Huginn | 2.1 | Yule 2011 | Mysticism by Talas Pái

ISSN 2009-4035

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HUGINN IS A BIANNUAL ONLINE MAGAZINE CREATED, EDITED AND PUBLISHED AT YULE AND MIDSUMMER BY TALAS AND MARIS Pﾃ！, OUT OF COUNTY ROSCOMMON, IRELAND. HUGINN IS AVAILABLE IN INDIVIDUAL ISSUES AS A .PDF AT HUGINNJOURNAL.COM OR IN PRINT BY ISSUE AT HUGINNJOURNAL.COM/LULU. COVER COLLAGE ﾂｩ 2011 TALAS Pﾃ！. ALL CONTRIBUTIONS ARE COPYRIGHT THEIR INDIVIDUAL AUTHORS 2011. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED. WWW.HUGINNJOURNAL.COM

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mysticism cannot be separated from the true practice of any religion.

Without the dreams of mysticism, religion is only a set of rules and a collection of stories. (Silence Maestas, Walking the Heartroad)

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Editorial: the Mystic's Dream This issue marks the first anniversary of Huginn's publication, an achievement which would have been impossible without the contributions of every writer, artist and reader for the past year. Huginn's tackled big, controversial topics and I'm awed by the talent of everyone who's devoted their time and effort to the discussion. The feedback I've received has been overwhelmingly positive, and the way Huginn's taken on a life of its own makes me think of the old saying -- mighty oaks from little acorns grow. I've been wanting to put out this issue for a long time. Back when I originally conceived of putting together a journal to address the alternative viewpoints and underpublicized work in heathenry, this is what I wanted: an opportunity to dig deep into the vivid, experiential side of the Northern Tradition. In this issue, we're taking on mysticism with a variety of fascinating, inspiring and heartfelt pieces, with takes on the topic that range from the sensitive and quietly beautiful to the terrifying, chthonic and hair-raising. This issue makes it clear that the world is a lot bigger and weirder and more wonderful than most of us even realized. Working on Huginn for the last year has been amazing; I can't wait to see what 2012 is going to bring. Hail to the gods! Hail to the wights! Hail to the ancestors! Here's to 2012! â&#x20AC;&#x201C;

Talas PĂĄi Editor editor@huginnjournal.com

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What is mysticism? BY TALAS PÁI

In response to the call for submissions for this issue, I received some very thoughtful questions from Valiel: aren't the previous issues of Huginn already filled with mysticism? Isn't every article and testimony ultimately about mysticism? How can we begin to define mysticism? In brief, yes: Huginn is devoted to a mystic approach to the Northern Tradition, and yes, most of Huginn's past issues have been filled with experiences of mysticism. I hesitate to say that every article has been mystic, if only because Huginn also embraces scholarship and the very nature of mysticism is that it can defy logic, be both true and false simultaneously1, and not just subvert but utterly circumvent conventional dogma. Mysticism has been a contentious topic in modern Heathenry, as it has been within other religions throughout history. Long before Heathens began bickering over whether recent personal gnosis is as valid as medieval-era lore, religious communities have been struggling and blossoming with the foundation-shaking force of mysticism. The writings of Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Balkhī, better known as the 13th-century Muslim poet and Sufi mystic Rumi, have been wildly popular since their composition -- the lyricism and universal themes of Rumi's poetry have made his work popular, even amongst those critical of Islam. His ecstatic explorations of God form a vivid counterpoint to the popular Western vision of a severe, ascetic Islam. Hildegard von Bingen, a 12th-century German Benedictine nun, long under-appreciated by the Catholic Church, has been both praised for the visionary quality of her work as a composer and philosopher and criticized for her views on chastity and the roles of women; however, her music remains astonishingly beautiful eight centuries after her death and her understanding of the Virgin Mary and a life-suffusing 'greenness' are relevant to even a pagan theology. It was (soon-to-be Saint) Hildegard who wrote "I, the fiery life of divine wisdom, I ignite the beauty of the plains, I sparkle the waters, I burn in the sun, and the moon, and the stars," and "The earth which sustains humanity must not be injured, it must not be destroyed." The root of mysticism is connection, and I think the hunger for connection that every mystic feels is based in love -- love for the world, love for the gods, love for life. Love is the motivating force that drives mystical connection; otherwise, the intimate connection with the gods and with the cosmos that mystics seek (and achieve) is fruitless and empty. Love is the law, love under will.2 Not all mystics are iconoclasts, but nearly all of them are or were controversial. While Rumi may fail to irritate anyone on the basis of his faith, Aleister Crowley cut a swathe through the turn-of-the-century world and remade Western occultism in his image. Joseph Smith, Jr. founded a modern sect rooted in mysticism, divine revelation, scrying, polygamy and Zionism, helped shape the American West and alienated most other Christians in the process. Dr. John Dee sought understanding through both science and magic; he received the Enochian language and wrote on Euclid, but was also arrested and accused of treason partly for having cast horoscopes for Queen Elizabeth I. 1

I don't know man, I didn't do it.

Aleister Crowley, Liber AL vel Legis, 1:57.

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The problem is that mystics are necessarily the exception, not the rule, for every religion in existence. The individual experience of mysticism is inherently opposed to the bureaucratic structure of organized religion, whether that religion is Christianity, Islam, Heathenry or other Neopaganisms. It can be argued that organized religion exists to control the spiritual experiences of adherents, both in a positive and a negative sense: positively, it provides a coherent worldview from which to interpret spiritual experiences; negatively, it attempts to suppress authentic experiences which do not accord with its dominant narrative. Since the mystic experience is that of intense, intimate, personal connection directly between a human and Deity, mysticism naturally subverts the authority of a priest class or holy text within the religion -- if a Catholic can have a mystic experience of Godhead, then a priest to interpret God's message is superfluous. Similarly, if a Heathen can have a personal experience of or direct message from Loki (or Odin, or Freya, or...), then the importance of lore is inevitably compromised. (There are already flaws in treating the lore as the supreme arbiter of Heathen theology -not the least of which is that it was recorded after the Conversion by Christians -- but the question of how to treat mystic experiences that conflict with primary texts has not been resolved.) All Neopaganisms, especially Reconstructionist sects, are in an uneasy alliance with mysticism. Reconstructionists strive for pure, historical accuracy and an authentic revival of Paleopagan practice, but have to cope with gaping holes in primary texts and the loss of a complete, living worldview and religious structure. This leaves an inevitable choice between embracing new mysticism to fill in the gaps or practicing an incomplete relic which is a pale shadow of the vibrant religion it historically was. Valiel asked if we should understand modern priestesses and priests as mystics -the answer is yes, ideally, with a caveat. There is an essential division between 'priest/ess' and 'mystic'. Every priest should ideally have a mystic inner life, that driving love and connection with Deity which motivates them and inspires their vocation, but not every mystic has the vocation of a priest. Priesthood is about service -- service to the gods, but even more importantly, service to community. Mystics can be hermits (or cloistered monastics), priests cannot; and the average congregant is neither a priest nor a mystic. This essential three-part division within organized religion -- between a priesthood devoted to maintaining the structure of the religion, the mystics who often challenge that authority and structure, and the laity who form the majority and who rely upon the priesthood for guidance and the mystics for inspiration -- can be the cause of a great deal of tension. The often iconoclastic nature of mystic experience can cause mystics to conflict with the priesthood. It is the nature and partial purpose of the priesthood to preserve order and tradition within a denomination or sect; in this way, priests foster community, identity, and function as a microcosm of the apparent order of the cosmos. But orderly as the universe may appear, there is still chaos, surprises and inexplicable occurrences which remind us that we live in an organic, shifting universe instead of an elaborate clockwork orrery; mystics are the reflection of that within a religious context. The function of the priesthood is easier for the layperson to understand and their work more obvious and generally valued, whereas the unpredictability of mysticism and the eccentricity it provokes within mystics is harder for the laity to respect and value. Ironically, the modern Neopaganism movement started as a collection of mystics without public priests. Wicca, for example, was envisioned as a revival of the mystery cults, to be practiced by small groups made up solely of clergy and without a non-initiated 5

