Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘ADF’

My first week of this practice went fairly slowly. I am experimenting with how I want to set up my daily practice. Since I’m not in a position where I can do sunrise and sunset devotionals (I am in the car during the sunrise, and I am in bed before the sun sets right now), I am going to start a morning devotional that I can do either before I leave for work or once I get to my desk. Since I’m in the office at 6:45, and my nearest coworker doesn’t arrive until 7:30, I have a little time there where I can do the work.

Obviously I can’t light candles or incense at my desk, so the ideal place for something like this will be at home before I leave, but my brain is fighting getting up any earlier than I already do (5:15 is pretty darn early).

For this week, all I have been doing is saying Ceisiwr Serith’s prayer (start small and build, right?):

The waters support and surround us
The land extends about us
The sky stretches out above us
At the center burns a living flame
May all the kindreds bless us
May our worship be true
May our actions be just
May our love be pure
Blessings and honor and worship to the holy ones

It’s nothing fancy, but it at least gets me taking some deep, centering breaths and placing myself in a good mindset to start the day. (I’ve tried saying this in the car at sunrise, but since I can’t see the sun actually rising it didn’t work too well.)

This week I also participated in the Druid Moon Cast, a monthly ADF ritual that takes place via Google Hangouts. While I don’t participate in these every month, I do them fairly regularly, and really enjoy doing them. They are a take on the idea that the 6th night of the moon was sacred to the Druids, so it is fairly fitting that we do ritual at that time. This ritual was done using Nick Egelhoff’s Telepresence Liturgy Script, which makes several references to the (quite outstanding) technology that we’re using to do these rituals. This script is customizable to different hearth cultures (or an open hearth), and this month we honored the various bodies of water that are in our different locations.

(Also, since I’m writing this as an overview of what I did LAST week, I can say that I’ve already found a prayer to add to this for Fire/Well/Tree that Rev. Mike Dangler shared on Facebook this morning. I’ll write more about that next week.)

Read Full Post »

Identify and describe one method of divination to which you find yourself attracted, and discuss its relationship to paleo-pagan divination. (minimum 300 words)

I have a fairly long relationship with divination, having been given my first set of runes when I turned approximately 12, by an uncle. (My parents did not know what they were, or I would not have been allowed to keep them, and they included the infamous “blank rune”.) I turned to tarot quickly though, finding that I couldn’t make heads or tails of my rune readings. This may or may not have been due to my using entirely New Age meanings for them, but we shall see how my relationship deepens now that I’m using more historically minded source material. Since joining ADF, I have rekindled my interest in runes, specifically in the Anglo-Saxon rune set, as part of my Anglo-Saxon hearth culture. While there are only very brief and vague mentions of runes being used for divination in Paleo-Pagan times, they are very clearly a Paleo-Pagan alphabet, and there is some (if scant) historical evidence of using alphabets as sortilege type divination throughout the Indo-European language group.

As an alphabet, the runes started in the northern part of the Germanic lands (probably Denmark-ish), and spread quickly. The Elder Futhark, with 24 symbols, was adapted for different languages and areas, which included Iceland and England (Angle-land), where the Anglo-Saxon rune poem dates from. While it contains elements that have been Christianized, the essential flavor of the runes remains, and (of course) the more overtly Christian elements can be translated out.

While there is no direct paleo-pagan source for using runes as a divination method, there is attested use of runes for magic and for writing, and in Tacitus Germania, there is a reference to divination by something which sounds a great deal like it would be runecasting. Small pieces of wood are carved with symbols and cast upon a cloth, where a seer chooses among them and reads them to divine the future (Germania 10). This sort of divination, at least in terms of the casting of lots inscribed with magically meaningful marks, is incredibly similar to the process I use for rune readings.

I am attracted to the runes as a source of wisdom and knowledge, both from a mythological standpoint and from a love of language and poetry. Woden is said to have sacrificed himself on the world tree to gain the knowledge of the runes, and then chose to share that knowledge with humanity. As a seeker of wisdom, I think it’s fairly smart to study things that are known to bring wisdom and knowledge, but also I greatly appreciate the sheer magic that is writing. Though most Anglo-Saxons were illiterate, most modern English-speakers are not, and I think we forget the magic that is inherent in language. I can read words that were written down by people hundreds of years ago, and they make sense. I can push some buttons on my desk, which makes little electric marks on this imaginary page, and you (my reviewer) can read and understand them (hopefully). Language is powerful, and using a language based divination system appeals to me greatly.

