Thief of hearts,
you have ransacked
this beggar’s hut,
left me
nothing.
All I see
now
is the print
of your pilfering hand
everywhere.
– Ivan M. Granger
Thief of Hearts November 6, 2009
Book Review: Books of Hours November 4, 2009
The Book of Hours: Prayers to the Goddess and Book of Hours: Prayers to the God represent something of a departure from the norm for Pagan publishing in that they are not “Wicca/Neo-Paganism 101″ texts nor are they compilations of magical correspondenses, tables and spells. These are genuine books of hours arranged for daily, seasonal, lunar, solar and occasional use, and they contain prayers rather than invocations or rituals.
Designed to be used either separately or together, these are primarily intended for a Wiccan audience. Prayers to the Goddess is based around the aspects of the Threefold Goddess and the prayers for Her are meant to be said in the morning, evening and at night. A separate Common of the Moon contains prayers for the Full and New Moons, and the Seasonal Common reflects the eight Sabbats.
Prayers to the God celebrates Him as the Lover of the Goddess and contains daily prayers addressed to the God and meant to be said in the afternoon, as well as solar, lunar and seasonal prayers. Unlike the first volume, this one also contains prayers specifically for men and women. Both books have a selection of assorted prayers for different purposes and an appendix describing a few commonly worshiped Hellenic, Celtic and Egyptian deities.
In modern Wicca and Wiccan-based Neo-Paganism, the Goddess has ascendancy over the God and is often the focus of more devotional and ritual behavior. The author is writing from that standpoint and therefore, the first volume is more of a stand-alone book than the second, where the material addressed specifically to the God isn’t as extensive. However, the real beauty in these two books is that they are meant to be used concurrently, so that one would be praying to the Goddess and God daily at different times, forming a continous round of prayer from morning to night and following the cycles of the Sun, Moon and seasons.
As my housemate pointed out, the one potentially discordant thing about these two books is the different between the tone of the prayers addressed to the Goddess versus those addressed to the God. The former are prayers of reverence and devotion to a universal deity, while the latter are expressed from the point of view of a lover to one’s divine but very particular Beloved. Since the author is a (presumably) heterosexual woman, this makes a certain amount of sense. However, it also limits the usefulness of the prayers somewhat for those who aren’t inclined to view the Goddess and God in these roles. While the author acknowledges this in her preface to Prayers to the God, it would have been nice to see the same approach consistently in both books.
While the theology expressed doesn’t reflect my own beliefs (I’m a hard polytheist and conceive as the gods as separate entities rather than facets of a universal Goddess and God) I do admire the sincerity and devotion that went into the writing of the Books of Hours. The brief prayers are very beautiful, and while some might find the daily affirmations and meditation topics too “New Agey” or simplistic, there is nothing preventing one from using different subjects for these. Additionally, it’s nice that these were conceived by the publisher as quality books intended for many years’ use; they’re hardbound with an attached ribbon marker and parchment endpapers, and printed with an easy-to-read font (but no illustrations). Unfortunately they’re both out of print, but used copies may be found online.
I highly recommend these for Wiccans and Neo-Pagans of that bent who seek to develop a closer relationship with the Goddess and God and who are inclined towards regular devotional practice or monasticism. For others, these books might serve as inspiration for a Book of Hours more relevant to their own tradition or theology.
Book of Hours: Prayers to the Goddess
Book of Hours: Prayers to the God
by Galen Gillotte
2002, Llewellyn Publications
$14.95 (each)
On Monastic Restrictions: Personal Conduct November 3, 2009
I had a much longer entry here which explained why and how I arrived at my guidelines for personal conduct as a monastic. The more I wrote the more explaining I felt I had to do, which made the post even longer and more tedious. I did say I’d explain, however. For those who are curious, I have briefly listed Loki and Hela’s expectations of me as a nun, which I knew would be required of me long before I took my vows.
