Magic/Magick, Paganism, Witchcraft

Pondering what Ryan Smith said about the titular subject of his book “Spinning Wyrd”

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Wyrd is an important subject to me. This is reflected by how often I keep coming back to it onn this blog. I’ve written posts about how the concept relates to both my ethics and my magic. I’ve even written a guided meditation/visualization for connecting with the web of wyrd. It’s so important to me that a major thing that made me take notice of Spinning Wyrd by Ryan Smith at first is the fact that it has “wyrd” in the title.1 So naturally, it only makes sense I’d have a few thoughts after reading the chapter of his book that is dedicated to discussing this important topic.

I like that Smith first demystifies wyrd by suggesting that it is just a force of the universe similar to the force of gravity. He explains the nature of wyrd in comparison to some models of fate like this:

However, Nordic wyrd is best understood as a metaphysical force comparable to gravity or magnetism that operates in consistent patterns that are shaped by the two essential forces of ørlog and hamingja.

Smith goes on to explain that these two forces represent the circumstances and implications of past actions and our personal and communal power2 to create change. I think this is an important interaction to understand because it helps us to keep in mind two equally important truths:

  1. We are not the victims of fate and have a say in our destinies through each action we take.
  2. Our influence is not limitless and there are other factors at play that we must learn to cooperate with and/or work around.

To me, becoming a proficient and effective witch is largely a matter of understanding these two truths and the interplay between them. We learn to understand the limitations placed upon us by our circumstances and the consequences of past actions,3 then understand how we can act anew and assert our will and power to shape the future within the confines of those limitations.4

This is an idea that not all Heathens seem to share. Some Heathens tend to be more fatalistic about wyrd and tend to view it as being more set in stone. This is due to certain passages in the lore. Fortunately, Smith covers those and beautifully explains why he reads those passages less fatalistically5 in the second section of this chapter, where he discusses the Norns. I have decided to do a separate blog post on that topic, which I hope to publish on Agust 23.

Post History: I wrote the initial draft of this post on August 11, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on August 13, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Beyond that, “spinning wyrd” poetically describes how I understand magic, which I see as the act of altering the very web of wyrd and the reality that is created through it. Smith doesn’t use the word “witchcraft,” but I get the impression that he perceives his own mystical/magical practices in a similarly way, regardless of what labels he might use for those practices. ↩︎
  2. Smith introduced me to the idea that individuals could pool their hamingja (which I’d summarize as being about personal power) to work toward a common goal, thereby reshaping wyrd communally. While I had gotten close to this idea, I had never arrived at it quite so eloquently or explicitly and I appreciate Smith’s help in getting me across that threshold to full revelation. ↩︎
  3. Both our own actions and those of other people. ↩︎
  4. We might even test those limits to determine if they actually lie where we think they do. ↩︎
  5. I’ll note, however, that even Smith and I might hold different views on how set in stone certain future events are. For example, Smith clearly sees Ragnarok as unavoidable. I’m not as convinced of that conclusion. At the very least, I think some of the details — for example, whether Fenrir would oppose the Aesir in that battle — could have been avoided if the Aesir had simply made different choices. But then, I acknowledge that ‘could be different” and “will be different” are two different things. Also, I think how we interpret Ragnarok — such as whether we look at it as a Norse version of Armageddon or a metaphor for all cycles of death and renewal — changes my answer as to how avoidable or malleable the outcome is. ↩︎
Paganism

Let’s talk about that time the Aesir screwed the pooch: A less common interpretation of “The Binding of Fenrir.”

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One of the things I love about mythology is that, in my opinion at least, the stories are meant to be explored and plumbed for possible meaning. I don’t think that a single story necessarily has just one meaning. I also don’t think we should limit the meanings we take from the stories to those intended by the author.1

In that spirit, I would like to share one of the ways that I interpret a well-known Norse Myth, “The Binding of Fenrir.”2 In this story, the deities of Asgard become concerned about the destructive nature of Loki’s wolf-son and decide to bind him. It takes multiple attempts to do so and in the end, Fenrir become suspicious of the Aesir’s intentions and becomes reluctant to let them try again. Tyr convinces Fenrir to do so by offering to place his hand in the wolf’s mouth and giving him permission to bite it off if they don’t release the wolf from the bonds. Many — myself included — have looked at this as a story about the relationship between justice and sacrifice, praising Tyr for his willingness to knowingly sacrifice a hand in order to prevent some great calamity.

In this post, however, I want to suggest a different interpretation, one which would suggest that the residents of Asgard were wrong for binding Fenrir at all. After all, prior to being bound by the deities, the wolf was quite friendly toward the Aesir. I would suggest that their choice to tie him up and leave him bound may have been the catalyst that turned Fenrir against the Aesir and leads directly to his choice to oppose them at Ragnarok.

