying out” a new professor: a self-proclaimed Sufi of the Khorasani school of Iran who also was suffering from the same form of PTSD I was.  We became close- from him, I developed a strong renewed interest in the works of Molavi (Rumi) as well as Muhammad Iqbal.   I became at odds with my kindred as I was rather diverted from my initial intentions of becoming “legally official” clergy into somehow now finding myself in diplomacy and language training in hopes that the Iranian Green Revolution would be successful and I imagined myself as playing a minor (but delusionally optimistic) role in helping to heal the rift between the USA and Iran.

Bethlehem, Pa is yet another stronghold for the pagan community-  I spent some time away from the Heathen community for two or three years and believed it held “nothing more” for me at that time. I became deeply involved with the local Baha’i, attended all open ceremony held by the Cabot-Butler tradition which dominated the town, and even found a niche with a very random group of Discordian chaos magicians who were only “passingly friendly” with one another.   Further, I spent some time devoting my energies to the Unitarian Church of Bethlehem, and following that, just as much time in the local Mosque and studying the esoteric aspects of the Qu’ran for my thesis on the connection between the Physics of Time Theory and the perception of Time as seen by Sufi mystics- which were eerily similar to me.

In a way, in college, I was a bit of a Heirophant (hence the card at the top)… I learned overwhelming amounts of knowledge in seemingly infinite directions.  Living in Bethlehem allowed me to reconnect with the New-Age movement friends I had been out of touch with since the MUM Expo was in nearby Allentown where I shared a table with other vendors in my teenage years (but did not return to reading professionally), I had a positive reputation among the local Wiccans/Witches on account of my time in New Hope, and everything else was just a sea of endless information- in which, frankly, I was drowning by my inability to recognize boundaries and respect my own emotional, spiritual, and intellectual limitations.  Through this, I ended up plagarized in college and deeply abused from my lack of center and mistaken focus on the goal of achievement for achievement’s sake- however, I also ended up secretly homeless my last year of college and lived mostly off of charity from lack of funds outside of my increasing student loan debt.  However, I did manage to graduate cum laude with two degrees and a published thesis: World Religions (with a concentration in Islamic studies), and Philosophy- under which I wrote my thesis on the relation between mystical experience and time theory as posited by quantum mechanics.  Despite all my work on Iranian Diplomacy (and classes taken outside of Moravian on the subject). I only ended up with a minor in “International Studies”- despite the fact that the majority of my work in college seemed to be focused in that direction above and beyond my two earned degrees.

To put it simply:  I drove myself into insanity with all of this.   I desired too much.  I became a perfectionist to the point of emotional overload and for the life of me could not meet a single deadline.   My other professors were overwhelmingly forgiving, and I graduated with two degrees, cum laude, honors, and all sorts of other (mostly meaningless) academic accolades.  I was accepted into an intensive language program with the University of Maryland for Farsi, but mentally/emotionally?  I deteriorated.

With the sacking of the Canadian embassy after the failure of the Green revolution, the program which accepted me lost funding, closed, shortly thereafter, I was arrested and interrogated for 5 hours without any cause given- forced to perform demeaning physical exorcises for over 5 hours as I was insulted and threatened- and denied legal council.

Some friends of mine at the time encouraged in the months preceding to spend time back in Heathenry- and it was through the help of one of the main clergy of the AFA that I sought help at Horsham clinic- entirely broken emotionally, and religiously spent.   Thanks to the Heathen community, (coming full circle), I was able to re-integrate into Heathenry…and also, because of Heathenry, ending up in the clinic for that last time was what was able to get me into SSDI (disability) for my out-of-control flashbacks and C-PTSD nightmares which would have likely ended me in suicide without extensive psychological help and later, medical help when it turned out part of the severity of my mental illness was complicated with a serious heart condition which went unnoticed for years until AFTER I was on SSDI.  (…as of this moment,  I have been accepted into a local program which gives me some hope of being able to contribute more than the occasional blog post or random appearance at events with the help of more appropriate therapies for my conditions and live a life OFF of disability in a few years after much healing.)

Through my college blog which detailed my religious and emotional difficulties, I attracted the attention of my now-husband through Heathenry….and with him, we joined both national organizations.  One of which I burned bridges with for their disrespect for some of the Gods my biological family worshiped (Loki and Hel/Holle in particular) and the other (although we do not pay dues) I still respect and attend what events we can.

What I am trying to say by this post is this:   To most of you, I am just “The Lokean”…. I’m some stranger on the internet writing one blog out of thousands on Heathenry.  However, before Heathenry was as open and understood as it is today, family tradition Heathens all over the world found education, support, and help via many other avenues.  The Wiccans/Witches know me, the New-Ager’s know me, the Baha’i know me, as do others- but all in different ways.   Not bad for an agoraphobic- as much as I am buoyed by seeing my friends on occasion in each of these different communities, I also feel rather like a failure for not being mentally able to do “more”.

Heathenry does NOT exist in a vacuum, and those same Goethe’s and Gythias (particularly one’s older than thirty) are ALSO as equally well known in other pagan communities as well. As much as we may put up the facade of “Being 100% Heathen” that is simply untrue- Heathenry may be “home base”, especially for many of us with Northern European or Pa Dietsch backgrounds….but also, many Heathens seem to be ashamed if they came first from explorations into Wicca, Thelemics, New-Age, Unitarians, Baha’i’, Theistic Satanism, or any other metaphysical faith.

Under the umbrella of both or either metaphysics or paganism, the leaders of other communities know well the leaders of our Heathen community, and seem to care more for OUR welfare than we do theirs in many cases. (Not all, of course…. as always, Robert and Michelle do an excellent job in Philadelphia running Pagan Pride!)  Their histories and travels throughout the world of metaphysics is still followed by the communities they abandoned, and it seems to be almost embarrassed about starting out as a “Wiccan” or as a “New Age Psychic Reader”.

The actual leaders of the Wiccans and New-Agers still remember you, though….The longest running Expo being the MUM Expo in Allentown, Pa- by far the largest and most well-known of this region as far as I am aware….and yet, each year I have attended (even though I am no longer a vendor) I do not see any table for Heathenry, but I do try my best when I notice certain tattoos of Valknuts and clearly identifiable runes/Gods to give them contact information to both The Troth as well as the AFA.

