Nimue Brown's Blog, page 62

Rituals

(David)

One of my daily magical rituals is my morning shower. This was the ritual today. Its magical structure changes as required, along with the deities and spirits that I address in it, but like my other daily rituals it always takes place in parallel with its related mundane routine.

“Lord, please protect me from any injuries and every sort of harm as I get into and out of this shower and while I’m in there, in Jesus’s name.”

Step into the shower, taking care to avoid slips and falls even on days when my strength is weak and my balance poor, not relying on spiritual protection alone without doing my conscious part.

“Anthony, please find for me the sea-smoothed pebble I brought home from the beach years ago.” I visualise the lovely flat pebble, which I know is somewhere in this house, hidden from me unintentionally since our bedroom was emptied to be decorated, and which I would very much like to take its place on my sea magic altar.

Step forward under the water. “I am cleansing, physically, mentally, and spiritually.”

Shampoo and condition my hair and beard, then wash my body, a thorough process of routine which has grown in sequences of threes and sevens as I am exploring numerology, everything with magical intent as well as for physical cleanliness.

Step forward to rinse off. “I am losing weight. I am shedding pounds of fat. I am eleven stone and I am healthy, happy, and content in my slim, trim body shape. I am eleven stone and I am happy.”

Finish rinsing off. Stand beneath the jet. “I am cleansed, physically, mentally, and physically.”

Grip my magically charged bracelet. “I am strong. I am protected. I am Lion. I am Wolf.” Breathe the presence of my power animal spirits in me, knowing their strength and protection.

Step out of the shower. “Thank you, Lord.”

Towel off in sequences of threes and sevens. Apply oils and creams with magical intent.

Brush my hair and my oiled beard in sequences of sevens.

These deities and spirits I talk to in my shower ritual may well be the subjects of future entries here. They are inheritances of my childhood, of the Christianity into which I was born. I no longer practice that faith, although its personified deities remain present in my world. I’ve experienced many changes of perception and understanding in my long life, and some particularly significant ones in this regard during this past year. There are instinctual lettings-go underway, which I intend to complete with deeper understanding through historical study and spiritual explorations. This might prove to be my biggest recent shift, and the fact that its clearest manifestation occurs during my daily cleansing is not lost on me.

Do you have any rituals? If so, do they continue without change or are they dynamic events. Do any of your rituals ever prove to be vehicles for change in your life?

Freya – A Pagan Portal

This is an intense and dense book, rich with information. If you are new to the Norse Gods, or new to Freya, this is a really good place to start out. It’s an ideal book for someone at the start of their journey.

Morgan Damiler covers the available historical information about Freya, and the academic thinking that relates to what we know. Alongside this, there is information about contemporary representations and modern practice. It’s always clear what information comes from where so the reader can confidently make their own choices about how to interpret stories or relate to aspects of this Goddess. Where modern content is involved, Morgan expresses something of the diversity of approaches. No one reading this book could come away from it with the mistaken idea that there’s consensus over the right way to do things.

It’s a very readable book – Morgan is able to deal with the more academic side of things in a way that a non-academic reader isn’t going to struggle with.

If you’re already steeped in Norse lore, you might find this interesting for the contemporary practice aspects. I read it as someone who just finds this kind of thing interesting – I don’t practice Heathenry and I’m not considering a relationship with Freya. My primary interest is in the stories. It turns out that I knew all of Freya’s key stories already, which was affirming to learn. Given how random my reading can be, it’s a good experience having a book that consolidates the things I’ve picked up here and there like some sort of wordy crow.

This isn’t Morgan Daimler’s only book on Norse traditions, and there are other Goddess books as well and a set of books exploring Irish fairy traditions.

You can find out more here – https://lairbhan.blogspot.com/

Many of Morgan’s books are available from Moon Books – https://www.johnhuntpublishing.com/cosmicegg-books/authors/morgan-daimler

Creating your own environment

(Nimue)

Back when I was at university, there was still a debate going on about nature versus nurture in terms of who we are and how we develop. Since then the evidence has mounted up that we are profoundly affected by our environments. Our genes can be turned on and off by what we experience. Our physical health, whether we can sleep, our emotional states and how stressed we feel are all impacted by what’s around us day to day. Of course we’re all different and what one person finds exhausting another will find exhilarating.