For all intents and purposes, I’m spoken for. I’m Loki’s priestess-wife and a dedicated, professional monastic, so I don’t date nor am I interested in any other sort of romantic attachment. I simply haven’t got the time, energy or emotional resources for that. As for what (or who) I can and cannot do in regards to sex, that is something I’d rather not discuss here. Suffice it to say that I am not celibate in the sense of never engaging in any sexual activity at all, but I’m not going to be hooking up with anybody new unless my red-haired Interloper decides it’s a good idea and sends someone my way.
I must cultivate total honesty with myself about my motives, reasoning and feelings about everything. Loki’s biggest lesson for His folk is that even if you lie your head off to others, you should never lie to yourself. Being clear about why I say and do the things I say and do is a high priority for me, partly because that kind of awareness fosters wisdom, compassion for others and greater understanding, and partly because understanding why I’m driven to act a certain way might change my mind about acting that way in the first place. Note that this doesn’t require that I refrain from doing anything, just that I’m honest with myself about why I’m doing it.
Being honest with myself also means that I must to be able to accept the consequences of my actions without making excuses or trying to get out of paying the price. Admittedly, that’s not something Loki’s terribly interested in (he does spend a lot of time in the Eddas running away after doing something unwise)…but personal responsibility happens to be something Hela values in those who serve Her. In fact, Loki and Hela are really interested in people who can own their shit in these ways. They don’t seem to mind if you haven’t got all your shit together, but you need to be able to point to it and say, “Yeah, that’s my shit, right over there!”
This is not an uncommon thing to encounter for those on the path to greater understanding; carved above the Oracle of Delphi were the words “Know thyself,” and one of the four corners of the traditional Witch’s Pyramid is “to know” — which I always believed must imply self-knowledge as well as esoteric acumen. The danger with striving for self-knowledge is in becoming too absorbed in your own navel-gazing and sense of your place in the greater scheme of things, which brings me to my next point.
I must remember that it isn’t all about me. I am in service to deities who have Their own agendas as well as Their own existence outside of being my gods. I am in a community (or several intersecting communities, rather) of people with needs and goals which are no less important than mine. I am writing this blog as much for the sake of other Pagans interested in monastic practice as I am for myself. Just because it was my choice to devote my entire life to religious service and devotion doesn’t mean that the results will affect no one else.
That’s it. I don’t have a Rule. I don’t use a set of formal Hours to pray or worship by (although I’m working on augmenting my daily practice with something similar). I haven’t got a set of commandments or rules. I’ve just got my four simple monastic values and I have to use my own judgment about right action. I also have to remain humble enough to understand when my ego is getting in the way. If this sounds too easy or as if I’m trying to cop out of having more stringent requirements, well…all I can say is that living up to these few things is going to take the rest of my life to learn to do even halfway well.
As for how, exactly, I determine “right action,” this is going to sound disrespectful in the extreme, but I often think that those who seek to emulate the Norse gods must be crazy — have they actually read what goes on in the old stories? There’s a good deal of oath-breaking, lying, unprovoked mayhem, cheating and pointless conflict there, and no, Loki isn’t responsible for all of it. I say this without judging Them, of course. The gods do things because that’s how They do things. Not being one of Them, I need to have an ethical way to deal with the world based on the things I value as a human being. I’ll address my personal ethics in a later post. It might be interesting to contrast and compare them with the ethics posts I made about a year ago when I was still trying to take my monastic practice in a direction it was apparently not intended to go.
On Monastic Restrictions: Clothing October 28, 2009
Interestingly, there has been some debate in the last couple of decades about whether or not Catholic nuns should forgo wearing the habit entirely. Some feel that modest clothing and maybe a head covering is enough, while more traditional orders (particularly cloistered ones) have retained the full habit. Since I am neither a member of an established order nor cloistered (nor Catholic) and am a material-world-loving Pagan to boot, theoretically I should be able to wear anything, but that isn’t necessarily the case. As with the dietary restrictions, some of them come from Those whom I serve and some are self-generated.
