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7serendipities · 2 years

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Freyja’s Falcon Flights

In my home practice, the Autumnal Equinox is a celebration of Freyr and Freyja, although that celebration often dovetails with both the Pleiades acronychal rising and Rosh Hashanah. Generally, I try to make something that has both apples and honey, drawing on the common themes. This year I made an apple spice cake in a spooky bundt pan, but with no honey due to the allergies of a household member. (Then I went back and made a honey-filled fairy cake, hold the spice, as you saw in the previous post, and there will be raw apples dipped in honey for tomorrow.) That was the main focus of my celebration: just food shared with my household, our household spirits, our ancestors, and the two deities of the occasion.

A few days previous, I did a journey to check in with Freyr and Freyja, to see what they wanted for their holiday, and that’s when I got the go-ahead to make the apple spice cake. I also asked about something that had been flitting in my head for a few weeks, which I was pretty sure had come from her. I’d had an inkling that she wanted something monthly from me, going forward — that she was finally ready to step up (or rather that I was finally ready for her to step up) and become more central to my practice. I had the term “Falcon Flights” rattling around in my head, as a sort of analogue to “Crow Calls”, but until I went to journey to her I didn’t know what that meant. I had sort of guessed that it was meant to be something oracular, in keeping with my Dark Moon rituals to Na Morrigna, and my previous Bright Moon rituals to the Eyes of Ra, but, nope. She wants me to write and share journey prompts. “Falcon Flights”, indeed.

This month is a little late, but for next year I’ll be doing these from equinox to equinox, on the waxing half moon before the solstice and the waning half moon after the solstice, so this will be the only one until next March, and they will only overlap with the Morrigna Dark Moons in August and potentially September (depending on the moon cycle). This year that waning half was the 17th, before the equinox, but I didn’t journey to see her and Freyr until after that (whoops!).

I also asked her what tarot deck she wanted to go with the runes (similar to how the Morrigna have a preferred tarot deck that I use alongside ogham), and she picked…. none of the ones I already had. We settled on the Dark Wood Tarot, by Abigail Larson and Sasha Graham, published by Llewellyn Books, and that got here yesterday, at which point I clarified a couple of things about this new endeavor via divination, and then… I got enormously sidetracked by my Way Opening celebration. After that, I just didn’t have the energy to do another journey (to test the prompt) and then write up a blog, so I apologized and begged off and here I am on Saturday night, writing it up now, instead.

Note: This journey prompt is based on cosmology used by my Seidr Guild, which was adapted from Hrafnar’s cosmology as written down in Diana Paxson’s book The Way of the Oracle. If you have your own method of getting to Freyja or Folkvangr, feel free to use that, instead! And I hope I don’t need to say it, but I’m only providing a prompt; you do this journey at your own risk. Try to do it safely, and practice good spiritual hygiene! This doesn’t have much of a lead-in or return, as it’s meant for a more advanced audience, so do whatever your usual routine is for trance and journey work: cleanse, shield, ground, center, etc. You could write out a longer script and then even record it, maybe, if you work better from an audio file than a written prompt. Make it work for you, and your practice! I’m just the messenger, not the keeper of orthopraxy.

Falcon Flight to Himingbjorg

(Prepare an offering for Freyja, and one for Heimdall, before beginning.)

Begin in stillness, and quiet, and darkness. Find your center, and align yourself with earth and sky. As you stare at the darkness behind your eyes, feel and see as mist swirls up from the ground, obscuring everything around you. After a moment, it begins to part, leaving you standing in a flowery meadow.

When you arrive in the meadow, take a moment to observe around you, turning until you see a path. At the entrance to the path are two shrubs, and as you move on that direction, you see trees as well. Shrubs give way to trees and undergrowth on either side of the path, getting taller and denser as you move onward, until they join overhead into an arch, forming a tunnel of trees that slopes downward, getting denser and darker.

Eventually, you notice that the path has become flat, and then it begins to rise. Now the trees are thinning again, branches giving way to brightness, and as the trees again give way to shrubs, you see a gate in front of a wide plain and beyond it, the great world tree. If you have any guides or guardians you wish to accompany you, ones who can join you in flight, call to them now, before you step through the gate and make your way towards the tree.