In recent years I’ve watched with interest the way people are talking a lot more about enrichment for pets. The creatures who live with us all have needs around what will make them happy, and life in a small and empty cage certainly isn’t it. Alongside that of course I see people recognising that those same enrichment issues apply to them, and to the people around them. Rat studies I ran into back in my uni days have long since established that there’s a massive relationship between living in a rich and stimulating environment, and how intelligence develops. It’s only in impoverished environments that inherited intelligence counts for anything much.

It’s worth exploring how your environment impacts on you. What do you need to have around you? What’s the right level of stimulation? Do you need noise or quiet? Do you need colour and plenty to interact with or do you need minimalism? What kind of tactile surfaces suit you best? What do you find stressful, and what do you find relaxing? While quiet and minimal spaces are often framed as being the most soothing – along with the great cry that we should declutter – not everyone thrives in that kind of space. Knowing what you need is really important.

My ideal surroundings include plants, and being able to see trees. I need my background sounds to include bird song, and ideally also running water. Clutter doesn’t affect me, but I need functionality in a space, I need it set up so that I can do things. Ideally I need enough clear floor space to be able to dance. I do better with total darkness at night, but it turns out that if I’m otherwise not stressed I can manage without that.

Often it’s not possible to be totally in control of a space, but it is worth doing whatever you can to create an environment that suits you. What’s around you will impact on your sense of self, and it’s worth investing in a space that allows you to be who you want to be.

The power of playfulness

(Nimue)

It’s well established that play is critically important for how children learn and develop. Play is a key part of how a child learns about the world, explores, interacts, tests out ideas, consolidates learning, and connects socially. However, what we don’t talk about much is the role of play in adult life.

We need fun in our lives. We need laughter and joy, and things that enable us to let off steam and relax. For some reason, adult play tends to rely heavily on sport, alcohol and structured games that you pay to participate in or buy. However, all kinds of play are beneficial to our mental health and we all have things that work for us, and things that don’t. 

Adults also benefit from being able to muck about in a relaxed way, try things, explore, and engage imaginatively with the world. Imaginations are a lot like muscles in that if you don’t use them, they get weak. Imaginations need regular workouts, challenges and opportunities. The person who is in the habit of thinking creatively is well placed to do that under pressure. Problem solving depends on imagination. So does innovation. If we’re going to make deliberate changes in any aspect of our lives then we need to imagine it first. Play has serious consequences in that it benefits our minds and makes us more able to take on challenges.

Fear of messing up and being judged paralyzes a lot of people. When you’re trying to look ‘normal’ and fit in, not draw attention or ridicule, not make a fool of yourself, then life has to be very narrow. Playfulness opens up possibilities. It keeps a person from taking themselves so seriously that they can’t enjoy life. Playfulness enables self-expression and joy in a way that trying not to look foolish never can. It means not having to get drunk before you feel able to get up and dance. Wearing the clothes you want to wear rather than what you think other people will approve of. Living a life that makes you happy rather than existing on other people’s terms.

Work is not the reason for human existence. We aren’t here to make money for other people. We don’t owe anyone solemnity or boredom. For life to be rich and happy, there has to be room for a bit of frivolity and nonsense and things that aren’t all about being productive. Sing loudly, dance with enthusiasm, write whatever entertains you, cook the foods you love, dress for your own pleasure, play games, be silly. Whatever kind of play delights you, make time for it and don’t let anyone shame you into not following your heart.

Throwing away the structures

(Nimue)

I’ve spent most of my adult life as a self-employed person. That calls for discipline and being able to organise your time and shape your own working day. Up until recently I’ve handled that by having a really structured way of doing things. What work I’ve done has varied a lot over the years. Back when I was doing a lot of social media work and Twitter was busy at eight in the morning, it made sense to be up and busy then. Mostly however, my time has been mine to figure out.

The good thing about having a structure is being able to get up and get on with things. Structure means not having to be decisive day to day, and that can be efficient and it can reduce the amount of figuring out required.

The kinds of projects I’m working on at the moment mean that what I need to do varies a lot from week to week. I’m not as well served by trying to have a structured way of responding to this. At the same time, other aspects of my life have changed so that it benefits me to be more flexible. I’m out and about more, there’s more music, more scope for adventures, and more scope for working in unexpected places. Sometimes it makes sense to work at weekends and take time off in the week as I fit my own activities in around what the people closest to me are doing. 