Ideally, the point of this post is to maybe give a hand-up and bring forth the suggestion that in every faire, expo, and event of that nature, there SHOULD be a table manned by Heathens who will help shorten the long process of people who either were raised Heathen as I was or have found themselves drawn to our Gods and Runes and do not know of our existence.   I would like to see certain people pay homage to those who came before “open” Heathen worship existed in this region, to admit that they learned from The Witches, Wiccans, New-Agers, Satanists, Unitarians, and/or any other number of metaphysical paths prior to finding their home in Heathenry, and I would like to see the false pedestal dismantled that many Heathens hold our faith upon.

I am personally an archetypalist, I call myself “Heathen” as a designation of my ancestry as well as to the Gods that I feel most comfortable- however, we do everyone a disservice by being ignorant of other spiritual paths while their leaders still follow us, watch us with amusement, and shake their heads at our collective forgetfulness of how very much we owe those who were brave and strong enough to carve this niche in society of legitimacy we now enjoy.

In conclusion, I want to state VERY CLEARLY this DOES NOT apply to ALL OF HEATHENRY.   Those to whom it DOES apply to…. you know who you are- and *I* know who you are because the Witches Eastern Pennsylvania remember you when you were still taking your first steps to who you are today.

Thank your local Pagan/New-Age elders…. sociologically speaking, if you live in Eastern Pennsylvania- they are ALSO your elders in addition to any Heathen person of note. 🙂

(Note: As of this entry, I am equally invested into both the Heathen community as well as the Discordian/Chaos Magic community and try to maintain my positive ties from those I learned from in Witchcraft, New-Age, and other assorted spiritualists.  Hailing Eris goes well with Hailing Loki 😉 )

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Nyx/Nótt (and a bonus, accidental yet brief “Primer” on Chaos Magick/Discordians!)

Posted in About me, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 27, 2015 by Tyrienne
Artist unknown= If you can help me identify the artist, I would like to credit them properly.  This image has been found on multiple pages under different Goddess names.

Artist unknown= If you can help me identify the artist, I would like to credit them properly. This image has been found on multiple pages under every possible listed “Night Goddess name” from Nott, Breksta, Nyx, Mah, and even Artemis. Being archetypal in belief myself, I do not believe any of these names are inaccurate.

“Take my hand”-she said
She wore a dark blue dress made of night
In her hair a crown of stars
She stood at the prow of a small boat
gently perched upon the shore
Her right hand on the pole to steer
and her left hand out- to me
“Will you take me?”
I asked of her
“To the other side?”
I did not know what was resided there
but I was tired of residing here
“Do you know who I am?” she asked,
I had not a clue
but I replied, I put more trust in strangers,
then the people I already knew.
The night was calmly quiet,
Just the sound of her oar upon the tides
I did not say a word to her
words tend to lend to lies
In the boat there was a blanket
soft, so dark, and warm.
I feared not how I appeared to her
wrapped tight, safe, and alone.
I did not know the water
Whether ocean, lake or stream
I did not know the oarswoman
Nor awake or in a dream
As I closed my eyes
upon the gentle waves
I felt her hand upon me
and felt peace there as I lay

********************************************

I wrote the above poem over the summer on another blog (which I will delete promptly after this writing) based on a fever dream when I was severely ill. I never really felt “right” writing in the new space and of the four posts I made in that blog, this was only thing worth salvaging or coherent.

At the time of writing, I was recovering from a hospitalization due to complications on account of Lyme’s disease that were nearly fatal to me.  I lost my summer to a combination of darkness and sleep; often too weak or in pain to do very much at all.  (With the right combinations of medications and time, I am back to normal functioning at this time, thankfully.)

Nótt is a personification of night.  In Ancient Roman traditions, she is called Nyx, which is her most common name and is considered a daughter of Chaos (Eris– to Discordians)….apropos in particular to me since my spirituality tends to lead me to Discordianism/Chaos Magic forums in a sort of double-life between Heathenry and Discordianism.  There is an extensive mythos to her archetype in countless European cultures.  To Latvian/Lithuanians, she is called “Breksta” (Twilight) and to the Persians, “Mah“- of similar description and imagery.

Chaos Tradition (which is likely one of the most recently reconstructed forms of “lost” spirituality) is simply the acceptance that we do not possess the capability of understanding the nature of the universe.  In Theistic Discordianism,  The practitioner remains fluid; divination is “off the cuff” from surface impressions and prayers are expected to be answered in entirely unexpected ways.   Truly, having a degree in Philosophy has convinced me no one can have a monopoly on knowledge when all human knowledge is inevitably flawed in relation to “ultimate reality”.

Many Discordians see that pathway to their desires being a “surprise” with only the final result of intention being what matters. This process lies in accepting the “price” of uncertainty in the process and in some, an avoidance of “formal” ritual- but Discordianism, like its Goddess, is mercurial, capricious, and spontaneous.  (and often whimsical, in our fashion) Therefore, what is true for me in navigating Eris is going to, inevitably, be entirely different in UPG than others, as others are from one another.

The “path” (to me) as metaphor is a wild river through unknown lands- but the destination is known…. or, conversely, if the path is known, the destination is not….and each path taken in Discordianism/Chaos magics is seldom tread twice.

We understand we cannot have everything, but embrace contradictions, madness, spontaneity, coincidence, and our own form of “grace” which we find in fortuitous synchronicity which guide us.  The more “synchronicity” in life; the more “on track” we are with our intentions and works since synchronicity is seen by some of us (myself included) as the reward for good works or as encouragement to pursue the ideas thought at the time of said synchronicity.

My schedule leaves me sometimes in “eternal night” since I tend to fall asleep around 5am and have found myself so accustomed to working 3rd shift from my occupation prior to college, I feel more comfortable in darkness than light….leaving the lights off in my apartment often until my husband returns from work after midnight.

Honestly, light is uncomfortable for me, in the light, I must wear glasses, but by some strange design, my night vision is exceptional except in reading print.

