Okay, so over the last couple of years, I have complained repeatedly about living in the 'burbs. The transit sucks, there isn't as much "going on," I'm a lot further from many of my friends, which has had the effect of losing touch with many of them, etc.
This post isn't about that. See, for as much as I loved living in the city proper, there was always one thing lacking: Christmas lights. Sure, some homes and apartments would put some up, but not very many, and the city itself never seemed to. However, in the suburban municipality where I now find myself, it's a very different story... there are lights everywhere. The city has garland strung above the roads along the telephone wires, park trees have lights all over them - and just about every third house (so far this year) is well lit. Even the Hindu family next door has lights strung and a Christmas tree set up in the front window. For that matter, there are a lot of families from the subcontinent of India, and a great many of them have very well-lit houses. Some put them up for Vaisakhi, but more of them waited until just these last couple of weeks.
Makes you re-think some of the pagan stances on the holidays.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Bardry..?
I have been listening to a lot more music lately, than I have in recent years. Being given an MP3 player by a friend, as well as having this new computer upon which to keep music, has particularly helped.
So I was ripping some of my CDs the other day, and came across one called TAP into Tradition, which was put out by Alexander Keith's beer. Basically it's a bunch of East Coast Celtic stuff. Awesome stuff, mostly. The CD begins with the song Barret's Privateers, a beautiful piece performed with just voice and bodhran. I got to thinking - I've got a bodhran, and have been looking for stuff just like this to learn and maybe play with Stardancer (though I wouldn't play this one with her - the chorus begins with "God damn them all") or perform at events.
I even offered to my gods (in this case Thunor and Ing) to do this, and to do it in their honour. They seemed to really like the idea.
Now I am hunting out the lyrics for songs that I can play with just my drum as accompaniment. Great Big Sea has a lot, and there are a lot of good Irish pieces out there, but I don't want everything to be Irish, after all. I am looking for other good stuff, and I will be putting together a songbook to play from while I memorize the lyrics. So far I have "Barret's Privateers" by Stan Rogers, "The Scolding Wife" performed by Great Big Sea (though I did not see a writer's credit..?), and "Hal an Toe," which is an English traditional song for May Day. Oh, and my own "Down by the Fire to Pray." One friend sent me a link to a page with hundreds of traditional songs that the SCA uses, so I will be going over that as time goes on.
Any other suggestions?
So I was ripping some of my CDs the other day, and came across one called TAP into Tradition, which was put out by Alexander Keith's beer. Basically it's a bunch of East Coast Celtic stuff. Awesome stuff, mostly. The CD begins with the song Barret's Privateers, a beautiful piece performed with just voice and bodhran. I got to thinking - I've got a bodhran, and have been looking for stuff just like this to learn and maybe play with Stardancer (though I wouldn't play this one with her - the chorus begins with "God damn them all") or perform at events.
I even offered to my gods (in this case Thunor and Ing) to do this, and to do it in their honour. They seemed to really like the idea.
Now I am hunting out the lyrics for songs that I can play with just my drum as accompaniment. Great Big Sea has a lot, and there are a lot of good Irish pieces out there, but I don't want everything to be Irish, after all. I am looking for other good stuff, and I will be putting together a songbook to play from while I memorize the lyrics. So far I have "Barret's Privateers" by Stan Rogers, "The Scolding Wife" performed by Great Big Sea (though I did not see a writer's credit..?), and "Hal an Toe," which is an English traditional song for May Day. Oh, and my own "Down by the Fire to Pray." One friend sent me a link to a page with hundreds of traditional songs that the SCA uses, so I will be going over that as time goes on.
Any other suggestions?
Recent events
So recently I was contacted by someone I most definitely did NOT want to be contacted by on FB. I don't want contact with this individual at all, but FB was the medium chosen. One of the comments they made, though, seemed to refer to a blog entry from a year or so ago (which would make it on LJ). Nevertheless, between this and their "offering" to look up my number and phone me, I was rather worried. So I have now, at this point gone back through my entire Livejournal account, and locked the majority of the posts up so that they are readable only by those on my "Friends" list (similar to FB, really). There's still a lot of stuff publically readable, but it's mostly articles, etc, not my personal life or reflections.
An interesting side effect was getting a look at all of my old posts. One thing that really stood out for me was in one of the very forst posts. I was discussing the "Patron Gods" dream that led me to a Germanic path in my Druidry - only the dream had been the night before the post was written, which means there were details that I had since forgotten. They were rather enlightening to see, really, and reflect upon.
Anyway, back to the point, here. This newfound caution with what I have written naturally extended to this blog as well - especially since I had put a link to it recently, along with an invitation, in my LJ. So some thought has been put into it. What does this blog want to be? At first it was for some of my more personal observations, with the thought that it would be easier for a couple of my friends, who use Blogger, not LJ, to follow. Perhaps a bit naive, I know, but I assumed that Blogger worked similar to LJ, with lockable posts, Friends lists, etc. Now I know that you either lock the entire blog to all but your friends, or you leave it open. But it's measured by the whole blog, not on a post-by-post basis.
Hm. this explains why Fourleaf deleted her words, rather than merely lock them up.
So if everything I write here must be public, then a certain caution must be placed upon it. It can be easy to forget that caution, honestly, and in the meantime I have continued using LJ, and locking things as I go. Sorry, gang. But what of the ol' Blogger account? Well, my articles have been mostly getting put up in LJ, lately (though there haven't been many), since that was set up to be my ADF log, and they were written largely for that purpose. Personal stuff ought to be less public, more lockable. Hm.
But not all personal stuff need be. Hence this entry. Some of what I write can and should still be viewable, I think. I considered moving some of the more personal entries from here, over to LJ, but the time date stamp thing kind of blocked that idea (I wonder if I can change the date on a post there...?). So this journal remains, warts and all. It's not as though I didn't suffer another recent attack over there, as well, anyway, over something publicly posted.
Basically, I had attended an event, then written a review of it. While I didn't think I was being horribly unkind in it, I did write it as honestly as I could, and I suppose one or two things I said could be seen as rather unkind. Well, the post was found and read by a friend of the event's hostess, who attacked me in the comments field, then sent the link to the hostess herself and one other friend of theirs. The hostess was most upset, and also unleashed a verbal barrage upon me, but the other friend, who also commented, was more reasonable in his comments. So I locked the post up. Sigh.