Read Full Post »

Discuss both the role of seers within at least one Indo-European culture and the relationship of seers to other members of the society, including in that discussion how seers or visionaries would have supported themselves or how they would have been supported by their people. (minimum two paragraphs)

The implication in Scandinavian and Germanic societies is that seership is a woman’s art (born out by other references to seership, and by Loki’s calling Odin “unmanly” for practicing seidhr), and that even in the age of Christianity, women still knew and practiced the art of seeing. Leif Eriksson’s Saga (ch. 4) states that Thorbjorg was one of 10 sisters, all of whom had the gift of prophecy, and she traveled from farm to farm, looking into the spirit world and into the future for people. Clearly she is held in great esteem, and her position puts her “above” the rest – she sits on a high seat to see into the spirit world.

It was clearly highly valuable in the society, as the seeress was treated with great respect and given a place of honor at the farm. As well, Odin himself consults a seer (a volva) to find out what the fate of the Gods will be in the Voluspa. Most of these seeresses seem to be older women who are somewhat outside the bounds of society – they are no longer raising children or helping husbands – but the women who help them can be of any age. Freyja, who is said to be the one who teaches Odin the art of seidhr, is similarly a woman outside of society – her husband is gone, and she is clearly mistress of her own affairs. While the majority of women probably had mundane jobs and only occasionally helped with seeing, at least in Thorbjorg’s case she seems to spend a lot of time traveling from farm to farm, exchanging food and shelter for her skills in prophecy. This may be a purely practical concern (it would be hard for a woman with a house full of small children to devote any time to a practice that required trance work or substantial travel), and it makes some amount of sense that any woman who was devoted to spending a large amount of time on seership would need to be supported by her community, or she would quickly starve.

In other stories, seers get brought back from the dead in order to continue their work of seership (Odin with Baldr’s Dream, Odr’s Saga), which implies that they are valued for their gifts, and also that they are valued for being “outside” of society. If the best way to get a good seer is not to go to the one down the street, but to raise one from the dead, they are clearly a specialized group. (This does not take into account the possibility of them receiving greater knowledge from having passed into the Otherworld, or that their “otherworldliness” is part of what sets them apart as talented seeresses.)

According to Tacitus, divination of a more mundane sort (by casting of lots) was done by a priest or the father of the household (Germania 10), so there may be a division in the society by gender (or perhaps Tacitus’ bias is showing).

Read Full Post »

Within the context of a single paleo-pagan Indo-European culture, discuss three different forms of divination or seership, and give an example of each. (minimum 100 words each)

Working from Tacitus, the Sagas, and the Poetic Edda, I’ve found three different forms of divination used by the Germanic culture group, which includes the Scandinavian and Icelandic cultures. While it could be argued that these three cultures are separated by both time and geography, their similar language, alphabet, cosmology and mythology is more than enough for me to be comfortable talking about them as a group together.

First, there’s a documented form of trance-like seership called seidhr. In Leif Eiriksson’s Saga (ch. 4) a seeress named Thorbjorg is featured who is highly honored by the farm she visits. She is brought there during a difficult time for the farm, and she spends a night there, honored by the various guests and given special food (milk porridge and animal hearts). After some reluctance (ostensibly due to being Christian) the women of the farm come and form a circle around her, and sing the ward songs, and she is visited by the spirits, who tell her that the hardship will last no longer. As well, she sees great reward for the woman who sang the ward songs. This type of divination is also seen in the Voluspa, and is perhaps the most formal and ritualistic type of seership among the Germanic and Norse cultures.

In Tacitus Germania, there is a reference to divination by something which sounds a great deal like it would be runecasting. A little bough is chopped off of a tree and cut into small pieces, which are given certain markings. They are thrown at random over a cloth, and then either the priest (or the head of the family) chooses three of them and finds meaning according to the marks. This is extremely similar to most modern practices of runecasting (Germania 10). Also, later sources (Egil’s Saga, Ch 44) show runes being used for magic, and Thorsson believes that runes were “born from a magical tradition, not a purely linguistic one” (5). Between the rune’s associations with magic and their predating Tacitus’ encountering them among the Germanic tribes (Thorsson states as early as 200 BCE (12)), I am comfortable considering runic divination, at least in terms of the casting of lots inscribed with magically meaningful marks, a divination tradition among the Germanic and related cultures.