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congregation or 'outer circle'. And while some Neopagan sects have remained there (and grown much more slowly), most of them are growing rapidly and moving towards a clearer divide between priests, mystics and laity. The nominal Neopagan ideal is for everyone to be a mystic and to develop a personal, revelatory relationship with Deity. (This suggestion that authentic Neopaganism is the result of personal, mystical revelation goes hand-in-hand with the Protestant-influenced emphasis on orthodoxy of modern Neopaganism, instead of the emphasis on orthopraxy in Paleopaganism.) Part of the formless, 'herding cats' aspect that has developed within Neopaganism is due to the fact that the movement was formed partially as living criticism for dissatisfied converts from Christianity, who started by rejecting the formal organization of churches, who increasingly value and expect mysticism and reject 'being told what to think'. Most Neopaganisms' lack of central authority or unifying creed is both a strength and a weakness from this perspective. Given that Neopaganism's -- as an umbrella group -- sole condition for membership is personally identifying as one, it necessarily embraces a variety of people, to the point that virtually no one would agree on a single unifying point, sometimes within even a single group. Heathenry/Northern Tradition Neopaganism alone encompasses orthopraxic atheists, Romantic agnostics, hard and soft polytheists, dualists, pantheists, pragmatists, syncretists, theological racists, Norse Wiccans, academics, godspouses, Forn Sed, Theodism, New Agers, medieval reenactors, traditional-style shamans and core shamanism practitioners, orthodoxic speculators, hard Reconstructionists and and no doubt even a few lost Christians who identify with shades of Jesus in Baldr and Odin. To the point that Neopaganism as a movement is more inclusive than almost any other religious movement on the planet, it thrives; but to the point that no one can agree on a single point of theology even within a single 'denomination', it suffers. The truism holds: not everyone is a mystic, not everyone drawn to Neopaganism is drawn on the basis of intense personal experience, not everyone wants to build their own personal religion. Emphasizing 'universal mysticism' conflicts with the goal that many Neopagans share, of building (or rebuilding) large-scale temples or organizations. As Neopaganisms gain in numbers, including 'native-born' practitioners, they incorporate both mystics and people who want to be involved in Neopaganism without having mystic experiences. Therefore there is and will be conflict between those who have a vested authority in the structures of Neopaganism, its churches, hofs, temples, kindreds, congregations and covens, and the mystics who challenge its tenets and practices, its traditions and visions of Deity -- and the laity who simply want to celebrate rites of passage and holidays with a community, who have less interest in the minutiae of theology and can't personally understand mystical revelation. Neopaganism has a responsibility to embrace all three groups, because ultimately they serve each other. Mysticism imbues religion with vitality -- as Silence Maestas observed, "without the dreams of mysticism, religion is only a set of rules and a collection of stories"3 -- and religion provides mysticism with context. Theology is intellectual, mysticism is emotional. The mind and heart have to work together to build a thriving, spiritually-satisfying religious framework. While mysticism is formed by visionary experience and hints at the great truths and deep magic of experience, the essence of mysticism is connection coupled with love. Maestas, Silence. Walking the Heartroad: the devotional path for spirit workers. 1st ed. Hubbardston, MA: Asphodel Press, 2008. iv. Print. 3

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â&#x20AC;&#x153;Odhinnâ&#x20AC;? by Saga Odinsong Saga is a lifelong artist whose illustrations are her way of keeping the folklore alive. She lives in far Northern Wisconsin and works our of her studio Stark Raven Studios with her artist Blacksmith Husband, Dan Roesinger. Prints are available at http://www.etsy.com/shop/starkravenstudios13 7

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Creation at Breiðablik Temple BY JALKR

Breiðablik Temple, in western New England, is a privately owned, publicly accessible sacred space. Being its keeper is my full-time, unpaid occupation. It might seem that physical toil, especially that of tending the resident god-dedicated horses and swine, is the key component of maintaining this space. In actuality, intimacy with the divine is the foundation impelling me to strive as deeply as possible. Yet I’ve written little about the relationships I have with Odin and other wights because immanence by definition is meant to be experienced first-hand and it felt rude on some level to parse holiness. Odin wishes me to share so others will know the Temple exists; I carry out His desire and pray these pallid words will suffice. Breiðablik is a place for the gods and their people, as were the temples of antiquity. Odin is immensely complicated. He and I fit together in an equally involved (and frankly sometimes fraught) manner. The nuances of our union have been largely hidden, to this point. Discretion was appropriate while the Temple was new and the relationship in its formative stages. This is my first foray into publication, tapping heavily into vignettes drawn from years of journal-writing. Think of the pieces as mosaic tiles: each a tiny fragment of a much grander design. The significance of the interludes frequently become apparent only with time and perspective. Odin is the artist and I the medium by which He creates. This is entirely 'unverified personal gnosis' or UPG, as any direct contact with a deity must be, but that is the nature of mysticism. As I stated on the Temple web site, “The gods are living beings, endowed with will and presence.” 8 Nov. 2008 -- The Value of Silence As a rule, horses are quiet beings. They use body language to convey their feelings and needs. The merit of silence is not lost on me. Since childhood, I have known that stilling the tongue leads to a greater sense of reflection in all respects and now the horses are mentoring me anew in the art. When out before dawn today (relocating a little salamander which had been stranded in the basement) I paused for a very long time to listen. There was a smattering of rain and a small breeze. The fallen leaves permeated the air with their wonderful scent. I breathed in, feeling energy rise from my feet on the ground all the way up to my head and chest. All my nerves were alight with joy. I knew the landvættir were with me, seeing what I did, telegraphing their approval. They revel in silence. Words are alien to them and they don't care for human speech even if it is welcoming or inviting them. They prefer us mute so we can listen. We bided together in a window of bliss, a shining moment nestled like a jewel in the remainder of a conventional day. I am becoming more adept at switching from the social world of humans, where silence is often perceived as indicative of a problem or avoidance; to the world beyond, where silence is receptive, respectful, alert, and open. I feel a profound sense of thankfulness to the holy horses, who teach the nuances of being fully present and centered. In silence we come awake. 8

