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Unintended hiatus…

Okay, apologies for the hiatus which wasn’t intended at all. I hit something of a spiritual crisis. I won’t really go into it, but I’m slowly starting to find my way back, as it were. Hopefully the semi-regular posting I did before will resume.

Also, where I’m staying right now, I’ve seen five spiders in less than a day. It’s nice to know Loki’s keeping an eye on me. With any luck, I’ll be back on track soon. I hope. In the meantime, I’ll be sorting everything out, and will try to blog when I can.

‘Til then, lovelies.

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I’m back!

Okay, so I haven’t really posted much over the past few weeks, due to it being exam season. Loki, much to my gratitude, pretty much let me alone during that time, with no pranks, only nudges if I was getting too distracted and pushing if I felt like giving up. He was still there if I needed Him, but He knew as well as I that these exams were extremely important.

However now my exams are over, He’s slipped back into my life with ease, as have His family. It was nice to be talking with friends during lunch and then suddenly seeing Fen (-rir, that is) sitting and watching me. Loki often sends Him to see how I’m doing; I get on pretty well with His son.

An interesting thing that happened was that I lost my pentagram during exams, and it made me very uneasy. I didn’t feel right without it. I searched everywhere for it and never found it. I was so annoyed and a little upset. But during the middle of one night I half-woke up, shifted my hand under the pillow and felt something. I pulled the thing out, and sleepily realised it was my pentagram. I knew Loki had put it there, because there was no way I would have. I smiled, thanked Him and promptly went back to sleep.

In the morning I had completely forgotten about it till halfway through getting dressed – and when I did, I couldn’t remember whether it was a dream or not. So I ran up to my room, looked at my bedside table – and there it was. Right there, where I’d put it during the middle of the night.

Happy days.

Singing and slaps

I have no idea why, but when Paramore’s ‘The Only Exception’ came on on iTunes, I instantly thought of Loki. No idea why; he just popped into my mind. 

“Oh, and I’m on my way to believing…”

Actually, thinking about it, I can kind of link the song to my crisis of faith before Loki swept into my life. I communicate a lot with Loki via songs, so it makes sense. Sometimes I’ll sing, and I’ll feel His happiness. I’m not the greatest singer in the world, but I can hold a tune. And that’s all I need. He Himself has a gorgeous voice, smooth and lilting. It’s nice to randomly hear Him humming or singing; it usually always manages to put a smile on my face. 

It never ceases to amaze me how cheerful, how positive He can be when I think about all that He’s gone through. And it inspires me to live. Just live. Because even if something bad happens, even if it feels like the end of the world – it will get better. Always. That’s one of the things He’s taught me, and I’m eternally grateful for it. He never lets me wallow, never lets me moan or mourn unnecessarily – if I do, I get a mental (although once it was physical) slap and a ‘wake up!’ 

Gods, I love Him. I’m so glad He chose to stick around. 

That is the question.

And if I’m honest, for me it’s a not. I rarely celebrate any set-date rituals, partly because I have never felt the need to.

(Also this week there’s been torrential rain, which ruined my plans to go out and lie in the park. Communing with nature is pretty much the extent of my rituals. If you can call it that.)

But I just… I’ve never truly wanted to use candles or recite incantations or cast circles or do anything which is usually considered ritualistic (yes I’m generalising, don’t shoot me, okay?). I prefer to acknowledge my deities with a few quiet words, and it’s never routine. I will put out sweet foods for them sometimes, and I will light incense on occasion.

Yet what is most meaningful to me is to establish a personal connection with the gods I know and love. They may only stay for a while, but I like to welcome them even if they leave soon after. Emotions and conversation are very important to me.

Another reason why I don’t use many ritual tools and items is because I can’t. I am mildly disabled; I have a form of cerebral palsy which weakens my left side, and makes me clumsy. Loki has all but banned me from trying to light candles for any deities (and any time I went against his wish, I always came up against an obstacle… *sigh*).

But back to the point. Set dates have never seemed very important to me. I prefer to commune with spirits and deities when it feels right, when I want to and they want to. I celebrate events and meanings when I sense a need to. I like being surprised with the desire to honour my gods and beliefs, not feel as though I have to do so upon a certain date. It ruins the excitement for me; it doesn’t feel special.

I’ll most likely hail my beloved gods or my personal faith tomorrow. Or the day after. Or maybe even in a few minutes. It’s all about individual wishes and my own timing for me.

After all, since Loki came into my life, routine’s gone out the window *grin*.

If you go to a friend or relative’s house, do any of you carry your tools or books with you?

I didn’t. And I wish I had.

It happened Saturday night. I was staying with my aunt, and it was about half midnight. I was lying in bed, all warm and curled up, when I suddenly got a horrifically bad feeling. I was so scared, more than I’d ever been in my life, and I could feel there was something in the room with me. But I was afraid to the point where I couldn’t even open my eyes. I had no salt water, no sage oil, nothing. I didn’t even have my pentacle, on account of not wanting suspicious questions about it. I had my runes, but they were across the room, and there was no way I was getting out of bed. I was shaking, and was calling out to Loki.