The hostess and her friend also cut me from their FB lists.
The upshot of this is that I need to be more.. cautios with my words, I suppose, though I thought I had made clear that my observations were purely my own experiences.
So that is where things stand at the moment.
An interesting side effect was getting a look at all of my old posts. One thing that really stood out for me was in one of the very forst posts. I was discussing the "Patron Gods" dream that led me to a Germanic path in my Druidry - only the dream had been the night before the post was written, which means there were details that I had since forgotten. They were rather enlightening to see, really, and reflect upon.
Anyway, back to the point, here. This newfound caution with what I have written naturally extended to this blog as well - especially since I had put a link to it recently, along with an invitation, in my LJ. So some thought has been put into it. What does this blog want to be? At first it was for some of my more personal observations, with the thought that it would be easier for a couple of my friends, who use Blogger, not LJ, to follow. Perhaps a bit naive, I know, but I assumed that Blogger worked similar to LJ, with lockable posts, Friends lists, etc. Now I know that you either lock the entire blog to all but your friends, or you leave it open. But it's measured by the whole blog, not on a post-by-post basis.
Hm. this explains why Fourleaf deleted her words, rather than merely lock them up.
So if everything I write here must be public, then a certain caution must be placed upon it. It can be easy to forget that caution, honestly, and in the meantime I have continued using LJ, and locking things as I go. Sorry, gang. But what of the ol' Blogger account? Well, my articles have been mostly getting put up in LJ, lately (though there haven't been many), since that was set up to be my ADF log, and they were written largely for that purpose. Personal stuff ought to be less public, more lockable. Hm.
But not all personal stuff need be. Hence this entry. Some of what I write can and should still be viewable, I think. I considered moving some of the more personal entries from here, over to LJ, but the time date stamp thing kind of blocked that idea (I wonder if I can change the date on a post there...?). So this journal remains, warts and all. It's not as though I didn't suffer another recent attack over there, as well, anyway, over something publicly posted.
Basically, I had attended an event, then written a review of it. While I didn't think I was being horribly unkind in it, I did write it as honestly as I could, and I suppose one or two things I said could be seen as rather unkind. Well, the post was found and read by a friend of the event's hostess, who attacked me in the comments field, then sent the link to the hostess herself and one other friend of theirs. The hostess was most upset, and also unleashed a verbal barrage upon me, but the other friend, who also commented, was more reasonable in his comments. So I locked the post up. Sigh.
The hostess and her friend also cut me from their FB lists.
The upshot of this is that I need to be more.. cautios with my words, I suppose, though I thought I had made clear that my observations were purely my own experiences.
So that is where things stand at the moment.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Isaac Bonewits
By now I'm sure you've heard - Isaac Bonewits is dead. He died Thursday morning at roughly 08:00 ET. There have been a lot of people writing of his life, several obituaries, and a lot of personal observations floating around the Web since then.
Mine falls into the last category.
I never met the man. I live on the opposite coast, and in a different country, than he did. I would like to have met him, but it didn't happen, and now never will. I was first introduced to his work maybe five years ago, when I found a copy of Real Magic in a used bookstore. I was excited, but also a bit sceptical. I picked it up, though, and began to read it (still haven't finished), and found it good.
Then a friend of mine joined ADF, and invited me to join as well. Again, I looked at it with a certain scepticism (this is not like me, not at that time. If it was druidic, I was interested in those days, and tended to jump in with both feet). There was something... different here. I couldn't quite place my finger on it but it didn't feel quite the same as other stuff I'd looked at in the past.
In the end, I joined, and have bought several other of Isaac's books. I found his writing style to be casual, friendly and laced with humour. Yet for all the ease of reading he provided, his works are incredibly informative, and more importantly, accurate. This last is something you all too often find lacking in pagan books, so it's a very refreshing thing to find. The scolarship that show in his histories, etc, is as accurate as it can be for the time it was written. He actually did the research.
So, yeah, this has left an impact. And his creation, the ADF, has come to mean so very much to me. I think of myself as a druid (ADF style) before even being a Heathen, though that's more in terms of organizational stuff, because obviously my troth with the gods is with those of my Anglo Saxon ancestors. But that's okay, because he made it a Pan Indo European organization, not just a Celtic one. His vision was to have a public pagan church organization, and that's what it is.
He has gone on, now, to the Halls of his ancestors, but to many of us, he is an Ancestor of the heart, one of the Ancient Wise. May you rest comfortably in that Hall, Isaac. Hail, and Farewell!
Mine falls into the last category.
I never met the man. I live on the opposite coast, and in a different country, than he did. I would like to have met him, but it didn't happen, and now never will. I was first introduced to his work maybe five years ago, when I found a copy of Real Magic in a used bookstore. I was excited, but also a bit sceptical. I picked it up, though, and began to read it (still haven't finished), and found it good.
Then a friend of mine joined ADF, and invited me to join as well. Again, I looked at it with a certain scepticism (this is not like me, not at that time. If it was druidic, I was interested in those days, and tended to jump in with both feet). There was something... different here. I couldn't quite place my finger on it but it didn't feel quite the same as other stuff I'd looked at in the past.
In the end, I joined, and have bought several other of Isaac's books. I found his writing style to be casual, friendly and laced with humour. Yet for all the ease of reading he provided, his works are incredibly informative, and more importantly, accurate. This last is something you all too often find lacking in pagan books, so it's a very refreshing thing to find. The scolarship that show in his histories, etc, is as accurate as it can be for the time it was written. He actually did the research.
So, yeah, this has left an impact. And his creation, the ADF, has come to mean so very much to me. I think of myself as a druid (ADF style) before even being a Heathen, though that's more in terms of organizational stuff, because obviously my troth with the gods is with those of my Anglo Saxon ancestors. But that's okay, because he made it a Pan Indo European organization, not just a Celtic one. His vision was to have a public pagan church organization, and that's what it is.
He has gone on, now, to the Halls of his ancestors, but to many of us, he is an Ancestor of the heart, one of the Ancient Wise. May you rest comfortably in that Hall, Isaac. Hail, and Farewell!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Pondering the Gylfagginning
Sacred Feces!