The question of whether or not Loki and Hela really give a damn what I’m wearing from day to day is beside the point. I don’t bother with specific types of clothing because my connection to Them rests on what I have on at any given time (though you’d be surprised how interested Loki can act about these things). I wear certain clothing items because doing so is the most tangible outward symbol of my vocation — even if no one else recognizes that. It’s kind of like wearing a uniform. It signals to my subconscious that I should strive to be in a certain frame of mind when I’m so attired. Which is every waking hour that I’m active in my household and beyond.
First of all, I’ve been confined to wearing certain colors — red and black, specifically. Red for Loki and the Iron Wood Jotnar, black for Hela and the dead. It is much easier to find decent-looking black clothing than red (or at least, I think so) and therefore the former color predominates in my wardrobe, making me look like the world’s plainest, most impoverished goth. Except for occasional bursts of wistful thinking, experimentation or outward rebellion, I’ve actually been wearing those two colors for years now. I suppose that counts as a fashion rut, but I’ve never been very concerned with being stylish even before I was a monastic.
Which is good, since I’m also wearing some rather unfashionably long skirts. I’m less sure about the reasons for this, but the garments in question tend to be made of sturdy material like twill and in the words of one of my housemates, they look “industrial.” They’re practical and can be layered or thrown on with whatever shirt I happen to have clean and ready to wear. They remind me of a cross between a monk’s cassock and a nun’s habit, which is entirely appropriate for me. I do actually own a cassock which a friend made for me (it’s black with red flames) but it is not very practical for daily wear and might get me stoned to death by hostile preppies if I wore it through Harvard Square.
I’m also covering my hair. I’m currently growing it out after having worn it short and spiky for about eight years and right now it looks tragic, neither long nor short but bushy as hell. Flattened under a bandanna, it’s even more so; when I wake up in the morning I resemble Ludwig van Beethoven and in my head I hear “da da da DAAAA!” each time I gaze into a mirror. However, the reasoning behind this requirement doesn’t have to do with being modest and asexual; it has to do with Loki and me, but I’m not willing to go into the details here. Suffice it to say that some things in my life are reserved for Himself.
Also, I’m in the habit of buying secondhand clothing and looking for organic, fairly traded items whenever possible. This is largely a personal choice based on concerns about waste, environmental sensibilities and the fact that although I’ve not taken a vow of poverty my cash reserves are limited, devotional writing not being a highly paying market. I do find it perversely entertaining to buy Ralph Lauren shirts at the Salvation Army for my monastic uniform (hey, they may even keep me from the aforementioned stoning.)
To my surprise, I was not made to give away my bellydancing costume, maybe because I only dance for Himself (and whoever else happens to be watching). It is hard to bellydance successfully in combat boots, an ankle-length skirt and a T-shirt. Similarly, I have no restrictions against wearing yoga clothes for class, overalls or jeans for certain farm chores, or bizarre costumes for ritual purposes. (I do not regret giving away the neon orange, traffic-cone-shaped hat with CAUTION: VIAGRA IN USE that I wore for a large ritual where I played an archetypal Trickster. It’s times like this when I feel grateful for Hela’s presence in my life, since if it were solely up to Loki, no doubt I’d be required to wear the Viagra cone wherever I went.)
As for jewelry, I have my wedding ring, a copy of a late medieval Icelandic Thor’s hammer with a wolf’s head, and one or two items worn expressly for occult purposes. I don’t wear makeup except as part of a costume, but that’s another thing I’ve been doing for years anyway. All my shoes are black and/or red, too.
So there you have it. There are times when I avidly do not want to wear a skirt, and times when I long to wear something purple or green, and times when I feel like some misguided Grateful Dead burnout wandering around the vegetable garden in a long skirt, T-shirt and bandanna. Shopping for clothing is both easier and harder. On the other hand, when I get dressed I need only put on any one of a number of shirts with one of my skirts, tie my hair up, and I’m more or less ready to go. I don’t have to fuss over my appearance because I look the same every day. I don’t have to worry about whether or not something is appropriate for work because I don’t work an office job. I don’t care about whether or not people think I dress funny because A) I do, and B) I know the reasons I’m doing it. As with any monastic practice, wearing particular items of clothing is best done with an open mind and a clear sense of why.