As you approach the World Tree, circle around it clockwise, until you see an opening beneath one of the great roots. Duck under this root and enter the tunnel beneath. There is hard dirt packed beneath your feet, and the entire tunnel seems to have been hewn from that same clay-rich dirt and sandstone. Not as many feet come this way — the floor is still rough in places, so watch your step as you continue forward. There are torches set into sconces in the rough hewn walls, and their light looks like fire but you feel no heat as we continue past, and you smell no smoke or pitch.

The tunnel curves gently and then begins to rise in a gradual incline, ending in a doorway, two huge stones on either side and capped with a third. Touch one gently as you step out into the fresh air — these are worn by the elements and smooth to the touch. If you look back to the entrance, you will notice that on this side, the tunnel leads into what looks like a large burial mound, standing alone in a large clearing, though the forest is slowly encroaching from all sides.

Smell the air — the pine sap scent is strong, and your nose can tell there is moving water somewhere nearby, even if your ears cannot yet hear it. Now you should continue, following a clear trail deeper into the forest. Your footfalls are muffled by pine needles, and the air seems still. The scent and after a while the sound of water is to your left as you walk, and after a short time, you arrive at a fork, with three paths to choose from.

One path curves to the left, and you can just make out a bridge over a creek in the distance. The one to the right seems to vanish into the trees. Continue down the middle path, which leads straight ahead. After a while, the trees seem to thin a bit, and the underbrush grows less tangled. There is a little smoke in the sky, above the rise of the hill, as though it comes from a hearth-fire, and you follow the path towards it.

As the path reaches the edge of the forest, and the pine needles give way to a large open field, your eyes are drawn to the great hall. It is large, and you know at once to whom it belongs. This is Freyja’s Hall, Sessrumnir, and you are in Folkvangr. Go and find the Lady of this place, and give her the offering you brought.

When she has accepted your offering, ask for the lend of her falcon cloak, that you might fly on to your next destination with her blessing. Place it on your shoulders, and hold still as she waves her staff over your head, completing your transformation.

Take off into the sky then, and fly! Fly for the sheer joy of it, swoop and roll. Higher and higher — but do not forget your ultimate destination. You seek the Bifrost, that you might follow it to Himingbjorg, Heimdall’s cloud-castle.

When you arrive at Himingbjorg, alight on the wall — Heimdall will help you regain your own shape.

Thank him, and then give him the offering you brought.

Once he has accepted it, you may ask one question and one question only, and he will show you what he can see from up here, and give you your answer.

When you are well answered, ask him to help you transform once more, and then return to Freyja, waiting for you on the ground.

After she returns you to your own form, give her back the cloak and thank her. If there is anything else you wish to say to her, do it now.

When you are ready to depart, go back the way you came: through the forest, to the mound, through the mound-tunnel and out from under the root, across the plain, and back to the gate, through the tunnel of trees, and back to the meadow. Then the mist will swirl up again, and take you back to your body.

#Falcon Flights #Freyja #holiday #journey work #Heimdall

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hedgewitchgarden · 2 years

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I had a small part in a Seiðr oracular ritual at this year’s Mystic South. I was asked to provide priestly aftercare for those who received messages from their Gods and ancestors, and so I expected to help people with grounding, processing, and on a couple of occasions, accepting the messages they were given.

I did not expect to be drafted as a journalist.

The ritual was presented by the Potomac Seiðr Guild Ondvegisulur. Their work is based on the Hrafnar Oracular Seiðr ritual, as outlined in Diana Paxson’s book The Way of the Oracle. Briefly, a Seeress sits veiled on a High Seat. A guide leads the assembly downward to the gates of Helheim. There the assembly waits while the Seeress goes into Helheim. In this world, participants approach the High Seat and ask questions of their Gods or ancestors. The Seeress attempts to find them and relays the question and the answer.

Sometimes it took the Seeress a moment to find someone (especially a deity from another pantheon) but they were almost always successful. The cosmological implications of that are interesting, but that’s another post for another time.

About an hour into the ritual, someone had a question for Loki.

And He showed up.

[...]