This morning, in order to facilitate my article-writing (which is going slowly, but is still going), I grabbed my Eddas to read on the bus ride in to work. So I began reading the Gylfagginning, and do you know what the first thing I noticed was? Here, let me quote:
"He saw three high-seats one above the other, and a man seated in each of them. Then he asked what names those chieftains had. The man who had taken him inside answered that the one siting on the lowest seat was a king called High One, the next was Just-as-high, and the topmost one was called Third." Jean I. Young, translator.
Do you see it? You may not. Think about the Temple at Uppsala (in Sweden...? Hmmm). Actually, the description of the stronghold he visits is similar, too...
Anyway, inside the Temple, it is described that there were three statues, each placed on high-seats. Odhinn, Freyr, and, on the highest seat, Thor.
Maybe High One, Just-as-high, and Third aren't all Odhinn, after all? Something to ponder...
This morning, in order to facilitate my article-writing (which is going slowly, but is still going), I grabbed my Eddas to read on the bus ride in to work. So I began reading the Gylfagginning, and do you know what the first thing I noticed was? Here, let me quote:
"He saw three high-seats one above the other, and a man seated in each of them. Then he asked what names those chieftains had. The man who had taken him inside answered that the one siting on the lowest seat was a king called High One, the next was Just-as-high, and the topmost one was called Third." Jean I. Young, translator.
Do you see it? You may not. Think about the Temple at Uppsala (in Sweden...? Hmmm). Actually, the description of the stronghold he visits is similar, too...
Anyway, inside the Temple, it is described that there were three statues, each placed on high-seats. Odhinn, Freyr, and, on the highest seat, Thor.
Maybe High One, Just-as-high, and Third aren't all Odhinn, after all? Something to ponder...
Friday, August 6, 2010
The Caffeine Psalm
(Always a favourite...)
Caffeine is my shepherd;
I shall not doze.
It maketh me to wake in Green Pastures;
It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses;
It restoreth my buzz;
It leadeth me in the paths of consciousness for it's name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of addiction
I will fear no Equal (R)
For Thou art with me.
Thy Cream and Thy Sugar comfort me;
Thou preparest a carafe before me in the presence of Juan Valdez;
Thou anointest my day with pep;
My mug runneth over.
Surely richness and taste shall follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the House of Maxwell forever
Amen.
By Ann O. Nymous
Caffeine is my shepherd;
I shall not doze.
It maketh me to wake in Green Pastures;
It leadeth me beyond the sleeping masses;
It restoreth my buzz;
It leadeth me in the paths of consciousness for it's name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of addiction
I will fear no Equal (R)
For Thou art with me.
Thy Cream and Thy Sugar comfort me;
Thou preparest a carafe before me in the presence of Juan Valdez;
Thou anointest my day with pep;
My mug runneth over.
Surely richness and taste shall follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the House of Maxwell forever
Amen.
By Ann O. Nymous
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
America
So I am reading a couple of things at the moment: Tacitus' Germania and this blog entry of my daughter's Godsmother. Together they formed a very interesting realization about my American neighbors, to wit: the modern American shows an incredible similarity to the ancient Germanic peoples.
In her blog post, she talks of the irony of how she is shown incredible hospitality on the one hand, but is asked about what kind of protective measures she is carrying with her as she travels (most of this blog is detailing the travels of a young, beautiful woman on her own in a VW Westfalia). In the Germania, Tacitus states how every adult carries arms, and how hospitality is the greatest of virtues.
Given how the news is always debating about gun control measures, etc, this stuck out as particularly noteworthy. Hm. I wonder how Canada stacks up, with this in mind..?
In her blog post, she talks of the irony of how she is shown incredible hospitality on the one hand, but is asked about what kind of protective measures she is carrying with her as she travels (most of this blog is detailing the travels of a young, beautiful woman on her own in a VW Westfalia). In the Germania, Tacitus states how every adult carries arms, and how hospitality is the greatest of virtues.
Given how the news is always debating about gun control measures, etc, this stuck out as particularly noteworthy. Hm. I wonder how Canada stacks up, with this in mind..?
Friday, July 30, 2010
A Crazy Idea...
So I was just over at FB, looking at my newsfeed in boredom, when I noticed something in the ads in the sidebar. Now, this isn't the first time I've seen this ad, in this medium or another. I've seen other ads for the same thing on TV, for instance. But it made me think. It's a crazy thought. But it might work, and be something to consider in the future.
What is the ad? It's an ad from Okanagan Spring Brewery, wherein they are offering to sponsor peoples' small events. And from the tv ads, at least, that is a pretty open definition.
What is the idea? Sponsorship... for a ritual. A High Day. They make good beer - it would make a pleasing offering to the gods, and the other Kindreds.
Hm.
Worth thinking about...
What is the ad? It's an ad from Okanagan Spring Brewery, wherein they are offering to sponsor peoples' small events. And from the tv ads, at least, that is a pretty open definition.
What is the idea? Sponsorship... for a ritual. A High Day. They make good beer - it would make a pleasing offering to the gods, and the other Kindreds.
Hm.
Worth thinking about...
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
A thought
I had a thought this morning while on the bus. I was looking at an ad for the new Blackberry, and it occurred to me. We "older folk" - which is to say, those of us that grew up before all of the social networking technology came about - can often be heard to say something along the lines of, "When I was young, I would never have posted such and such out there for everyone to see." This, of course, in relation to a lot of the TMI (Too Much Info) photos, Tweets, etc that teens and twentysomethings seem to put all over the 'net.
The fact of the matter is, though - had we been able to, and it were as normalized as it is today - most of us would have. It's a natural thing to want to tell all of your friends about the dumb stuff you just did, or about that really cool thing you just saw, or whatever. And how many times have we wished we could have just taken a picture to show them? The biggest generational difference is that the kids these days (did I really just say that?) actually can. And they haven't yet learned the wisdom to say that maybe they shouldn't.
Just random thoughts from my brain.