Pagan Prayer Beads: Another Interpretation October 27, 2009
Galina Krasskova has written an article called “Retooling the Rosary” that might interest Norse-inclined Pagan readers of this blog, particularly those who were raised Catholic and miss the familiarity of the Rosary.
On Monastic Restrictions: Dietary October 24, 2009
This afternoon, I took my life-oath as a monastic. The ceremony was short and to the point, witnessed by ten people and held up in my room (a.k.a. the “Convent of the Red-Haired Interloper and Our Lady of the Pointy Boots,” which is a tongue-in-cheek reference to Loki and Hela). As of now I’m supposed to be living according to the restrictions my gods have placed upon me or which I’ve chosen to follow for my own reasons. The main areas of my life which this affects are clothing, diet and personal relationships. I’d like to talk about these in the next three posts. First, I’ll address food.
In other traditions, the reasons why a monk or nun might live by dietary rules usually have to do with one of two things: transcending the physical body, or avoiding violence against other sentient beings. Sometimes it’s both. My reasons for adopting particular restrictions are somewhat different. I do not believe that killing animals for food is intrinsically wrong, nor do I believe in the mortification of the flesh. I can’t really fast anyway, what with being a diabetic on time-released medication. As with any diet, my success at sticking to the rules will have a great deal to do with how mindful I am.
First, I have decided to swear off refined sugar entirely. Honestly, I should have done this long ago. I am also avoiding artificial sweeteners like aspartame and sucralose, and high fructose corn syrup which I’m convinced is an evil substance anyway (and which is in a shocking number of processed foods). I’ll be using honey or agave in my tea and limiting my consumption of baked goods with these sweeteners or maple syrup in them. Having a bit once in a while won’t hurt me; having sweet things every day eventually will.
I no longer drink alcohol, but that’s nothing new because I’m on medication which interacts badly with liquor. Despite having been a binge drinker in my college and grad school days, I don’t really like booze that much and was never very fond of beer, so this has been an easy thing to give up. I still buy it for offering to my gods, however, and I just pour a bit out on the ground when the horn or cup is passed to me in a ritual. Similarly, I’m swearing off caffeine, as it does me no good — it makes me jittery and keeps me awake at night. Since I can’t drink most sodas because of the sweeteners and am not that fond of coffee, I won’t miss those things — but I will miss my dear friends Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchong. Anybody have tasty herbal tea recommendations?
Any meat, eggs or dairy I consume from now on must not be factory farmed. This was most adamantly “suggested” by Hela, although I feel obligated to obey it for the sake of Frey and Nerthus as well. It might seem odd that a goddess of death would care about such things, but as I perceive Hela to be a parsimonious deity who does not approve of waste, I can see how She would not think highly of an industry that causes animal and human suffering, poisons the water and earth, and is guilty of all manner of unhealthy, underhanded practices. Why Frey and Nerthus would not think highly of all this should be fairly obvious to those familiar with the Vanic deities.
I do live on a small farm and the meat, dairy and eggs we produce here are “safe” for me to eat, as is any animal food I can verify beyond the shadow of a doubt was humanely raised without dubious industrial practices. I’ll also not be consuming seafood species that are overfished or come from certain kinds of farms, as my dedication to the sea-gods demands that I treat all Their creatures with respect as well. (The Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch program offers brochures for download that list good and bad seafood choices.) Essentially, what this means is that overall I’ll be eating a lot less meat, eggs and dairy, and that when I go out to eat I’ll mostly have to stick to the vegetarian options.
Along these same lines, I’ll be eating organic and/or local produce whenever possible. If it’s a toss-up between something local and something organic, I’m better off picking the lesser of two evils. How much damage do apples from a partially sprayed apple orchard down the road cause the environment versus organic apples driven in a petrol-belching truck all the way from Oregon? Also, paying attention to what foods are or aren’t in season has been advised. (The Order of the Horae has a page about eating seasonal foods based on a Northern European climate, and eat the seasons has lists of foods that are currently in season, though not necessarily local to everyone). The idea is to think about what I’m doing and make the best judgment I can.