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thenorseshaman · 3 years

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The Return of the Völva

Recovering the Practice of Seiðr

Darkness covers the tents scattered across the drying grass of the festival grounds with a kindly shadow; at the far end of the sloping valley, the cliffs are edged by the first silver shimmer of the rising moon. As its light grows, it outlines a canvas pavilion and glimmers on the upturned faces of the folk gathered before it. They are gazing at a tall chair like a throne, but higher and draped with a bearskin, where a veiled figure waits, her body motionless, her face in shadow.

“The gate is passed, the seidhkona waits,” says the woman sitting on the fur-covered stool below the high seat. “Is there one here who would ask a question?”

After a moment’s hesitation, someone rises. He must decide whether to move from his present home or continue where he is. What should he do? What fate does the Völva see?

“Speak now, seeress, ’till said thou hast. Answer the asker ’till all he knows. . .” says the leader. And after a moment the seidhkona, her voice harsh as if it comes from a great distance, begins to answer him.

This could be a scene from the world of our ancestors, but in fact the ritual described above took place at a pagan festival in Northern California. For the past three years, a group called Hrafnar (“the Ravens”) has been performing a reconstruction of the Old Norse seidh ritual as a service to the community. The group has worked outdoors in rain or moonlight, in an underground bunker, and in living rooms; for groups of forty or more people, or for only two or three. In addition to assisting in personal growth, our purpose has been to demonstrate the validity of the shamanic tradition of Northern Europe, and to serve the larger pagan community to which we belong as the Völvas of Scandinavia served their people. The procedure has undergone many changes during that time, and continues to evolve, but we have now learned enough so that it seems appropriate to share our findings.

Norse Shamanism

The form of divination described above is one of a group of practices referred to as Seidh, which bear a strong resemblance to activities which in other cultures are called Shamanism. In order to understand what Hrafnar is trying to do, one needs to know something about Shamanism in general and how it was practiced in the northern lands.

Shamanism may well claim to be the oldest type of spiritual practice still in use among humankind. Evidence for activities similar to those of later shamans can be seen in the Paleolithic cave paintings. Shamanic practices have survived at all the edges of the inhabited world, with remarkable similarities in both technique and symbolism appearing in places as disparate as Siberia and Tierra del Fuego. Such a broad dispersal suggests that shamanism was practiced by homo sapiens at a very early stage of development, before its dispersion into different cultures. With such a venerable and extensive history, one would expect to find evidence of shamanic practice in the pre-Christian cultures of Northern Europe as well.

A careful analysis of Norse and Celtic sources suggests that this is indeed true. To the reader familiar with the literature of shamanism, many of the visionary and magical feats attributed to both Druids and Old Norse vitkis or völvas seem strongly reminiscent of shamanic practices. The Icelandic sagas are rich in accounts of magic of all kinds, including spirit journeys, weatherworking, healing, prophecy, and shapechanging. Some of the Scandinavian practices may well have been learned from the Saami (Lapps) or Finns, but accounts from Celtic and even Greek legend support a belief in native Indo-European shamanism as well.

Seidh

The practice for which we have the most information is called seidh (nominative case in Old Norse, seidhr), which may come from a word meaning “to speak” or “to sing”, or possibly be cognate to the verb “to seethe”, derived from the rituals of salt-boiling (Grimm, III:1047). According to Stephen Glosecki,

The etymology of seidhr, however, suggests indigenous development, perhaps retention of Indo-European practice. The mysterious term is cognate with French séance, Latin sedere; Old English sittan, and thus with a large group of terms based on the Indo-European root *sed-. A seidhr, then, was literally a séance — a “sitting” to commune with the spirits.

— (Shamanism and Old English Poetry, p. 97)

In the literature, seidh refers to various kinds of magical practice, including an act of divination or prophecy performed while in trance. Other terms for the practitioner of seidh would be seidhkona, spákona, or for a man, seidhmadhr. A more general term for a male spiritual practitioner was vitki (in Anglo-Saxon, wicca or [fem.] wicce). At an earlier period, both men and women appear to have practiced this craft. Male practitioners of seidh included Ragnvald Rettilbeini (the son of King Harald Fairhair, who was burned by Erik Bloodaxe at their father’s command along with the men who worked seidh with him), and Eyvindr Kelda, who was drowned by King Olaf. However the majority of those who practice seidh in the sagas are female. The strong feminine tradition makes this form of shamanism especially interesting to women.

