Charming of the Plough

• Disting—A Norse celebration of the Disr (female ancestors) and Freyja, who is most manifest in her erotic attributes at this time.
• Grundsaudaag (Groundhog Day)—A Dietsche celebration of the great American prognosticator.
• Imbolc or Oimelc (ewe’s milk)—A Celtic celebration; festival of the goddess Brigid.
• Landsegen (land-blessing), or “Charming of the plow”—A Germanic Heathen rite where farming tools (or other “work” tools) are blessed. The land is honored and cofgoda (household spirits) are venerated.
• Solmonath (Sun Month)—An Anglo-Saxon time to celebrate renewal.
• Vali’s blot—A mid-February celebration for Vali, the god of vengeance and rebirth.

Halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox is a cross-quarter day which many Pagans will be celebrating tomorrow as Imbolc. Here at our hof, we will be celebrating creation—the act as well as its manifestation.

Imbolc is particularly important to our Kindred. It was two years ago that we celebrated our first ritual on our land: The Charming of the Plough. Last February, for Imbolc we had another first. We joined with a group of Druids who welcomed us with the warmth and spiritual devotion we just knew was out there. Seven of us trekked out to another grove and saw a fresh possibility for our own Pagan community. And we found a wonderful sister along the way.

This year we are celebrating with yet another group of Pagans on their land. It was not a planned coincidence, but it seems to be a happy one.

But before we head out to the woods, we are meeting on our own land to “activate” our landwarden, honor the land, venerate our cofgoda, and reflect on creation.

In the Germanic creation myth, the realms of fire and ice melded together in a place called Ginnungagap—that yawning primordial sacred void—where our worlds (all nine of them) took form. When we talk about Ginnungagap in our tradition we envision the “womb of the world”—or of all nine worlds—the sacred space of creation. Therefore, the image of Ginnungagap becomes very apropos to all of the celebrations related to Imbolc.

In the Disting, where Freyja is venerated in her most voluptuous form, the deference for the fecundity of all things—creation and procreation—is apparent.

All hail Freyja the sexy!

Persephone’s Womb by James Ward

The Celtic Imbolc and the veneration of fiery Brigid is not far removed from the Germanic Disting and Freyjablot. The hearth—the womb of the home, if you will—is traditionally tended at Imbolc, as are all things that hold fire: candlesticks, incense burners, etc. are proper to maintain at Imbolc.

In observing Grundsaudaag, our Deitsche kindred to the north not only give credence to the natural cycle of the seasons and the observation of animal-life, but there are also many spiritual elements imbedded in the image of the Groundhog. Like Ratatask, the groundhog is seen as an inter-worldly traveler and messenger. At Imbolc, the veil is almost as thin as it is at Winternights or Samhain. (The spirits that fly out with the Wild Hunt are flying back to the land at this time.) This makes it an excellent time for oracles and communication with the other-side. The groundhog tells us more than the weather.

Plus, just one look at a groundhog burrow and you can see both the connection between the openings of the burrow and the paths on Yggdrasil as well as the womb-like formation of the subterranean abode. This relates back to Freyja, creation, and reproduction. A perfect image of the new life that is gestating just below the crust of the earth.

Groundhog Burrow by VintageRetroAntique

This is why we include a Landsege or land-blessing: “The Charming of the Plow.” We set aside a moment to honor the land that sustains us and the cofgoda that protect and live among us. And since my particular household, where our hof is located, is aligned with Gefjon —plows are kinda a big deal.

As the main element of our Landsege, we activate our landwarden—what our Deitscherei neighbors call a Butzemann.[1] It is at this time of year that the spirits of the Wild Hunt are returning to the land. We want to welcome them with a place to inhabit. In exchange, they become part of the family and give us their protection.

We believe in a life-death-rebirth cycle as so many of our agricultural ancestors did. So the landwarden is made of last year’s crops and “planted” in this year’s earth which he will make fertile and where his “children” will grow. Think about that image. I see the posting of a landwarden as a form of hiros gamos. A sacred marriage between the people and the land.

There’s so much to talk about in each of these points, I could go on for a season. Nonetheless, we can’t have a nekid landwarden tomorrow, so I’m off to sew him some clothes!