The fact of the matter is, though - had we been able to, and it were as normalized as it is today - most of us would have. It's a natural thing to want to tell all of your friends about the dumb stuff you just did, or about that really cool thing you just saw, or whatever. And how many times have we wished we could have just taken a picture to show them? The biggest generational difference is that the kids these days (did I really just say that?) actually can. And they haven't yet learned the wisdom to say that maybe they shouldn't.
Just random thoughts from my brain.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Thoughts on Sif
Most scholars seem to agree that Sif is/was a goddess of agriculture, of the harvest, and/or of the wheat. This theory stems entirely from the myth wherein Loki shaves her head, then has to get the dwarves to make new, golden hair for her. The supporting "evidence" is the fact that she is married to Thor.
This theory doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Sure, there is very little that we know about her, but she does appear in two other places in the lore. One is in the Lokasenna where Loki accuses her of cheating on her husband with himself. A lot of people have put forth the idea that this is why he cut her hair off in the first place. But the other place she is mentioned is the place most often forgotten.
In the Prologue (part III) to his Edda, Snorri tells us that Thor was married to a woman named Sibyl. What does this mean? Well, a sibyl is a prophetess, a seer. What in later Norse lore became known to us as a Volva.
What does this have to do with wheat? Very little, I'm afraid.
I have seen translations of the name Sif give us the name Sib in Old English. Granted, this is only a translation, but it is acknowledged to be related to our modern word sibling, and seems to refer to the fact that her husband, Thor, is related in a stepfatherly way, to her son Ull. Not sure how that fits, but okay.
So, siblings, and prophecy. Now we're getting somewhere. Who else do we know that fits that description? Hint: starts with an 'N' and end with 'orns.' 3 sisters (sometimes called the Wyrd Sisters).
Here's another fun correllation for you: Frigga. The wife of Odhinn. No, I am not saying that the two ladies are one and the same. I hate when people try to correllate dieties down too much that way. But Frigga is considered to be the "Queen of the Norns" by some. Certainly she has a lot to do with fate and is said to know the fates of all things, though she tells none. Perhaps another one of the Wyrd Sisters? It certainly gives us the sibling link in Sif's name (incidentally, the name Frigga means 'beloved').
So to follow this up a bit, let's look at Sif's hubby, Thor. By and large (!) he's much the same as most of the other Indo-Europena sky gods, such as Jupiter, Zeus, etc. The greatest difference is that in Thor's "portfolio" he is not a chieftain or king of the gods. He's got all the rest, though - sky, thunder/storms, justice, law, protection, fertility, etc. So with this in mind, let's look to the wives of these other gods, shall we? Maybe there is something similar to Sif there?
Let's see: Zeus is married to Hera. Most godly ties to Hera, though, are made with Frigga, which makes a certain sense, as they are both the Queen goddesses of their pantheons. As such, Frigga tends to get the "motherly" and "wife" portfolios (though I suppose these might be able to be shared). Jupiter is married to Juno, I believe, though I know very little about her other than that she is also equated to Hera (but most of the Roman dieties are correllated to the Hellenic ones, so much so that most people these days don't even realize that they are in act seperate sets of gods, with often vast differences between them).
I'll continue this train of thought later, though. Feel free to add your own ideas into the comments section below.
This theory doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Sure, there is very little that we know about her, but she does appear in two other places in the lore. One is in the Lokasenna where Loki accuses her of cheating on her husband with himself. A lot of people have put forth the idea that this is why he cut her hair off in the first place. But the other place she is mentioned is the place most often forgotten.
In the Prologue (part III) to his Edda, Snorri tells us that Thor was married to a woman named Sibyl. What does this mean? Well, a sibyl is a prophetess, a seer. What in later Norse lore became known to us as a Volva.
What does this have to do with wheat? Very little, I'm afraid.
I have seen translations of the name Sif give us the name Sib in Old English. Granted, this is only a translation, but it is acknowledged to be related to our modern word sibling, and seems to refer to the fact that her husband, Thor, is related in a stepfatherly way, to her son Ull. Not sure how that fits, but okay.
So, siblings, and prophecy. Now we're getting somewhere. Who else do we know that fits that description? Hint: starts with an 'N' and end with 'orns.' 3 sisters (sometimes called the Wyrd Sisters).
Here's another fun correllation for you: Frigga. The wife of Odhinn. No, I am not saying that the two ladies are one and the same. I hate when people try to correllate dieties down too much that way. But Frigga is considered to be the "Queen of the Norns" by some. Certainly she has a lot to do with fate and is said to know the fates of all things, though she tells none. Perhaps another one of the Wyrd Sisters? It certainly gives us the sibling link in Sif's name (incidentally, the name Frigga means 'beloved').
So to follow this up a bit, let's look at Sif's hubby, Thor. By and large (!) he's much the same as most of the other Indo-Europena sky gods, such as Jupiter, Zeus, etc. The greatest difference is that in Thor's "portfolio" he is not a chieftain or king of the gods. He's got all the rest, though - sky, thunder/storms, justice, law, protection, fertility, etc. So with this in mind, let's look to the wives of these other gods, shall we? Maybe there is something similar to Sif there?
Let's see: Zeus is married to Hera. Most godly ties to Hera, though, are made with Frigga, which makes a certain sense, as they are both the Queen goddesses of their pantheons. As such, Frigga tends to get the "motherly" and "wife" portfolios (though I suppose these might be able to be shared). Jupiter is married to Juno, I believe, though I know very little about her other than that she is also equated to Hera (but most of the Roman dieties are correllated to the Hellenic ones, so much so that most people these days don't even realize that they are in act seperate sets of gods, with often vast differences between them).
I'll continue this train of thought later, though. Feel free to add your own ideas into the comments section below.
Friday, April 16, 2010
A Prayer to the Dawn
This morning as I was headed to the bus stop to begin my hour-and-a-half journey to work, I saw the most beautiful sunrise over the mountains to the (duh!) East. The sky was clear except for some light clouds which were tinged with pink and orange. Around the mountains they were a little misty, but there were two streamers of cloud a little further out. I was inspired, and came up with this:
Hail to the Queen of the Morning
Hail to the Lady of the Dawn
With your orange and pink ribbons fluttering across the sky
As you usher and guide the sun,
Glory of Elves,
As it begins it's journey across the heavens.
Hail Beautiful Morning Lady
Hail Daughter of the Sky
Hail Eostre!
