The Binding of Fenrir

It is a gorgeous November morning. I am sitting next to an open window, a cool breeze wrapping itself around me as I type, hot mug of coffee keeping me company. It's been a long six months. I've not tended to my blog as often as I would like to largely because of the busy-ness of my professional life, and the turbulence of my personal life. But today I am making space.

I suspect that Instagram has been both a help and a hindrance to writing longer blog posts: on one hand it's a wonderful medium for expression when I can't (or don't want to) be exhaustive with my language. I can post every day, as much or as little as I like, which means that consistency isn't a challenge. However that very thing also diverts my energies away from focused posts in this platform. It's always therapeutic, in a way, to put thoughts to "paper," and I am working on ways to integrate blogging back into my more regular practice again. That said, if you don't already follow me on Instagram, you can find me at @firstearthtarot :)

So back to the moment. In many ways the texture of my life seems to be finding a calmer and more predicable pattern after a 2017 spent largely on destruction, release, reorganization, new connections, purging, dis-integration, chaos, discomfort - you know, fire and brimstone, basically. The Tower was a pretty common daily draw. And yet while life is ebbing away from the deep, frequent (and exhausting) rise-and-fall of energetic currents, there are artifacts left in the wake; items that cannot simply be strolled over, but that rather urgently demand the attentions of my consciousness. It is the next phase in some new and unfolding chapter. An IG challenge prompt for today asked:

What is really holding me back? (And how can I work with that energy?)

Surt 🔥 and Fenrir 🐺 from the Giants Tarot:

A powerful duo, that speaks in layers and very clearly. Fenrir's is an interesting tale. Son of Loki and Angrboda, it was prophesied that he would be Odin’s end, and so the Aesir bound him on an isolated isle until Ragnarok. The funny thing about prophecies is that we can never be entirely sure that the actions we take to avoid them aren’t precisely the actions that cause them to manifest. Perhaps it was the very binding of Fenrir that produced the deep, ferocious, all-consuming fury that ensured Odin’s ultimate demise.

It is interesting to speak of binding when the prompt today is itself about restraint.

What am I holding back? 
What lurking shadows act like chains to my limbs? 
What simmering power must be released from its pot in order not to boil over? 
Will restraint lead to resentment, a wave of potent sentiment that only ever turns back on itself eventually?

If the Aesir had not bound Fenrir, but developed relationship with him (as had Tyr prior to betrayal), how might the story have been different?

So, perhaps the key lies in the (continued) deepening of my relationship to my own shadow self; it lies in making space to understand and recognize those emotions, to let them breathe, so that they do not consume me. 🔥🐺⛓🔥

Week Ahead: Finish What You Start

Last Monday I drew two cards to highlight the predominant energies for the week ahead: Queen of Cups and High Priestess. Both were very relevant themes, and so on this Monday I decided to do to the same. After shuffling and cutting the deck I noticed that the "shadow card" was the High Priestess, forming a sort of thread of connection from one week to the next.

The two principal cards that I drew from the Giants Tarot were Death (Hela) reversed, and the 8 of Pentacles (Olvalde and Sons):

Hela is the goddess of the underworld, and Olvalde was an etin renowned for his ale-brewing skills.

This pair tells me that I'll be working diligently to tie up loose ends, to finish what I've begun, to work toward closing out projects. Indeed there is one rather large project that I've been wanting to finish for the past two weeks, but it keeps getting pushed off due to other urgent, more immediate issues that have been cropping up here and there of late.

Along another vein, when I see Olvalde and his kids on the 8 of Coins card, I see myself and my three kids making magic happen in the kitchen. So just maybe we'll see what fun we can cook up this week. Teaching the kids to make meals is such an 8 of Coins activity, and watching them grow into competent little chefs who can whip up some very nice grub is extraordinarily satisfying.

Have a happy week, everyone!

Update: It was indeed a productive week! I made a lot of progress on a pile of files I had been needing to tend to, and one of my team members ended up helping to revise the dregs of that big project that had been on the back burner.

Circles, Cycles, Dreams, and Runes

On Monday I thought I'd pull a pair of cards for the week from the Giants Tarot. The Queen of Cups (Ran) came flying out of the deck, and I drew the High Priestess (Angrboda) as her complement. What an interesting pair, I thought, regarding their close partnership: water, intuition, passivity, contemplation, wisdom, femininity, emotional intelligence.

This morning I decided to take the day off to spend with my kids, as tomorrow they all begin once again that spiral dance of the school cycle, with my son just embarking on his own as he takes his first steps into Kindergarten. So I was sitting at the kitchen table nursing my second cup of coffee and continuing my journey through Futhark (by Edred Thorsson, a.k.a. Stephen Flowers). I paused when my husband came to the table, and pulled out the Earthbound Oracle; he pulled a card, I pulled a card. I drew Luna, that perfect, pale circle. I thought how fitting it was to pull this moon after having drawn two very closely aligned Tarot cards for the week. More water, cycles, and emotional food for thought. 

