Click here for the first part, if you missed it.
Can you tell a god “NO”? Do you have the strength of will to tell a god, who is currently inside of you, that they can’t have something they want? Knowing that if you pissed them off enough, that god could tear your mind, your soul, to pieces in an instant?
This is where is gets really, truly dangerous. Bloody, stupidly dangerous. I’ve heard about it, read about it, seen it with my own eyes. While it is something that may be spoken of and written about, it seem that it is one of those things they don’t often tell you about. Or maybe it is one of those things that people tell you about, but many folks just don’t listen.
People acting as a horse for a god who demands more and more alcohol, leaving the horse with alcohol poising by the end of it.
People who let a god in and awaken the next morning sticky, naked and laying beside someone who they never would have consented to have sex with. Wondering if a condom had been used, wondering what had happened, and if that was the only person.
Gods who once in, refuses to leave until a certain offering is made to them, causing the people in attendance to scramble around, possibly having to rush to a store or other person’s house to find it.
Gods who once inside and approached by someone they dislike, by someone who disbelieves in that god, or by someone who lies to their horse’s face, and are then kicked or hit. Much to the horror of the attendees and the horse.
The gods are dangerous. They can destroy you in an instant. Inside of me, brushing up against my mind and spirit, Frig could have dealt me serious damage with a single lashing.
The gods are powerful. I met a god once who upon seeing me torn asunder in the underworld, put me back together again with the ease of a well practised father reattaching a doll’s head to it’s body. And then demanded a price for his services.
I know of someone who once cut down a tree sacred to the gods, by mistake. Shortly afterwards he died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. His spouse was driven insane with grief.
I know of someone who lied under oath to his elders, swearing by Odin as he did so. And was shortly after hit by a truck, his body broken. While he laid in traction, his wife left him. Being in the USA, the hospital bills caused him to loose what the wife did not take with her. Later, he confessed his lie to his elders and over the next while, found love again, found a good job and rebuilt his life.
I know someone who once promised Freya that she would sacrifice a rabbit to her. A difficult gift for a vegan. She put it off, and put it off. Until she started dreaming of rabbits. She poured an expensive wine into a beautiful wooden bowl, asking Freya to accept this offering instead. The next morning the bowl had been split in half, where it lay, the wine ruining the altar cloth, as flies buzzed around it.
More than once, I have been penniless, jobless and living under another’s roof and hospitality. Exhausted, depressed and feeling hopeless. Walking on blistered feet, desperately searching for a job in a strange city. A homeless man with one black eye swollen shut, a long grey beard and a cane asked me for spare change. I gave him half of my last dollars. And shortly after found a job, a home and my way in a new city.
It’s one of those things people don’t like to talk about. How the gods are bigger than us. So much MORE than us. How dangerous and difficult and capricious and troublesome they can be. We want the gods to be our friends. Many people i know want to feel as if they are on equal footing as the gods. They refuse to consider having something in universe bigger and stronger than they are.
We want an all-knowing, all-loving, omnipresent super goddess who changes everything she touches and everything she touches changes. Who never, ever, gets angry with us, because she is beyond anger, or hate or spite.
Never mind what the lore tells us. Gods who rape. Gods who kill. Gods who lie, cheat and steal. Gods who lash out in jealously. Gods who betray their kin. Gods who impulsively give up their sword for a nice piece of ass, and thus must fight the battle at the end of all things with an antler in hand.
Those are just myths, of course. They don’t mean anything. Except when they do.
I try to talk to people about how the gods are so powerful, so awesome and greater-than. How terrifying they can be. I’m usually just misunderstood. Perhaps I do not articulate it well enough. Perhaps people just don’t want to think about it.
Perhaps most people never experience these things, because most of us never move beyond the basics. Most of us will never invite the hurricane in our heads. Most of us will never be torn apart by nice little birdies in the underworld and need to make a deal with the Master to get put back together again.
Do you have the balls to tell Frig She can’t have any more plums? Do you have any idea how much balls and sass it takes to do just that? Do you have any idea how stupidly dangerous it can be?
I’ve seen it before, read about it and heard about it. One of those things they do tell you about, sometimes. If during such a rite, you just start giving the god anything they demand, they will keep demanding. Rituals derailed as everyone scrambles to find more plums, and then have to sit there for an hour as they watch Frig eat a bag of plums. Holding a horse’s hair away from her face while she pukes up a belly full of plums. You can ask them to take away the drunkenness, or make sure the horse doesn’t get sick from eating a pound of plums. Sometimes they will do just that.
It’s a risk you have to be willing to take when you do this kind of work. The chance you might find yourself with battered and bruised feet, a sick stomach full of plums, a wicked hang over, a STD because the god riding you decided to screw someone. You also have to be willing and able to say no, if you can. Maybe they won’t listen, maybe they will get pissed off and lash out, maybe they will just leave, maybe you’ll ruin your relationship with them for good. Maybe you’ll wind up a poet, a witch, a madman or dead.
You have to be able to calculate the risks. If you aren’t willing to accept the risks, don’t do this kind of work. It’s okay to decide it’s not for you.
So I told Frig no more plums. Thankfully she was okay with that. Such a nice goddess. The next person came up to ask their question and she was back on task, the plums forgotten. Thank goodness gods are often easily distracted. No more mead for you…here have a shiny thing!
Sometimes she was more present than others and sometimes I was more present than others. Hence the spotty memory, I suppose. I remember some of the questions and not others. Like the offerings, in many cases I remember a question but not which person asked it. Or I remember a person coming up to the high seat, but not the question they asked.
Once a person had asked their question, they chose a few pieces from my casting collection and placed them in the bowl in our lap. Together we read the augry. I know my set well enough to recognize the pieces by feel, even the polished stones. A very interesting thing, that I will ponder and utilise, is that she had a slightly different take on the meanings/symbolism of a few of the pieces. Her impressions of them were similar but not quite the same.
There were cases where only one piece really mattered, others where each piece chosen mattered. Cases where the pieces only reinforced what she already was going to say. Cases where she read the pieces and then added something else as well.
Watching Frig use my set was very educational and I’m glad I chose to go that route. Typically, you don’t use a divinatory device during such a rite, the god simply answers the questions. They already know the answer. However, my set is very important to me, and a major part of my practice. I figured that if she wasn’t interested in it, she would ignore it. Her willingness to use it, her approval of it, and her showing me different interpretations of some of the pieces was very rewarding!
A lot of folks had a hard time finding the bowl in our lap. It was very dark. I’m told that the darkness surrounding the high seat grew even deeper whenever Frig was strongest in me. A few people struggled to find the bowl, a couple missed it entirely, but she was patient. At one point she picked up the bowl and waved it around a bit, I think to help the questioner find it.
One piece from the set kept being chosen, over and over again. Thorn. The little stick of hawthorn, shaped like a stang. Sometimes she ignored the piece and sometimes she read it. I began to worry the bag wasn’t be shaken well enough, so in response, she pointed one imperious finger at Grey and commanded her to shake the bag. Still, Thorn kept coming up. A message for me? A message for the group? Both? A strange coincidence? I do not know. More to meditate on. In my set Thorn is used to symbolise witchcraft, magick, the cunning arts and so forth. Though amongst a bunch of Heathens, Thorn could take on a slightly different meaning.
Eventually, everyone who dared to had come before the high seat. Grey asked Frig if she was done? In response, she knocked my stang/distaff over. Grey and I had agreed that if at any point, I needed the ritual to end, I would knock down the distaff. If I could, if I had enough control to do so. I don’t recall explaining this to Frig, but being in my head, she knew.
So they thanked Frig and hailed her. Then chant asking her to leave me was sung. Grey cut the cord and began to remove my draperies. I lost all thought and consciousness as she left me. She went as gently as she came and it almost felt like dozing off on a lazy summer afternoon.
I heard my friends calling my name. Calling me back. I struggled toward the sound of their voices, slowing spreading myself back within myself. Filling my own vessel once again. Suddenly, Grey pulled off the veil I wore. It was like when your mother rips the blankets off the bed, to wake you, on a cold morning. I must have made a very unhappy face! It was less than pleasant and suddenly very cold. Mental note for next time: always tell you handmaiden to SLOWLY remove the veil! However it did the trick, and with a few groans and stretches I was back properly in my body, my mind fairly settled. I was back amongst the folk.
“Hey Juni” Grey said tenderly, as she bent over me.
“Hey” I said back and leaned forward for a hug.
Then I said; “I have to pee.”