Finally, although this may sound strange, even contraindicative of a monastic point of view, I have to eat at least three decent meals a day. Because of the kind of medication I’m on, I can’t just wake up in the morning, avoid breakfast, eat a snack in mid-afternoon and then overdo it at a late-night dinner — which is what I’ve done most of my life. (Not that that’s good for a person anyway, monastic or not.) So I’ll be endeavoring to stick to a regular meal schedule for the first time in my life. And by “decent meals,” I don’t mean a three-course dinner, a bag of fast food or the meat-and-potatoes model most of us understand. I mean mostly vegetables, some grain and a bit of protein. I’ll have to actually cook more, but it isn’t as if I have an office job, kids or the other responsibilities that prevent most people from cooking meals from scratch these days.
I get a little bit of leeway from these rules on holidays. If I want a piece of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, I can have one without guilt or feeling that I’m breaking the rules. But that’s no excuse for going overboard and stuffing all the cookies within reach into my mouth, or getting smashed on mead at Beltane, or going to McDonald’s on Litha because it’s too hot to cook. Once again, the keyword here is mindfulness. Thinking about where food comes from, how it was raised or grown and what has gone into getting it onto one’s plate might be viewed as a holy act of contemplation for a Pagan concerned with the state of the planet and dedicated to the reverence of nature. I hope to find a new appreciation of the agriculturally-based seasonal cycle of Sabbats by doing all of this.
Of course, I don’t believe all Pagan monastics should abide by these rules. This is what my gods expect of me and what I want for myself. This is how my food choices express my reverence for the earth and the holiness of embodied existence while at the same time being careful not to cause more harm than necessary, to myself as well as to other beings.
Pagan Convent Needs Help! October 21, 2009
There’s an article up at The Wild Hunt about the Maetreum of Cybele, which is apparently experiencing problems with local harassment and religious discrimination.
I had the good fortune to meet Rev. Cathryn a few years ago. She is a sensible, devout and honest woman who has been involved in Paganism for decades. Her Cybelline reconstructionist organization currently runs (to my knowledge) the only brick-and-mortar Pagan convent in the United States.
If you can help the Maetreum find a sympathetic, competent attorney or would like to make a donation to their legal fund, I encourage you to do so. The Maetreum is at the vanguard of modern Pagan monasticism, and it would be a great shame for it to have to close its temple and convent doors over something so pointless and harmful as this.
…You Get What You Need October 10, 2009
Not long after I made the post about being in the grip of acedia, I had an epiphany. The timing doesn’t surprise me. When you’re associated with a deity like Loki, that’s what tends to happen: as soon as you realize what’s actually going on, it changes. Basically, I needed to give the problem of my lack of commitment to my vocation a name and a shape before I could make the final leap into wholehearted dedication.
This was spurred by an incident that took place a few weeks ago. I was present at a ritual where Loki “rode” a human spirit-worker. This means that for a short period of time, He possessed the body of the person in order to interact with those of us present. It is akin to the way Voudon and other Afro-Carribean religionists are “ridden” by the spirits. Indeed, the terminology used by other spirit-workers is often borrowed from those traditions since most other traditions lack vocabulary to describe what is becoming a widespread phenomenon. Anyway, while I was not the person who was the focus of the ritual, I did indeed have some contact with Him. This was only the second time I’d interacted with Loki in the flesh, so to speak, in the six years I have been His. And well…it kind of sucked, actually.
One of Loki’s faces is one that I call “Breaker of Worlds.” This is the unrepentant jerk who eventually killed Baldur and went slowly insane bound in a dark cavern beneath the world, and who is an unpredictable bastard when you call upon Him in that guise and with that expectation. That is not the whole of what Loki is. However, it is a very real part of Him that is often ignored by those Lokeans who view Him as simply a fun-loving prankster or an excuse to try and get away with bad behavior.
I don’t often experience Loki that way; He generally comes to me wearing a different face. But the gods are complex beings, and I know that He is both of these things, more than both of these. I do know the mad, bad and dangerous-to-know Loki, perhaps not as well as I do the one who fills me with both joy and longing. But I know Him.