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14 Nov. 2008 -- Biding Outdoors I never see the vættir, only feel them. I can't describe it other than to say, someone or someones are with me. One could easily dismiss this as delusions I suppose. There’s a tendency to do that in this modern, skeptical world and I often struggle to find context for moments without reference to guide me. Last night I had a new thing occur. I was standing at the doorway to a horse shelter, waiting patiently for one old horse to finish dining. Eyes closed, feeling quite weary -when I began to feel air move all around my face in miniscule puffs. Ever had someone give you a "butterfly kiss" with their eyelashes? Nothing was actually touching me and yet, my skin felt like it was getting a multitude of tiny tiny pats, caresses, maybe even kisses, on my cheeks and forehead. It felt so damned good I wept. I know that was the vættir. Wherever I have gone, they have welcomed me. Alaska, Monterey, Arizona, Cape Cod. Their ways are not human, and probably human emotions are so much garble to them, but however it transpired the wondrous little zephyrs playing about gave a tremendous and tender gift. 23 Nov. 2008 -- A Prayer May I have the fortitude to experience the lessons given, however arduous. May I always see the beauty of this land, in all seasons and in all weather. May I use all my senses to know the gift of being alive, even when it hurts. May I perform the Work in an exemplary fashion, never faltering, always ready. May I still myself, and hear the divine. 11 Jan. 2009 -- Mani I stood out in the midst of a snowfall, with the full moon’s light streaming, and felt deeply tranquil. Mani’s energy scintillated and settled in my core, gentle and loving as always. Mani had consented to aid me in offering succor to far-off needful friends. I don't talk about my energetic experiences often, but they are always ecstatic. My young human helper was silently watching me. I could feel his wondering gaze so I opened my eyes, told him to take off his mittens, and we joined hands. After a little time drawing in Mani’s glory I sent the energy through my palms to his. I asked him what he felt. “It feels like bubbles tingling all over!” was the answer. I grinned and said, "Now you know what I'm doing. Mani and I are sending that to friends who need it." And he went back to silently observing with a smile of wonderment. I think last night must have accomplished good works. It has a bountiful feel and the recipients said the Sending was intense and uplifting. Although my helper and I were dressed for severe cold and snow, he got chilled while I felt as cosy as if I was turned into a furnace. Not a particle of discomfort, just afterglow. 16 Jan. 2009 -- Önd, Lessons and Laughter I have avoided using the term 'fulltrui' towards Odin very deliberately to this point, even though we've re-entered the groove we used to work together before I had my

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headstrong disavowing phase of more than a year's duration (a story for another time). Fully trusting is of paramount importance in the way He would have me merge with Him. When my spouse got up for work around two in the morning, I went to see the horses and give them their night-time feed so they have good warming calories to see them through the coldest hours of the night. While there, I mused about doing some energetic lessons with önd, holy breath, if Odin would consent to help and guide. I wanted to give Him more of the brand of energy I seems to be getting better at generating. I wanted Him to feel free to have me if He wanted, and He very much did. I have no idea how long I stood in the crackling cold. With the backdrop of supping horses, I breathed His holy breath in, around and through my body. It went everywhere but especially to eyes as tears and pelvis as deeply erotic arousal. Tears welled up and dropped onto my cheeks. They froze there after a while, which was amazing. Tears of total euphoria. I stood in the dark and cold and was filled with ecstasy. I looked up at the immense span of night sky, and at the moon, and felt önd crest through me even more intensely. Odin was with me, leading in our beautiful energetic dance. I couldn't help myself: I started to laugh, and laugh, and laugh; huge lusty laughs that went rolling out into the dark. I’m sure I looked and sounded like a madman but I didn’t care. He was with me. My head and my heart were full to brimming. Thank you, cherished Fulltrui. Free Will I stall leaving the comfortable, familiar confines of the house each night to venture into the dark and cold. But staying outside every night is a commitment I must keep, for many reasons. At least part of the reluctance is having everything pared away until I am alone with Odin. In the advancing winter, there are not many sounds of nature any more, except for the wind, an occasional owl, and even more occasional coyotes. The wind always brings Odin, when I focus on it. There's no mistaking the texture of His presence. I couldn't conjure such a sensation no matter how long or hard I tried. English does not contain a word which captures this paradox of terrible transcendence so I’ve adopted the German word Unruhe, anxiety or agitation. When He is heavily present the very air feels oppressive, as if a living thundercloud has descended and is right on you. Biding with Odin always feels this way. Euphoria rises on my focused inward breath. The outward breath brings it to a crescendo along with keen prickling of tears, gathering and seeking egress. If I persist, they pool behind closed lids and eventually run down my face. It’s hard labeling the accompanying emotions. Submission, euphoria, surrender, desire, poignance. Fundamental overload. Every time I experience this I feel very humbled and vulnerable: ergi. You would think I'd seize the opportunity to immerse myself in such liminality because I strongly believe the edge of existence is the ‘happening place’ but the truth is, I hedge. Consenting to be rolled by it is always hard, but cannot happen otherwise. It is active submission. In lore it is associated with unmanliness and cowardice but in my experience it draws on all the courage one possesses to join with a god, be vulnerable to Him. 10

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Jalkr's bl贸t to Odin on a yew tree. Photo: Jalkr

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16 July 2010 -- He Wanted, So I Said Yes Around noontime I felt compelled to sit by myself in the downstairs bedroom and mull further over an impending personal ritual. It felt like there was more internal processing that had to happen, so I took out the rune set and posed questions. Yes, Odin wanted more. Access to all my heart, to do with as He would. No withholding, hesitations or disengagement on my part whatsoever. A tall order. More usually there's a strong erotic element drawing me in, but this time, no. I laid on the bed and invited Odin within my soul. I wish I had words to convey the absolute tumult of sensations and responses that coursed through me. I could feel an urge to disengage when it became intense, and in that was the challenge. He was pleased when I stayed willing -- the essence of Ehwaz, the horse rune. Cooperation for a greater purpose, surrender of the will. I drew other runes at intervals and each had an effect on me, as has happened before in other sessions. It was a test, to see if I would resort to old habits and responses of keeping some part of myself in reserve, or go further and deeper even when it became challenging. I did as He asked, all that He asked. When we were done and I was able to return to myself, I had to exit the room promptly. My family was in the living room. They latched onto me and plonked me into a chair. One put a fan on and another got me a popcicle without being asked. I was so undone I was close to vomiting. That popcicle brought me back to the here and now, maybe through its coldness, maybe through the sweetness. I do not know which and it doesn’t matter, really. The awful, exhilarating, intimate, difficult, tearful and euphoric interlude with my beloved Odin had ended. This is what He was waiting to see if I would do for Him. We've had many encounters before, but none so devastating. None where I had the repeated option of disengagement, and turned it down. I want to give Him all I can, whatever He asks, as far as it takes me into oblivion. He is Uðr, Beloved, and I can do no less. Jalkr serves Odin and works hard to create and maintain Breiðablik Temple, a 68 acre sacred space [http://breidabliktemple.weebly.com/]. He relishes the challenges, joys and frustrations of this work immensely. (Editor's note: You can find more information on contributing to the upkeep of Breiðablik Temple at http://breidabliktemple.weebly.com/how-you-can-help.html)

Stock credit: cobweb-stock.deviantart.com, mjranum.deviantart.com and princess-of-shadows.deviantart.com 13

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A Day's Journey Into Night BY MARIS Pﾃ！

The dull grey of first light shows the path that you have placed me on, my Lady, forks up hill and away from the shadows that the fragile, unworthy part of myself would rather skulk in: another gauntlet at my feet, another loving dare to choose the merciless light that nourishes and exposes me, to myself and to others. I cannot turn away -- you forbid my cowardice. Dawn breaks, stretching amber and scarlet across the immense sky, and far above my head, a falcon soars among the few littering clouds. And I smile as I put one foot in front of the other, and again, and again. The yawning expanse of light slowly reveals the thorns that will cut me to ribbons if I veer too far off my path, and the rocks that may yet cut into my feet if I proceed. I cannot avoid the pain -- you would not coddle me. Daylight and a sky the blue of Frigga's cloak seems to reach down to kiss the ground I'm walking on. It's a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky and I'm afraid. Crawling about in the darkness was not my path, but it was, at least, familiar. I fear this exposure, this clarity, and I cannot help but second-guess myself. That, of course, is when I stumble, scraping my hands and knees on my own ingratitude and self-loathing. I cannot miss the irony -- you smile knowingly.

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High above, the midday sun is hot and bright and I can feel its warmth seeping into my bones, chasing away the cold of neglect and self-sabotage. Like a flower, I arch towards the dazzling brightness. Even behind my eyelids, I can see Your radiance, Lady, and the glory of this new day. This is what I must cling to in my worst moments of doubts and despair. I cannot express my gratitude -- you seem to understand. Sunna dips lower in the sky and still I walk the path you've chosen, my journey into the evening taking a more pensive tone. I've come so far that there are twists and turns here not unfamiliar to my feet old lessons with new hats, bridges that I've built with the sweat of my brow to avoid fording through the raging rivers that have all but drowned me many times. I cannot indulge in such self-flagellation -- you tell me I'm learning. At the dimming of the light, I become aware of my companions on this journey. Beloved faces of those gone before, smiling and offering a helping hand or a leg up when I stumble. A warmth that has nothing to do with sunlight settles over me and I take each new step on faith. This is not my darkness; it is yours, Lady. It has always been yours and that is the lesson that I have never understood until now. I cannot miss it -- and you offer your hands to me. Maris Pรกi (marispai.huginnpress.com), Huginn's assistant editor, is a heathen witch based out of the West of Ireland. She is a writer, poet, digital artist and crafter dedicated to finding the sacred in the everyday. She's still actively seeking submissions for her upcoming anthology dedicated to looking at the evolving reality of pagan women, Beyond Maiden, Mother & Crone. (See http://huginnpress.com/submissions.html for more details.)

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Far-Away Beings: Connecting to Non-Native Totems BY LUPA

One of the many, many effects of globalization and a wider trade of information and energy is that we can now know about the flora and fauna of places all around the world, ones that we may never ever meet in person. While there was definitely preindustrial trade in live and dead animals from far-flung regions, there was often misinformation about non-native animals which often led to exaggerations growing into myths and legends barely resembling their sources. With the coming of the 20 th century, better photography and field study techniques, people had increased access to accurate information about these species. Traditionally, totems have been animals that a person lives close to. They facilitate connection to the land and its denizens, as well as promoting cohesion among family, clan or tribal groups. Since this is all locally based, it may seem awkward to try to transfer the same sort of relationship to animals that live halfway around the world. What good is the totem Giraffe if you live in Los Angeles? And yet, along with so many other changes, globalization has shifted what totemism is. In the U.S., at least, non-indigenous totemism is more individualistic than its indigenous roots. In Neopaganism, the concepts of the power animal and spirit guide have been increasingly conflated with totemism, so that a being that was once considered to be a sort of spiritual paterfamilias for a group has now become “Your Own Personal Totem”. There are fewer group norms surrounding totemism and the practice has become more what you make of it. Many totemists feel less limited by geography, instead inspired to work with totems from around the world. Sometimes this is due to totems connecting with them seemingly at random; however, there may also be cultural reasons surrounding why some non-native totems may come forth to work with a person. A good example, and one relevant to this publication, is that of animals that are important to Heathen traditions. In Norse mythology, certain animals are given importance, whether in association with a deity or through other symbolic meaning. Boars, cats, horses and others carry important figures in the Otherworld. Wolves are featured prominently as emblematic of chaos and fear, though also as companions—along with ravens—of Odin Allfather. The artistic creations of heathens, past and present, reflect the presence of these creatures within their spirituality. Some heathens will work with these animals in a totemic manner, whether individually or in a recreated collective form, working with them to increase their connection with Wolf, Raven, and others. These aren't only the facts about the animals, but the stories that have been woven around them throughout the centuries. Human interpretation of animals is just that—interpretation. However, some of these interpretations can stray very far away from the reality of the animals themselves, and eventually what you're tapping into isn't particularly grounded. Take wolves, for example. A very social, pack-oriented and human-shy animal, the wolf has been exaggerated into a monster, a lone predator of great danger to humans and livestock alike. 16

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While this may not seem very important, and we know the difference between fact and fiction, there are many people today—including Western ranchers—who will illegally shoot and poison wolves that are no real danger to livestock, with persecution well out of proportion to the actual threat. (Barry Holstun Lopez's Of Wolves and Men is an excellent exploration of this and other relationships between humans and wolves.) And this is just one example in which the mythos surrounding an animal can have a negative effect on the physical representatives of the species. If we are to honor the totems, their children and other kin, it is imperative that we know who they really are, not just who we assume they are. But where do we start? Just as modern heathens outside of northern Europe have to learn to connect to a land not associated traditionally with their paths, so many may never have seen a wolf or wild boar in person, let alone interact with the animals enough to gain the understanding that indigenous people have generally had. Totemism is based on symbolic extrapolations from human observation of animal behavior and other features, but if you can't spend time with the actual animals, how can you do justice to those relationships? Here it can be helpful to look to the creativity of Neopagan totemism. There are a variety of workarounds when you can't get to know your totem's physical counterparts. Here are just a few ideas: •

Get what physical observation you can. If the animal in question does live in your area but is elusive, try to learn ways to safely observe them in the wild, where they live, and how far into the wilderness you may need to go to reasonably find them. Be aware that even skilled naturalists and biologists spend most of their field time looking for the animals rather than observing them, so even getting a few seconds of direct observation can be helpful.

•

If the animal is unsafe to approach, or not in your area, see if a local zoo or wellmaintained wildlife park has captive individuals. Be aware that the behavior of wildlife in captivity can be very different from in their natural habitat. However, even being close to the animal can help facilitate a closer connection to the totem.

•

This also goes for doing volunteering with animal rehab facilities, veterinary clinics, etc. Offering your time in service to the animals may be a huge boon to working with the totems as they value those who care for their children genuinely.

•

If the totem is of a domestic animal, such as Horse, you may find it easier to visit facilities that house these animals. If you have the means, you may even open your home to one (or more) yourself. Just be aware of how much you can reasonably handle—it is no honor to neglect an animal, even unintentionally!

•

Supplement with books, videos and other third-party information from those who have directly observed the animal in the wild. The more recent the better, though some older sources do manage to continue being relevant over time. This is especially important if there are no physical animals of your totem in your area at all.

•

Invite benign spirits of the totem's species into your home; these may be animal spirits that once had a physical form, though this is not an absolute must. If you are concerned about inviting a dangerous being in, ask the totem to help with the process of finding the right “neighbors”. You can create houses for these spirits out of statues and other images of the animals, or other appropriate spirit containers. 17

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If you are not opposed to it, and if possession is legal and possible, you may wish to have a piece of the animal's remains, such as a scrap of fur or feathers. You may prefer things that are naturally shed, such as molted feathers or shed hair. If you are going to carry the remains of a deceased animal, be aware of how it died and when. Most available will have been farmed, hunted or trapped and killed deliberately, and you may not agree with this. Also, for legalities, please visit http://www.thegreenwolf.com/partslaws.html to start research on whether you can actually have parts of a particular species in your area. Finally, the remains may have their own spirit, a remnant of the animal that once wore the body; this can help be a good companion in learning more about the species overall.

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Talk directly to the totem about more ways to increase connection. Totems are the bridges between their species and everyone else, humans included, and in my experience if someone comes to them wanting to have a better relationship, they're often supportive (though this depends on the totem).

Granted, these are not substitutes for spending hours every day interacting with an animal in a shared natural environment. But some connection is better than none at all, and who knows? Perhaps the totem can help facilitate a special and particularly meaningful encounter in the future. Don't feel that your connection is inferior, either, just because you don't live in the same place as your totem's children. We have opportunities that our ancestors couldn't even fathom when it comes to expanding our spirituality and how we weave it into our lives. We may not have the lifelong connection to a specific ancestral home, but we have the ability to create a connection to far-away places, and those beings who live there, on terms previously unimagined. We are not our ancestors; we are ourselves. And our relationships to the totems and other spirits reflects that. Let us be proud of both where we have come from, and who we are now. Lupa is a (neo)shaman, counselor, author and artist living in Portland, OR. While she is not a heathen herself, she is fascinated by the ways in which heathenry has developed in recent years, particularly in experimental and exploratory manners. She may be found online at http://www.thegreenwolf.com and http://therioshamanism.com

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Heimdallr's Lesson BY SALENA ANDERSON

Water calms, stills, languid slow tide. The runes call, I rise still fluid They tease, they play in symbols, We laugh They aren’t done yet, the cast goes forth again Gebo, Nauthiz, Laguz Gifts have been given but water’s need calls again I close my eyes and see light’s reflection Cascading about me as I float in the depths Brilliant blue this water is Geometric dapples, sunstruck ripples in the soft sway The Nine swim in the distance They spin and play joyous in Life. He comes and surrounds with soft feather touch We drift languid to shore, no hurry. As I break surface Gleaming brilliance on the shore blinds Golden as the sun, gilded and bright No radiance has ever equaled except for His white burn Gulltopr. Golden Mane. I am overwhelmed, I bury my face into his wither I surrender my tears to the beauty as He gently looks on. Salena Anderson is a single mother and spouse who continually juggles the life of a votary with the mundane joys of getting children to daycare, a full time job, and sweeping child-gifted graham crackers away from Freya's kittens. She occasionally posts poetry, musings about forts, prayer, magic trees, and other such vagaries on her devotional site [http://TempleOfTheFlea.weebly.com].

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Astrology for the Masses for Yule 2011 BY CATHERINE CANNING

It’s December again, so welcome to Christmasworld. Until the 14th, Mercury Retrograde will be messing with our minds, so don’t worry your little jingle bell head over where you put the naughty or nice list. Forget the list. Do you recall the name of that smiley guy who high-fived everyone - even the people he hated? No, but you do remember the name of his friend who poisoned the town well. Humanity is flawed; just send everyone a chocolate Santa. The good news for the masses is the combined super powers of the lunar eclipse in Gemini on the 10th and Mercury moving forward on the 15th will vastly improve our dodgy memories. So before the family drop by with your new electric train set, you won’t have to second guess whether or not you refilled your anti-depressant prescription. After all, you need to get into the Yule spirit and erase any psychological pathology brought on by the eclipse. You don’t want your festivities resembling something out of Jersey Shore rather than Made in Chelsea! Pharmaceuticals are a must this season. Alright, alright: I feel your telepathy boring a hole in my skull chakra searching for the main event. You want to know if something Christmasalicious is coming your way. Look, I wouldn’t be worth my weight in New Age astrobabble if I didn’t warn you that the aforementioned lunar eclipse on the 10th plus Venus in Capricorn until the 20th will join forces and send you a very pretty package. There they are: the best gift that Santa could bring. A soul mate babe. The One. They’re so smart they can answer all your questions about the Akashic Records in 2.3 seconds: amazing. And they don’t smoke, swear, or like anything on television. RETURN THE GIFT! Well, didn’t anyone tell you Christmas persecutes the lonely and rejected? Having said all this, on December 26th, the universe is offering us all a 'get out of jail free' card in the shape of Jupiter moving forward from its retrograde position in Taurus. That’s right. After all the existential questioning, pills, and strange romances during the holidays the question arises: Did the Grinch steal my fucking Yule time? When Jupiter moves forward, the Grinch leaves. Now the cosmos is smiling in your direction. Maybe you’ll be sent someone who’s interesting and horny under the Mistletoe? Not to mention later in the month, when Venus moves into Aquarius, you might just start talking to “those people” again -- a.k.a. family. On a final note, I would be a braggart, a bore, and a bullshit artist if I didn’t warn you that sometimes my oracles screw up. But whatever happens, please remember that the holidays are really just a state of mind. So if thoughts are things and you think good thoughts about the Hols then you’ve created your own good time in a friendly little snow globe. So here’s to finding a full bottle of vodka under the tree or behind the altar, and please remember that every time we love, every time we give, it’s Yule.

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The Planets: Mercury is retrograde: November 25 - December 14 Lunar eclipse in Gemini: December 10 Mercury moves forward from its retrograde position: December 15 Venus is in Capricorn: November 27 - December 20 Jupiter moves forward from its retrograde position in Taurus: December 26 Venus is in Aquarius: December 21 - January 14, 2012

Catherine Canning is an astrology writer with her head up in the cosmos and feet firmly planted on the ground. You can find her stuff on "Astrology for the Masses" [http://www.facebook.com/astrology4themasses] and astro4themasses on Twitter. Catherine lives in County Wicklow with her crazy-making Gemini family.

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The Cave BY TALAS Pﾃ！

Who is the finder? The one who dares to seek. Who is the key? The one who dares to open. Who is the door? The one who stands between. In the wet slippery bowels of the earth, I listen. Water drips upon my head. Baptism. I can feel the wolves at my back, phantom queen ahead. I know the twisting of the ropes, the noose, the bonds, the promise, birth and death; the light, as above so below, even here, dug deep in her belly. Three questions for payment, a pennyworth's each: one for me and one for the sea and one for the gatekeeper makes up three. I know the fear, and it moves through me and beyond me. I hear the wolves, they harm me not. Crows haunt my vision and old dried-blood promises call me back. My fingers dig into sticky clay; unbirthing me, it sucks me back to the ground.

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In the darkness, a luminous pillar, a spectral throne, a red and phantom queen; an ancient altar, a snake, a wild and bloody king. These things know me, these rare and savage beings: I the king of no kingdom found, I the key and the door and the lock, I the savage child and the ravening wolf, the black-limbed raven, the urge to know, the bite of metal into skin, the soft give and tang of blood, the hammer and the anvil, the iron tempered into tool, the clay sculpted into cup. I hear such words. I sing. I fly. I climb. Talas PĂĄi is a well-travelled Odinsman and the editor of Huginn (huginnjournal.com & huginnpress.com). His writing has appeared in a variety of publications, including FulltrĂşi, Eternal Haunted Summer [eternalhauntedsummer.com] and "Odin's Gift" [odins-gift.com]. You should consider contributing to his newest project, The Northern Bestiary [http://huginnpress.com/submissions.html].

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â&#x20AC;&#x153;Ullrâ&#x20AC;? by Saga Odinsong Saga is a lifelong artist whose illustrations are her way of keeping the folklore alive. She lives in far Northern Wisconsin and works our of her studio Stark Raven Studios with her artist Blacksmith Husband, Dan Roesinger. Prints are available at http://www.etsy.com/shop/starkravenstudios13 24

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Sustaining Faith BY MARIS Pﾃ！

My upbringing was really quite Catholic. Irish Catholic, no less: the kind peppered with folk traditions, superstitions, proverbs and rules. There were holy days of obligation, days of fasting and abstinence, fish on Fridays and we all gave up something (cigarettes, sweeties, chips) for Lent. My mother had once entered the Convent, my father was a deacon in the Church, my grandmother was a Eucharistic minister and, once I'd made my First Holy Communion, I became an altar server. When I was fourteen, my father moved our whole family to the far north of Canada to take on a parish of his own. To say that our lives were steeped in religion would be a bit of an understatement. My parents' callings and vocations informed every aspect of our lives and, being members of an organised religion, they had a structure to work within and the wholehearted support of their faith community. Pagan mystics are not so lucky. Mysticism is at the core of every experience of the living divine and it can become an inescapable driving force that turns lives upside down, inside out and alters the very fabric of reality for those whose lives it touches. For mystics, there are obligations and rules and prohibitions that come with the territory that become as much of a backbone and rhythm as any of the Catholic holy days that the priests observe. Different days can take on special significance, certain foods become holy and all sorts of events, behaviors and observances that look distinctly peculiar from the outside (good liquor poured out on the ground instead of down your throat, portions of meals set aside for the incorporeal, an infinite number of other oddnesses) can start to form the warp and weft of every day life. Christian mystics -- nuns, brothers, monks -- take on vows of poverty, chastity and obedience as a matter of course, but many pagans resist the idea that such obligations might be a part of pagan mysticism. We don't have the same communities of elders that a young Christian brother would have as support for his vocation -- and, in many ways, unless we go looking for it, we don't even have much of an awareness that such things happen. Within modern heathenry especially, there is a great deal of conflict surrounding personal experiences of the gods and the notion that They might have an active hand in the lives of those They call. To have a religious vocation, whether mystical or clerical, within the confines of Neopagan faith is to be on a far harder path than our brethren within more established organised religion. It is no less important, no less vital and no less pressing -- having spent so much of my early life around the Christian devout before finding myself on a parallel pagan path, I can absolutely vouch for that -- but without the structure, it is a far harder journey to make. I remember as a small child asking my grandmother about what the point of cloistered nuns or monks was -- if they weren't out ministering to the people, surely their utility as clergy was compromised? She answered with a very simple analogy that satisfied my childish inquiry, but also gave me a framework to think about mysticism even now: the cloistered, on their mystics' path, were providing a backdrop of prayer and meditation for all the faithful, and it was like a battery for the rest of us to draw on -indirectly, of course -- when we needed it, because it was a very important niche they were filling. There are plenty of snide references online to the phenomena of the 'welfare shaman' whose life has been so spirit-touched, god-bothered and claimed that their ability to maintain a 'real' or 'mundane' life (either term is problematic; choose the one that 25

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offends you the least as no offense is intended) is severely compromised. Were these people men called by the Judeo-Christian God, there would be no expectation that they should have to maintain non-religious work, because the infrastructure would be there to support them. It is therefore utterly beneath any thinking pagan to denigrate such people and the services they provide, because the failing is holistic and not individual. Finding a way to sustain faith, trust and obedience to the gods in what can amount to a vacuum is one of the greatest challenges faced by the pagan mystic. Social media of all kinds connects the most isolated corners of the world and can bring much needed sharing and companionship into the lives of solitary mystics. Aside from Talas, I've never really been around any other heathens -- a handful of other pagans, yes, scattered across several countries, but never any other heathens. Facebook has been instrumental in building connections with other heathens for me, as have reading a variety of blogs. There are so many vivid, articulate pagan blogs out there being written by people with very real, very visceral experiences of their gods and spirits, and I find them essential when I'm wrestling with the faith/doubt cycle or feeling resistant to the hands of the gods in my life. It is in human nature to seek community and like-minded people, and in this way the internet has truly been a blessing to far-flung pagans around the world. The best moments in reading are when you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – that you’d thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you’ve never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it’s as if a hand has come out, and taken yours.1 There is a great body of writing on the subject of the mystic's journey beyond the internet: some of the most beautiful prayers and poetry in history have been written by those inflamed by the touch of their god(s). Rumi's verse, for example, leaves me breathless. If you've never looked at the writings of the mystics, he is an incredibly accessible place to begin. Qabalah and yoga, neither practice strange to modern pagans, were both originally grounded in mysticism. Even the most cursory research can yield phenomenal results, and perhaps offer a helping hand when you need it. Closer to home, there are spirits and wights all around us. Being aware of that and bringing oneself into alignment with it and the rhythms of the natural world is absolutely fundamental to any kind of pagan practice. Connecting to the land around you and its spirits can be the lifeblood of faith, particularly when coupled with a strong relationship with the Beloved and Honoured Dead. These are perhaps the oldest forms of religion that humanity possesses, and the emphasis on that connection is something that I believe that the pagan mystic has over the classical Christian mystic. To be aware of the immanence of the universe and to be able to go out into the wild places that can connect you directly to spirit and deity has got to be easier somehow than to have your spirituality focused on a distant bloodless heaven. But in spite of the doctrines that teach Heaven as being far removed from those of us still living, the three most active and chatty of my Beloved Dead were all devoutly Catholic -- my adored grandparents and a Christian brother who was like a father to me in my early teens. All three of them were far too loving and active to remain apart from the world when they could be a part of the world, and I'm grateful to them every day for being my invisible backbone and support when I need reminding that the intangible isn't all seeking to make my life harder. 1

Bennett, Alan, writ. The History Boys. Dir. Nicholas Hytner, and Perf. Richard Griffiths. Twentieth Century Fox, 2006. Film.

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Ultimately, those that put us on a mystical path are how we sustain ourselves upon it. We can -- and should -- look to each other and to the spirits and to the natural world for a helping hand or a leg up, but nothing quite compares to the feeling of grace that comes when you are in the right place spiritually at the right time. It can be unpleasant, emotionally grinding, socially awkward, dirty, smelly, messy, destructive or any number of other horrible things, but there is a deep peace that comes only from knowing one's place in the universe. The gods have a plan, even when we can't see it or aren't privy to it. Maris Pรกi (marispai.huginnpress.com), Huginn's assistant editor, is a heathen witch based out of the West of Ireland. She is a writer, poet, digital artist and crafter dedicated to finding the sacred in the everyday and is still actively seeking submissions for her upcoming anthology dedicated to looking at the evolving reality of pagan women, 'Beyond Maiden, Mother & Crone'. See her website for more details.

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Things He Brings BY TAHNI J. NIKITINS

Loss -We begin With fading memory Lain to rest With barrow kings Names long lost To dust and dreaming’s shadow Where cities, temples, altars Burned in the razing of the grove Are drifting ashes on the wind Fading photos in your mind Their stories gone, untold Thus you must begin And tell them new… Wealth -Then dig Dig deeper still Past copper coins And scattered faerie mounds Beyond silvered baubles Jangling crowns for the dead Further deeper and around Past tarnished treasure fading Like autumn leaves in rain There are stars in your eyes There is gold in your heart… Domain -Where once the ancients tread I do admit When I cast my eyes in the night To see the shadows of trees lumbering Through fog painted by the moon silver I believe in giants Who etched their memories In the roots of the earth Living in the wild and the storm I linger there Where we shall be swallowed whole Just to know…

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Growth -So see with your eyes Hear with your ears Lay your mind open and clear Breathe through your lungs And taste the air Drift on the current, cradled Be humbled And tender Deep in your chest, an ember To bleed and burn To light the world… Prophecy -Not always a boon And often a bane Where we become lost To what mind’s eye sees And forget Not slaves are we To the wyrd Which holds us near But its shapers we’ll be Into fading dawn And on… Joy -Gather your love Gather your laughter Revel in the sweets Home’s hearth fire brings The journey’s been long wash in tears while Blistered feet wandered Here tonight Heart and blood’s family Warmth in mirth’s sweet welcome To let the pains the journey brings Buffer you up Like a hawk on the wind. Tahni J. Nikitins has been a practicing pagan for eight years and writing stories and poems for as long as she can remember. Though she doesn't identify as heathen, she is a devoted to Loki. More of her stories and poems have been published at Eternal Haunted Summer and in Anya Kless's devotional, Lilith: Queen of the Desert.

