Ancestral View?

My daily prayers to Frigg involve mostly kennings. They are less prayers to her, asking her for something, and more meditations focusing on her energies. The ultimate goal, for me, is to be the best mother and wife I can be, and feeling her walking with me on my path of being my best me and honoring the local spirits and my ancestral spirits along the way.

Some of the kennings:

Spinner of the Clouds

Keeper of the Stars

Singer of the Web

Weaver of the Way

Mother of the Light

Bride of the Wind

Keeper of the Keys

Friend of Mothers

Protector of Children

Defender of Families

Lady of the Sun

Friend of Families

Matron of Marriage

Looking at and unpacking each one, starting with the most obvious.

  • Keeper of the Keys

As the Queen of the Aesir, Frigg keeps keys to each of the halls, just as the lady of the house would keep the keys for each of her places. The number of keys were a power and status symbol.

  • Friend of Mothers, Matron of Marriage, Defender of Families

Despite nearly every other goddess having children, Frigg is the only one known for motherhood specifically. Nana has Forsetti, Sif has at least Ullr and Thrud…but none of them are motherhood personified. She is also, despite others being married, the only goddess known for marriage. Others have love, romance, and sex…but Frigg is specifically marriage. By having both in her wheelhouse, she becomes the defender of families.

  • Spinner of the cloud, singer of the web, weaver of the way.

Frigg is most known for spinning, both clouds in the sky, especially the light wispy ones, as well as spinning fates. It is with cruel irony that she knows the fates of all, including her Balder yet remains silent. I often ponder if she knew all of the details…that there was nothing she could actually do to prevent it, but she could also do nothing at all, so she  does what she can, knowing it will be fruitless and remaining silent.

  • Protector of Children

The two above pieces weave together to make Frigg the protector of children. Not only does she walk with mothers, but she watches over children. Her role increases to protector, as one can imagine after going through a traumatic experience, it becomes a person’s beacon. The most vocal proponents for a movement have often gone through it themselves- MADD, Everytown, etc.

  • Lady of the Sun, Mother of the Light, Bride of the Wind, (Keeper of the Stars)

Here is where the ancestors part comes in.

We’re going to go back eons, to the earliest Germanic peoples first putting together language and attempting to make sense of the world around them.

This yellow disc is here. We can see. We have more warmth. The yellow disc is in the sky. Sometimes the yellow disc is surrounded by clouds. Sometimes it is covered with clouds. The yellow disc is there and warm. The yellow disc goes away, and tiny white dots appear. We can’t see. The yellow disc comes back, and we can see again. We can see because of light.

I’ve written before about Frigg being a Sun Goddess. She is the Sun, and she gives birth to the Light. She resides in the Sky, which is one with the Wind. She dictates when then stars may be out, as their keeper.

 

 

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Meditations

I have been feeling as though I have been lost as of late.

This time last year, everything I did in some way incorperated the gods. Almost all of the media I took in, the fictional books I read…

Over the summer, I was feeling a bit burnt out for lack of a better word. Overwhelmed that everything was about them.

And now, the ultimate extremist, as Hubby would remind me, I have swung too far in the other direction and I miss having so much of the gods in my everyday life.

There are books to be borrowed from the library, and there are more digital mediums to be taken in.

Lately, however, I’ve also been as the point where I can only consume so much. I need to start outputting my own. I need to solidify my own head Cannon and that needs to come from within.

Which means I have to actually do something. …another issue my lazy bones has been having as of late. I seem to be running at 100 mph, as it was described by a colleague. I’m up before dawn, working to my fullest my whole time at work (no lunch break blogs as lunch is still crunch time) and then I’m off to get the littles and wear my Mama hat.

They go to bed, and I can be found on a couch, watching the tube.

No creation.

My sacral chakra needs a realignment.

Last night, while putting Witchlette to bed, on a “trip” meditation, I was inspired to bring her to one of her goddesses and she loved it.

This morning while walking the dogs and meditating after, I had a vision of what my most ancient ancestors may have seen when they looked to the sky.

These will hopefully kickstart something in me which will lead to more creation. And less tv watching stagnation.

I’m a mother of both and you’re wrong

This has been showing up on my news feed recently. I saw it and my blood boiled.

I’m gonna call bullshit*t right here.

As a woman, I feared for my own safety walking back to my dorm alone, late, after fencing practice. I was the only dorm resident. I would keep the closest blue light in my sights at all times. I feared walking alone from my car to my dorm after a party. I always kept tabs on my girls at parties and never let anyone pee alone.