That knowing made it hurt no less when He walked up and insulted me with a single sentence that went to the heart of many of my personal insecurities about myself. He is deadly accurate and unerringly cruel when He wants to really get to someone. For a moment I was stung. However, instead of breaking down sobbing or walking away in silence and denial, as I might have done before, I simply shrugged and answered “I am what I am.”
I’m not sure where I found the presence of mind to say that, unless it was that I had spent some time before the rite bracing myself for whatever He would do or say, and as He had insisted I attend the ritual in the first place, I knew He’d do or say something to me. Apparently that was the right answer, for to my surprise, Loki didn’t respond or insult me further, and soon went back to what He’d being doing before.
It was a test, I realized later, a small but significant one that made me think harder about why I want to be a nun — as opposed to just calling myself one because it’s what Loki and Hela want. It made me think further about why I am Loki’s consort and what it means to be the wife of a god (one of many mortal spouses, and not the pretentious title some people claim it to be, but a different way of understanding a god or goddess than through other kinds of devotional roles). It made me decide that, rather than passively do whatever I feel They expect me to do, I need to do certain things because I want to. Because it’s right and good that I do them, because I see the need for those things to be done. Because it’s my choice.
I had to choose to really be Loki’s consort, and choose to dedicate my life to Him and to Hela’s service. Even though I’m one of those people whom the gods seemingly picked out of a lineup and informed, “You’re ours.” Even though a great many things in my life as a result have not been not my choice — where I live, what I do for a living, where I spend my money, even what kinds of clothing I wear. Even though I’d already accepted that this was how things were going to be from now on. My choice was key to this — my willingness to embrace my vocation as a monastic and my status as Loki’s wife freely and because I really wanted it, not because I was just doing as I was told.
It seems so obvious now, but like many things, it isn’t so obvious when you are too close to see the whole picture and can only make out the details right in front of your face. In some way, standing up to Loki that day helped me gain the necessary distance to see what I had been ignoring or unable to see before. True, He wasn’t as hard on me as He was on the person for whom the ritual had been arranged, but then again, even Loki is capable of subtlety, and being shouted at in front of a crowd of onlookers was not what I needed.
The thing is, I already knew what I needed to know. I just didn’t realize it. I remember having a conversation with a friend some time ago. We were discussing the number of devotional books dedicated to various gods and goddesses that have been published lately. Both of us think this is an excellent thing, but he was saying how glad he was that he didn’t “have” to write a devotional for his particular patron as someone else already had one in the works. I found myself growing annoyed and self-righteous. “I’ve never written anything, except for my nun blog, because They told me to. That’s not the point — devotional work is done because you want to do it. It’s a gift, it doesn’t mean anything if They have to force it out of you.”
Well, duh. That is what Loki has been trying to get me to see for several years. That is why He hasn’t demanded that I stop doing certain things or given me a deadline for my profession of vows. He wanted me to decide for myself that I wanted it. Would I still have to be a monastic if I hadn’t reached this point? Possibly. I imagine I could have conceivably dragged this whole acedia thing out for years, the prospect of which is unappealing.
So the long and the short of it is that now I am finally and fully ready to commit to a monastic life, and to enter into the deep, commited kind of devotional relationship with Himself that by necessity will require some personal sacrifices. I have chosen a date later this month on which, in front of friends who have agreed to witness the oath-taking, I will formally make the vows I wrote about in an earlier post. I will begin from there on in to live according to the rules They and I have set out for me to abide by. I’m finally ready.
I’m fairly amused that this rather undermines the whole Master/slave paradigm that some god-bothered people (myself included) have claimed to have with their gods. It also reinforces both the contradictory nature of dealing with a trickster and the liminal space that people like me have to inhabit in order to do so without going mad ourselves. I’m a solitary monastic who has a community, a nun whose vows do not include complete celibacy, a polytheist whose life-work is to devote the majority of my energies to the worship of one god, a Lokean whose relationship with Himself is bounded by certain rules. Irony is so much a part of my life at this point that I take it for granted.
I’m also under no illusions that I won’t wrestle with acedia again in future. After all, I’m still a beginner in many ways, and it’s always hardest for new monastics, so they say, to resist the grip of apathy and despair. But having chosen to live the life I have been given has filled me with new determination, so I feel better about things than I have in a long time.
I’ll write an account of the actual oath-taking, as well as a post on the monastic rules that are going to govern my life from then on. I also plan to write about the high holidays, as I’d mentioned some time ago. Now that I have a clearer idea of what I’m going to be doing it’s much easier to find things to write about here.
In honor of Mani October 5, 2009
How can I see the splendor of the moon
If his face shines over my heart,
Flaming like the sun?
The Turks in his eyes charge through my soul,
While untrue curling hair
Defeats faith.
Yet if he lifted the veil from his face,
The world would be undone,
The universe astounded.
He walks through the garden
With grace, erect,
His exquisite posture mocking even the straight cypresses.
He charges, riding his gnostic horse
Into the holy space of divinity,
The sacred sphere.
Tonight the Saki with its red-stained ruby lips
Pours wine for the luxury of every drunk,
And sates every reveler’s taste.
As Hayati has drunk his ecstasy,
Her soul now satisfied by the wine of his pure heart,
How can she drink any other nectar?
– Bibi Hayati (19th Century), translated by Aliki Barnstone
Mani is the Norse deity associated with the moon. He travels the night skies and observes much of what happens in the Nine Worlds. His is a gentle, joyous presence, and as a friend once pointed out during a faining for him, Mani is a god whose face you can see right in front of you every night, if you only take the time to look. His sister, Sunna, is the goddess of the sun.
(I found this via the Poetry Chaikhana email newsletter. I highly recommend a visit to this site if you are interested at all in devotional poetry, as it has a stunning collection of works by poets from many religious traditions around the world.)
Prayer Beads: An Update September 14, 2009
Part of the issue with saying daily prayers for me has been that since I initially wrote the ones that I came up with for my set of beads, my life, my understanding of my gods and my role as a nun have all altered significantly. Saying these prayers came to feel more and more like whining to the gods to help me and give me things, rather than what I felt prayer ought to be about. Consequently, I decided to update the words that correspond with my own set of prayer beads to reflect both what I am trying to accomplish by doing them at all, and to emphasize the fact that I’m trying to understand what They have to teach us. Some of the original prayers have remained more or less unchanged, while I chose to reword or totally rewrite others. The new prayer series is given below.
FIRST BEAD:
Hail to Sunna, Fair Wheel racing across the sky, who teaches us to find joy in each sunrise.
NORNS:
Hail to Urd, That Which Is, who teaches us to use our orlog wisely.
Hail to Verdande, That Which Is Becoming, who teaches us to strengthen our maegan and hamingja.
Hail to Skuld, That Which Must Be, who teaches us to bravely accept our wyrd.
NINE WORLDS:
Hail to the wights of Asgard, mighty home of the Aesir.
Hail to the wights of Ljossalfheim, glimmering realm of the Light-elves.
Hail to the wights of Vanaheim, golden country of the Vanir.
Hail to the wights of Jotunheim, ancient home of the giant-folk.
Hail to the wights of Midgard, lively world of mortal men.
Hail to the wights of Muspellheim, burning world of the fire-giants.
Hail to the wights of Svartalfheim, shadowy realm of the Duergar and Dark-elves.
Hail to the wights of Niflheim, ice-rimed world of the frost-giants.
Hail to the wights of Helheim, the refuge of the dead.
(NORNS)
VANIR & AESIR:
Hail to Frey, Golden Lord of Vanaheim, who teaches us the value of sacrifice.
Hail to Gerda, Lady of the Walled Garden, who teaches us to find strength in solitude.
Hail to Freya, Lady of Brisingamen, who teaches us to understand our own self-worth.
Hail to Nerthus, Earth Mother, who teaches us to respect the power of the land and all of its creatures.
Hail to Njord, Lord of Ships, who teaches us to provide safe harbor for those who need it most of us.
Hail to Holda, Lady of Hearth and Home, who teaches us to take pride and pleasure in providing a haven for our families, our guests and ourselves.
Hail to Bragi, Skald of Skalds, who teaches us that things need not have happened to be true.
Hail to Idunna, Lady of the Orchard, who teaches us to seek health of body and vitality of spirit.
(NORNS)
SEA-ETINS:
Hail to Aegir, Ale-Brewer beneath the sea, who teaches us the value of hospitality.
Hail to Ran, Storm-bringing Ravager, who teaches us to respect the power of the sea and all of its creatures.
Hail to Kolga, Mermaid of Cold Waters, who teaches us to be still.
Hail to Duva, Mermaid of the Hidden Island, who teaches us to see through illusions to the reality behind.
Hail to Blodughadda, Mermaid of the Sea-Bound Rivers, who teaches us the mysteries of the blood.
Hail to Hronn, Mermaid of the Whirlpool, who teaches us to name and accept our greatest fears.
Hail to Hevring, Mermaid of the Surface Waves, who teaches us to name and accept our deepest sorrows.
Hail to Bylgja, Mermaid of the Rip Tide, who teaches us to face danger as a part of life.
Hail to Bara, Mermaid of the Big Wave, who teaches us patience in the face of slow but constant change.
Hail to Unn, Mermaid of the Tidal Rhythms, who teaches us to be mindful of the patterns and passage of time.
Hail to Himinglava, Mermaid of Fair Weather, who teaches us faith in the sunshine that follows the storm.
(NORNS)
JOTNAR:
Hail to Loki, Shape-shifter and Trickster, who teaches us humor in the face of the inevitable.
Hail to Angrboda, Chieftain of the Iron Wood, who teaches us loyalty towards our kith and kin.
Hail to Fenrir, Great Wolf, who teaches us to accept our inner monsters as we learn to control them.
Hail to Jormungand, World Serpent, who teaches us the value of setting boundaries.
Hail to Hati, Moon-Chasing Wolf, who teaches us to accept our most unwelcome duties.
Hail to Skoll, Sun-Chasing Wolf, who teaches us to find what joy we can in our unwelcome duties.
Hail to Sigyn, Lady of Endurance, who teaches us about love that knows no limits.
Hail to Narvi, eldest son of Sigyn and Loki, who teaches us to remember those who died too young.
Hail to Vali, youngest son of Sigyn and Loki, who teaches us compassion for those who suffer unjustly.
Hail to Sleipnir, eight-legged son of Loki, who teaches us to carry our burdens with good will.
Hail to Laufey, Lady of the Leafy Isle, who teaches us to be true to ourselves.
Hail to Farbauti, Flaming Arrow, who teaches us to use our wits as well as our might against our enemies.
Hail to Surt, Lord of Muspellheim, who teaches us that resurrection follows destruction.
Hail to Gunnlod, fair-voiced Lady Under the Mountain, who teaches us that from isolation can come beauty and joy.
Hail to Hyndla, Hag of the Northern Mountains, who teaches us to honor our bloodlines and ancestry.
Hail to Mengloth, Healer of Lyfja Mount, who teaches us to recognize when we cause pain to others.
Hail to Utgard-Loki, crafty Sorcerer-King, who teaches us when to speak and when to remain silent.
Hail to Mordgud, Guardian of Helheim’s Gate, who teaches us discernment between what is and what is not ours to protect.
Hail to Nidhogg, Gnawer at the Roots, who teaches us mindfulness about the things we cast aside and away.
Hail to Hela, Goddess of the Dead, who teaches us compassion for the souls of the departed.
(NORNS)
LAST BEADS:
Hail to Mani, Walker in the Darkness, who teaches us to seek peace in the shadows of the night.
Hail to Yggdrasil, World Tree, who teaches us to withstand the fire and frost of mortal existence, and to remain rooted in our faith and troth.
I usually end with additional prayers to specific deities and prayers on behalf of other people.