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â&#x20AC;&#x153;Skadhiâ&#x20AC;? by Saga Odinsong

Saga is a lifelong artist whose illustrations are her way of keeping the folklore alive. She lives in far Northern Wisconsin and works our of her studio Stark Raven Studios with her artist Blacksmith Husband, Dan Roesinger. Prints are available at http://www.etsy.com/shop/starkravenstudios13 30

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Storytelling BY ANAÏS PÁI

The first thing I say, whenever I speak about storytelling in any way, is that stories are important. Stories are so interwoven into every part of our lives that it is almost impossible to go about avoiding them entirely. We use stories to teach our children how to behave in a variety of social situations. We sneak lessons and morals into almost every child’s story teaching them not to tell lies (The Boy Who Cried Wolf), to be kind to each other (The Lion and the Mouse) and that evil and wickedness is always punished. Now, we as adults know that this isn’t entirely how the world works. Almost everyone lies, people can be cruel, and sometimes evil people get away with it. But in teaching these stories to our children, we not only hope to instill these qualities in them, but we shape the world a little. If children believe what we tell them, then to them that is the truth and the reality of the world. But it’s not just for children. We use stories to teach ourselves, as adults, about our histories and our pasts. We use stories to speculate about our future. We still shape our world around the stories that we tell ourselves. That it is going to get better, that we need one good break and then we’ll be famous, and that we have one true love that we will find and there will be fireworks and everything will be wonderful. There seems to be a natural tendency to narrativize built into the human brain. We tend to think in terms of them, and to mentally insert ourselves into them. We find ourselves becoming a character or playing a role inside our own heads, or searching for that larger narrative, that thread of a plot to which we all connect. Part of my Work is storytelling -- actually going amongst people and telling them stories, whether it's a five-minute little ramble I made up myself, reading a bedtime story, or sitting down and writing a book. These are all things that I actively do, but how do they connect with the topic of Mysticism? How do they help me look for that something which is bigger than I am, to connect with the Universe, particularly through introspection or self-surrender, (which is part of the definition of mysticism)? Firstly, the easiest way for me to truly express, contemplate or even order an idea which I'm having is to write it down into the form of a story. It tends to take away a lot of emotional bias or apprehension that I may have, and give me a recognised framework in which I can examine whatever it is that I want to say. This does not mean that all my writing is journaling or that I simply write characters going through whatever I am going through. I just start with an idea and the story tends to arrange itself around that. I continue writing stories as much to find out what will happen next, as to tell to other people. I am not a writer who starts with a concise message or a plan, I just write: words fall from my brain to the page and usually by the time I have finished, I have learned something about myself or about what I wanted to say in the first place. Sometimes I even develop a new way of viewing the world around me. Secondly, in reading, learning and telling stories from all over the world, you can see many similarities between people and cultures which at first glance would seem very opposed to each other. Just with folktales, we have recurring themes across the entire world. The Children of Lir, The Six Swans, The Seven Ravens, and Udea's Brothers all feature a sister protecting her brothers after they are turned into birds of some sort. There are 31

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versions of Snow White from Germany, through Russia, into China. There is some essential grain or idea in these stories that causes them to keep on being retold, generation by generation in these very separate and different countries. There are some paradigms that are repeated throughout all cultures, all languages, all stories. To list all of them would take longer than this printing allows, because it seems that really, we have a lot in common with each other. This is not to say that we have nothing that is truly individual. On the contrary, each telling of a story changes it and makes it unique to that time, that place. It has its own distinct personality at each iteration; I don't think you can ever truly tell the same story twice. But there do seem to be some repeating ideas, which leads me to ask; why? Why are these the stories that get repeated and retold when there are so many forgotten and lost? Is it that there really once was a girl whose brothers were once turned in to birds? Was there once a princess whose stepmother tried to cut out her heart? There must be some central idea or truth to them which speak to us and makes us want to tell them, and to share them over and over again, down through the years, and across continents. My favourite stories, rather tellingly, are ones about storytellers and tricksters themselves. I have a particular fondness for the Anansi stories. Originally West African, Anansi is the storytelling trickster spider-man of hundreds of legends. For the most part He talks his way into and then back out of trouble. In Anansi and the Tar Baby however, Anansi manages to end up dead due to His own greed and trickery. Here we see just how far the overarching narratives and truths reach. Even in Anansi’s own stories, He traps himself and has to pay the price. There’s a sort of inevitability throughout it, as if He placed Himself willingly into a story and has to see it through to the end, even though it ends badly for Him. Finally, there is the telling of stories. This, for me, is the part where I most see mysticism in what I do. So much of mysticism is solitary, but in sending a story out into the world, in saying words aloud to others, that is where I see my self-surrender and my transcendence. There is a moment of beauty and magic in telling a really good story to a group of people. It’s in that moment where you pause, and their breath catches with you. It’s in the glances they throw each other when you say something funny or suggestive. It’s in the tears and the smiles and the feeling of unity that you get when everyone is listening to the same story and are there with the characters, be they fact or fiction. At the least of times, you’ve brought people together for a little while, even if it is just you and one other person. But at the best of times, you are just a conduit for this huge story which is moving through you and to the listeners. It is affecting and changing them; making them feel things and think things. Those are my moments of mysticism and wonder, and they are what I live for. Anaïs Pái is an itinerant storyteller from a long line of seanchaithe. Her current project, when she's not entertaining and educating tourists and pilgrims to Connacht's ancient sites, is a retelling of the Anansi corpus.

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Hela BY TALAS Pﾃ！

Collect the oil-slick feathers of a raven, grey fur of a wolf, scales of a snake, one single perfect bleached bone, a gleaming razor blade, never dulled. Start there. Take a thick book of blank pages, paper of pure white, numbering thousands. Fill it, in black ink, with the stories of every person who lies beneath a mound. Start with your own. Find the doll of a young girl: new, perfect, never played with. Hold it and know this: the girl has long since grown. Carve open your chest and arrange them inside, close to your heart. At night, at the dark of the moon, bury a clock with no hands in the wet earth where dead men walk, at the crossroads. Talas Pﾃ｡i is a well-travelled Odinsman and the editor of Huginn (huginnjournal.com & huginnpress.com). His writing has appeared in a variety of publications, including Fulltrﾃｺi, Eternal Haunted Summer [eternalhauntedsummer.com] and "Odin's Gift" [odins-gift.com]. You should consider contributing to his newest project, The Northern Bestiary [http://huginnpress.com/submissions.html].

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Review: Walking the Heartroad BY MARIS Pﾃ！

Published in 2008 by Asphodel Press, Silence Maestas' Walking the Heartroad: The Devotional Path for Spirit Workers is one of -- if not the -- seminal text on myticism in modern Heathenry and therefore, even though it is an older volume, it would be remiss not to touch upon it in this, the mysticism issue of Huginn. Maestas writes first from a deeply personal perspective and makes no bones of this fact, articulating vividly how spirit work, mysticism and devotional practice interweave and intertwine through his life, offering his own experiences as an articulation of the concepts that he then offers larger context for. "This book, then," he writes in the introduction, "is my gift to spirit-workers. It is the map of my devotion, and how I came to find joy in this path. If my footsteps on this path are of use to you, take their road and may it bring you joy." One of the joys of bibliophilia is the minor miracle that can sometimes occur when you find exactly the right book -- or even just exactly the right passage -- at exactly the right time. Walking the Heartroad came to me at precisely the right time, a blessing just when I needed it. And I think that's sort of the point. Walking the Heartroad is about the joy, hope and passion that Maestas has found on his journey, service and sorrow help form the backbone of WALKING THE HEARTROAD his experience -- and he writes with true compassion The Devotional Path for Spirit Workers for the suffering that can come from that dedication. By Silence Maestas 58 pp. Asphodel Press, 2008. $3 download, This is one of the most profoundly loving books I've $9 print. Available at ever had the pleasure to read. It is an example of the http://asphodelpress.com/specialty.html beautiful paradox that occurs in the act of articulating the exquisitely personal -- through sharing that sliver of soul, true subjectivity can touch something universal and profound. While the subtitle identifies this book as being intended for spirit workers, I believe that anyone with dreams of mysticism or a devotional practice will benefit from reading this book. The immanence experienced by mystics through the ages is here honoured, and given as a spiritual ancestry for anyone with a personal experience of the divine. As a work of theology, Maestas offers a language that can be used to describe the experiences of the mystic, borrowing from other traditions but bringing it all back to Northern Tradition. (5/5)

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Better than Adrenaline BY VIVIAN IX

Just over a year ago I announced my goal to spear a shark. Doing so would mean that I had become excellent at spear-fishing because sharks are fast, and because there is no room for error because they will most certainly attack you if you wound one without killing it. I meant a little hammerhead or a baby bronze whaler -- something I could eat, not something huge. My goal was to get better at spear-fishing, not to eat sharks. My parents expressed concern at this desire. They also expressed concern that I spear-fished by myself every weekend in shark-infested waters. (All waters are sharkinfested, but my town was known for sharks because of great white sightings.) They brought to my attention that I could lose a limb to a shark attack or die from shallow water blackout. At the time I didn’t care about death or dismemberment. I still don’t care about a quick death, as I wouldn’t notice it, and have even written a will and a death note. Dismemberment does bother me now and is something I want to avoid. It sounds crazy that I was not too phased by the thought of dismemberment. However, it makes sense if you understand my worldview at the time: I believed that a life without adrenaline was not worth living. Adrenaline was the best thing I had ever experienced: the hunt, the fight, the chase, the near miss, the escape. I loved the excitement, the fear, the confusion, the delirium, the heartbreaking beauty and above all the transcendence. In the heat of the moment my mind would become still. I became a leaf on the wind. In that moment I would touch the gods. Everything looked different. It was heart-wrenchingly beautiful. Indescribably beautiful. It filled me with wonder. It was so good that I would only emerge from the sea once I was blue-faced and shivering. By the time I got home the cold had pierced me so thoroughly that I feared I would never be warm again. It showed on my skin but not in my voice, which enthusiastically tried to explain to my housemate the things I had seen. My eyes were wide with wonder: I had seen. I had seen something indescribable. It was a knowledge impossible to convey without using religious terms. I didn’t want to give it up, not even to preserve my limbs or life; I would rather kill myself than live without it. Life was dull and muted. The only time I felt alive was when my blood was soaked with adrenaline. I took it to extremes. I did martial arts, bike toured, spear-fished, surfed and had crazy intense sex with strangers. Surfing scared me the most. Every time I got dragged under a wave I would fear that I wouldn’t get out in time. My lungs burned, my ears pounded with the pressure and my eyes stung from the sand shoved under my eyelids. The wave rolled me over and over. I couldn’t see or feel which direction the surface was, so would swim in any direction and hope it was up. After some time I developed a fascination with near-death experiences. I didn’t know why but I wanted to get as close to death as possible. I moved to the U.S. and 35

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discovered the BDSM scene, who were all too happy to help me feel like I was about to die. I did two hook suspensions, two hook pull ceremonies, a gang-rape and drowning scene and a waterboarding. I then hitchhiked around the States before agreeing to sail to Panama with a guy I met on Craigslist. It was here, in a sinking 31-foot trimaran off the coast of Honduras, that I finally got the near-death experience I craved. I had time to prepare, to think things through, to dedicate my life to the ocean spirits and to have a vision of what I was supposed to do with my life. After that I no longer felt the pull towards death. After this experience I felt half-dead. I think this was because I renounced the world in preparation for death. I stepped out of the world and for the first time was able to view it as an outsider. I am slowly being dragged back into the world of the living by my lover, who provides me with joyous and loving experiences that pull me back into this world. A few months ago that I changed my view on adrenaline. I learned that life as an adrenaline addict would consist of a series of injuries and chronic illnesses. I didn’t want this. Around the same time I also discovered three things that were also very good (I cannot decide if they are better than adrenaline): tantric sex, meditation and being in love. Since then I have sworn off all forms of adrenaline and have kept the beast at bay by pursuing these other forms of intensity. These days I transcend reality via meditation, freediving, ejaculation and tantric sex. I learned to freedive properly - the goal is to not release any adrenaline because it increases your oxygen use. It’s an underwater meditation. I miss the hunt, the fight and the escape. I reminisce about the things I’ve done. I now understand why people thought I was a nutcase - the things I’ve done sound incredibly reckless even to me. Adrenaline opened me up. It was the first way I learned to transcend reality, to touch god, and because of this we are forever tied. I want to use my experiences to help seekers who choose the Path of Adrenaline. I feel that I can act as a guide. But I cannot walk that path again because I don’t want to be sick or injured. "Hi, my name is Vivian and I’m a recovered adrenaline addict.” At least I’ll always keep my status as a hard motherfucker. Vivian is an animist, anarchist, primitivist and spirit worker currently based in Malaysia. She writes at Cartographers of Transgression [http://cartographersoftransgression.wordpress.com/] and [http://vivianix.tumblr.com/]. She doesn't have a last name yet.

2.1 : MYSTICISM

He Watches BY SALENA ANDERSON

The rhythm of the sunâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s solar cross Flames painlessly burning my limbs He looks on, Come- come follow me And I dare. We ride the tree up higher into Yggdrasil Ratatosk scolds, he is chatty, he gossips Spreading tales and mischief along the Nine Encircled by the eagle, the hawk rises above my eyes This glorious light shines oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;er the worlds I look as though through a frame Cornered by the four directions Four stags: Dvalin, Dain, Duneyr, Durathror I raise my hands to the picture within It is the world, the worlds The hawk focuses in, the trees are as blades of grass People going about their lives Loving, living, crying, and dying I gasp in the wonder And I find myself on the bench Sitting beside Him Watching and listening over the valley, the worlds below. He watches. Salena Anderson is a single mother and spouse who continually juggles the life of a votary with the mundane joys of getting children to daycare, a full time job, and sweeping child-gifted graham crackers away from Freya's kittens. She occasionally posts poetry, musings about forts, prayer, magic trees, and other such vagaries on her devotional site [http://TempleOfTheFlea.weebly.com].

VOLUME 2, ISSUE 2 : Ethics & Virtues MIDSUMMER 2012 HUGINN is named for Thought, especially thought that goes out into the world and transforms it. Likewise, the voices aired in HUGINN are those which Heathenry needs most right now: of faith, of exploration, of mysticism, of global community, of experience, of experimentation, of radicalism, of aggressive acceptance of those the gods choose. HUGINN is now accepting submissions for the Midsummer 2012 issue. Submissions are due by 1 June 2012. The Midsummer issue will deal with ETHICS & VIRTUES: living your values; ethics in myths, from Tyr and Thor to Loki and Bolverk; noblesse oblige, flyting, holmgang; the advice of Hรกvamรกl; embracing the Nine Noble Virtues -- or not -- and beyond. Is there room for situational ethics and moral relativism in modern Heathenry, or is the righteous way clear? HUGINN's next issue will be published for Midsummer 2012 as an online magazine at http://huginnjournal.com, with issues available for .pdf download for e-book readers or to print. It will also be available in a paperback edition at http://huginnjournal.com/lulu. Writers are encouraged to submit scholarly and/or experiential articles, essays, stories, poems or ongoing columns, which deal with some aspect of ETHICS & VIRTUES, in either plain text (TXT) or rich text (RTF) to submit@huginnjournal.com. Please include a 1-3 sentence author bio. Artists are encouraged to submit high-resolution original full color OR black-and-white art in PNG, GIF, JPEG or TIFF to submit@huginnjournal.com. For inquiries into full-color cover art, please email editor@huginnjournal.com. New or notyet-established writers and artists are more than welcome. For other questions or comments, please email Talas Pรกi at editor@huginnjournal.com .