Járnviðr

Sage of darkness, Sapient of the otherworld, Matron of decay, Empress of demise, Breath born of lies and deceit. Bathed in the moonlight of the Ironwoods, Embers of the blackened heart sustain, The outcast find sanctuary, welcomed, accepted, embraced, We find ourselves in your presence. Eternal Mother, Guardian of the Exiled,  Matron of Rejects, Lady of the forsaken, We find community in desolation. Illuminating the darkness with fires of defiance, The wolf and the serpent envelop us, Pain, sadness and discontent burns away, Trees of the Ironwood protect us, Hope, ambition, rebellion are left in the ashes, The pale face of death reminds us there is still work to be done. We are needed, we are loved and we belong.  Hail Gullveig, wise one, old one, first one.  Hail Angrboða, bright one, loud one, fierce one.

The Edda's, a Heathens primary source of mythic information. Most of what we know today of the Gods, their worlds and their adventures is found in the Edda's, and lets be real we wouldn't have the works of J.R.R. Tolkien if not for them and that alone should raise the importance of this work 10 fold. I'll start by saying what this isn't. This isn't a biography on the very interesting life of famed lawmaker Snorri Sturluson (read 'Songs of the Vikings' by Nancy Marie Brown for that, it's excellent). This isn't an examination of translations we read today, the Christian influence or detailing and examining the contents of the poems themselves. It's merely an overview of  where  and  when they came from, mainly for a couple of reasons; I think there is already a healthy discussion out there about the politics of the myths and detailing all that nuance is one hell of a job, and I'm not getting paid to do this, and there seems to be a confusio...

Introduction We gather here to pay reverence to an understated but significant goddess, Angrboða. The protector of the protectors, cultivator of the powerful, and devoted mother to her children. Fostering strength and guardianship for those who safeguard the realms, defining what it is to shield and defend. Angrboða is the very essence of strength itself. In contrast to the ordered and predictable world of the Aesir gods, Angrboða embodies the untamed aspects of the world and reminds us of the wild and often dangerous nature of existence, and in that we find perspective and solace. Ode Angrboða, mother of night, from the darkest of shadows you shine so bright. Your nature is chaotic, fierce and wild, Resembling endearing qualities of a child. Simple and pure, without morals guiding course Enigmatic and potent, nature's vital force. You and your children they say are untamed Yet throughout all the stories, they still whisper your name. You gave us the serpent, protectively circling ...

After writing stuff about historical jotun worship, I thought I'd do a more broader piece on the subject of historicity within Heathenry. This isn't a research topic or anything interesting like that, more of an editorial (I'm not sure what that really means, but it sounds super smart, so I'm going with it) and commentary on practices that are not "historical." We see so often, people getting all mad and flustered when it comes to any sort of practice that isn't "historic." Why is that? Is it the little bitch recons that get all whiny and cry "not historical, no place names blah blah" when someone's worships Loki, or when the topic of the Vegvísir or the Helm of Awe (Ægishjálmr) comes up in whatever context and it just has to be pointed out that it is Christian. The trolls cross is totally modern. You get the point.  Average redditor depicted when discussing non historical practice. Now sometimes some of these arguments are valid in...

Pierced by a raven I am to blame A life time bitten by the flame I'll bring them to an ending they'll pray and ask forgiveness The colours are unending  Scorched my heart, I put my soul In darkness the fear comes and seeks me Questions fill the fire you'll never rise all that remains I am of scars Marked with the spear of deceit Torn of the bone Disgraced the dust of me Shadow my past With the love and losses I felt Darkness within can you save me from myself I am of fire Burning the flame of the three Pulled from the ground Deceived the dust of me Charred my heart Dread and sorrow will be dealt  Darkness within  can you save you from myself The junction of emotion Driven by devotion Nothing can stand in the way One from the ocean  A wave of commotion  Washing the hammer away Wailing like a siren Emerging from the Iron Hunting the one who betrayed Blood for the tyrant Enacted by a giant  A deed has now been repaid A child half dead Fills divinity with dread...

This one might be seen as a little bit of a spicy one although its not intended to be, just some people have opinions about worshipping the big bad giants because they are evil and inviting that into your praxis and lives will somehow bring on the end of the world as we know it. Little bit dramatic but it’s rhetoric I see time and time again. One of the cornerstones of this argument is that it is not historical. Well lets see if we can shed some light on that and see if that statement is true, or perhaps * clutches pearls * people of ye olden days were not that much different to us and worship was as diverse as it is today. I came across this paper written in ancient times, when phones were hard wired and used for talking, American Ninja was peak cinema and watching it involved riding your BMX to the local blockbuster and hoping someone hadn't already rented it, mixed tapes consisting of UB40, Eurythmics and Phil Collins and were the best way to win a love interests heart. The year...