Hail to the Queen of the Morning
Hail to the Lady of the Dawn
With your orange and pink ribbons fluttering across the sky
As you usher and guide the sun,
Glory of Elves,
As it begins it's journey across the heavens.
Hail Beautiful Morning Lady
Hail Daughter of the Sky
Hail Eostre!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Heimdall Article
(From Gylfaginning)
XV. Then said Gangleri: "Where is the chief abode or holy place of the gods?" Hárr answered: 'That is at the Ash of Yggdrasill; there the gods must give judgment everyday." Then Gangleri asked: "What is to be said concerning that place?" Then said Jafnhárr: "The Ash is greatest of all trees and best: its limbs spread out over all the world and stand above heaven. Three roots of the tree uphold it and stand exceeding broad: one is among the Æsir; another among the Rime-Giants, in that place where aforetime was the Yawning Void; the third stands over Niflheim, and under that root is Hvergelmir, and Nídhöggr gnaws the root from below. But under that root which turns toward the Rime-Giants is Mímir's Well, wherein wisdom and understanding are stored; and he is called Mímir, who keeps the well. He is full of ancient lore, since he drinks of the well from the Gjallar-Horn. Thither came Allfather and craved one drink of the well; but he got it not until he had laid his eye in pledge. So says Völuspá:
All know I, Odin, where the eye thou hiddest,
In the wide-renowned well of Mímir;
Mímir drinks mead every morning
From Valfather's wage.
Wit ye yet, or what?
The third root of the Ash stands in heaven; and under that root is the well which is very holy, that is called the Well of Urdr; there the gods hold their tribunal. Each day the Æsir ride thither up over Bifröst, which is also called the Æsir's Bridge. These are the names of the Æsir's steeds: Sleipnir[1] is best, which Odin has; he has eight feet. The second is Gladr,[2] the third Gyllir, [3] the fourth Glenr, [4] the fifth Skeidbrimir, [5] the sixth Silfrintoppr, [6] the seventh Sinir, [7] the eighth Gisl, [8] the ninth Falhófnir, [9] the tenth. Gulltoppr, [10] the eleventh Léttfeti. [11] Baldr's horse was burnt with him; and Thor walks to the judgment, and wades those rivers which are called thus:
Körmt and Örmt and the Kerlaugs twain,
Them shall Thor wade
Every day when he goes to doom
At Ash Yggdrasill;
For the Æsir's Bridge burns all with flame,
And the holy waters howl."
[1. The Slipper.
2. Bright or Glad.
3. Golden.
4. The Starer.
5. Fleet Courser.
6 Silver-top.
7 Sinewy.
8. Beam, Ray.
9. Hairy-hoof.
10. Gold-top.
11. Light-stepper.]
XXVII. "Heimdallr is the name of one: he is called the White God. He is great and holy; nine maids, all sisters, bore him for a son. He is also called Hallinskídi[1] and Gullintanni; [2] his teeth were of gold, and his horse is called Gold-top. He dwells in the place called Himinbjörg, [3] hard by Bifröst: he is the warder of the gods, and sits there by heaven's end to guard the bridge from the Hill-Giants. He needs less sleep than a bird; he sees equally well night and day a hundred leagues from him, and hears how grass grows on the earth or wool on sheep, and everything that has a louder sound. He has that trumpet which is called Gjallar-Horn, and its blast is heard throughout all worlds. Heimdallr's sword is called Head. It is said further:
Himinbjörg 't is called, where Heimdallr, they say,
Aye has his housing;
There the gods' sentinel drinks in his snug hall
Gladly good mead.
And furthermore, he himself says in Heimdalar-galdr:
I am of nine mothers the offspring,
Of sisters nine am I the son.
[1. Ram (Cl.-Vig.).
2. Golden-teeth.
3. Heaven-fells.]
(From Skaldskaparmal)
VIII. "How should one periphrase Heimdallr? By calling him Son of Nine Mothers, or Watchman of the Gods, as already has been written; or White God, Foe of Loki, Seeker of Freyja's Necklace. A sword is called Heimdallr's Head: for it is said that he was pierced by a man's head. The tale thereof is told in Heimdalar-galdr; and ever since a head is called Heimdallr's Measure; a sword is called Man's Measure. Heimdallr is the Possessor of Gulltoppr; he is also Frequenter of Vágasker and Singasteinn, where he contended with Loki for the Necklace Brísinga-men, he is also called Vindlér. Úlfr Uggason composed a long passage in the Húsdrápa on that legend, and there it is written that they were in the form of seals. Heimdallr also is son of Odin.
LXIX. "A man's head is termed thus: [thus should it he periphrased: call it Toil or Burden of the Neck; Land of the Helm, of the Hood, and of the Brain, of the Hair and Brows, of the Scalp, of Ears, Eves, and Mouth; Sword of Heimdallr, arid it is correct to name any term for sword which one desires; and to periphrase it in terms of every one of the names of Heimdallr[2] the Head, in simple terms, is called Skull, Brain, Temple, Crown. The eyes are termed Vision or Glance, and Regard, Swift-Appraising; [they may he so periphrased as to call them Sun or Moon, Shields and Glass or Jewels or Stones of the Eyelids, of the Brows, the Lashes, or the Forehead]. The ears are called Listeners[3] or Hearing; [3]
(From Voluspa – trans by Henry Adams Bellows, [1936],)
27. I know of the horn of Heimdall, hidden
Under the high-reaching holy tree;
On it there pours from Valfather's pledge
A mighty stream: would you know yet more?
[27. Here the Volva turns from her memories of the past to a statement of some of Othin's own secrets in his eternal search for knowledge (stanzas 27-29). Bugge puts this stanza after stanza 29. The horn of Heimdall: the Gjallarhorn ("Shrieking Horn"), with which Heimdall, watchman of the gods, will summon them to the last battle. Till that time the horn is buried under Yggdrasil. Valfather's pledge: Othin's eye (the sun?), which he gave to the water-spirit Mimir (or Mim) in exchange for the latter's wisdom. It appears here and in stanza 29 as a drinking-vessel, from which Mimir drinks the magic mead, and from which he pours water on the ash Yggdrasil. Othin's sacrifice of his eye in order to gain knowledge of his final doom is one of the series of disasters leading up to the destruction of the gods. There were several differing versions of the story of Othin's relations with Mimir; another one, quite incompatible with this, appears in stanza 47. In the manuscripts I know and I see appear as "she knows" and "she sees" (cf. note on 21).]