Now, many people might criticize this interpretation, arguing that the lore makes it fairly clear that if the Aesir had not bound the wolf, he would have caused too much chaos and possibly even destroyed everything. I would counter that criticism with a number or responses, the first one being that the attempt was ultimately unsuccessful and therefore their unjust act merely delayed his acts of destruction at best and caused them at worst. In the case of the former, I think it’s fair to question whether the delay justifies the act of injustice.

I also think that the latter is an even greater point, especially when you consider how the concept of the self-fulfilling prophecy is a common theme throughout ancient literature, both in Norse/Germanic culture and elsewhere. Keeping that in mind, I’m tempted to read the entire tale as another case of a self-fulling prophecy where the deities hear a prophecy (or even just get a sense of foreboding) and immediately try to counter it, engaging in actions that merely bring the prophecy to fruition. Perhaps if they had found a way to live peacefully with Fenrir and help him find constructive ways to redirect his destructive potential, things would have turned out differently.

So what does this mean to myself as a modern reader? I take this as a warning to not be driven by fear and take the “easy way out” of difficult situations, especially when that “easy way” comes t the expense of others. I think it’s a perfectly human impulse to try to avoid or control a potentially problematic situation, but acknowledge that acting on that impulse may lead to less than desirable results. I find it as encouragement to consider other options that may be revealed by exploring my fears, understanding the needs behind them, and considering how those needs might be addressed in other ways.

I also look at this story and consider how it might be an allegory for children growing up in general. Adolescence can be rough and chaotic and living with an adolescent going through that process can be as well. Again, I see the way some people want to deal with the difficulties and “rebelliousness” of adolescents reflected in the Aesir’s decision to betray and bind Fenrir. So as I wonder if there was a way to help Fenrir redirect his “destructive” nature into something beneficial and harmonious, I think that we need to find ways to help adolescents deal wit the own chaos they find themselves going through — both internally and externally — and help them instead find ways to shape themselves into the incredible adults they can and should become.3

Note that this is not to say that I find no value in the more common interpretations and lessons taken from this story. But the beautiful thing about stories is that we can take more than one meaning from them. I think this particular meaning of Fenrir’s tale is worth exploring.

Post History: I wrote the first draft of this post on August 11, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on August 2, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. I do think it’s important to never represent our personal interpretations as the original author’s intended meaning, however. ↩︎
  2. The link is to the version of the myth published on the Norse Mythology for Smart People website. This version includes footnotes indicating the earlier sources (including both Eddas) it drew on to create this particular telling. I’d encourage those interested to search out a few other versions of the myth, as the details vary a bit and, in my opinion at least, in ways that are somewhat interests. ↩︎
  3. I also think this idea can be applied to other people — such as other adults– that we find “difficult” and that there’s a generic lesson of ‘find ways to work together before just treating other people as troublemakers that should be cast out.” ↩︎
Paganism, Religion, Spiritual Development, Witchcraft

Synchronicity vs. Looking for Signs: Thoughts while reading “Spinning Wyrd” by Ryan Smith

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Happy Friday, dear readers! For today’s blog post, i want to share some reflections inspired by Ryan Smith’s discussion of synchronicity in chapter one of Spinning Wyrd. While discussing the topic, Smith offers this bit of cautionary advice:

When you accept synchronicity into your life, you should refrain as much as possible from actively imposing meaning where it might not be present. Not all moments of coincidence are necessarily instances of synchronicity. Sometimes a flock of ravens chattering on the power line is just a conspiracy of ravens and not a visit from the god of victory to remind you that your utility bill is overdue or that a blackout is imminent.

Personally, I think this is a much needed warning. I too have noticed some Pagans’ tendency (especially among witches) to look at every moment in their life and try to find some sort of sign or portent in it. This can be anything from seeing an animal on the way to work to wondering what it means when the flame on their spell candle dances. And while I get that this is likely at least partly motivated by an understandable and admirable desire to see the wondrous in everything,1 I think a lot of people take it too far. Sometimes, animals show up simply because they exist in the same world as us. And sometimes, a flame dancing is just a demonstration of chaos theory.2

Smith goes on to discuss some of the criteria he uses to discern whether a given event is truly a case of the powers trying to send a message or just stuff coincidentally happening. His biggest advice is to focus primarily on those events that happen in close relation or proximity to ritual or other mystical work. So for example, he might take a raven or two landing on front porch shortly after holding a blot to Odin as a sign more readily than if he saw those same ravens on a fence while walking through the neighborhood on the way to the park. This strikes me as good advice.