Whatever you are doing tomorrow, however you mark the day, I wish you well.

Wæs þu hæl!

To my dear Kindred, we have just celebrated two years of togetherness. We have acted as agents of creation, we have planted new seeds, we have nurtured the environment so that we can see growth. In our third year, I hope our roots will grow stronger and our branches more supportive.

I love each one of you individually, but as a whole? You rock my world.

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[1] Basically, a scarecrow—only not. When I was a kid, I thought these were called Puts Men. I thought this was because it was a “man” you “put” among  your crops. When I found out it was a derivation of another word? *facepalm*

PBP Weeks 21: J –Jarls and Judicial Assemblies

It’s a Thing.

No, really. We call our assemblies a “Thing.”

In Germanic and Celtic societies all of the “free folk” (this is why Anglo Saxons also call assemblies “folkmoot”) would gather to have their grievances heard by a legislative mediator called a “lawspeaker.” This process eventually morphed into modern Parliament, and in some ways, our own Supreme Court.[1] Back in the day, when tribes, or theod, were *required* to avenge injuries done to their kindred, in order to keep the peace between tribes,[2] the equalizing convention was the Thing. Folks would come before the assembly, made up of all the free members of a community, speak their piece, hear the judgment, and then be bound to follow through with it. Then? Then let it go. The customary law of the community, or thews, were binding to both sides—plaintiff and respondent. Once balance was achieved between warring tribes, it was best to let sleeping dogs lie. Don’t pick the scab, etc.

The kinds of things that are paid are weregild and shild.

Weregild is payment for death or injury. Like today, if you commit a crime that is not necessarily punishable with incarceration, you may still incur civil damages. For instance, should you ruin (or try to ruin) someone’s reputation in a malicious and dishonest way, there are legal ramifications. In today’s coursts, we all know that slander and libel are punishable with punitive fines determined by the measure of the injury. Likewise, weregild was paid depending on the “value” of what was taken (life, limb, ability to work, even reputation). Therefore, if you murdered the head of a household (or otherwise caused them to lose their means of income), you had to make reparations so that the family feel no financial loss. If you murdered or injured a community leader, chieften or priest, the weregild was higher since more folk would be “shortchanged” by the loss you created. Unlike today where courts establish fines and “damages” after the fact, the folk typically knew where a man’s (or woman’s) weregild was valued. In some cultures a women’s weregild (weragild?) was far more than a man’s; in other cultures it was the other way around.

Please, oh, please read this bit I wrote about Moby Dick and weregild while on an incredible intellectual high. For today is summer and I now has the dumb.

Shild, on the other hand, is a payment for unthewfulness; it is a payment for failing to uphold an oath. Not unlike breach of contract conditions written into treaties, shild is something typically set at the time of the oathmaking.

A Jarl, or Oearl as we say,[3] is the chosen chieften of a tribe to whom the folk bind themselves, often with an oath swearing ceremony. Oaths sworn on rings (really arm-torques and neck-torques, not normally finger rings) are performed at “thanings” (to be a thegn or thane was not to be a slave or servant,[4] but rather a loyal companion) where each oathmaker swears their troth (OE treowð) to the kindred—this means that they swear their “truth,” swear to keep faithfulness to the community. It’s a binding pledge of loyalty, and is a reciprocal relationship. The folk are loyal to the leaders of the community and the leaders are loyal to (and protect) the folk.

• Here’s a bit about how we deal with leadership in our kindred.
• You might care to read about how we connect with other folk in this post about Frith and Grith.
• And this is a post about our interpretation of “gefrain”–good report among the folk and the gods.
• And, um, this one is about how we deal with unthewfulness. Ick.

Dísrtroth is not a recon tradition, so you may ask why the heck all of this matters so much in a religiouscontext. The truth of it is that even though we do not reconstruct the religious aspects of old Northern traditions, in our social dealings we try to reclaim the ethic of a pre-Christian-patriarchal-Romanized order.