28. Alone I sat when the Old One sought me,
The terror of gods, and gazed in mine eyes:
"What hast thou to ask? why comest thou hither?
Othin, I know where thine eye is hidden."
29. I know where Othin's eye is hidden,
Deep in the wide-famed well of Mimir;
Mead from the pledge of Othin each mom
Does Mimir drink: would you know yet more?
[28. The Hauksbok version omits all of stanzas 28-34, stanza 27 being there followed by stanzas 40 and 41. Regius indicates stanzas 28 and 29 as a single stanza. Bugge puts stanza 28 after stanza 22, as the second stanza of his reconstructed poem. The Volva here addresses Othin directly, intimating that, although he has not told her, she knows why he has come to her, and what he has already suffered in his search for knowledge regarding his doom. Her reiterated "would you know yet more?" seems to mean: "I have proved my wisdom by telling of the past and of your own secrets; is it your will that I tell likewise of the fate in store for you?" The Old One: Othin. 29. The first line, not in either manuscript, is a conjectural emendation based on Snorri's paraphrase. Bugge puts this stanza after stanza 20.]
46. Fast move the sons of Mim, and fate
Is heard in the note of the Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all who on Hel-roads are.
47. Yggdrasil shakes, and shiver on high
The ancient limbs, and the giant is loose;
To the head of Mim does Othin give heed,
But the kinsman of Surt shall slay him soon.
[46. Regius combines the first three lines of this stanza with lines 3, 2, and I of stanza 47 as a single stanza. Line 4, not found in Regius, is introduced from the Hauksbok version, where it follows line 2 of stanza 47. The sons of Mim: the spirits of the water. On Mini (or Mimir) cf. stanza 27 and note. Gjallarhorn: the "Shrieking Horn" with which Heimdall, the watchman of the gods, calls them to the last battle.
47. In Regius lines 3, 2, and I, in that order, follow stanza 46 without separation. Line 4 is not found in Regius, but is introduced from the Hauksbok version. Yggdrasil: cf. stanza 19 and note, and Grimnismol, 29-35. The giant: Fenrir. The head of Mim: various myths were current about Mimir. This stanza refers to the story that he was sent by the gods with Hönir as a hostage to the Wanes after their war (cf. stanza 21 and note), and that the Wanes cut off his head and returned it to the gods. Othin embalmed the head, and by magic gave it the power of speech, thus making Mimir's noted wisdom always available. of course this story does not fit with that underlying the references to Mimir in stanzas 27 and 29. The kinsman of Surt: the wolf [fp. 21] Fenrir, who slays Othin in the final struggle; cf. stanza 53. Surt is the giant who rules the fire-world, Muspellsheim; cf. stanza 52.]
***
So here we're beginning to see a bit of a pattern. Heimdall is best known to the casual reader - as well as to many of the more learned scholars - as being little more than the "Watchman of the gods." The Rigsthula, or the Lay of Rig, tells a different story, as well, wherein Heimdall (under the name Rig) goes out into the world and fathers the three "castes" of humankind - the thrall, or labourer; the freeman; and the nobleman. It goes on to tell how he teaches one of the sons of the noble caste the secrets of runelore and magic, at which he comes to excel. Many scholars attribute this lay to Odhinn, however, despite the introduction clearly stating that it is Heimdall the lay is about.
Another heathen scholar I know has drawn connections between Heimdall and Man (no, not humankind. The god Man, son of Tuisto, as discussed by Tacitus in his Germania). While I tend to agree with his conclusions (sorry, I have no link for them), I do think that there's a lot more to the story. Throughout the lore there really isn't a lot about this mysterious god, nor of his cult. But obviously he was seen by the ancients as being a god of great importance, if he is the father of humankind (or at least of humanity's social structures). I think that the above quotes quite nicely illustrate some of this importance, perhaps even a heretofore unknown byname.
In short, Heimdall is Mimir. The god Odhinn goes to to gain wisdom is the same as the god who watches over Asgard. It also gives a different take on the term "sons of Mim." In the footnotes above, it tells us that the term is used to refer to the spirits of water. But if Mimir is Heimdall is Rig, then the Sons of Mim would be humankind, giving us a greater role in Ragnarok than previously thought.
The name of his horn, Gjallerhorn, is noted as translating to "Roaring Horn." Despite being stored in the Well, it is generally assumed to be called thus due to the great roaring sound it will make when sounded at the beginning of Ragnarok. But in Sumbel, the "rite of toasting" (my interpretation), one is known to use a drinking horn, and over that horn one brags of their past deeds, their families, etc. Ancestors and gods are honoured over the horn. If the 'Roaring Horn' is the horn of sumbel, this even more strongly supports the idea of Heimdall as Mimir, because it means that he has access to the wisdom of the ancestors - through the well of knowledge.
Okay, I know that my writings on this are a bit rambling, but I needed to get them out there. I'm sure I can rewrite them another time, a bit more concisely.
XV. Then said Gangleri: "Where is the chief abode or holy place of the gods?" Hárr answered: 'That is at the Ash of Yggdrasill; there the gods must give judgment everyday." Then Gangleri asked: "What is to be said concerning that place?" Then said Jafnhárr: "The Ash is greatest of all trees and best: its limbs spread out over all the world and stand above heaven. Three roots of the tree uphold it and stand exceeding broad: one is among the Æsir; another among the Rime-Giants, in that place where aforetime was the Yawning Void; the third stands over Niflheim, and under that root is Hvergelmir, and Nídhöggr gnaws the root from below. But under that root which turns toward the Rime-Giants is Mímir's Well, wherein wisdom and understanding are stored; and he is called Mímir, who keeps the well. He is full of ancient lore, since he drinks of the well from the Gjallar-Horn. Thither came Allfather and craved one drink of the well; but he got it not until he had laid his eye in pledge. So says Völuspá:
All know I, Odin, where the eye thou hiddest,
In the wide-renowned well of Mímir;
Mímir drinks mead every morning
From Valfather's wage.