I kept reading.

I read Thorsson's discussion of the cosmic void from which the runic system and its energies descend, about how Odin, Vili, and Ve gave form and structure to those energies in the creation of the multiverse. And as I flipped the page I saw a diagram of the futhark pattern of manifestation, a series of concentric circles expanding out from a central point, a core out of which the runes arrange themselves in linear patterns. As I examined the diagram it touched on a dream I had back in May, and I opened my journal to find the entry I had written about it.

My dream was not obviously runic. I had it at a time when I was struggling a bit with how to incorporate two different religious/spiritual traditions and cosmologies into my personal practice - could I integrate Santería and the Northern Tradition harmoniously? Would I, or should I, choose only one? In many ways I have come to understand that Santería has both brought me more fully to the Northern Tradition, and has helped me contextualize it. I understand Northern cosmology more intimately because of my understanding of Lucumí cosmology. I understand and relate to the deities as individual energies and unique personalities because of my relationships with the Orishas. I don't mix and match faiths - I believe in tradition, and value depth above breadth. Santería was not a religion I had sought out - it became a part of me through my cohabitation with the saints over a period of a decade or more, and via my husband. One day I realized that the saints were alive within me, a part of my family, guides, and protectors, and teachers, and friends. It doesn't get much more organic than that. This was the point at which I formally entered into the mystery religion by way of initiation, and has been, and continues to be, a source of great sustenance for me.

Through ancestral veneration and exploration I more fully began to explore the Northern Tradition as a way of connecting to my Scandinavian/Germanic forebears (I wrote about this in a previous post). And as I delved into the Eddas and the Northern cosmology, the runic system, I found so much richness and satiation. It grew and expanded in my heart, mind, and spirit, such that it became far deeper than simply "honoring history." And yet I found myself worrying about whether or not I could, or should, practice two religions at the same time. Was it right? Was it doable? Could I fully embrace both without sacrificing either? My intellect was struggling, but my heart told me that it was my own limited, "human" thinking that was raising a fuss over compartmentalization; my heart told me that there was no conflict here.

While my dream was not runic, per se, it mirrored this futhark pattern of manifestation. In my dream I felt the presence of Odin, and I could see what seemed like a picture of the cosmos, as if I were in outer space. Concentric circles of cloud-like material surrounded a central point, like the Earth, and the idea was that the image before me was showing how throughout time old gods and goddesses would slowly dissipate and new gods and goddesses would develop to take their places, but that ultimately they were all part of the same force. There was great comfort in that. These deities and entities exist both sequentially and simultaneously in time.

A rough depiction of my dream

I knew that I could, and would, continue to walk this path, and that I would learn how to "do both" through the process of living it out, as opposed to trying to intellectualize it all. At times I feel like Odin and Obatalá - all of the gods and goddesses and orishas - are friendly associates, conferring with each other, working together, supporting one another in the pursuit of the same ultimate end-goals. I have always felt that Elegua, my best friend, held my hand, and opened the door for me to explore this ancestral history. I have at times sensed that Odin is happy for me to "make saint," and supports me in the endeavor. When I think about it, it makes sense - Odin is the ultimate explorer. He would not impose limitations, rather he would promote my exposure to all of the good that the universe has to offer, no matter its form.

In the end, the universe, the experience of "being," is so dynamic. Insofar as our own progress is concerned, we are often our own worst enemies, placing barriers where none exist, projecting our own limitations onto divine forces, creating rules of engagement that are ultimately fabrications of our own attempt at understanding the Great Mystery (or putting that mystery in a tidy box)*. As a human, I acknowledge that I don't know much at all, and that I do fear and worry from time to time. But when all is said and done, I am open to receiving that mystery, even when I can do nothing but simply accept it.




*I don't believe in picking and choosing the "favorable" parts of a religious tradition, and throwing out the rest, nor do I (generally speaking) support the practice of honoring a patchwork pantheon of various deities outside of the context of their history, culture, and original traditional framework. There is too much room for cultural appropriation there. I do, however, believe that there is far more flexibility in the spiritual world than humans tend to acknowledge or allow for.

The Prettiest Feet: Skadi's Lesson in Discernment

Day 28 of the spirit guide challenge asked: "How can I strengthen this view, or improve my relationship with self?" I drew Justice/Skadi from the Giants Tarot.

I pulled a version of this card back on day 10 for "how my guide is helping me primarily now," so it was nice to see it again here. Some puzzle pieces start to fall into place. The other day I drew "Air" (from the Earthbound Oracle) in response to what my guide sees in me that I can't or don't, and air is the element associated with Justice. 🌬 It seems to me that my guide is helping me recognize and honor this part of myself and in turn requests that I continue to spend some time exploring those aspects of myself and how they pertain to my personal development.