I would also suggest that the problem often comes when we actively look for these signs and portents. In my experience, a true sign from the powers feels substantively different than a circumstance to the point where I immediately take notice even though I wasn’t looking for such a sign. And to be honest, I trust the powers I work with to send another sign if I happen to miss the first one.3 So this allows me to relax a bit and not push myself to be on the constant outlook for such signs, making me less likely to “see” ones that are not actually there.

Of course,this requires a person to have a certain level of trust in their own intuition, including the trust that their intuition will ever kick in to begin with. But that’s a confidence and trust that an be built over time and in my opinion, is something well worth cultivating. Ultimately, I think that once most people experience a handful of signs from the powers, their confidence that they’ll spot them without going looking for them begins to grow and they’ll be able to relax.4

Post History: I wrote the draft of this post on August 3, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on August 9, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Though I have also hypothesized that “what does the flame dancing mean” is often a case of someone — especially if they’re relatively new to witchcraft — looking for some sign that their spell is “working.” That in itself deserves its own exploration as building that kind of confidence in one’s magic is a real need. ↩︎
  2. As someone who’s a bit of a math nerd, I must admit that chaos theory is pretty wondrous in its own right. Sometimes, appreciating the way in which such “randomness” can appear beautiful is well worth meditating upon in its own right. ↩︎
  3. This is also why many mystics and witches suggest that paying attention to repeating “coincidences” is another great way to discern legitimate messages from the powers. I think there’s merit to that bit of counsel as well. ↩︎
  4. Of course, even experienced witches and mystics sometimes mistake a coincidence for a sign or even misread a sign’s meaning. This is to be expected, as developing and improving our discernment is a never-ending process. ↩︎
Magic/Magick, Witchcraft

An exploration of why I don’t believe in “words of power”

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This blog post was inspired by an answer I submitted on Quora. Much of the text from that answer was used as a basis for this blog post.

“Words of Power” seem to be a common idea that comes up in certain magical traditions. A lot of ceremonial magic1 involves invoking the various names for God and/or the names of angels. As near as I can tell, the idea seems to be that by invoking the names, you are effectively directing the very power of God and/or those angels toward whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish.

I’ve also seen this manifest itself in the form of using just the right words in a chant, incantation, or spell. I’m reminded of the tales in which a djinn is obliged to grant some human a number of wishes and the human quickly learns that they must be careful how they phrase the wish, lest the wish-granting spirit finds a way to fulfill the request so that the person making it comes to regret it. Indeed, I think this need to get the words (and everything else) “Just right is rooted in this fear that if the witch or magician doesn’t, things will go horribly wrong.

I think this idea of “words of power” in any conceptualization is giving words way too much power. And I say that as a blogger and writer who values my ability to communicate through language greatly.

But that’s the thing, i value language and the way it allows me to communicate ideas. This means to me that power is not contained in individual words by themselves. Power and meaning are created through how we string them together to communicate ideas.

To me, what matters is not using “the right words” or invoking “the right names” when doing magic, but communicating and clarifying my intent. So in that sense, I do think that the idea that carefully choosing words when writing a chant or something similar to be used in magic (or any other ritual) is important than the idea that having the right words will compel any deity or any other being to do our bidding.

To be honest, I don’t think we can compel anyone — even other humans — to do our bidding merely through using the right words. Sure, we can use our words to implore, negotiate, and otherwise influence others. And if we’re less than ethical, we can manipulate them or gaslight them to the point where they rely on us to tell them what to do.2 But ultimately, the final decision to act a certain way is theirs to make. So the idea that gods and spirits are going to do whatever we want just because we “say the magic word” is just laughable to me.

As for the need to clearly communicate our intent and desired outcome through language, I think some people take this too far and even get unreasonably afraid. Such people seem to live in fear of what might happen if they use the wrong word(s). To be frank, they seem to think they live in a universe that’s out to get them, and I don’t think that’s a realistic perception. I certainly don’t think it’s healthy.

So what about you, dear reader? What are your thoughts on “words of power” and the importance of language in magic in general? Do you tend to see things similarly to the way I do? Or do you have a different take? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!

Post History: I wrote the first draft of this post on July 31, 2024. I proofread revised, and finalized it on August 3, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. I should note that these statements are based on my extremely limited knowledge of ceremonial magic and should probably be taken with a grain of salt. Any readers more familiar with the tradition are welcome and encouraged to point out where I’m misstating or oversimplifying things here. ↩︎
  2. Even if you are morally reprehensible enough to engage in gaslighting and other abusive behavior, I would not recommend trying that approach with a deity for…practical reasons. ↩︎
Books, Paganism, Religion, Witchcraft

Pondering the “Invoking Fire and Ice” rite in “Spinning Wyrd,” by Ryan Smith

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When I was exploring the differences between my witchcraft practice and Wicca back in May, I mentioned that i was still exploring how to start my rituals and create a sort of ritual and magical space. At the time, I shared the following thoughts:

Also, there an aspect of circle casting I’ve found some Wiccans express that I find appealing — the idea of creating magical space, a “place that is not a place in a time that is not a time.” Or another way to put it would be “creating a liminal space for ritual.” This to me is different from creating sacred space and has a value. Setting aside a space to work magic in a given moment makes sense to me.