In Svipdagsmal (Poetic Edda, Hollander) young Svipdag is given a terrible task by his evil step-mother (proving that Evil Stepmothers existed from quite a ways back). In order to get help and learn how he can complete his task, he goes and sits outside on his mother Groa’s grave, a practice called utiseta or “outsitting”. Groa comes through for Svipdag, and he not only learns how to complete his terrible task, but also is granted nine magical spells. This practice was also used in the conversion of Iceland to Christianity, when Thorgeirr (who was chosen to moderate the conflict between the Pagan Icelanders and the Christian forces from Norway) sits out for a day and a night under a skin in order to determine the fate of religion in Iceland. This practice of outsitting is a way of getting information and help, often specifically from the ancestors, and divining the future with their aid.

Read Full Post »

Name and briefly describe one method of divination or seership technique common to three paleo-pagan Indo-European cultures. (minimum 100 words each)

While there are several different types of divination methods that could be discussed in response to this question (watching bird flight, for example, or dream interpretation, or the use of seers/oracles), the one that most intrigues me is the wrapping of a priest or seer in the hide of an animal and sleeping, to receive a vision in a dream (either from a God or from the Ancestors).

In the Aeneid, Latinus goes to the Oracle of Faunus for advice on the marriage of his daughter, especially in the light of several strange portents which had happened recently. While at the oracle, Latinus performs divination by sleeping on the hides of a hundred sacrificed sheep. In response, he hears a voice from the grove of Faunus not to marry his daughter to a Latin suitor, but instead that she should be married to a man from abroad (Virgil 7.80). While this doesn’t speak much to the agency that Latinus grants to his daughter in her choice in a husband, it rather clearly shows this type of divination being successful.

In Peter Ellis’ The Druids, Ellis speaks of a ritual known in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland as the taghairm (a word he says has Irish cognates). In particular, a seer is to wrap himself in the hide of a newly slain bull and lie down at a waterfall or at the foot of a precipice and meditate. The spirits would visit him and tell him what he needed to know. (Ellis 222) This method includes both the sacrifice of an animal (in this case the bull, which seems to have been sacred throughout the Celtic cultures) and then the meditation on a desired question or outcome. This particular iteration of this divination form says nothing about actually eating the ritual flesh of the bull, however. This is similar to the commonly told tale of an Irish seer wrapping himself in a bull’s hide, while Druids chant over him, so he may dream of the next king.

In the Chandogya Upanisad, there is a ritual to Savitr that a man should do if he desires to achieve greatness, which includes making offerings to a fire, reciting a Rg verse, and then going to sleep/rest on a skin by the fire, where if he sees a woman, he will know his rite is successful. “When a man sees a woman in his dreams/During a rite to obtain a wish;/ He should recognize its success,/In that dream vision” (5.2). While the exact content of the dream is specific (seeing a woman as a way to divine the success of the ritual), it is still a form of divination similar to the others in that the dream comes after eating in a particular way and then laying down on an animal skin near a fire to sleep/meditate.

These three examples are also very similar to Norse practice of outsitting (utiseta) – wrapping in a blanket or fur skin and sitting on an ancestral mound or crossroads to receive guidance from the ancestors (Sagas of the Icelanders 764). This is particularly noted in the conversion of Iceland to Christianity, where Thorgeirr stays on a mound under a skin for a day and a night to determine the fate of Iceland’s religious future. According to Ceisiwr Serith, “the seer, identified with the dead animal, goes where it goes – to the ancestors. From them the seer acquires knowledge to benefit the community” (Serith 262). While not all of the original texts make clear that it is from the ancestors that the seer receives the knowledge (and in fact, in the Aeneid it is Faunus who gives the information), the three (or four, if you count utiseta) different ritual forms all have enough in common to be counted as one form of divination.

Read Full Post »

After six months of sitting on it, thinking about it, buying books and running out of space to put them (I have plenty of bookshelves in the main part of my house, but I like to keep my obviously druidy books in by my altar, and there’s just not enough space in there), planning what courses to do first, attending (via skype) some workshops at a study group retreat, and otherwise generally kicking around the Initiate’s Path, I decided that instead of trying to force myself to do the hard stuff first (see: Trance and Magic), maybe I’d be better off just FINISHING something.

So I did.

Over the last three weeks, I put together Divination I and submitted it for review last night. I didn’t have to work too hard, though a few questions required more books for source material, and overall it was really satisfying to just get SOMETHING done.

I haven’t decided if I’m posting my IP work here or not. I can definitely post my works cited list for each course, but the courses are long, and each question (there were 11 for Div I) can be one or several blog posts in length, so I’m not sure exactly how to approach that.