One that:

• Maintains thewd based in equity
• Venerates the female in every incarnation[5]
• Values the credibility of the word
• Strives for self-sufficiency
• Insists on personal responsibility[6]

I mention all of this because Nine Worlds American Kindred is planning a folkmoot for The Feast of the Einherjar (held November 9). I, for one, am terrified at the prospect of having things ready in time. We’ve opted to call it a “Witches’ Moot” because it is open to all members of our extended witch, pagan, and heathen community rather than our typical tribe-only event. We are planning games, classes/discussion circles, a mead making workshop, a seidhjallr rite, a sundown drum circle, a warrior commemoration rite (to honor and protect our military), a sumbl, an animal blessing, and potluck feast. Whether or not there will be any lawspeaking remains to be seen.[7] I’ll be posting more information on our website at http://www.disrtroth.org soon; I just have to get past final grades and Midsummer first!

As ever, I’ll keep you posted.

Wæs þu hæl!

~E

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[1] There are hierarchies of things—just like there are local, state, Federal, and Supreme courts in the U.S.

[2] This might seem ironic to those of a “love-and-light” only ideology. But while payback may be a bitch, it keeps the chit-sheets square thereby preventing a “pileup” of malicious return. Tit-for-tat. Gebo. Weregild. It’s not like folks were running around wreaking carnage all over Northern Europe; the Northfolk were very practical and stringent legal foundations kept the culture in line.

[3] Actually, we don’t say, as we have no oearls in our kindred.

[4] Thegndom is not the same as thralldom.

[5] Don’t get me wrong—we aren’t anti-male or the Heathen equivalent to Dianic, not even close

[6] That’s what we call being a “good heathen.” A good heathen knows the law of the land and abides by them. (Even the law allows the demand of a payment for damages.) And once the score is settled, a good heathen lets it go.

A “bad heathen”? A bad heathen ignores the law and manipulates others into unhealthy inter/co/dependence. A bad heathen is someone who wallows in unfairness; imagine the female body and spirit as an object of degradation, shame, or even one to be used to exploit others; fibs outright or otherwise manipulates statements to treachery; bleeds the resources of others and relies on others for sustenance (material and emotional); and blames others for their own bad luck, wyrd, and various negative circumstances.

Thank the gods I don’t associate with any of those.

[7] I mean, I’m happy to provide a space to have any and all quarrels mediated by a disinterested third party–even if I have to hire one, but perhaps that’s best done outside of the celebratory circle and the results of said mediation reinforced at the moot–I mean, we only want the event to last *one* day. HA!

PBP Weeks 18-19: I – Idesa

Gaulish Relief of Triple Goddess

“Idesa” is the Anglo-Saxon term for the Norse dísir, or ancestral/tribal mothers. And the tribe to which I belong hails itself as “Dísrtroth,” faithful to the female ancestors. If you’ve read much of my blog, you know where I stand on issues regarding the divine female and how it’s been hijacked by Abrahamic patristic order and Enlightenment fecktasticness. I have tried to discuss female divinity with a few Pagans (although most “get it”) who just can’t get past the idea that I don’t mean “goddess worship” a la Gardner or even Budapest.

Worship of the idesa is about as “new-age” as wode.

Two things strike me as funny.

1.         As a heathen, we have the term “Forn Siðr”[1]—in Anglo-Saxon Fyrnsidu—which refers to our ways as “the old custom.” However, I find that many (not all) “forn” customs tend to be very masculine-centered customs. All of my studies have shown that true forn siðr were matristic[2] and egalitarian.

2.         I have trouble—real trouble—with the terms “the old ways” and “the old religion” given that folks often use these phrases to refer to imagined reconstructions of pre-Christian religions using post-Christian texts. For this reason, we typically call what we do in our tribe “inn nýi siðr,” the new custom. The real irony is that what I end up calling “nýi” is more forn than what others refer to as “forn.” (Translation: our idea of “new” is the really old version of “old” rather than the new version of “old.”)

Worshiping the idesa was common all the way through to the Roman period. Know how we know? We have evidence that heathen mercenaries built um, Matronae-harrow (altars to Dea Matrona (Celtic and Gaulish “divine mother goddess”)) along Hadrian’s Wall.[3] Must’a been important to them; I can’t imagine that builders would stop construction for that monolith to do something trivial.

There are two celebrations for the idesea. There is Mōdraniht (“Mothers’ Night”) celebrated at Yule-eve, which according Bede’s Historia was a clear celebration of the Matronae (triple goddess), and the dísablót celebration of the female ancestors, which traditionally took place at Winternights (October 31).[4]

Want an inside look at Mother’s Night? Here’s Sarah Lyn’s post from Walking With the Ancestors.

Here at our wēoh (sacred enclosure), we have a special place for the idesa, or dísr. Or, you know, we have one planned. Right now we have an area that we dedicated to the primordial forces, The Rökkr,[5] on Walpurgisnacht. But we hold regular dísablót and we are hosting one at a local festival at the end of the month.

Hey, I’m having a thought.

Given that there will be so many “kinds” of Pagans at this festival, I’m kinda getting the inking that it should be a blót to Dea Matrona, a “Mōdrablót.” You know, that might be more specific than dísr and yet more accessible. A blót to the specific deified being “triple goddess.” That’s a little pan-Pagan friendly at that, i’n’t it? Those who see her as the Fates, the Norns, the Erinnyes, and those who call her Hecate or Mór-ríoghain can all identify with the rite—and yet we don’t lose the substance of the blót by negotiating away any meaning.

Yeah. I think I’m digging it.

As ever, I’ll let you know.

~Ehsha

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[1] I’m not making comment about the Danish Forn Siðr tradition, mind you. Just the term.

[2] Not to be confused with “matriarchal.”

[3] Wanna know more? Go read Winifred Hodge Rose’s “Matrons and Disir: The Heathen Tribal Mothers” (http://www.friggasweb.org/matrons.html).

[4] According to Víga-Glúms Saga; the Heimskringla places it closer to spring.

[5] Don’t get freaked out. The Rökkr are “shadow” deities not Christianized demons—they can be chthonic and tricksters, to be sure, but not “devils.” We don’t really have those.

This post is part of a year-long project, The Pagan Blog Project, “a way to spend a full year dedicating time each week very specifically to studying, reflecting, and sharing your spiritual and magickal path. . . . Each week there is a specific prompt for you to work with in writing your post, a prompt that will focus on a letter of the alphabet . . . .” (http://paganblogproject/)

 

The Helix and the Xiphoid

The xiphoid process is a small bit of cartilage that pokes out the end of your sternum. It gets harder as you get older.

Your sternum—not mine; I do not have one. Nor do two of my three children.

Missing a xiphoid process is a congenital oddity characterized by a visible “dent” in the chest. But it’s perfectly harmless—one will not die if tackled, wrestled, or punched; there is no threat of a death-fall from a low sofa. But it is kinda funny looking.

The word xiphoid means “sword-shaped” and it reminds me of the conversation I had over at The Bad Witch Files concerning the adoration of one’s “phalle.” Just like I have no xiphoid process, I also have no phalle:

One of the problems I have with the language we use to discuss female genitalia is that it truly serves to undermine our power as women and as Witches. . . .

[The female reproductive system] is the Freaudian “unseen.” The Lacanian horrible “lack.” Irigaray gets it (likely because she has one) that the multiplicity of women’s sex organs is confounding to the binary ontology which supports a patriarchal (misogynistic, predominantly) system. (The Sex Which is Not One. Trans. Catherine Porter and Caroline Burke. New York: Cornell University Press, 1985.)

This is the kind of stuff we talk about in gender theory, but it’s not the kind of thing we talk about in Witchcraft. Sure we have all sorts of “Mother Goddess” niceties. But that implies that our *wombs* are the sacred. What of women who choose (or don’t choose) not to reproduce? Do we only worship The Mother? (And perhaps The Maiden because she still has “potential”?) What of The Chrone? Seems she only gets lip-service. [Yes, I meant to say that.]

We have a concept of “reclamation of the female divine”; this is all good. But I don’t feel like it’s enough. I certainly don’t want to go into an enclosure and be separated from men, but there has to be some way to engage in a patriarchal culture and retain a sense of female sexual power without getting into a muddle where female sexual power is just a (false) metaphor for male power.

Think on’t: in practical life (ladies), what do you call your whoo-ha?