This also feels right for working with Freyja, though I’m not sure she likes liminal spaces, so much as wild spaces. My perception of Freyja is that much of her worship and magic is about stepping beyond the domain of humans and the bounds of civilization. In many ways, I imagine it as making forays from Midgard out into the wild and primal places of Utgard. So I’ve thought about exploring a way to create ritual space that is a sort of “pocket of Utgard.” Or perhaps a sort of outpost in Utgard. I haven’t made much progress with the idea, but it’s definitely one I keep toying with.

While reading Spinning Wyrd by Ryan Smith, I ran across his “Invoking Fire and Ice” rite, which may be an excellent starting point for what I want to do. To be honest, I’m a bit embarrassed I didn’t think of it myself. After all, the rite involves invoking and bringing together fire and ice — the opposing forces that were pivotal in sparking the creation process in the Norse myths — “in a way that leads to them meeting, joining, and creating a new synthesis of possibility and space for new creation.”1 I’ve often waxed poetic of the creative tension of the fire of Muspelheim and the ice of Niflheim. And yet, it did not occur to me to magically invoke these forces and that creative tension in order to make a space for my own efforts at creation and making changes to wyrd.

I also think this idea meets my needs for creating a sort of “wild space.” After all, the civilized order of Midgard did not come from the meeting of the fire and ice of the two elemental realms. That had to be shaped from the primal forces that resulted from that first moment of creation. I feel that my invocation of fire and ice would create a similarly primal space of unordered forces that I (and those working with me) could according to my (our) needs.

Post History: I began writing this post on July 21, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized the post on July 25, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. I’m directly quoting from chapter one of the book here. ↩︎
Meta-Blogging, Uncategorized

Bonus Post: Did you know I have a newsletter and a Facebook page?

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Hey all! I just wanted to send out a quick note that I have a newsletter. i don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned that on the blog. It’s been defunct for about two years, but I’m reviving it. In fact, a new issue went out to subscribers this morning!

Also, I thought it might be worth knowing that I have a Facebook page. Links to every blog post get posted there and I’ve started adding a comment with a few thoughts about the post and creating it.

At any rate, it’s a couple more resources for those of you who want to keep up to date on what your friendly1 neighborhood2 wyrd-worker is up to!

Post History: Yeah, there’s no real editing history for this post. I just wrote this and hit “publish” when I was done.

FootNotes

  1. Or at least friendly-ish! ↩︎
  2. Online neighborhoods count! ↩︎

Paganism, Religion, Witchcraft

I will call myself a “witch.” Even if I call myself other things as well.

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Part of me is surprised that no one has ever asked me why I call myself a “witch” rather than something from Norse practice (like a spae-man or a seithman.1) Probably because I often ask myself that same question and project my own tendency to question my choices onto others. But the fact that someone — even if only myself — is asking, I thought i might be beneficial to explore the answer to the question in a blog post. So here I go.

I started calling myself a witch back in 1998 when I first started exploring non-initiatory Wicca. I dropped the label somewhat when I started exploring Druidry through Ár nDraíocht Féin and then Heatherny through The Troth. However, I eventually realized that neither of these organizations quite nourished my spirit or matched how I perceived my own religious or magical practice, so i decided to go back to calling myself a witch and adopted the term “Vanic witch” to signify just how central my relationship with Freyja was to my own practice of witchcraft.

At this time, I also got involved with an email list that focused on discussing initiatory witchcraft. I found the definition that one of the initiates offered for witchcraft resonated with me:

A witch is someone who serves the role of both priest who serves the gods and ecstatic practitioner who seeks direct experience of the mystical.

Rough paraphrase of a definition given by an elder of the Mohsian tradition.

That’s how I saw (and still see) my own practice so I decided “witch” was the right term for me after all.

Mind you, I do occasionally use other labels to describe myself. I do like “seithman” and “spae-man,”2 as these refer to particular aspects of my practice (or aspects I want to incorporate into it). But they don’t really seem to encompass the entirety of my practice.

To be honest, this is reinforced by the fact that I allow my practice to be syncretic as well. These syncretic practices don’t fit into many of the Norse-specific words. And to be honest, a lot of Heathens who are more strict reconstructionists seem to almost frown on those of us who, for example, still find Tarot to be a useful tool.3 For me, “witch” is a more generic term which makes space for all my practices. It is inclusive of all the tools in my magical practitioner’s toolbox. Both those that have a basis in Norse culture and those that may be syncretized with it.

Also, I think calling myself a “witch” means I’m using an easily recognizable term more people are familiar with. If I say I’m a seithman, a spae-man, or a vitki, most people are going to have no clue what I’m talking about. Heck, I typically have to explain why i call myself a wyrd-worker.4

But if I say I’m a witch, most people have a rough idea of what I’m talking about. And now that people are becoming more aware that there are other witchcraft traditions and practices beyond just Wicca, mistaken assumptions about me along those lines also seem to be less common.

Post History: I wrote the original draft of this post on July 21, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on July 22, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. Of course, those who know me closely or have followed me long enough might already know that I have “seithman” as one of my email account names. I won’t post the full email address here, as I don’t want to encourage the spammers who already like to hit me up through my contact list. ↩︎
  2. I personally find “spae-master” entirely too prideful to consider using, however. ↩︎
  3. I will note, however, that I am not a fan of trying to blend such syncretic practices to the point where I try to make some universal, coherent system out of all of it. I love both the runes and the Tarot and find them useful, but i see no reason to throw them into a blender and make a single symbol system out of them. In fact, I tend to think it disrespects both practices. ↩︎
  4. Here’s a bit of interesting trivia for you: I typically only refer to myself as a wyrd-worker on my blog and social media. In fact, I started doing it when I created my YouTube channel. I was trying to come up with a name for the channel, and considered “A Witch’s Wisdom.” However, I realized that there were so many witch influences out there and wanted something a bit more unique. So I came up with “A Wyrd-Worker’s Wisdom” instead. And while the term absolutely reflects my understanding of my witchcraft practice and its nature, I will be forever amused by the reality that I adopted the label for the purposes of branding. ↩︎
Books, Meta-Blogging, Paganism, Religion, Spiritual Development

Exploring a new book for Friday blog posts: “Spinning Wyrd” by Ryan Smith

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Happy Friday readers! Isn’t it amazing how the Powers sometimes respond to us in interesting ways? Back on July 15, I commented that I really wanted to find a new book to blog my way through on Fridays. And almost immediately, I found what I believe to be that book. This post and the next few Friday posts will be about Spinning Wyrd by Ryan Smith.

I ran across Smith’s book a couple weeks ago when my Kindle app tossed it out as a book I might be interested in “based on my past reading.” I was mildly interested in the book right away because of the subtitle, “A Journey through the Nordic Mysteries.” So I took note of it and thought little more about it.

However, when I finished both books I had been reading (Cultish by Amanda Montell and a novel from the Crowns of Nyaxia series by Carissa Broadbent), I started looking for a new nonfiction book. As it’s been a while since Ive read a book about Asatru or any form of Heathenry/Norse Paganism,1 I started doing a bit of research. I wanted to find a book that was neither just presenting (non-initiatory) Wicca with Norse names tossed in nor written by someone with folkish or other bigoted views.2 Someone on the Norse Paganism subreddit mentioned, another of Smith’s books, The Way of Fire and Ice, as a good book and one that is radically inclusive. So I bought a copy of both books.

I began reading Spinning Wyrd and immediately started falling in love. In it, Smith describes and offers advice on a radical and radically inclusve type of Heathenry that embraces mysticism, which is right up my alley. One of the things I struggle with much of Heatherny, especially Asatru, is that it’s very academic and strikes me as exoteric. While I appreciate delving into the myths and lore of ancient Norse and other Germanic cultures, I’m not interested in creating a perfect replica of those culture’s beliefs or painstakingly recreate rites that match what those ancient worshipers of the Aesir and Vanir did.

Smith seems to share a similar sentiment. In the introduction to Spinning Wyrd, he lays out the following principle for his brand of Heathenry:3

At the core of Radical Heathenry are five points that set it apart from other forms of Heathen practice and define every aspect of this form of spirituality. These are living tradition, inspired adaptation, modern relevance, inclusive practice, and active involvement.

I also fell in love because his own description of wyrd in the introduction is extremely similar to how I view it:

Wyrd is the symphony of life cocreated by the actions of all beings, from the humblest living things to the mightiest of the godly and animistic Powers of Nordic practice.

I’m excited to read and blog about this book because for the first time, I feel like I may have found someone who sees honoring and working with the Aesir and Vanir very much as I do.4 I look forward to learning whatever i can from expanding my appreciation of the mystical side of Heathen practice and possibly further root my current mystical practices in the ways of Heathenry. I’m not quite ready to full on swear my commitment to the Way of Fire and Ice (the tradition founded by Smith), but I won’t deny that it’s certainly a possibility in the future.