It turns out that I can do perfectly well without much structure, so long as I have a plan. Currently I’m exploring having plans that cover a week or two of projects, from which I can decide how to handle the day to day stuff more flexibly. It’s a looser way of working and at the moment I’m a lot more comfortable with it. Given twenty four hours of warning I can flex in any way I need to, and most days I have a lot of wriggle room. I’m enjoying it. The amount of work I’m able to do has increased, and I think I’m working to a high standard at the moment. I feel that being more flexible is supporting this because it’s helping me not to get bored with the regular stuff and not to feel trapped or overwhelmed in face of larger projects.

For a long time I was obsessed with finding the optimal running order for doing things and the most efficient ways of working. I’ve rejected that idea for now – not least because I’m bored with it. Currently I’m exploring what gives me the best work/life balance, what nourishes me and helps me stay interested in what I’m doing and resourced enough to keep doing it.

Offerings

(David)

This morning, for the first time in weeks, I went outside to visit my back garden rather than just enjoying everything through the study window as I have been doing since the gastro hit me. Only to the ground level, not up the steps to my grove because I’m still physically weak while I recover, but I enjoyed the fresh air and all the flowers raising their heads to the sun.

I took my coffee pot with me and poured the used grounds into the soil below glamorous Gloria the Azalea, as an offering to the spirit of this valley.

This extends my inclusion of coffee in my practice. It’s growing. The daily ritual for protection and happiness that I share with a dear friend as I prepare the makings, then my personal affirmations while I brew it in the silence of each early morning, and sometimes scrying as I inhale its aroma and stare into its darkness before I start drinking. And now giving its nutrients to certain plants and trees in our garden that I have researched to make sure it will be beneficial for them and not harmful. Caring for the plants is part of my half of the relationship with the beings and spirits in this place.

I can’t take any credit for our gardens, in front and to one side of and out behind our house. The steepness of the land itself makes it physically beyond me.

We got hard landscapers in to protect our home from the landslips that used to happen naturally and were exacerbated by the man we bought the property from having dug out a significant chunk of land to extend this house into the hillside. The firm built a strong retaining structure behind the house to stop that happening again, and fronted it with a series of curved walls and flower beds to either side of the big flight of steps that go up to the top level and our little orchard and my grove, more retaining walls and beds down the side, and a terrace out front overlooking the valley.

Once the landscapers were finished, though, the design and planting and maintenance of our gardens was all my wife’s work. What I do is spiritual and fellowship with everyone out there while she takes care of everything practical. It’s a three-way partnership.

Offerings are part of my part in the partnership.

Stories in the landscape

(Nimue)

I live in an area where my family has lived for many generations. Different family lines belong to different parts of Gloucestershire, and some lines go back to Cornwall via Bristol. I have a fairly good sense of how my blood ancestors relate to my landscape, which is something of a blessing. I’m also fortunate in that I have stories about places passed down through my family. Mostly from my maternal grandmother. It gives me a feeling of rootedness.

I did try living somewhere else for a decade, and in that time I struggled with the lack of stories in the landscape. There wasn’t much folklore for the part of the Midlands I ended up in. I learned that story had been an important part of how I related to the landscape. Sometimes what’s important isn’t obvious when you can just take it for granted, and only becomes visible through absence. I took the landscape I grew up in for granted, with its prehistoric sites, family tales, history and folklore. Moving to a new town, (not merely new to me, but fairly newly built) where there were few stories, little history and nothing that related to me was a bit of a system shock.

Storytelling is a wonderful thing to be able to do as part of a walk. When I first came back to Gloucestershire, I spent a lot of time introducing my (then) young child to the landscape and its stories. I saw how those stories helped him orientate in a new place, and I think the connection with family and history was helpful to him as he handled a dramatic upheaval. Walking with him as an adult I note he now has the same urges to tell landscape stories when he has them.

Learning the stories that relate to the land is a good way to connect with what’s around you. There are extra layers of magic and possibility when you start telling those stories to other people. Unstoried landscapes are also fair game for imaginative engagement.

There is a hill, and when my great grandmother was a child, the ruins of the smallpox hospital were still visible. You can see the uneven ground from the last of the walls now, if you know where to look. It’s especially interesting because the hill isn’t so very far from Berkeley, where Jenner discovered vaccines and how to tackle the smallpox disease. Officially the hill is called Downham, but local people used to call it Smallpox Hill. On the side of the hill are two prominent rectangular bumps. Local folklore has it that these are the mass graves from the smallpox hospital. You could get a lot of people in there. However, the more likely explanation is that these are man made rabbit warrens from the days when rabbits were fragile things and had to have homes built for them.

Survivors

The final graphic novel in the Hopeless, Maine series comes out this summer. I’ve blogged about it on the Hopeless blog and I thought it made sense to just reblog that here. If it would be interesting to have me write about the technical side of doing graphic novels then that’s something I could look at for here. Or any other Hopeless related questions anyone has.

The Hopeless Vendetta

Survivors is the final graphic novel in the Hopeless, Maine graphic novel series. These books are a complete story arc. So, if you’re the sort of person who doesn’t like committing to an unfinished series, now is a good time to jump in. Also, I know how you feel, I get very frustrated by things that go on long after they should have stopped, and by things that stop long before they’ve actually finished.

This isn’t the last story about life in Hopeless, Maine. There are other things written and we need to figure out how best to get those out into the world. There will also be a steady supply of community sourced nonsense and whimsy here on the blog for as long as there’s anyone finding it entertaining to do that. Feel free to dive in if you want to be part of it, and if you don’t…

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Understanding and forgiveness

(Nimue)

One of the things I’ve learned is that if I’m going to forgive someone, I need to understand them. Usually people do things for reasons, and what they do makes sense to them. This means that a lot of hurt isn’t caused deliberately and isn’t really about the person it impacts on. A lot of people act from their own trauma, play out their family stories, and are informed by their own wounds, needs and baggage. This informs what any given person thinks is a good idea in the first place. Sometimes the people who do most damage are the ones who are certain they were helping you.

Families are especially prone to passing things down one generation to another. We don’t notice the things we grow up with, they seem normal to us. The lack of compassion in some of our politicians makes a lot more sense when you consider how many of them were shipped off to residential schools and don’t therefore have much experience of a loving and supportive homelife.

It can be quite a process trying to figure out how things make sense from someone else’s perspective. In some cases it’s taken me years of sifting through what information I have to build a story from a different angle. Sometimes the answer is simply that what was important to me did not loom large for the other person. Differences of values and priorities can have a large impact.

One of the difficulties around things that hurt you, is how natural it is to want to centre yourself in that experience. It is necessary to have time and space for your own feelings, but that isn’t always the most helpful way to deal with it. I had a challenging relationship in my youth and it took me years to figure out that the young man was basically re-enacting all the problems he had with his mother. That wasn’t healthy for him at all, but he was playing out his family history and his beliefs about relationships with very little idea of who I am and what was going on for me. I suspect there’s a lot of this sort of thing out there. Recognising that this happened to me but wasn’t about me has helped me move on.

When something dramatic happens in a person’s life it can become the defining story of who they are. All other experiences are coloured by the main story. There was a young man in my teens who had been put into foster care as a very young child, and he couldn’t get past that abandonment story. He’d push away anyone who tried to get close to him, and he’d do that until they gave up and abandoned him too. It was an awful thing, and I held out for years, and I hope things improved for him. 

It’s easier to think about other people’s stories in this way than it is to think about your own. Our own defining narratives can be remarkably hard to spot. We don’t see them as personal foibles or trauma responses, we see them as how the world works. Questioning the basis of your own reality is a pretty terrifying thing to do and a lot of people do better when they have professional support for this. However, thinking about how other people’s experiences shape them can be a good way of opening up space for examining how your own stories inform your perceptions and behaviour. When you know what’s driving you, then you get a lot more options about whether or not to keep going with that. It becomes easier to forgive yourself for bad choices made, and to open up new ways of doing things. It becomes easier to forgive other people as well, recognising their flawed and wounded humanity as part of why they’ve done whatever they’ve done.

A tiny frog blog

(Nimue)

This is the second time I’ve had a close encounter with a lot of tiny frogs. The other occasion was quite some years ago, at about this time of year. It is evidently the season where tadpoles have achieved full frog status here in the UK, but are incredibly small. The frog in this photo was about the size of my fingertip. At this point they seem to get out of the water together and head out into the world. Their major challenge will be avoiding becoming a snack for pretty much anything bigger than they are.

What was especially surprising about these tiny frogs is that we found them in a wood on the side of a hill and I have no idea where the nearest water could have been. They may have come a long way.

James spotted them on the path – he’s very good at this sort of thing. Keith got the photograph. Being tiny and brown on a shady path covered in little stones and last year’s beech leaves meant they had a lot of camouflage… which wasn’t optimal for them with us on the path. We went carefully. Hopefully they did too. 

Sometimes the wonders in life are very small, and take some spotting. This holds up well as a metaphor, alongside being true of recently emerged frogs. The devil might be in the detail, but so are a lot of other things.