As for what’s next, I’m reading the books required for Liturgy I and Liturgy Practicum while I wait for Div I to be reviewed. (I can’t submit anything else until my currently submitted course actually passes.) Liturgy I looks to be mainly an understanding of the different parts of the COoR, which I think I have a pretty good handle on, so hopefully finishing that will just require actually sitting down and writing it out.

And then once I finish Liturgy I, I’m going to work on Divination II and Liturgy Practicum journals together. They seem to dovetail nicely – 5 months of regular divination or ritual practice, documented. Those entries will probably get posted here, since I will be writing them up anyway, and they usually make nice blog post sized chunks. Also if I make it a regular feature to post about them, I’ll be more likely to actually stick with it for 5 months (or 4 in the case of Liturgy). I’ve almost completed the first month of the Div II journal (May), so that’s at least well started.

That said, since I’m going to be doing weekly (or more) divinations for the next four months, if you have questions and you don’t mind a rather amateur rune reading, I’m offering up these readings for free. They may or may not be super detailed, but I need all the practice I can get.

Read Full Post »

The premise that, once you give up on finding the actual text reference of a primary source for a course submission, use a secondary source, and submit the course for review, the next morning you will accidentally run across someone else who cites the primary source(s).

Of course, I don’t own either book that’s cited, and they may be quoting primary sources in secondary sources again, but they sure do look like better references than the ones I used.

Grumble.

Read Full Post »

If I had to pick, I would say I operate in a Vanic-influenced Anglo-Saxon hearth. My rituals draw on Anglo-Saxon symbolism most strongly, but I work primarily with the Vanir/Wanes – the gods and goddesses of the land and fertility, using their Anglo-Saxon names where they are attested (So (usually) Ing Frea and Freo, but also Njord and Nerthus and Frau Holda. And Hela, who kind of is her own category.). It’s an interesting little mishmash, but it suits me well, and seems to work well in practice. There is considerably more information about Scandinavian paganism in particular, but since they’re essentially sister cultures, I don’t mind borrowing too much. I try to stick to Anglo-Saxon myths where they exist, and branch out from there.

That said, I also do a lot that is “ADF” flavored. I love a lot of the ADF language – Fire and Well and Sacred Tree, flow and flame and grow in me, that kind of stuff. Generic and Neopagan, I am drawn to the poetry because it is easy to remember and it rhymes. (Simple, I know, but it works.) My everyday practice isn’t particularly hearth flavored anymore – it revolves more around fire/well/tree and less around specific hearth practices. I’d like to build more hearth flavor into that practice, but it feels odd to combine the two. I need to find a happy medium. (Perhaps just adding runes would be a good start.) Right now I do Anglo-Saxon “influenced” ADF rituals for the high days, and my personal practice is much more Neopagan Druidry. I’m a bit conflicted about this, because … well, I’m not sure why. There’s no rules against doing this (at least in my personal practice) and if it’s working, hey, why not? I would like to do more personal rituals and not just queue them up for the high days though.

I can’t really explain why I’m so drawn to the Anglo-Saxon hearth over just going with the (better documented, more common, more easily accessible) Norse/Scandinavian one, but for some reason the Anglo-Saxons just clicked with me. I blame Alaric Albertsson’s Travels through Middle Earth book primarily, as it resonated so strongly I pretty much immediately started working in an Anglo-Saxon paradigm.

But I still definitely am a modern Pagan and Druid – I have never been and will (probably) never be a reconstructionist. I’m too firmly rooted in working in a modern context for that. I don’t pretend to be reconstructing anything, only using the history and lore as a way to inform and deepen my practice. So I’m a bit of a hybrid, and that seems to be working out just fine for me.

Read Full Post »

I’ve been sitting with my lack of knowledge a lot lately, inspired in part by conversations with Rev. William Ashton, ADF’s newest ordained priest (and someone I’m coming to call a friend, which is pretty neat). There’s just a lot I don’t know, and as someone who is obsessively academic (especially in school-type situations) this bothers me on a deep level. And yet, philosophically, I know that learning and discovery happen on the interface of what is known and what is unknown.

So I have been encouraged to really allow the discomfort of not knowing things to be present, in the hopes of becoming more comfortable with it. Because there’s just so much out there to know, and knowing what you don’t know is the first step towards learning.