As a woman, a male gas station attendant felt it was his right to reach into my car window, which I “foolishly” left open on a hot summers day. He groped me while my tank was filling. I yelled, he seemed spooked. Didn’t my friendly banter and cute top invite him to touch me? From that moment forward, I wouldn’t open the car window more that enough for the credit card to go through. Even on a hot day. I sat in the car sweating because it was safer. Only when I wasn’t alone would I dare open the windows. That trauma has strongly subdued since leaving New Jersey where I was at the will of a station attendant to fill-up my car.

As the mother of a daughter, I fear for what could potentially happen years from now in college. I fear for potential issues in high school as well. As I’m sure my mother feared about me before. I fear that what I went through will happen to her. Or worse.

As the mother of a son, I have no fears that someone will cry rape towards him. Because I’m raising him better than that. I’m raising him to stand up with women, all women, all people, for the betterment of everyone.

As a mother to one of each, I mindfully teach both of my kids consent. I do this with the purpose of Witchlette knowing the power within the word know and her use of it and Witchling to understand when he hears no, he is to back away.

It seems to me the only men to have to fear the “cry” of rape are those who are potential predators. The cat callers. The gropers. The rapists. The only mothers of sons who have to fear their sons reputation are those who allowed their sons to be raised in the patriarchy and follow along with it. Those who allow their sons to see women as a prize, as seen in almost literally every macho action movie.

Then there’s this:

“I draw a line down the middle of a chalkboard, sketching a male symbol on one side and a female symbol on the other.

Then I ask just the men: What steps do you guys take, on a daily basis, to prevent yourselves from being sexually assaulted? At first there is a kind of awkward silence as the men try to figure out if they’ve been asked a trick question. The silence gives way to a smattering of nervous laughter. Occasionally, a young a guy will raise his hand and say, ‘I stay out of prison.’ This is typically followed by another moment of laughter, before someone finally raises his hand and soberly states, ‘Nothing. I don’t think about it.’

Then I ask the women the same question. What steps do you take on a daily basis to prevent yourselves from being sexually assaulted? Women throughout the audience immediately start raising their hands. As the men sit in stunned silence, the women recount safety precautions they take as part of their daily routine.

Hold my keys as a potential weapon. Look in the back seat of the car before getting in. Carry a cell phone. Don’t go jogging at night. Lock all the windows when I sleep, even on hot summer nights. Be careful not to drink too much. Don’t put my drink down and come back to it; make sure I see it being poured. Own a big dog. Carry Mace or pepper spray. Have an unlisted phone number. Have a man’s voice on my answering machine. Park in well-lit areas. Don’t use parking garages. Don’t get on elevators with only one man, or with a group of men. Vary my route home from work. Watch what I wear. Don’t use highway rest areas. Use a home alarm system. Don’t wear headphones when jogging. Avoid forests or wooded areas, even in the daytime. Don’t take a first-floor apartment. Go out in groups. Own a firearm. Meet men on first dates in public places. Make sure to have a car or cab fare. Don’t make eye contact with men on the street. Make assertive eye contact with men on the street.”

Jackson Katz, “The Macho Paradox: Why Some Men Hurt Women and How All Men Can Help”

Isolated and alone

Consistency is the key to life.

No matter how hectic something may be, do it often enough and it becomes routine. Do it dedicatedly enough, and it becomes ritual.

This is how I feel about my early morning dog walk.

Part of me feels sheer insanity. Especially on mornings like the last two.

While I clearly can hear highway traffic on 55 and 64 (which I can only hear at this hour), I am alone. No other houses are awake. No cars are driving past.

Most mornings, there are some early morning warriors we will pass by, almost all of them women who steal away to this one moment. I like to take comfort in their comradery, despite the fact that I don’t know their names.

On mornings like this week, however, there was no one. It was too wet, too soggy. It wasn’t currently raining, but it was damp enough to be a deterrent.

Some dry mornings, I don’t see another early morning warrior either, but I don’t feel as alone as I did this week.

No stars are visible, so I am unable to see and connect with Orion, with whom I converse every morning. No planets are visible. The Moon, sometimes cloaked, but often obscured.

My first Frigg-specific morning prayer, after Brunhilde’s prayer, begins, “Weaver of the clouds, Keeper of the stars…”

It’s amazing what cloud cover over the early morning sky will do.

It’s not feeling like Mabon

When I first started my Path, I was completely confused about why in the world the first day of summer would be called Midsummer. It was the beginning of summer. Don’t try to rush my summer away!

Then I started to dig deeper and I learned about my ancestors’ solar calendar and that Midsummer is halfway through on of their two seasons: summer and winter.

Ostara is the first day of Summer.

Mabon is the first day of Winter.

Solarly, that is.

It’s still in the 80s here in Raleigh and while the leaves have begun to change, I’m not in the spirit of Mabon.

I’m not yet wearing sweaters and boots. I’m not yet in jeans and sweater leggings.

I’m still in tank tops and shorts. I’m still going strong with sundresses.

But as I learned over the summer, you don’t do offers and libations when you feel close to the Gods. You do offers and libations to connect with the Gods. The offers and libations come first.

So, I put out the general fall decor today. Hung my leaf and acorn garland. The Raven candle holder is on the dining room table.

Even though the leaves are just starting change, it’s beginning to feel a lot like fall at home.

A whirlwind

I’m still here. Holding down the homestead and going strong.

Kindergarten has started for Witchlette.

Preschool has started for Witchling.

I’ve just concluded my fourth week of the school year and even though I feel as though I haven’t had a full week of instruction yet, and I feel utterly exhausted.

I’m took the day off to celebrate Witchling’s birthday. Witchlette’s birthday will always be a day off for us for her whole childhood. It won’t be that way for Witchling, so I am soaking it all in while I can.

It was very stressful in the beginning. Getting Witchlette to school while also getting to work and having time to get everything done. Then leaving work on time to get Witchlette from school and often leaving with a pile of stuff undone. Stuff that could wait until the next day, knowing that more would come by the morning and having the pike just grown.

One evening while walking the dogs, I calculated it. I am missing an hour of productivity time with carpool time. That’s it. Not a massive amount of hours. One.

So a few days a week, I have been bringing my computer home and doing work while the kids have their evening tv time. They’re unwinding with screen time and it’s not like I’m missing engaging moments. Then I still get hobby time after they go to bed. And I’m not sacrificing anything.

530 wake ups have consistently happened, excpet for Florence mornings because nope nope nope. 530 I walk the dogs and have my quiet meditation time before Hubby’s alarm goes off. I get in a quick yoga-based stretch while he brushes his teeth and then Witchlette’s alarm goes off and the day really begins.

Unbalanced balance is where I take up residence now and I’m not just treading through the chaos, I’m doing water ballet.

A card reading from Sh over the summer revealed that the transition would come to stride and it would just be a transition. I’m glad to have found that place before September even ended.

First time in a long time…

The lure of stay at home mom has always been strong for me. After all, it’s how I was raised.

In the back of my mind, it was always something that I wanted.

Going back to work after Witchlette was born wasn’t by any means easy, but it wasn’t overly difficult either. It just was. I transitioned back to work and life continued. We had bills to pay and, if nothing else, couldn’t afford health insurance without the benefits from my job even if my take home pay was significantly decreased with the cost of childcare.

The first summer of stay at home mommy time with Witchlette was magical. It was glorious. It also included a two to three hour nap period where I got to just binge on my own shows and take my own naps. The second summer with just Witchlette was much more tiring, mostly because I also was carrying Witchling. Nap time as we knew it was gone at home, though she did still occasionally fall asleep on the couch. As did I. Both summers ended and both transitioned into new school years with a return to work.

The lure of stay at home mom was always there, but it was just an illusion.

My maternity leave with Witchling started just a few weeks later. The lure ended and the drive and desire was strong. The postpartum issues were strong. Returning to work just 12 weeks later was heartbreaking. It wasn’t returning to my normal routine, it was the death of a dream.

The next summers, leading up to Witchling’s first and second birthdays, still held the pull of throwing my hands in the air and walking away from it all. Spending all of my time with my kids and just being a full-time parent. I’m an amazing mom.

But I’ve watched other friends who are full time moms, or who were full time moms and walked away from it. They were good mom’s, but they lost a balance to themselves.

Perhaps I am an amazing mom because I’m a mom that works. Perhaps because I prioritize my time with the littles, I am better.

This summer was the first time that the pull wasn’t there in three years. This summer was the first time since Witchling’s been born that I haven’t felt the need to throw my hands up at work and walk away.

My summers are sacred and I am going to extreme measures to keep them with both kids (hello charter school!). I will always revel in my full time momhood. And keeping them to the fullest. But I am back to seeing thaty time for what it is: a vacation.