I do not know what the dream meant other than to inspire this poem.

Growing up “Heathen” (As I experienced it)

Posted in About me, On the Gods, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 24, 2015 by Tyrienne
Commonly known as "Gar" to Heathenry, this symbol is found is both Pennsylvania Deitsche as well as Latvian folk arts.

Commonly known as “Gar” to Heathenry, this symbol is found is both Pennsylvania Deitsche as well as Latvian folk arts.

Hello cats and kittens, today I’m going to discuss the very confusing, convoluted, and strange life it was for me growing up in a clandestinely polytheistic European family from two ENTIRELY different traditional backgrounds; Lettish(Latvian) as well as Austrian/Pennsylvania Dutch (which I will spell and misspell in every possible way- and gave up on spell-checking every instance!) and attempt as well to create a compare/contrast between these two belief systems.

First off, please discard any ideas that my childhood was “ideal” in any manner- my mother was severely mentally ill with profoundly violent schizophrenia, which was entirely unmedicated needlessly complicating my religious upbringing further since I associated many of her beliefs and practices she observed as “Nothing I Want Any Part Of” even if they were legitimate, Latvian customs. This resulted self-limiting myself by distancing myself from Latvian culture- since I associated all things that involved my mother with severe abuse.  Furthermore, despite her polytheistic upbringing she spent her time rather aimlessly “wandering” between New-Age and vague Christianity as it suited her psychosis at the time….that was further compounded by the unwillingness of her community to “teach” her.  Unlike reconstructionism, traditional European polytheism seems to have some very exclusionary principles- as in “Why waste the time to teach someone who will either not “get it” or will simply fuck it up somehow?”

Be that as it may,  I was fortunate that I was raised in a multi-generational household and in very close proximity to my extended family outside the home as well- including paternal grandparents and great grandparents since my Pennsylvania Dutch/Teutonic side tended to have children early in life (and frequently) until my grandparent’s generation. I was surrounded by second and third cousins from my grandfather’s seemingly infinity large family of Austrian/Deitsche descent.  My Latvian side is simply my grandmother and uncle- and some very distantly related 3rd and 4th degree cousins I do not know.

Both my Uncle and Brother are agnostics with little interest in these things, I do not know my uncle’s story, but my brother missed out on time with now-deceased relatives which shaped my spirituality.

To continue- another thing worth noting is that the word “Heathen” is still seen as rather insulting in the family/social circles of both the Lettish as well as the Deitsche- which is a huge part of the resistance of many “traditional” families that I personally know and have befriended over the years.  Partially, because cultures are agrarian in nature, mostly pacifists, and not Norsk. The Latvians/Lettish prefer to be called “Druids” in English- and the “Hidden Dutch” prefer to be left entirely alone, still…. to the detriment of creating a more complete picture of unbroken European polytheistic tradition.

There is good reason for this; basically, the strongest commonality both sides of my family share is a deep-seated fear and strong distrust of “outsiders” directly resulting from centuries of hiding and persecution.  To save themselves as well as their respective cultures, the German Lutheran church provided sanctuary in exchange for the promise that all children would be baptized/confirmed, and monetary donations would be made regularly whether attendance occurred or not.  It’s just how things were done.  In college, I learned that the Moravian church did likewise in other locations.   My old pastor, bless his heart, tolerated us, spoke fluent German, and “suffered” three generations of my German family poking metaphorical holes in his Bible and generally being as reluctantly “Lutheran” as a person can get.  Starting from my father sitting me down with a Bible and showing me all the “cool” questions to ask; “Where are the ‘Great Sea Monsters’ mentioned in Genesis, they couldn’t have drowned in the flood, right!?” and my personal favorite was picking the absolute most inappropriate verses to read in church during confirmation classes.  After my father and his best friend scraped their way through confirmation like mischievous Vaetirr, my choices of the “Sunday Reading” from the Bible were very strictly monitored and I had to submit several more than the other children after my dad’s best friend ALLEGEDLY  read with great enthusiasm, Ezekiel 23:20:

“… There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses….” etc.

Yeah, we didn’t get away with much past Pastor Reimet, he was chagrined by us, but he also had a sort of quirky sort of affection for our line. We kept him on his toes- and he just LOVED telling everyone how whenever my grandfather and father were in a service at the same time “Lightning struck the church.” (Totally not true, that only happened ONCE…maybe twice.)  “Heathen” was meant as an insult…as in “Stop running in the choir loft, you little Heathens!”

When I complained about church, it was my Dad who said to me. “Look, without the Lutherans, none of us would be alive right now.    When you’re finished with classes believe whatever you want. We’re polytheists anyway, seriously what is the harm of learning about one more god?”

Anyway, I have escaped myself- so, away from the church (at which I was dropped off- my parents had no interest in staying except during my mothers sporadic “Christian” phases where she could use Jesus as yet ANOTHER justification I was “evil”.)

Okay. Well, this post is going to suck to write- Looking at the tangled maze of teachings, secrecy, contradictions, and absolutely strange customs that I STILL don’t see in modern reconstructionism, there does not seem to be a linear way to “explain”, but I will do my best.

First major difference between how I was raised and reconstructionism:  although the concept of Valhalla is known, the logistics of being in a place that is basically daily bloodshed is likely not appealing to peace loving, self-secluded, agrarian cultures when there is an understanding the afterlife is chosen by your belief system, mostly.  However, that being said, “I’ll see you in Valhalla!” said in front of either culture will likely be met with a wince considering Valhalla is for warriors who die in battle, and even then, only under the special conditions of being “Chosen” just prior to the moment of death.  If we go by technical research on concept of Valhalla, there would be less people from modern times chosen for Valhalla than Christian Heaven than in the more violent past from more war-inclined traditions.

Personal opinion? If you are Heathen, make your peace with Frau Holle/Hel(a)/Mara now rather than having to explain why you failed to do so in life.