In reality, I’ve been a practicing Druid just shy of two years, a practicing Pagan for close to ten. I have completed only the most rudimentary study program that ADF offers and am only just beginning the real coursework of the Initiate’s Path. The ancient Druids were the intelligentsia of their societies, and I’d like my own modern practice to follow in those footsteps (once I’ve done more of it, obviously), but I am still, essentially, a newbie, and there is a LOT that I don’t know. And yet I’m (co)leading a study group – something I think I’m singularly unqualified to do – and trying my best to steer these potential dedicants (and other assorted studiers of things Druidic) into productive and useful practices, and get them acquainted with as much knowledge as they are interested in pursuing.

And on top of that, just this last week, in a discussion about the priesthood and ADF’s clergy training program, one of my groupmates looked me square in the face and said “So are you planning on doing that?” I stammered out something incoherent, and Yngvi replied for me, “Eventually.” I can’t deny I have a calling to it in some form. I know what it means to be a minister (my grandfather is one), and yet I’ve still toyed with ministry (in various forms) in every spiritual pursuit I’ve ever undertaken, from contemplating Methodist seminary, to considering whether I had a Catholic vocation, to pursuing Wiccan initiation, and now to pursuing initiation and possibly clergy training under ADF’s model. In every spiritual path I’ve been part of, I have seriously considered ministry or priest(ess)hood in some form. (I take this to mean that my calling is to serve the folk, not to serve a particular God or set of gods, but that’s just my own interpretation.) Whether that calling will be satisfied with initiation or not, only time will tell. I just don’t know right now.

For some reason that bothers me. I like control, and planning ahead, and knowing where I’m going. I want cold, hard answers to things that just don’t have cold hard answers. The idea that the path will reveal itself as it is walked just makes me inherently uneasy. But the reality is? Two years ago I wouldn’t have ever guessed I’d be where I am (and neither would anyone else I knew, for that matter), so who knows where I’ll be in two years, let alone five or more. (At this rate, still working on the IP; I really need to get moving.)

Until then, though, I can add in the CTP retreat days to help strengthen my spiritual practice, do the coursework, keep my practice alive, and just see where things end up.

And when someone asks me something I don’t know the answer to? Well, that’s just more time to practice this virtue of not knowing.

Read Full Post »

*Ghosti is a concept we hear a lot about in ADF. (The asterisk is used to denote that it is not an attested word, but instead is a linguistically reconstructed word from the Proto-Indo-European language.) Our English words “guest” and “host” both come from this word. Mutual obligations between people are expressed with this concept, as well as the relationship between worshipers and gods.

From an article by Ceisiwr Serith:

*ghosti- is a word in Proto-Indo-European which translates as “someone with whom one has a reciprocal obligation of hospitality.” The English “guest” and “host” both come from this root. That describes the ghosti-relationship nicely. We are both guest and host to those with whom we have a ghosti-relationship; guest on one occasion, and host on another

And the ghosti-principle operates in the relationship between human and divine. We give gifts to the gods, and they give gifts to us. We offer a share of the sacrifice, and they grant us blessings. We are the hosts today, and they are the hosts tomorrow. Sometimes this is called a “do ut des” relationship — “I give that you might give.” It is seen as a cosmic buying off — we pay the gods to get what we want.

There is so much more to it than that, though. It is not a mere business transaction. Exchange is what Indo-European friendships are made of. By engaging in ghosti-relationships with the gods, we become their friends. And since in Indo-European society the king must give more in such a relationship than a commoner, the Great and Shining Ones grant marvelous blessings in return for our more humble gifts.

For me, *ghosti is tied into the virtues that I strive to practice on a daily basis – it is part of piety and hospitality especially, because it defines my relationships with both other humans and the gods and spirits. If I’m honest, I’m not always good at the truly reciprocal form of hospitality with my friends, and I am terrible about remembering people’s birthdays, but I tend to buy random gifts when I find something that strikes me as something that someone I know would love. Or buy them dinner or whatever. I also try very hard to support my friends who are artisans, even when it’s something I could technically make or purchase less expensively elsewhere, because I believe it’s important to support people who are doing and making beautiful things (though that’s less about *ghosti and more about me wanting to support my friends… which I guess is a form of *ghosti in a way).

One of the things that drew me to ADF (and has kept me here) is the idea of a transactional, reciprocal relationship with the gods and spirits around me. I need them and they need me, we mutually support each other through gifts, sacrifice, blessings, and offerings. If I uphold my end of the bargain, they will uphold theirs, in a very mutually beneficial sort of way. This way of thinking just makes sense to me, and it’s been one of the things I was looking for in a religion since before I was part of ADF. Having that relationship, based on mutual respect and “gift giving”, where sometimes I am the gracious guest, and sometimes I am the gracious host, just works for me.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »