A Timely Excursion Into Space
I know you wonder what we’re up to over at Patreon. Well, here’s a teaser… Each Monday, Vanessa and I write about our magical experiences in order to inspire our patrons. This following text was posted today, for instance, for the $23 and up patrons. And there’s a whole lot more, too. Check it out at:
Magic Monday – A Timely Excursion Into Space
After several months of minimal contact with the outside world, we decided that it could be nice to go on a little outing. Summertime in Stockholm! And it’s Vanessa’s first real full summer in Sweden, too!
Not feeling completely ready to immerse ourselves in the respiratory vortices of all those “other,” strange, breathing people, we decided on a boat cruise in the Lake Mälaren inner archipelago, destination Birka. As you surely know, Birka was Sweden’s first real capital during the Vendel era (approx 500-750 AD, pre-Viking age), and it’s a real beauty. Not very big, but perfectly situated for sea commerce, trade, and… tourism.
Was there a mission? Yes. We brought our respective rune pouches on the trip, to have all of the runes blessed by the land at this historically significant place. (This, I think, will be the subject of another Magic Monday piece, as the experience brought many valuable insights…)
The boat ride takes about two hours, and while travelling we sat on deck in the sunshine, enjoying the sights and the fresh air. It wasn’t a jam packed cruise but there were just enough people for us to retract a little bit into our own corner of imagined safety.
Occasionally a loudspeaker on deck blurted out our guide’s messages about noteworthy sights along the coast, and one message startled me in my pleasant snooze. We were passing “Kungshatt” (“The King’s Hat”), an island with a big cliffside. On top of the cliff is a strange contraption: a tall stick or an antenna, with a big hat of sorts on top. It’s common that sailors salute the hat on the cliff when they pass it, for luck and good winds.
The guide enthusiastically told the story over the distorted speakers; it was impossible not to hear it. This was the place where the Swedish king Erik Wäderhatt had jumped off into the water after having been pursued by men sent by the Norwegian king Harald Hårfager (Harald the “fair-haired”). If Erik hadn’t jumped at that moment, he would surely have been killed. Although he lost his hat in the jump – his signature “weather hat” – he managed to swim away, survive and later on fight back. The Norwegians were eventually driven away.
A couple of years ago, Vanessa and I had passed the same point on another trip in the same direction, but the present one suddenly brought things to life. Literally. Because now I remembered that Erik Edmundson “Wäderhatt” was actually a relative of mine. Meaning then, that if he hadn’t jumped off the cliff at that moment, I would have been… Yes, what exactly? Not at all? Same, but different? Or inside Erik’s mind, jumping off, thinking of a later me looking up at the cliff and reminiscing about a past that had yet to come but perhaps, perhaps never would happen simply because I just jumped?
The beautiful thing about Erik Wäderhatt is that he was mostly known for his magical abilities. Via his hat, he was able to foretell the weather, and also control the direction of the wind by turning it on his head. I’m sure he had many other tricks up his sleeve – like surviving Norwegian attacks. His magic, whatever it consisted of, makes me genuinely proud to be an ascendant descendant of his.
But then it dawned on me as we passed the point and left that cliff behind us… Wasn’t I actually also related to the Norwegian king that had ordered Erik’s violent demise?
When we eventually got home again, I had to check. Lo and behold, a trans-generational, cosmic revelation: I’m 37 generations away from Erik Edmundson, and 37 generations away from Harald Hårfager. What to make of this? And what to make of that particular moment?
That these kings were battling it out is no surprise. That was the name of the game for hundreds of years; thousands, even. And even until recently: Sweden lost Finland in 1809, and let Norway go in 1905, so that they could somehow become countries of their own, and that was hopefully the last of that. “Geopolitics is so last season, darling.”
History is of course full of moments like this: mind boggling intersections of “What ifs” and “What if nots.” But this one really tilted me during that beautiful day at Birka – where I’m pretty sure other relatives of mine lived it up, too. If Erik Wäderhatt hadn’t jumped at that moment, things definitely wouldn’t have been the same for me.
Remember my text from June 15th about dear old Charlemagne, and the various kinds of memory – DNA being perhaps the most important one? It is just one tiny, tiny moment in space and time that decides where we go – and certainly where we come from. Erik made the decision to jump, and survived. And Harald was certainly doing fine, too, until he wasn’t. The DNA was pushed onwards in peace as well as in war.
Much, much later, in 1486, the Swedish Knight and Nobleman Sigge Larsson Sparre had sex with his young wife Kerstin Månsdotter Natt och Dag; thereby celebrating, and also, more importantly, consolidating these two lineages that can be traced back to good old Harald and Erik. I am so happy that they did, and almost daily feel indebted to Sigge’s auspicious ejaculation, as well as to Kerstin’s loving embrace.
Now you may ask: what is the wisdom of this Magic Monday piece? Numero uno: going to historically significant places and spaces is to an equal degree time travel. Secundo: while at it, always celebrate and honour the ancestors. But it’s also to be continually aware of the absolute malleability of the fabric of life, and to always allow yourself to venture out so that you can be reminded of this. Movement in body and mind is “key.” There are no substantial surprises coming out of the armchair – except for, perhaps, a surprising increase of dust in the corners.
As I write this I’m not only happy that Erik jumped, and thereby (in)directly facilitated for me to become exactly the me I really love to be. I also remember one of Genesis P-Orridge’s favourite descriptions of his beloved wife Lady Jaye, and her general attitude and audacity in life: “See a cliff, jump off!”
(Photo by Vanessa. The effigy hat is visible under the brim of my hat, on the left side.)