Not your womb. That’s where the baby grows.

Not your va-j. That’s where the penis goes (and why it gets top billing).

Not your “Mound of Venus.” That’s not even close.

The whole thing. The whole enchilada.

Clitoris, labia minora, labia majora, and skin (don’t forget; that’s an organ too). Vaginas get all of the attention. And everybody feels so proud when they remember “clitoris.” But [like boy-parts] even the clitoris has a g-zillion parts to it: corpus cavernosum, glans clitoris, clitoral crura, vestibular bulbs. And it’s huge. It’s not this cute little shrunken-penis-button, it’s a complicated structure that is like an iceberg – what you can see is pretty amazing but what you can’t see is where the magic lies.

. . . .

When we perform The Star Ruby, I’m sure [men] have no problem valorizing [their] phalle. But even if I were to exalt my ketis, that’s not exactly right, now is it? . . . I do not want my ketis (limited as that term is) to be a phalle. Never did. Never will.

It’s a false-metaphor. One of those metaphors that serves only to draw a connection between “what is true” and “what I’d like you to believe was true.” Which, in short, makes it a lie. Do we want to keep lying to ourselves?

IMHO, the way we talk about female sexuality in a post Freudian world has leached into our magical lexicon and created a phallogocentric imagining of female anatomy. We see it in medical practice, we see it in psychological studies (the very fact that we do not see “medicine” and “psychology” as one and the same is phallogocentric), we see it in fashion, we see it everywhere. We aren’t surprised by it, we say, “Yup. Damned patriarchy.” But what about our magic? Do we want to see it in our magic? 

I charged my readership to come up with a better word and we all had some funtimes in the comments section for a lil bit. Then I settled on “Vesica.” It implied multiplicity and complexity—but it couldn’t be used as an adjective to counter “phallic.” Vesicaic? Vesical? Vesicaish? Vesicaish-Fish? Oh, gawd.

Then—I donno, a while later, it struck me like a bell.

Helix.

Helixic.

Helical.

Though the OED only says that a helix is, “Anything of a spiral or coiled form. . . [or] the curve formed by a straight line traced on a plane when the plane is wrapped round a cylinder,” I like that the word begins with HEL.

The Online Etymological Dictionary (which admittedly makes leaps from time to time), calls a helix, “a spiral thing. . . related to eilein ‘to turn, twist, roll,’ from PIE . . . *wel– ‘to turn, revolve’ (see vulva).” It also suggest that helix is, “from Gk. Helikon, mountain in Boeotia, sacred to the Muses.” Makes sense when vulva is from volva [the Latin form, not the Norse or Old English form, Völva, which means “staff (or wand)-carrying woman”], “lit. ‘wrapper,’ from volvere ‘to turn, twist, roll, revolve,’ also ‘turn over in the mind,’ from PIE root *wel- ‘to turn, revolve,’ with derivatives referring to curved, enclosing objects” among these being, “eilein ‘to turn, squeeze,’” and, “Goth. walwjan ‘to roll;’. . . [and] O.H.G. walzan ‘to roll, waltz;’ [and] . . .Welsh olwyn ‘wheel.’”

I like the idea of the Muses and of squeezing and of a wheel and of “turning [something] over in the mind.” I really like the double-helix of DNA and all the implications therein. Not so crazy about “wrapper.” Only because the vagina has been seen for too long as “housing” for the penis, as a sheath for the sword—the helix for the xiphoid.

No kidding?

As soon as the much-awaited editions of the book length treatment of this topic come back from the editor, you’ll be the first (or, like, third) to know.[1] Until then, I’ll try to keep from posting too many spoilers.

Wæs þu hæl,

Ehsha

[1] I know it’s the insane publishing season—no pressure; only, I’m excited. It’s my first book about magic and whoo-has.

I was told December—so that means, what? Imbolc?

 

 

 

This post is part of a year-long project. Rowan Pendragon’s The Pagan Blog Project; “a way to spend a full year dedicating time each week very specifically to studying, reflecting, and sharing . . . .    The project consists of a single blog post each week posted on prompt that will focus on a letter of the alphabet” (http://paganblogproject/).