Looking back, I wish I hadn’t been so frightened. I wish I could have told the entity to fuck off. But I was frozen. Loki arrived, and duly banished whatever it was. He lay next to me on the bed, trying to soothe me. Yet it was around ten minutes before I could open my eyes even a little. He must have done something, because I started to feel calmer, to the point where I didn’t feel the need to keep my eyes shut.

I don’t know what it was. But it wasn’t a spirit of the house, I know that.

Lesson learned. I’m taking something with me wherever I go. And I’m never not taking/wearing my pentacle. Ever.

***

(PS: Also, I’m sorry for not doing the G posts for PBP. I just haven’t been inspired enough to write them. Apologies!)

 

This is horrifically late, I know. I do apologise.

I wanted to talk about faith. Specifically, of course, religious faith. What is it that causes us to have it? Do we follow blindly, or do we have solid reasons?

I never truly felt faith until I heard the call of the gods. I never honestly knew what it was to honour deities, to trust a path until the Norse gods came into my life. When I was first starting out along the pagan path, I was delving deep into Wicca. Being wholly new and hence more than a little naive, I thought then that everyone had to have a patron god, and I will admit that it stressed me out a little. I felt rushed to have one. What I didn’t realise was that gods would not instantly come the minute I fell into paganism.

My first encounter with a deity came a couple of months after I began reading into Wicca. The deity in question was Herne. He aided me a little, but did not stay long, and soon disappeared.

After this, my interest in Wicca and paganism on a whole waned. I had not understood that gods did not always stay for extended periods of time, and I felt unwanted. My fascination lessened for around half a year.

That was, until I began to feel drawn to paganism once more. This time, wiser than before, I trod carefully, not wanting to rush headlong into anything. I discovered that Wicca was not the only path, that paganism had many threads and roads I could travel along. And so, I looked into the concepts that I felt most drawn to, ones that I wanted to embrace. This I duly did, and continued to shape my path as I grew.

I still did not know where I was going in relation to deities. I wanted to believe in them, but having had no signs or hints that they existed, I couldn’t. I had always been agnostic, but now I wanted something more. Yet I buried it, thinking nothing would ever come of my longing.

Fast-forward a few months to November 2011.

A deity hit me like a storm.

Loki.

He had left several signs which, looking back, made it fairly obvious who was trying to catch my attention. After I called Him out on it, hardly daring to believe it actually was Him, well, that was when the fun started.

And He hasn’t left since.

We had fights and arguments, and several occasions of Him telling me not to doubt. I was finding it hard to believe, despite having wanted to for, realistically, years. Loki is not one to naturally tread gently, and I was thrown straight into the deep end, as it were. He turned my spiritual life on its head. I had never had any deities to hold faith in, and all of a sudden the Norse pantheon was descending on me like a hurricane. I couldn’t turn away even if I had wanted to, I was so drawn to Them. Loki’s family in particular opened Their arms wide to me, and it still amazes me that They’re not bored of me yet!

So why I do I have faith in these gods of mine?

Well.

I just do. I see Them, hear Them, and on occasion am able to touch Them. Knowing that, knowing that They exist, how can I simply turn my back and throw it all away?

The answer is simple.

I can’t.

And I honestly don’t want to.

If anyone can help at all, please do!

 

I’ve always felt drawn to cats.

I’ve no idea why, but I am. My neighbours have two black cats, and whenever I babysit there the cats pester me for attention, jumping up onto my lap and purring once I start stroking them.

So maybe it makes sense that I’m slightly drawn to Bast, the feline Kemetic goddess. Hmm.

I definitely have an affinity for those of the feline inclination; cats always rub my ankles and purr whenever I’m near. Dogs, eh, not so much…

But seriously. I love cats. Cats are amazing.

And I’m undoubtedly going to adopt a little kitty after university.

About five or so days ago, Loki and I found ourselves on a plane somewhere. Astral, that is, not an actual flying contraption. We hadn’t done this in a while, both of us having distractions and problems to deal with. But I was lying on my bedroom floor, and I found myself sinking into a trance.

I was walking through woods, and all of a sudden He was there. Dressed in a poet’s shirt and breeches (oh, how typical…) and off we went.

What seemed like hours later – I’ve really no idea about time where we always go  – we stumbled across a couple in the woods. They were dancing, a golden-haired man, a dark-haired woman, and they hadn’t noticed us behind the trees, watching them. They were so, so happy, laughing and smiling, and as I looked at the man, Loki whispered in my ear.

Baldr.

I knew then that the pale-blond man I’d seen before, the one who’d been so terrifying,  was not Baldr.

“It wasn’t him, was it?” I asked softly. Loki shook His head.

“No, my love. It wasn’t.”

With that, He took my hand and led me away from Baldr and his companion.

***

I was attacked by an entity, not a god. Yup. I finally know the truth.

And soon after I left the plane, I apologised to Baldr, feeling absolutely terrible. We’re all good now, thank gods.

I’m glad that I actually understand what it was. It had me on edge, not knowing what the thing truly was.

Sigh of relief right there.