Grandma from Latvia is still with us- and to her, Jesus was just “another” God, and since he was the one most people around her worshiped HER tradition entailed that if you pray for someone you pray to THEIR God(s), not your own- since “Our Gods might not know them”.  Since my wedding, she has been completely “Out” about her paganism and has become very active in the Latvian spiritual community.  Latvians, like Hindus have literally thousands of Gods- one for each species of flora and fauna.  Even picking flowers, it is polite to thank the plant….and Latvia is more Vanic than Aesir, with Mara (A sort of Holle/Frigg figure) and Janis seeming to have “top spot” (Freyr, his name changed to “Janis” several hundred years ago to keep their primary summer festival “Jani” or “Janistag” by claiming St. John and Freyr are the “same” to nosy Christians.)  The stories from her childhood are truly priceless- of the entire village running from German Lutheran missionaries into the woods when they came to baptize in one of the two local rivers- only to wait until they left to jump into OTHER river to “wash it off”.   When I asked her about Loki, she concluded that he was the same as the Hearth-God Loke  (also found in Finland), who blesses you with Luck if you keep your chimney clean, and fills the flu with dead squirrels if not.

There is something to that- my uncle pulled out six or seven of them one Yule….completely mummified.  However, the Latvian word “Loki” means “onions”. Please do not confuse them if you happen to run into one of the VERY few left of this extraordinarily tiny ethnic group of Lettish Vanir-worshipping druids.  Latvians are a very proud people.

The Latvians tradition I was raised in was pan-polytheistic, there is a “Big God” called “Dievs”- however, he doesn’t interact with humans much in the same way that humans are the host of millions of microscopic organisms that we have no awareness of. That is where the Latvian Pantheon comes in, called “Dievas”- in my family, they are our Ancestors who “stayed around” or plant/animal Gods who help us. The one’s she was most fond of are Janis (Freyr), Mara (Holle), Perkons (Donar/Thor), and Laima, a luck goddess with no close correlation I have found in Europe but I suppose could be rather like a “Northern Lakshmi”- with elements of child-protection as well. A great deal of emphasis is placed on “lucky” animals- particularly ladybugs, squirrels, toads and a magical snake with a crowned head.  Killing any of these “special” animals would basically be very “unlucky”. (Er…disastrous, perhaps?) Different regions of Latvia had slightly different naming conventions as well as customs.  My family was from the South West region, near the Lithuanian border.

Each ethnic group has it’s own traditional dress as well as customs.  I know the costume for my region for women is a full length red velvet skirt, white shirt, white stockings, black shoes, and a stiffly beaded crown with a belt woven by hand of sacred symbols that are similar to SOME of the Futhark.  Unmarried women wore their hair in braids, married women covered their hair when they went outside…a tradition Grandma still practiced when I was a child but seems to have discarded over time.  My particular ancestry was known for having bright green eyes- which was considered both lucky and rare- my Latvian grandmother, my father, and I are the only people in our family still living I’ve seen with green eyes.  Everyone else is either steel-blue, hazel, or brown on either side of my family.

Another tradition I still keep to this day is when I am told of a death of someone who touches either myself or a close friend, I do my best to uphold my responsibility to light a candle to “Light their way” to whatever afterlife they need to find- which, to Latvians has been describes as “Where it is always summer, but never too hot- beer flows like rivers, and you meet Janis.”  However, death customs are complicated.  Most of my childhood (on both sides) seems to have been spent in cemeteries caring for graves, planting flowers, and singing dirges in November as well as Summer in a language I could read out-loud but could not understand except for select words I recognized. (My brother I am reading this too, said “Like Strawberries! Zeminis”)  Hauntings by deceased family are never seen as “bad”, it appears to me.  Family members “wait” and watch after death and sometimes choose not to move on without their most beloved family members.

My grandfather I only know in real life as a headstone in a Latvian section of a cemetery on the Mainline suburb of Philadelphia, what I do know was he was a stern, intelligent man- multilingual, and had an affinity for Tyr.  He spent a great deal of time in Germany, so I am uncertain if that affinity came from a Lettish “Tyr” I do not know or if he “Met Him in Germany”.  Like me, however, he apparently spent a great deal of time studying and exploring other religious traditions.
He was fluent in the elder Futhark as well as the Latvian symbols.  To answer the unspoken question: Yes, I do personally believe my ancestors watch over me and interact when they feel they need to.

Vilanis/Vilanus (Likely spelled horribly incorrectly, but equivalent to Wotan- but “minor” rather than the lead), Latvian pagans say “God walks among men”- implying the Teutonic legend of Woten wandering with his two dogs/wolves (Latvian “dogs” tend towards the more “wolfish” breeds of husky-types and shepherds)  as a beggar looking for kindness among His people.  To feed and shelter him is to be given great luck, to turn him away has usually dire consequence.  In some areas/countries, he is actually depicted as a permanent werewolf, half wolf/human hybrid, or simply a shapeshifter.

The thing with the Lettish deities is she honestly felt they were “left at home” when she left Latvia, believing there were other Gods indigenous to the US that “she does not know”.  Thanks to the hard work of the Latvian Druids there is now a growing voice to the Lettish pagans courtesy of the work of Mr. M. Bisenieks, the husband of her best friend, Maya.  It’s been three years, I STILL haven’t been able to connect with the man…but if you are reading this, please understand I am doing my best, sir.

The difficulty with the the Lettish traditions is several fold.  First of all, our numbers were DECIMATED in WWII by Stalins regime which sent the majority of my ancestry to Siberia, of which, only one family returned. My grandmother was an only child and her father was a diplomat allowing for her immediate family to escape- the next day, the rest of those in her village were captured.  She still relives the day she left, they made an agreement with Germany to give them the farm and livestock in exchange for asylum, with the promise after the war all would be returned to them.  Despite her inability to really “click” with her horse and ride him without getting bitten- she still remembers him with his new German brand-mark coming to the fence as they walked by the last time and that she only had the time to pack one pair of shoes.  She was 8 years old, and spent the entirety of the rest of her childhood and teenage years in what sounds like a rather well-appointed refugee camp that was entirely Latvian.

