Of wolves among men

Some very exciting spiritual things have been afoot. I've been working steadily at getting through Taking Up The Runes. I had tried once and found myself overwhelmed, but I think I was ready to learn them this time, since I feel more comfortable with my learning. Paxson has earned herself though the dubious distinction of writing the only book I've ever willfully defaced with both pen and highlighter. Long after the book was bought I found out she has some yucky "subtle racism" stuff going on - nothing neo-nazi but just... naive and facepalm worthy, so I've had to make some, um, corrections. I'd have turned to a better book, except there don't appear to be any - every rune book I've uncovered has some nasty "folkish" heathen baggage attached, so it's come to "learn what I can, take the rest with a grain of salt". Sigh.

But the past week or so, I've been thinking a lot about certain animals, their place in myth, spirituality, and science.

A new-ish totem creature has been emerging for me, one whose symbolically ascribed meanings tend towards gluttony, savagery, attitude for days, wild animal abandon, and general orneriness. It's a little known critter, and upon good old fashioned learning about the animal and it's behavior, is not nearly so ornery as is thought. I've decided to learn what this little creature has to teach me, not just in what others think of her, but in what she feels like to me. And this got me thinking.

I read a piece I stumbled upon from March, (Link) about wolves in heathenry, how many people call themselves "wolves among men" or "wolves of Odin" as a sort of fancy title for themselves. The article pondered that wolves are enemies, preying on the weak, gluttonous and greedy and dangerous - that they are not things to emulate, they are things to defend our communities against. The wolves who accompany the Alfather do so because one of his aspects is death, so the wolves are not the most positive side of him. Wolves are the dangerous outsiders stealing our sheep, and threatening our very lives when we enter the woods.

 If those qualities truly belonged to the wolf, I'd be inclined to agree that "wolf people" are perhaps to be avoided. But I happen to know a wolf person, and I also know a decent amount about wolves. So the question I asked myself was - when we work with animal spirits, symbols, archetypes, totems - should we rely only on the mythology of these creatures - or, should we look too, to what we know about them in the modern day?

Wolves are not dangerous antisocial predators among their own - far from it. Wolves are born and bred to be social, it is part of their DNA. The pack hunts together, lives together, shares in caring for the young, and protects each other from their rivals. Wolves are loyal in that way,  and their familial bonds are crucial to their survival. While wolves are territorial, packs do interact, and "lone wolves" may find packs to join and become a part of a community in this way.
As for gluttony, it is true that wolves gorge massive amounts of meat at a kill - sometimes more than 20 pounds in a sitting. But wolves also succeed in the hunt less than 10% of the time - this is not gluttony, but opportunity. An animal who may spend a week or more between meals must make the most of what he can. If moments of joy are few and far between in a world rather at odds with how a lot of us would like to be living, drinking every drop that comes your way is making the most and best of life while you can. (To be fair though, calling yourself a "wolf among sheep" is perhaps something of a predatory statement - or perhaps you're such a rather inept wolf that penned sheep are all you can catch. )

The wolves that appear in Norse myth are certainly not benevolent by and large, but they have their place, too. Fenrir will slay Odin at Ragnarok, and play his part in the end of the world, but when the dust settles, a new world has begun. Death is part of life - you can't have one without the other. In our modern world, the fear of the wolf can subside - though their place in mythology is important, they are an intrinsic part of the world we live in, the cycle of life and death that is woven in all of nature. If you would see the wolf as only a force of destruction and chaos, remember that our planet was born a ball of fire and gas, and that everything eventually breaks to become something new.

So many of these animals were once our ancient foes, and we were right to fear them, for they are mighty and formidable - but now, as the natural world vanishes before we are even done understanding it, remember that between wolves and men, only one kills for sport, consumes more than he ever needs, and doesn't look after his brothers. I've learned the hard way this past year, that sometimes the enemy is already living inside the gates.

I think I'll stick with the wolves.

Thought and Memory

A lot has happened.

I suspect 99% of the folks reading this will know a bit about why I've been gone so long. Long story short, we are now happy homeowners in a house that is finally feeling like home. I had a rough mental health spell - one of my worst ever - but I got the help I needed, and though it was a very hard time, I managed to keep going, get up every morning and go to work, eat, drink, sleep, so that is something.

And now I'm doing very well!

Our new home has a small third bedroom that has become our sacred/altar room - that is its only function, and it is so incredible to have such a space. No more altar crammed into a corner of the bedroom - I've allowed my altar to stretch out, giving me a good chunk of space to have my "seasonal" setup, and also a mostly clear space where I can "work" - and numerous shelves and nooks to give me gods and spirits space. Some things are still empty-ish, but it's always a work in progress, but it's been a lot of fun getting it set up the way I wanted it.

Our yard is incredible - again once we get it cleaned up, and get a privacy fence put in, it's going to be an amazing space for fires, drinks, parties, barbecues - and rituals.

I've gone through some pretty crazy spiritual changes and transformations - I'm working with a specific animal right now as a sort of "totem" and am feeling very strongly drawn to start looking into more shamanic practices. (I guess not a huge shock given my relationship with Odin.) More on that later!

My spiritual path and my personal life recently got shaken up a bit. Revelation comes sometimes for me in bursts - I realized a situation was no longer even remotely healthy for me, and in one of those deepthought flashes, I realized it had not, in fact, been healthy for a very long time-years in fact. It takes a lot for me to throw up my hands and walk away. But I will not be mistreated, held to unreasonable expectations, and taken for granted, either. The severing was not gentle or without blood, but it was necessary and beautiful in its finality.

I've felt better, been happier, less stressed, more social, more me ever since.

Our Ostara ritual was beautiful. There were four of us - myself and my wife, our friend the Wolf, and a fourth friend whom we haven't been able to practice with in awhile. She brought her dog, who found our ritual spot for us, then lay quietly within the circle and was on her absolute best behavior until we were done.

In case anyone was wondering, natural dyes do work *fantastically* on eggs. These are yellow onion skins (The dark red-orange) red cabbage (the blue) and beets (the soft brown).

My wife got me an amazing set of tarot cards for my birthday - The Animal Totem Tarot by Leeza Robertson. It's a new deck, just released in late March - unlike most of the animal themed decks I've seen, this one tries to still incorporate a good chunk of symbolism from more "traditional" decks. And the artwork is simply gorgeous, to boot.

The only downside to my days are that my grandmother is increasingly unwell. She's fallen prey to the only illness my family has a strong genetic predisposition to - Alzheimer's. Every week now she gets worse - she no longer knows my aunt, who's lived with her for more than 40 years. They are trying, finally, to get her into a care facility, but it could take years for approval and a bed to come up. It makes me heartbroken to know how much she's lost - this is a woman who was adamant she never wanted to be a burden to anyone,  and kept a journal every single day of her life so she'd never forget a thing. She'd write about my visits, what we did - did I help in the garden, did we play in the yard? She kept a separate logbook for her garden - what was planted, what worked, what didn't - what colour of this or that flower, what type of peas and beans and beet seeds she used. How many pints of raspberries she picked. To see her so far gone that she wouldn't even recognize those journals, now, as hers...it does hurt. But only time will tell now - in some ways I hope that she passes quickly from her illness, rather than linger for another countless number of years not remembering who she is.

I'll have more specific things to talk about soon - some of my spiritual growth, my changes, what I've learned. I just wanted to give everyone a big catch-up on where the hell I've been.

Turning the Wheel

We celebrated Samhain with a bang this year. We always do something, if we're not away, but this year we did a fairly planned ritual, and invited a bunch of good friends to join. We made poppets, and buried ourselves in effigy to "lay to rest" a part of ourselves that no longer served. My coven dressed in robes with eerie face paint to play spectres of death, silently joining us on a winding path into the woods and our spot there. We celebrated afterward with a feast of finger foods and snacks. All in all, it was a lovely night. I feel like my focus was more on "running" the ritual and keeping to my part, more so than participating in the intent of the ritual, but that's OK with me. I think of it as a worthy small sacrifice, that maybe this ritual was more for others than for myself. It was a ton of fun and looked awesome, and went off mostly hitch-free. Can't say fairer than that. 

The clocks went back Sunday morning (we observe DST here). The change is an abrupt and jarring one, going from dusky in the morning when I leave for work, to sunny (for now) and it is now dark when I leave. This means I take the bus in the evening now rather than walk, which sadly robs me of a good chunk of my physical activity every day. (My walk takes me through a less than great neighbourhood. I won't travel it alone after dark.) 

The change is a forced reminder that Samhain is the end of fall, that the darkness we celebrate is not just death, not just the memory of those who have gone before, but the coming months of dark with the turn of the seasons.

I have a love/hate relationship with winter. 

I hate being cold, hate a runny nose and burning cheeks and everything hurting for 20 minutes after I've come inside as blood returns to chilled limbs. I hate dragging under the weight of boots and a heavy coat. I hate getting on the bus the morning to go to work on a day to supposed to storm, knowing I may get stranded, may not get home til 3 hours later than I should, knowing I should be home safe and warm. I hate Christmas, a new development. I hate commercial Christmas. Carols start playing here November 1, all the stores are already waving signs in my face reminding me that my love is quantified by how much I spend on my loved ones. 

But I love the pure silence and dark of a night where snow is falling, glittering on the grass, under the streetlights. I love the crunch of hardened snow under my boots. The clean white clinging to trees like they've been glittered with diamonds. I love seeing new birds, birds from the north seeking refuge where it's warmer, but not too warm. I love feeling drawn in close to home and my chosen family, celebrating with food and drink, honouring our heritage, our ancestors, and our bonds with each other. I love being warm inside and watching the wind howl and snow swirl outside. 

I love hearing the earth stir in her sleep.

When I was younger and my life was run by school time, the seasons seemed to have less meaning than they do now. Summer meant freedom, as did Christmas, winter meant the occasional snow day. Fall was the embodiment of evil, the unwelcome return to drudgery and boredom. I had no appreciation for the season itself and what it meant.

 Maybe it's something I'm growing into with age, or as I get closer to my practice and spirituality. I feel the wheel turn, feel the earth in her cycles and know in my heart that every time has a purpose, snotty mittens and all.