There are a lot of attributes of Skadi that connect to concepts of justice, fairness, adjustment, and even retribution. But one of them strikes me as particularly relevant: Skadi had to choose a husband solely by the looks of his feet.

Skadi's father, the Giant Thjassi, wanted the Aesir goddess Iduna for his own, and when caught in a tight spot, Loki agreed to arrange that for him. But of course the Aesir were upset and demanded that Loki find a way to bring her back....which he did, however it resulted in the death of Thjassi. So Skadi came to Asgard demanding compensation or war, and the Gods made her an offer. Ultimately she agreed to two things: they would have to make her laugh, and she would get to marry any Aesir/Vanir of her choosing. Odin agreed to the first (which Loki successfully accomplished) but for the second, Odin consented on the condition that she would have to choose her husband based on the looks of his feet alone.

Odin severely limited her perception and then obliged her to choose a life partner - an impossible task. But then Skadi executed her power of choice through rather superficial means. She assumed that Baldur, the God of beauty, peace, and light (who she was planning to select), would surely have the loveliest feet. She was quite surprised to find that they in fact belonged to the weathered sea God Njörd, whose extended time in sand and surf had kept his feet looking quite youthful and elegant.

So what does this all mean?

Well two sayings come to mind immediately: "Don't judge a book by its cover," and "Assuming makes an ass out of u and me."

When Odin restricted Skadi's perception, the wise thing to do might have been to expand her thinking rather than only considering what was before her. She chose based solely on what she could see, and was quite confident in the accuracy of her decision, despite knowing that she was only getting a small fragment of the whole package. In the end she found her logical approach to be faulty. (This isn't a criticism, because without the story, there is no lesson.)

So, when confronting a situation in which we must make important decisions, we have to use careful discernment. We must consider not only what we can see, but what we can't. We must open ourselves to the bigger picture, to a variety of the angles and possibilities inherent in a matter - we must be willing to accept that there may be more than what meets the eye, and then make a choice to explore that nebulous territory. And then, part of discernment is knowing when we simply don't have enough information to make a truly balanced decision at all, and being willing to embrace that challenging space.

The fact is that we don't live in a concrete, black-and-white world. This story shows us that there is beauty in the haggard, and there are imperfections in the seemingly perfect.

Njörd and Skadi tried to make it work (she gets a lot of points for sticking with her pick, and he does too, for agreeing to marry a woman he knew didn't prefer him) but neither were particularly happy. He missed the sea and she missed the mountains. In the end they parted ways as friends, which is just another powerful lesson in the benefits inherent in making decisions and agreements from a fair and whole place.

This seems like a small and humorous part of the whole story of Skadi's search for justice, but I think that it is a deeply meaningful one, and that the lessons it teaches are critical to walking our paths with mindfulness and balance.

Gefion Takes Me For a Spin

A few days ago the "spirit guide challenge" on Instagram featured the following prompt: "How do my personal relationships detract from my current development?" I was curious as to how this reading exercise would unfold as I don't have any "bad" relationships, so to speak, and I tend to find even the personal challenges and conflicts to be good learning experiences.

First I drew Gefion from Das Germanische Götterorakel, and I did indeed have one of those WTF moments; I ended up drawing Hel (Death) from the Giants Tarot as a secondary pull.

But knowing that Gefion held some important element that would simply take more digging and sitting and thinking, I did just that.

I love Gefion, but she has so much positive energy I was having a hard time placing it with the prompt. Gefion is said to have provided so much merriment to the court of the Swedish King Gylfi that he repaid her by allowing her to keep as much land as she could plow around in a single day. She brought in her four Giant sons, turned them into bulls, and they helped her plow a massive swath of land that she then brought over to Denmark (it is said to be the island of Zealand (Sjaelland).

Two of Gefion's more salient characteristics are that she has formidable work ethic, and she knows how to have a good time with a mug of mead and group of people. I see a lot of myself in Gefion - she is independent, she knows how to take care of business, she cares a lot for the well-being of women. She is quite a force. But what she is that I am not is particularly sociable. I tend to be private and contained - friendly, laid back, communicative when it matters - but not sociable.

The other day I was sitting in a directors meeting and was feeling rather chipper so I thought I'd share some good developments with my colleagues. I prefaced it by saying, "I know I'm quiet and you probably can't tell how I ever feel so I'm going to make it clear - I am super happy!" And they all laughed uproariously! It was a humorous moment, but definitely confirmed my suspicion that I'm a bit hard to get to know. Incidentally next week there is a "happy hour" get together for the women in leadership. I'd been hemming and hawing about attending because those events definitely push me outside of my comfort zone. But Gefion seemed to be saying that that is precisely what I should do - that work is important, but the social ties do matter. As I had that thought we were driving down the highway and I looked up and right at a sign that said "111" (a series that has been following me around quite a bit lately). That felt like a little pat on the head ("Yes, you got it!"). In that light, Hel's appearance made complete sense: I have to release in order to become. I'm glad I let Gefion say her piece!