The Holocaust was not only in Germany- more people died in Russia under Stalin, and thousands of Japanese died in US internment camps as well.   The silence on this issue is deafening; and public school with the innate biases in our textbooks created no end of trouble for me- outspoken and taught from BOTH sides that American news and history lies….even in the 1980’s-90’s before the current socio-political problems of misinformation.   We had newspapers from Latvia, a Ham radio, and German news sources when we could get them.  Further, since Latvia was part of the (now former) USSR, our phone lines were tapped and my grandma and her friends were constantly harassed and hassled much like those of Middle Eastern descent today in our country. History repeats.

Furthermore, in my youth there was a HUGE emphasis placed on blood quantum, at least in the area in which I lived.  My father, despite being German, was treated very poorly by the Latvian community, as was my mother for “marrying outside”… my brother and I are “Half-bloods”.   Latvian children were given the option of attending Latvian camp and school on weekends- which I avoided (due to the reasons stated earlier), my brother did not.  The indigenous religions were not taught, but rather a focus on diplomacy and an emphasis on learning the language so we could “Go back” and “take back” the country from the Russian settlers who have since settled- three generations deep- into the farms of the Latvian diaspora.  My family was unsuccessful in winning back Grandma’s farm after years of work between us and her cousin still “at Home”, sadly… yet on the other hand, how does displacing a Russian family who lives there now (and has lived there for 40+ years) help anything when we have roofs over our heads here?

Considering the dwindling numbers of our ethnic group, I have heard that things have become “warmer” towards people such as I- however, I personally have the feeling (true or simply perception) that my very public association with American Heathen reconstructionism may have created an unintentional rift- despite the fact that I have been asking for help through Grandma to have dinner with the Druids and be taught “properly” so I can better and more accurately relate the stories and integral pieces that unbroken Baltic spirituality brings to the global Heathen community.  My Latvian religious background is a mishmash of my Grandma’s village traditions as well what little education I would accept as a child from Dzidra, a women who TERRIFIED Latvian youths simply by her strangeness, but yet, she also- Tante Dzidra was both our Witch and our Auntie.  She was a nurse by profession, loving and dedicated in her own way  to making sure we were “taught”- but a woman who keeps an ear-piercing gun and vaccination needles in her car is still a mixed blessing to a small child.  Did I mention she was absolutely terrifying?

On her account as well as Maya’s, I was taught forms of Latvian divination, straight-deck card readings as well as the New Years tradition of pouring molten metal into cold water to hold the resulting shape against candle flame to intuit the future for the next year by the shadows cast upon a piece of paper on the table.   I used the cards to make a name for myself as “The Youngest Psychic” reading at faires in Pennsylvania in my teenage years escaping my mother by having the faire organizers saying I was “helping out”.  Either way, I came home with money and really cool minerals and crystals.  I collected rocks (and still do) simply because it was the only thing I could possibly collect my mother couldn’t break or harm me with if they were small enough.  Steal, absolutely…break? not so much.

So, basically, as a child I came to the conclusion that all Latvians were either assholes or completely insane.  I have since revised this, of course- considering that a great deal of the experiences were tainted by the sheer violent nature of my mother.  However, on the bright side EVERY Latvian (and the people we marry) get a SECOND birthday called a Name’s day- the wikipedia article is woefully inaccurate on this in that they claim it derives from Catholic influence- however, even in said article I found in their own definitions the origin detailed by wikipedia contradicts the established tradition of the non-Christian Saami peoples who also have small settlements in North West Latvia, in particular and the “Latvian” section removes all reference to religion whatsoever.  I honestly have no idea why we have Names’ days…but hey!  Second birthday, AWESOME!

On the other side of the family:  my father- who fluctuates between staunch polytheism and “Broad ‘Pascal’s Wager'” semi-agnostic.  Be that as it may, HE was the one who bought all the children’s books on German folklore and “mythology” for my bookshelf- told stories of Loki, Thor, and Odin (Loki, Donar, and Woten, correctly)…  mostly of Loki/Thor, and rather enjoyed telling people he worshiped Loki while people couldn’t tell if he was serious or insane…

But Dad, well, he always liked to keep people guessing regarding that issue.

He also bought books on other European mythos such as “Bullfinch’s Greek Mythology” and my mother had a strange obsession with folktales and fairytales retold in Harlequin fashion.  I got no end of beatings for “stealing” my mother’s books- but honestly, even at age 12 I realized “stealing” a book that is literally 3 feet from my own bedroom is a ludicrous concept.
My father is a great person, but he loves nothing more than to “test” and confuse acquaintances.  Along with Lokeanism, we also had the now great Discordian texts of  “Condensed Chaos”, and “Flatland”.  Science was revered to him and seen as non-adversarial to his personal spirituality- and his talents lie with making machinery and broken technologies “work” with a MacGyver-esque flair.  His sledge hammer is called “Mjollnir”, and he had activities he called “Taunting Thor” meaning climbing large, metal objects in the most stormy conditions simply out of annoyance if we lost a shingle or even if it was simply that our satellite dish was “off” preventing him from watching the Sci-fi channel.  If I had to define him by a modern label- it would be “Braucher-raised techno-mage.”  As to my childhood, by tradition, since my mother was impregnated by him, he felt obligated to marry her to “do the right thing”.  He lived with her for 20+ years in complete misery, but he worked a great deal of overtime to support her and my brother and I- leaving him in the dark regarding my mother’s increasing unpredictability and violence, now without the protective shelter of my extended family since we moved over an hour from any other relatives when I was 12 years old.

Not my entire family is Heathen-  my father’s dad is dead silent regarding religion.  His grandmother he described as “A terrifying Austrian witch who wore nothing but black and purple and had hair down to her ankles.”  I never could get more out of him than that, and in religious conversation, he is silent.

My Nana (Dad’s mom) believes in “Folkcraft”, and despite repeated attempts to convince her to please write down all the old traditions of our family of Hildebrandts, she has adamantly refused.  In my early years she was my absolute favorite relative and really enjoyed her telling me the history of my “unbroken” Braucher line.  Unlike most Braucherei/Hexerei I have met, traditions were passed from women to their daughters.  When my Nana had two sons only, the line was “technically” broken.  However, I do have a female second cousin our section of the family is estranged from who enjoyed many, many more years with my Great-Grandma, Nana Gloria.  Her family were Hildebrandts who were Hexers with the only affiliation with the “Bible” I have been able to discern concretely is entirely reduced to the “Seven books of Moses”- a text used in Brauchei/Hexerei rituals.      My Nana is cagey- and repeatedly, I have seriously pissed her off by being “Public”- which is likely part of the current rift between us.  To her, our traditions are “family only” and that our personal family tradition with the “English” (Non- Deitsche) was to mislead them with misinformation.  As a child, it was apparently a fun game for her elder’s used to play to see what sort of crazy bullshit they could make the “English” researchers believe we practice in our folk medicine.

In reality, most of it was common sense, herbal, and used a great deal of metaphor.  Taking down pictures of family members and storing them reversed as well as sweeping the house after doing so was a sign of absolute displeasure just short of shunning if not outright rejection. My Nana’s mother, Nana Gloria was an expert at making cars break down of people who pissed her off.  She would say, “Just tell the tires to go flat if they cut you off.” I was probably 6.  I guess she figured she wouldn’t live long enough to see me drive…and sadly, she did not.

Again, with the Germans, even MORE time was spent in cemeteries.  In line with common Urglaawe belief, we believed on THAT side of the family that each new child born into the family held the spirit of one deceased… hence, all of us were named after dead family members in our middle names.  My brother was properly named.  I was named after a sociopathic great-grandmother on my Latvian mother’s side who likely strongly contributed to her mental illnesses.  I legally changed the entirety of my name as soon as I could in my 20’s.

That side of the family shares the same belief as the Latvians that our dearly departed “stay” if they choose to guard as well as guide the family.  Dreams of dead relatives are VERY important to us, and despite my Dad’s occasionally fluid beliefs, he still is the first person I go to when I dream of the dead from his side of the family.  Great-Grandma Helena only comes in dreams to complain about 3rd cousins I hardly met, Pop-pop George usually plays pranks on people being assholes to Dad and I in “hauntings”, and Pop, Great-grandma Helena’s husband makes entire houses fill with tobacco smoke despite being a family that is anti-tobacco after Pop-Walter died of lung disease when my father was a child.  Pop Walter was also Deitsche- thrifty, and believed STRONGLY in giving away that which he had no longer use for (as well as the objects owned by others in his household, much to their chagrin).   I didn’t realize until I wrote this that I am the only other person in my family who also jettisons material goods at random to friends and charity spontaneously if I know others can put the items to better use/need more than I.

Corporal punishment of children on my Latvian side was tolerated in our family tradition, however, the German side (German is just SO much easier to spell) placed special love and value on children and punishments were usually chores rather than the futile “Go to your room” or beatings.  My Latvian grandma would only hit if I hit someone else- however, she was beaten severely as was my mother by her mother with birch switches. My mother didn’t have such patience- usually beating me was with whatever object was closest at hand.   Nana Helena would just shake her head at misbehavior- the only “intolerable” thing among us children (me and my seemingly endless amount of 2nd and 3rd cousins) was long hair on men and beards.  She HATED that.   Oddly enough, she was also the only person who was devoutly Catholic in my family which SHE kept secret from all of us until after her death when we found a well-used rosary hidden in a box of greeting cards and my father asked the Priest at the Cathedral across the street to find out she was “sneaking out” to mass.  Considering the polytheistic nature of the countless saints and angels, I do not find any contradiction between a devout Catholic and Polytheism except in semantics.  I held onto her rosary until I moved back Reading, Pennsylvania- near to where she is buried where my father and I buried it under her headstone and planted roses to fill the hole.  The grave of Pop Howard and Nana Helena are absolutely covered with flowers and decorations from my extended family to this day despite her passing in 1995.  It meant a lot to me to add to the “collection”. (unless Nana, Dad’s mom, removed my roses out of spite by now. 😦 )

Punishments from Grandma were more German than those I received from my mother.   My home life was violent, so my fathers side was too busy attempting to save/protect me from my mother’s wrath for punishment, my Latvian grandma worked as did my father except for two wonderful years he was self-employed repairing electronics as my mother worked.  I believe I recall only being yelled at ONCE as a child by my father’s parents for using the couch as a tightrope.

At this current point in time, I am trying my very hardest to reconnect the pieces- I have reached out to my estranged extended family on my fathers side only to find rejection that is not personal, but rather derived from the actions of my grandparents that have harmed them (perceived or real harm- I cannot say, I was not there.)   The same problem exists on the Latvian side.  For my safety, I am estranged from my mother and she holds the “upper-hand” in being able to speak fluent Latvian making going to the Philadelphia Latvian club literally dangerous to me.  Again, if any Latvians are reading this:  You know my mother, I know you understand my predicament.  Please reach out to me- Grandma is 83 and every day is a gift, and I fear if I lose her I will lose this tenuous connection that connects “The Earth Religion” of my ancestors to help correct and shape modern Heathenry and dispel the mythology that we NEED to be “Reconstructed” while thousands of families in the US and Europe live in unbroken tradition that fall under the blanket of “Heathenry”.  Some may not like the word, but words are the only thing that people understand in how to categorize their beliefs.

I honestly find American Heathenry confusing in that regard- how I was raised, I am not Scandinavian, we didn’t have Sumbel, and we only had Toasts on the Latvian side when guests came to visit and very large dinners on both sides.  (The food was better with the Pennsylvania Dutch by far…)  We did not pray- we believed on BOTH sides “gifts” were meant to be greeted with a “Thank you”- and to try to solve one’s own problems.  We believe in self-reliance.  Latvian Grandma still TRIES to shovel before the neighbors stop her… her Latvian customs have spread to her typical suburban Philadelphia neighborhood where everyone on her side of the street is “family” and they all look out for one another- meaning usually the closest man with a snow blower comes to save her the trouble- or at worst, my Uncle gets called by my “Aunt” Jan, Grandma’s next door neighbor, until he arrives from a neighboring suburb with his shovel….sometimes multiple times if the weather conditions are particularly poor.  I live over 2 hours away, but when I lived closer for a year, I came over weekly to help him in caring for her house by mowing, weedwacking, shovelling, etc…

Growing up, it felt like I had dozens of Aunts and Uncles- most of them were actually unrelated to me…but some I still keep in touch with if I have the ability…. and I am happy to see that “modern” Heathenry has adopted a modified form of this custom in Frith and Fellowship.

In BOTH traditions, religion where you “go to church” is more social than anything- true religion is found in daily life and in our productivity- whether it be working, repairing, or study.  “Studying” is valued by the Latvian side- but my Deitsche grandparents are vehemently angry that I am on disability and no matter how much of my time is spent in study or helping others by running online support groups, clergy work, or sheer volume of anonymous writings I contribute online regarding Heathenry answering what questions I can and feeling like an overwhelmed air-traffic controller at times “matching” Heathens with those who can give them the information and communities that will help them best.

In conclusion, this is where I come from- feel free to ask any questions you like in the comment section below.

On Racism, Neo-Nazism, and Everything that Bunches your Panties!

Posted in About me, Justice, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 26, 2013 by Tyrienne
I'm an equal opportunity hater.

I’m an equal opportunity hater.

Wow, that reaction to the last post was fast.   I was in the shower and it came to me “Great post, I’m proud of you- Now you need to quickly bury it with another on that other people want to hear about.”

Thanks, Loki.

So, this might come as a surprise to some of you, but did you know that each and every single member of the human race comes with a unique background, experiences, upbringing, education level, interests, and biases?  It is true!  Not only that, but most human beings HATE being classified into neat little boxes and discarded because they hold a point of view that is unpopular that thereby renders everything else they have to offer to the community as null and void!

So, the great, big topic in Heathenry these days is racism and the influence of the neo-nazi movement on our religion at large.  There are two sides to this great debate-  the “Folkish ‘ We’re not racists, we just hate black people'”  side, and the Universalist “Love everyone! Except for Nazi’s,  Or Else we’ll hate you!” side.

Hmmm.   Hard choice, there.   I would like to relay to you a prejudice that I have before I answer the question:

I DESPISE faux-blonde soccer moms in SUV’s.  I absolutely hate them.  Everytime I see one on the road, my blood boils- from their loud Ke$ha or KidsBOP music, to their screaming spawnlings in the back seats, to their inability to park in just one space.  I hate seeing them spend 20 minutes fondling their purses as I wait for a parking space at the China Buffet.  Bitch, I wear my keys on my belt with a climbing clip….if your purse is deep enough to fear purse coyotes sucking you into the depths of your Louis Vuitton special edition whore’s purse snatch syndicated bag ;  I will not only join organizations against your kind, but I will burn effigies of Life-size LaBoutin heels on your lawn until you move you and your hell-spawn back to some urban area where I never have to deal with the likes of your people again.

An older blonde. Purse Coyotes. I would pay to genetically engineer an army of them.

So, anyway, racists.   No.  I am not a racist.  I find the entire idea of race delightfully amusing in the “Aryan” community being a former student of Persian studies knowing that “Aryan” is a cognate of “Iranian” and “Caucasian” comes from the word “Caucus” referring to the mountain range which divides Turkey from Persia (aka Iran).

As in my last post there are people in this world I cannot stand- the above examples as well as the one in the previous post being on a list.  HOWEVER…this is how I actually feel.

I don’t care who you are friends with,  if you are friends with me, you can be sucking Hitler’s dick as long as you don’t expect me to do likewise.   Same thing goes for if you are friends with an Oathbreaker or a tiny blonde woman in a SUV.  If I am friends with you, I have no doubt made my stance on the matter clear-  I choose neither “Side”, but take each person as an individual to determine if they are worthy of my time. (Groupthink is bad, people…look it up). Your friends are not my friends.  You are my friend…unless I meet your friend and get to assess them with my personal judgement skills I have no right to judge them…. and even if you ARE friends with someone I dislike- guess what?

I DO NOT GIVE A FLYING FUCK.

(again…friends with you, don’t care who you have lightsaber wars with your cock with)

Furthermore, the movement to annex the “Neo-Nazi’s” out of the community is a terrible idea considering that from an outsider’s perspective, the words of a Neo-Nazi Heathen are no less and no more viable than a non Neo-Nazi.

What I propose is this- if you want to make a difference in how people see the world…. TALK To THEM…but not with the express purpose of changing them, since that in underhanded and dishonorable.   The best way to deal with racism is to have an open dialogue about it.  If racist and non-racist mix, who knows?  Maybe we can all find something to hate together… like the war in the Middle East which has been eating all our resources in the US, or tiny little blonde women in great big SUV’s.

I have friends on both sides of this fence which would make both sides blanch in indignation.  “How COULD you?!”  I would be asked.  Easy… they run one hell of a sumbel/make awesome potpie/come out with interesting newsletters.

The key to unity and harmony is moving the focus AWAY from racism altogether and finding common ground- the more you focus on any difference, the more that difference shines and detracts away from any hope of reconciliation.

Politically, I belong to “The Troth”.  However, I have friends, good friends, who do not agree with “The Troth’s” stances on many issues…. and that is okay.

With that being said.  If anyone is interested in (metaphorically) burning down a Sephora store in a upscale shopping center (or even just zombie-flashmobbing one) let me know.

As for Loki- let it be also known that my Patron God has never singled out any group for hatred or spite- but instead has been both an equal opportunity lover and hater.

😉

Shedding Skin

Posted in Justice, On the Gods with tags , , , , , , , , on September 26, 2013 by Tyrienne

I have learned many things in my 31 years on this Earth; the number 1 lesson is “No one likes the unvarnished Truth.”

The truth is, I’m likely more intelligent and articulate than most of you, truth is, I am more often right than when I am wrong- and when I am wrong I am honestly surprised and the first to apologize.  However, were I a concert violinist, no one would find it amiss if I were to state I am likely a better musician than you- however; should the topic change to thought processes, creativity, and pure reasoning power- well, there is a reason I have been plagiarized, feared, and harmed.   I can hold up a mirror and for my flaws in my memory, I can remember certain important facts that people do not want publicized.  In Green Lantern, even Synestro is known as a truth-teller and he’s the greatest enemy in the franchise (or at least the best known).  Like a snake, I am bored and I am listless…I itch as if I have skin I wish to shed….so I am going to do so in this post:

Fact #1.  I know locally famous “magician” who claims to work with light, but in fact was the same magician who introduced my husband and I to ancient Sumerian deities personally- and works with questionably “dark” sources without giving them their due.   Look, the whole light/dark dichotomy is an illusion in the first place- but to demonize both my husband and I for what is barely secret does nothing more than give Ed and I a sort of allure and Je ne sais quoi that makes us appear more exotic and desirable to get to know.  It’s backfiring; now we have people thinking we a couple of warlocks and more people want to meet us rather than less.  Baphomet and Lilith say “Hello ungrateful wretch,” by the by.

Fact #2.  I know a person who claims to be a College professor of Philosophy in a local technical institute who he himself has never set foot into a college for his own education….not only that, has disparaged my own education and does not even know the very foundations in Greek and Asian philosophy.  I would surprised if he could explain the analogy of “Plato’s Cave” without getting lost in the shadows, so to speak… and yet, he considers himself a great teacher and wonders why people blew off his classes.  Fact.  My husband also got him the job because he FAILED the personality test, then stole dozens of hours of Kung Fu lessons from my husband without compensation or fair exchange.  That is the fault of my husband; who was naive enough to allow it to happen.  Get with me; less naive, then the status quo changes.   Enjoy modifying your teaching style to your flavor of the week of people immensely more successful than you dyslexic, insecure, vitriolic fool.   If Yoga and macrobiotics are so good for you; please do, then, explain how your hairline continues to recede.  Unless you have compensated for that as well by explaining it gives your “Third eye more room to breathe.”

Fact #3.  Anti-Lokeans with no sense of humour.  My facebook audience is comprised of friends…and once it was friends and you.   So, we have a priestess and her oaf of a husband who have more reputation behind spreading rumors than they do for any positive influence they have contributed to the community.  Nice.  Enjoy holding fainings in bowl-o-rama’s and Starbucks’- Oh, wait, I forgot- nothing remotely Heathen is discussed at such events, but rather, it would be better served to be renamed the “Berks’c County Science Fiction Appreciation Society.”

Also-  A kindred with three people is a “Triad” not a “Kindred”.  Ed has debated appearing at one of your events for “old time’s sake” to see how you would all react to the “Great Necromancer” you have built him up to be- however, time is scarce when he is home as it is.

When I first moved to Reading I found my life to be entirely different- ignorance was bliss I suppose.  I didn’t lack for activity (we also had two cars then).  First after dealing from the backlash of the Dishonorable Oathbreaking Whore who shared her home with my husband and was upset I ruined her delusional plans to leave her husband for Ed.  Question:  If you want to leave your husband, why not leave him FIRST then pursue other men?   This is also a GREAT question for the other Oathbreaking whore I know.

Fact #4  I don’t like Oathbreakers.  At all.   I have had to single handedly combat the false stereotype of Lokeans everywhere being considered Oathbreakers by nature.  Loki is no Oathbreaker, I believe you have Him confused with Odin.  Where now there is a psuedo-academic running around on her new husband, making a huge show of it to the point where it is obvious to anyone with eyes, and I am told *I* should reach out to reconcile with the very thing that I myself am Oathed to combat?  Sweetheart,  being a Lokean doesn’t give your carte blanch to be a liar, nor a whore.   If you want to be a whore, Great!  I have no problem with whores, but don’t lie about it- release your husband from his contract made in bad faith, unpoison your well of Wyrd, and live polyamourously.   I don’t care how many papers you write, or how many events you create.

Oathbreaker, Oathbreaker, Oathbreaker.

I call you out and your community knows you.  Your husband is a hero and you are a little child pretending to be a woman pretending to be a edgy eternal collegiate whore.  I do not absolve you of your lies to me.  You did not break your oath by “Falling in love” with another man.  You broke your marriage vows by revolving your life around a man who is not your spouse.  Your kinsmen is little better for not confronting you directly as he oathed to US, but instead began the rumor mill surrounding you.   Keep proving to yourself you are clever enough to be a Lokean, but I don’t see it.
In fact, you are DIRECTLY IN MY WAY OF FULFILLING MY OATH TO IMPROVE LOKI’S REPUTATION AND THE REPUTATION OF THOSE WHO WORSHIP HIM, (Therefore, I have a right to be a little pissed off.)

So, anyway, back to Reading.  This place is a cesspool of twisted fucks, backstabbers, and pretentious fools with more money than sense- especially in Wyomissing.   I want change, but I am stuck here for an entire year more.  I have dipped my toes into the pool of other communities, but time constrains me, as does lack of transport as well as attempting to live without marijuana as a promise to my spouse until it is legalized, sadly, most communities that interest me are woven together with hemp threads which forces me to be more wary than I would like.

Do you want to know my flaws?  Read my blog, I have listed them repeatedly-  I am a judgemental Tyrian with severe anxiety disorders seeking treatment.  I worry too much, I think more than I should and I trap myself in my own mind more often than I like.  But I am no liar, no Oathbreaker, nor am I twisted, hidden, or grossly attempting to hide my shame behind false legitimacy.

I seek help when I need it, and I admit when I’m wrong.  But after 31 years- let’s expedite this process a bit.  Instead of waiting a few years for the issues to have evaporated before you come before me with your hearts in your hands and your apologies, I challenge you to do it now- while things are still fresh, and I will take the parts pertaining to you down.

Little Lokeans, watch and learn.  THIS is flyting, and this is how to be a true Lokean.  Not by being deceptive, but by being the firelight before the mirror that exposes the weak to their own selves to where they cannot close their eyes and look away.

You know who you are.  I am bored, what better reason is there than that to stir things up a bit?  Also, I am in desperate search for a LEGITIMATE, kind Yoga studio, not in a gym, that does not charge an arm and a a leg for at least 3+ sessions per week.  If you are aware of one in Berks county, please advertize in the comments below.  There is no reason why yoga outside of this area goes for $60 a month and under- but here it averages to around $100 for the privilege of existing in this shitpit called Reading, Pa.

🙂

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.