Wit ye yet, or what?
The third root of the Ash stands in heaven; and under that root is the well which is very holy, that is called the Well of Urdr; there the gods hold their tribunal. Each day the Æsir ride thither up over Bifröst, which is also called the Æsir's Bridge. These are the names of the Æsir's steeds: Sleipnir[1] is best, which Odin has; he has eight feet. The second is Gladr,[2] the third Gyllir, [3] the fourth Glenr, [4] the fifth Skeidbrimir, [5] the sixth Silfrintoppr, [6] the seventh Sinir, [7] the eighth Gisl, [8] the ninth Falhófnir, [9] the tenth. Gulltoppr, [10] the eleventh Léttfeti. [11] Baldr's horse was burnt with him; and Thor walks to the judgment, and wades those rivers which are called thus:
Körmt and Örmt and the Kerlaugs twain,
Them shall Thor wade
Every day when he goes to doom
At Ash Yggdrasill;
For the Æsir's Bridge burns all with flame,
And the holy waters howl."
[1. The Slipper.
2. Bright or Glad.
3. Golden.
4. The Starer.
5. Fleet Courser.
6 Silver-top.
7 Sinewy.
8. Beam, Ray.
9. Hairy-hoof.
10. Gold-top.
11. Light-stepper.]
XXVII. "Heimdallr is the name of one: he is called the White God. He is great and holy; nine maids, all sisters, bore him for a son. He is also called Hallinskídi[1] and Gullintanni; [2] his teeth were of gold, and his horse is called Gold-top. He dwells in the place called Himinbjörg, [3] hard by Bifröst: he is the warder of the gods, and sits there by heaven's end to guard the bridge from the Hill-Giants. He needs less sleep than a bird; he sees equally well night and day a hundred leagues from him, and hears how grass grows on the earth or wool on sheep, and everything that has a louder sound. He has that trumpet which is called Gjallar-Horn, and its blast is heard throughout all worlds. Heimdallr's sword is called Head. It is said further:
Himinbjörg 't is called, where Heimdallr, they say,
Aye has his housing;
There the gods' sentinel drinks in his snug hall
Gladly good mead.
And furthermore, he himself says in Heimdalar-galdr:
I am of nine mothers the offspring,
Of sisters nine am I the son.
[1. Ram (Cl.-Vig.).
2. Golden-teeth.
3. Heaven-fells.]
(From Skaldskaparmal)
VIII. "How should one periphrase Heimdallr? By calling him Son of Nine Mothers, or Watchman of the Gods, as already has been written; or White God, Foe of Loki, Seeker of Freyja's Necklace. A sword is called Heimdallr's Head: for it is said that he was pierced by a man's head. The tale thereof is told in Heimdalar-galdr; and ever since a head is called Heimdallr's Measure; a sword is called Man's Measure. Heimdallr is the Possessor of Gulltoppr; he is also Frequenter of Vágasker and Singasteinn, where he contended with Loki for the Necklace Brísinga-men, he is also called Vindlér. Úlfr Uggason composed a long passage in the Húsdrápa on that legend, and there it is written that they were in the form of seals. Heimdallr also is son of Odin.
LXIX. "A man's head is termed thus: [thus should it he periphrased: call it Toil or Burden of the Neck; Land of the Helm, of the Hood, and of the Brain, of the Hair and Brows, of the Scalp, of Ears, Eves, and Mouth; Sword of Heimdallr, arid it is correct to name any term for sword which one desires; and to periphrase it in terms of every one of the names of Heimdallr[2] the Head, in simple terms, is called Skull, Brain, Temple, Crown. The eyes are termed Vision or Glance, and Regard, Swift-Appraising; [they may he so periphrased as to call them Sun or Moon, Shields and Glass or Jewels or Stones of the Eyelids, of the Brows, the Lashes, or the Forehead]. The ears are called Listeners[3] or Hearing; [3]
(From Voluspa – trans by Henry Adams Bellows, [1936],)
27. I know of the horn of Heimdall, hidden
Under the high-reaching holy tree;
On it there pours from Valfather's pledge
A mighty stream: would you know yet more?
[27. Here the Volva turns from her memories of the past to a statement of some of Othin's own secrets in his eternal search for knowledge (stanzas 27-29). Bugge puts this stanza after stanza 29. The horn of Heimdall: the Gjallarhorn ("Shrieking Horn"), with which Heimdall, watchman of the gods, will summon them to the last battle. Till that time the horn is buried under Yggdrasil. Valfather's pledge: Othin's eye (the sun?), which he gave to the water-spirit Mimir (or Mim) in exchange for the latter's wisdom. It appears here and in stanza 29 as a drinking-vessel, from which Mimir drinks the magic mead, and from which he pours water on the ash Yggdrasil. Othin's sacrifice of his eye in order to gain knowledge of his final doom is one of the series of disasters leading up to the destruction of the gods. There were several differing versions of the story of Othin's relations with Mimir; another one, quite incompatible with this, appears in stanza 47. In the manuscripts I know and I see appear as "she knows" and "she sees" (cf. note on 21).]
28. Alone I sat when the Old One sought me,
The terror of gods, and gazed in mine eyes:
"What hast thou to ask? why comest thou hither?
Othin, I know where thine eye is hidden."
29. I know where Othin's eye is hidden,
Deep in the wide-famed well of Mimir;
Mead from the pledge of Othin each mom
Does Mimir drink: would you know yet more?
[28. The Hauksbok version omits all of stanzas 28-34, stanza 27 being there followed by stanzas 40 and 41. Regius indicates stanzas 28 and 29 as a single stanza. Bugge puts stanza 28 after stanza 22, as the second stanza of his reconstructed poem. The Volva here addresses Othin directly, intimating that, although he has not told her, she knows why he has come to her, and what he has already suffered in his search for knowledge regarding his doom. Her reiterated "would you know yet more?" seems to mean: "I have proved my wisdom by telling of the past and of your own secrets; is it your will that I tell likewise of the fate in store for you?" The Old One: Othin. 29. The first line, not in either manuscript, is a conjectural emendation based on Snorri's paraphrase. Bugge puts this stanza after stanza 20.]
46. Fast move the sons of Mim, and fate
Is heard in the note of the Gjallarhorn;
Loud blows Heimdall, the horn is aloft,
In fear quake all who on Hel-roads are.
47. Yggdrasil shakes, and shiver on high
The ancient limbs, and the giant is loose;
To the head of Mim does Othin give heed,
But the kinsman of Surt shall slay him soon.
[46. Regius combines the first three lines of this stanza with lines 3, 2, and I of stanza 47 as a single stanza. Line 4, not found in Regius, is introduced from the Hauksbok version, where it follows line 2 of stanza 47. The sons of Mim: the spirits of the water. On Mini (or Mimir) cf. stanza 27 and note. Gjallarhorn: the "Shrieking Horn" with which Heimdall, the watchman of the gods, calls them to the last battle.
47. In Regius lines 3, 2, and I, in that order, follow stanza 46 without separation. Line 4 is not found in Regius, but is introduced from the Hauksbok version. Yggdrasil: cf. stanza 19 and note, and Grimnismol, 29-35. The giant: Fenrir. The head of Mim: various myths were current about Mimir. This stanza refers to the story that he was sent by the gods with Hönir as a hostage to the Wanes after their war (cf. stanza 21 and note), and that the Wanes cut off his head and returned it to the gods. Othin embalmed the head, and by magic gave it the power of speech, thus making Mimir's noted wisdom always available. of course this story does not fit with that underlying the references to Mimir in stanzas 27 and 29. The kinsman of Surt: the wolf [fp. 21] Fenrir, who slays Othin in the final struggle; cf. stanza 53. Surt is the giant who rules the fire-world, Muspellsheim; cf. stanza 52.]
***
So here we're beginning to see a bit of a pattern. Heimdall is best known to the casual reader - as well as to many of the more learned scholars - as being little more than the "Watchman of the gods." The Rigsthula, or the Lay of Rig, tells a different story, as well, wherein Heimdall (under the name Rig) goes out into the world and fathers the three "castes" of humankind - the thrall, or labourer; the freeman; and the nobleman. It goes on to tell how he teaches one of the sons of the noble caste the secrets of runelore and magic, at which he comes to excel. Many scholars attribute this lay to Odhinn, however, despite the introduction clearly stating that it is Heimdall the lay is about.
Another heathen scholar I know has drawn connections between Heimdall and Man (no, not humankind. The god Man, son of Tuisto, as discussed by Tacitus in his Germania). While I tend to agree with his conclusions (sorry, I have no link for them), I do think that there's a lot more to the story. Throughout the lore there really isn't a lot about this mysterious god, nor of his cult. But obviously he was seen by the ancients as being a god of great importance, if he is the father of humankind (or at least of humanity's social structures). I think that the above quotes quite nicely illustrate some of this importance, perhaps even a heretofore unknown byname.
In short, Heimdall is Mimir. The god Odhinn goes to to gain wisdom is the same as the god who watches over Asgard. It also gives a different take on the term "sons of Mim." In the footnotes above, it tells us that the term is used to refer to the spirits of water. But if Mimir is Heimdall is Rig, then the Sons of Mim would be humankind, giving us a greater role in Ragnarok than previously thought.
The name of his horn, Gjallerhorn, is noted as translating to "Roaring Horn." Despite being stored in the Well, it is generally assumed to be called thus due to the great roaring sound it will make when sounded at the beginning of Ragnarok. But in Sumbel, the "rite of toasting" (my interpretation), one is known to use a drinking horn, and over that horn one brags of their past deeds, their families, etc. Ancestors and gods are honoured over the horn. If the 'Roaring Horn' is the horn of sumbel, this even more strongly supports the idea of Heimdall as Mimir, because it means that he has access to the wisdom of the ancestors - through the well of knowledge.
Okay, I know that my writings on this are a bit rambling, but I needed to get them out there. I'm sure I can rewrite them another time, a bit more concisely.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Mmmm Coffee
Oh Coffee Gods,
Oh Coffee Gods,
We worship and adore You.
Oh Coffee Gods,
Oh Coffee Gods,
We worship and adore You.
You make us wake
in sleepy time.
You make our lives
oh so sublime.
Oh Coffee Gods,
Oh Coffee Gods,
We worship and adore You.
Oh Coffee Gods,
We worship and adore You.
Oh Coffee Gods,
Oh Coffee Gods,
We worship and adore You.
You make us wake
in sleepy time.
You make our lives
oh so sublime.
Oh Coffee Gods,
Oh Coffee Gods,
We worship and adore You.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
The Lay of Harbarth
One of my favourite poems in the Elder Edda is the Lay of Harbarth. This is the poem that describes a battle of words between Thor and Odin, wherein Thor is trying to cross a river and comes across a ferryman (Odin in disguise), who taunts Thor and refuses to give him a ride. Being a Thor's man, who doesn't hold with Woden all that much, it might seem ironic that this is a favourite. Scholars generally agree that Odin pretty much gets the better of Thor throughout the whole thing, getting Thor riled up and pissed off at the insults he's hurling. You see, basically, Odin spends the whole time bragging of his glorious deeds, the wars he's fought, the glory gained, the women wooed. Thor, on the other hand, speaks of doing a more basic job - in this case, population control of the ettins, lest they overrun the earth - a job with no real glory in it at all. He basically says to Odin, "Fuck off, I have a job to do."
I find that this typifies the attitudes towards the blue collar worker. There is rarely glory in this type of work, yet it must be done. It doesn't bring with it the prestige of the "shinier" jobs, like office work (which tends to be kind of inglorious as well), acting, etc. But there are many who are more happy doing it than they ever would be in doing those "shiny" jobs. They don't need to be lauded by all and sundry for doing their work - a job well done is enough (though it is nice to point at a building or a stage and be able to say, "I did that.").
I find that this typifies the attitudes towards the blue collar worker. There is rarely glory in this type of work, yet it must be done. It doesn't bring with it the prestige of the "shinier" jobs, like office work (which tends to be kind of inglorious as well), acting, etc. But there are many who are more happy doing it than they ever would be in doing those "shiny" jobs. They don't need to be lauded by all and sundry for doing their work - a job well done is enough (though it is nice to point at a building or a stage and be able to say, "I did that.").
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