I’m not sure I’ll blog through this book chapter-by-chapter like I did with Changing Paths. I figure I’ll just write a post on any aspect of the book that I feel I want to comment on and explore. It’s possible that might result in a post per chapter. Then again, it might result in me making multiple posts for some chapters.

I’ll also note that I feel like I’m going against some sort of rule here by blogging about Spinning Wyrd rather than first reading and blogging about The Way of Fire and ice, as Spinning Wyrd was written as a follow-up book for The Way of Fire and Ice. But the second book’s focus on wyrd really calls to me, so I want to jump right to it. I definitely plan to read both books, though. And I might even blog about the first one later on. Besides, are any of my readers really surprised that I might flout the rules a bit?

Post History:5 I started writing this post on July 20, 2024. I proofread, revised, and finalized it on July 21, 2024.

Footnotes

  1. I appreciate that Smith seems to use these terms relatively interchangeably. I understand why some Asatruar prefer to distance themselves from the term “Paganism.” However, the term has its uses and I’m not sure I want to draw such hard boundaries between myself and other Pagans. Also, I personally haven’t felt comfortabe identifying with Asatru or even Heathenry because I often feel like a lot of Asatuar would not see my own practice as “reconstructionist” or “culturally pure” enough. Fortunately, I think Smith’s book(s) might help me feel differently on that count. ↩︎
  2. To be honest, searching for a book that meets all of these requirements often feels like hunting for unicorns. ↩︎
  3. Smith refers to his brand of Heathenry as both Radical Heathenry and Fire and Ice Heathenry. He and others maintain an organization for people who are interested in exploring and taking part in this tradition. ↩︎
  4. In fairness, I do know of other Asatruar/Heathens who have mystical practices. For example, I’m familiar with Diana Paxson’s work to reconstruct a modern seidh practice and I loved Jenny Blain’s exploration of the same practice in her book. But everything I’ve read by both of them is more academic than practical or instructional. Granted, Paxson does have a couple of practical books on mysticism (Trance-portation and The Essential Guide to Possession, Depossession, and Divine Relationships) they are written outside of any specific cultural context in order to make them helpful to a wider audience. I appreciate that Smith’s books explicitly place his mystical explorations in the Heathen context. ↩︎
  5. I’ve decided to experiment with including a brief history of my process for each blog post. I feel this offers me a lot of benefits, including enabling me to remember at a glance which posts are actually ready for publication. I hope my readers don’t find it too distracting. ↩︎
Books, Religion

A graphic novel that beautifully explores interfaith cooperation.

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Last Tuesday marked the release of Youth Group, a comedic horror graphic novel by Jordan Morris and Bowen McCurdy. I had learned about it from listening to the interview Morris gave on the Thereafter podcast and pre-ordered it. As son as the book hit my Kindle account, I downloaded it and tore through it, even tweeting a bit about it as I read along.

The graphic novel is incredible and there are so many things I could say about it. But for this post, I want to focus on one particular aspect of the story: The way that the author (and illustrator) tackled the topic of interfaith cooperation.

Before I dig in too deep, I want to start by noting that this blog post will contain images of individual panels from the graphic novel. Rather than relying on a “Fair Use” defense, I decided to contact Jordan Morris directly and ask for permission to do so. He responded and gave me permission, asking that I only avoid including spoilers.1 I have done my best to honor that request, and I don’t think anything I’ve included gives away any major plot points. Special thanks to Jordan for giving me permission, though.

About a third of the way into the graphic novel, I was a bit concerned about how they might be treating non-Christian religions in it. After all, one demon seemed to be posing as a “crystal healing therapist” and in another case, a character scratching out runes was seen as a sign of demonic possession. I tweeted out a carefully nuanced tweet about my concerns regarding this, acknowledging that this might be unintentional. I explained where my concern really lie and how that was important without detracting from or erasing the positive qualities of the book.

Of course, my fears were greatly alleviated a few pages later, when I ran across one of the evangelical Christian demon hunters saying the following:

“The Wiccans seem cool. The Satanists seem really cool.”

With that one thread, Morris and McCurdy let me know that in this world of theirs, there were Wiccans and Satanists who also hunted demons. I was immediately relieved that this was not a “Christians vs. the ‘weird occult religions'” scenario after all. And yet, what came later was even more of a surprise. Morris and McCurdy didn’t just tell us that that non-Christian demon hunters existed, but introduced us to a few of them.2

The protagonists — a trio of demon hunters from an evangelical church — talk about the existence of other religious groups having demon hunters and consider getting together with them to at least compare notes with one another. As they consider this, they find themselves obligated to deal with the prejudices many evangelical and other conservative/authoritarian Christians have against people from other religions. But eventually, our protagonists decide to have a party where they invite the other demon hunters,3 and they all get together. Some stereotypes are addressed and knowledge is shared, modeling beautifully what interfaith dialogue and cooperation should look like.

Meg the evangelical and Thorn the Wiccan introduce themselves.

This meeting of the minds becomes important to the plot. After the party, the classic “looks like the bad guys might win after all” event takes place and our demon hunters find themselves having to re-evaluate things and figure out what to do. During that time, the protagonist Cortland ends up meeting with the Wiccan demon hunters and they work together to uncover a secret that, in my opinion at least, seems central to the story and its resolution. (I won’t go into details because that would totally be a spoiler.)

The important thing to note though is that they learn this secret through a technique only the Wiccans seem to know about. Of course, the Wiccans also need Cortland because of experiences he has that make him uniquely qualified to help them out in this endeavor. So it is only through the cooperation of people from two different religious traditions that this pivotal (in my opinion at least) plot point can unfold.

This, my friends, is the kind of interfaith cooperation we need to see more of, both in popular culture and in the real world. This acknowledgement that none of these groups can hope to succeed in this fight alone is so vital and one that I hope people take to heart reading this graphic novel.

I, like Meghan Crozier, am rooting for there to be a sequel. And I hope that the sequel continues to portray the kind of interfaith cooperation that this first book did. Of course, as Morris and McCurdy continue to represent other faiths, I hope and trust they will consult members of those faiths.4 To that end, I’d like to offer myself as a non-Wiccan witch with a fair amount of knowledge about Wicca as someone they can run ideas by and/or ask for advice. If you don’t already have that connection through some other source.

Footnotes

  1. Okay, he also asked me to tag him in the post. But that was a foregone conclusion whether he requested it or not. ↩︎
  2. Sadly, we don’t get to meet any demon hunters that are Satanists (maybe that’ll come up in the sequel some of us are hoping for?) Which is a shame. Of course, I could see that leading to some interesting story-telling and world-building. Here in the real world, the two best known Satanic organizations don’t actually believe in supernatural beings. So did the Satanic demon hunters in this fictional universe start as theistic Satanists? Or are they members of the CoS/TST who are dealing with the realization that their disbelief in the supernatural was unfounded? ↩︎
  3. Wiccan, Jewish, and Catholic demon hunters show up, though the Jewish and Catholic demon hunters are mostly silent/unseen during this part of the story beyond announcing their appearance. I will note a couple of the evangelical Christian demon hunters do receive training through a Catholic group later in the story, however. ↩︎
  4. On that note, a minor nitpick/note for the authors: You two know that most Wiccans don’t actually draw pentagrams on the floor for their rituals, right? I’m hoping you did that because it’s an easy identifier despite being pretty trope-ish. ↩︎
Paganism, Religion

Bonus Post: A Norse Pagan rite to support someone severing ties with a loved one

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Explanation and Background Information

Happy Saturday, dear readers! I decided to publish a bonus post today due to something that an acquaintance from an online deconstruction community said over on Threads:

Thoughts on grief & estrangement.

The thing about no contact with a parent is they have basically died.

But society doesn’t have a way to really grieve that.

My uncle died and my health (and said estranged parent) is precluding me from going to the memorial.

I wrote cards to my aunt and cousins this week, sending my condolences.

But before I sent those, some internal work was required, bc my mom has died – but no one really knows that.

Threads post by joyfulsojournr.

What joyfulsojournr said struck a cord with me. This is something that we as a society — especially those of us who like to build religious community — really need some sort of rite for. After all, we have rites for funerals, weddings, births, coming of age, and many other life events. Why not rites to honor cutting ties with someone and mourning the loss of that relationship?

At first, I wrote a draft of a simple solitary rite for grieving the loss of relationship. However, as I thought about it more, I realized this is a moment in people’s lives where they need community recognition of and support for this important and often painful transition in their lives. So i have chosen to expand the rite into something that a kindred or other group might do. I’m including the entirety of this new community-oriented rite in this post.

I will note that this rite is deeply rooted in (my understanding of) Norse mythology and cosmology and draws on that symbolism extensively. As such, this rite won’t meet the needs of everyone. But hopefully it will give even those who do not honor the Aesir and Vanir ideas on how they might develop their own rites to help one another through such a life decision.

The ritual

Participants:

  • Mourner (the person cutting ties with a loved one)
  • Ritual Leader
  • Priest of Thor
  • Priest of Freyja
  • Priest of Idunna

Note: The ritual leader and three priests can be of any gender. Also, the same person can take on more than one role. However, when possible, the role of each priest should be taken on by someone who has a close connection with that deity.

Items Required

  • Two drinking horns or cups filled with a suitable beverage
  • An apple or a few apple slices
  • An offering bowl (can be excluded if the rite is to be performed outdoors and offerings may be poured directly onto the ground.

Ritual Body

Gather everyone to the ritual space and get everyone’s attention.

Priest of Thor: (Making the sign of Thor’s hammer at each of the four cardinal directions, then toward the sky, then the earth.) Mighty Thor! Hallow this place that we might gather with the gods, the ancestors, and the spirits of land here!

All: Hail Thor! Hallow this place!

Ritual Leader: Gods. Ancestors. Spirits of this land. Please attend this rite that you might witness what we say and do here today. For with this rite, we seek to influence wyrd.

All: Hail to the Powers! Witness our rite and our working of wyrd.

Ritual Leader: Today, we both witness and participate in a shift in wyrd. A member of our community, [Mourner] has chosen to cut someone from their lives. Step forward and name the person.

Mourner: I have chosen to remove [person] from my life. (Mourner may acknowledge who this person is and what relationship there has been between them if they wish.)

Ritual Leader: Have you made this choice of your own free will?

Mourner: I have.

Ritual Leader: And do you believe that this is the best course of action for the sake of your health and well-being?

Mourner: I do. (Mourner may briefly elaborate on why they have made this decision if they wish.)

Ritual Leader: Then as your community in frith with you, we shall honor this choice.

Priest of Thor: As Thor guards the enclosures of men and gods from those chaotic forces that would do harm, I swear to help you maintain your separation from [person] so long as you wish it.

All: So we all swear.

Mourner should take up the first cup or drinking horn at this time.

Priest of Freyja: Freyja, the queen of the Vanir was once separated from her lover, Od. During her separation she cried tears that turned to gold, demonstrating that grief itself is precious and valuable. And while you have chosen to cut off [person], we acknowledge that there will still be grief involved. I invite you to pour out your grief at this time.

Mourner should pour out an offering from the vessel they hold.

Note: The participants should discuss each of the next three offerings and only include the ones relevant to Mourner. For example, if Mourner has no good memories with the person they’re cutting from their life, that offering should be left out.

Priest of Freyja: Even relationships that no longer serve us often had its bright moments. These will lead to memories that need to be grieved. And there may be grief that no such future memories will be created.

Mourner should pour out another offering. Optionally, they may also share some of the memories they are grieving.

Priest of Freyja: Often when we end a relationship, it is because we realized that it was not the kind of relationship we had originally thought of us. Such disillusionment is often painful and we must grieve the loss of what we thought we had as much as we grieve those things that were real.

Mourner should pour out another offering. Optionally, they may also share what some of the shattered illusions the termination of this relationship is forcing them to grapple with.

Priest of Freyja: The termination of a relationship often comes with the loss of hope. Hope that the relationship will improve. Hope that we can somehow fix or salvage it. The loss of that hope deserves to be grieved.

Mourner should pour out another offering. Optionally, they may also share what hopes they had for the relationship up to this point.

Priest of Freyja: Hear us, Queen of the Vanir! Having witnessed [Mourner’s] offering of grief, we acknowledge the pain of her loss and the value of her grief. Like your own tears, let their grief be a precious as gold to you.

All: Hail Freyja! Accept their grief!

Reilgious Leader: Grief is not a one-time experience that can quickly left behind. As your community, we recognize that these offerings are just the start of your grieving journey. We swear to support you as that journey continues.

All: So we swear!

Priest of Idunna: (Picking up the apple or apple slices) As Idunna nourished the gods with her apples and kept them strong, let us nourish, comfort, and strengthen you during this time of change and grieving.

The Priest of Idunna should offer the apple to Mourner, who should then eat it.

Ritual Leader: (Picking up the second cup or drinking horn) Let us all share a drink and toast our love and support to [Mourner].

Hold a one-round sumbel where each participant affirms Mourner’s decision, offers a blessing during their time of grieving, or otherwise demonstrates their support. Mourner should drink from the cup last, offering gratitude to those in attendance and stating their hopes moving forward.

Ritual Leader: Gods! Ancestors! Spirits of this land! We thank you for witnessing this rite. We ask you to continue to bless our community and especially [Mourner] during this time and grief.

All: Hail to the Powers! Thank you for your attendance!

Ritual Leader: This rite is concluded. Let us break together bread in kinship and frith.

Retire to feasting and good conversation.

The thoughts of a gay witch living in upstate New York.