Skill in seidh was a speciality of the god Odin. It is said to have been taught to the Aesir by the goddess Freyja (Ynglingasaga: 4) and parts of the practice probably originated with the Vanir cult. On the other hand, Odin was himself originally a shamanic deity, who seems to have acquired this magical technique in addition to his mastery of the runes and other lore. In part VII of the Ynglingasaga, we learn that —

Odin had the skill which gives great power and which he practiced himself. It is called seith, and by means of it he could know the fate of men and predict events that had not yet come to pass; and by it he could also inflict bane on men, or soul loss or waning health, or also take wit or power from some men, and give them to others. But this sorcery is attended by such ergi [a term meaning sexual, or spiritual, receptivity used as an insult] that manly men considered it shameful to practice it, and so it was taught to priestesses. . . .

and,

Odin could change himself. His body then lay as if sleeping or dead, but he became a bird or a wild beast, a fish or a dragon, and journeyed in the twinkling of an eye to far-off lands, on his own errands or those of other men. Also, with mere words he was able to extinguish fires, to calm the seas, and to turn the winds any way he pleased.

A passage from the Lokasenna is of especial interest, since if the verb in the second line is examined carefully, it may provide evidence for Norse use of the shamanic drum. Taunting Odin, Loki says–

But thou in Samsey wast performing seidh

And beating out (spells) like a Völva,

Vitki-like didst pass through the world of men,

In woman’s wise, I believe.

— (Lokasenna: 24)

Other practices identified as seidh include raising storms, journeying or battling in animal form, sending a nightmare to kill someone by suffocation in his sleep, and love spells, all things with which shamans in other cultures are credited (or accused of) as well. Journeying, both in the body and in trance, is a standard practice in Norse literature. Destinations vary, there are references to travel in Midgard (viewing other parts of the real world) and seeking Odin’s Seat of Seeing in Asgard. However by far the most common use of the term seidh is in reference to a ritual in which the seeress (völva or seiðkona) sits on a platform or high seat (seidhjallr), goes into trance and prophesies for the community. It is this practice which Hrafnar has to date spent the most time in recovering.

The most comprehensive account of a seidh session (or indeed, of any Norse ritual) which survives is the story in section four of the Saga of Erik the Red, in which a Völva comes to one of the settlements in Greenland to prophesy for the community. The idea that physically elevating the seer will assist in vision also seems to be behind the tripod upon which the Delphic Pythia sat to prophesy, and perhaps the tree trunk which the Machi shamaness of the Araucanian tribe of South America climbs in order to declare her visions as well.

In former times the machi mounted a platform supported by shrubs (the rewe) and there, in prolonged contemplation of the sky, she had her visions… When the machi has returned to her senses, she describes her journey to the sky, and announces that the Sky Father has granted all the wishes of the community.

— (Eliade: Shamanism, p.325)

The important features of the seidh rite in Erik’s Saga are as follows: The Völva was an itinerant priestess, requested to come to the steading to divine for them when the current famine would end. Other texts suggest that formerly such priestesses travelled with a group of younger people, perhaps in training, but at this period the Spákona Thorbjorg alone remained. When she arrived, she was given an opportunity to get to know the place, and then fed a meal of the hearts of all the different kinds of beasts available (possibly a reference to a sacrifice, in which the rest of the meat would have been eaten by the others). In Irish tradition, an offering to the gods was also sometimes a prerequisite to prophecy.

To prophesy, the Greenland Völva sat upon a raised seat with a cushion stuffed with hen feathers. To enable her to go into trance, a special song, the vardhlokur, was sung by a woman, which summoned the spirits. As a result, the seeress prophesied the end of the famine, and also answered many questions for members of the community. She wore a special costume, consisting of a blue cloak ornamented with stones, a necklace of glass beads, a cap of black lambskin lined with white catskin, catskin gloves, and calfskin shoes. A belt supported her skin pouch of magical paraphernalia and a walrus ivory handled knife, and she carried a carven staff with a brass knob, also set with stones. The most significant aspects of this attire are probably the inclusion of different kinds of animal fur, especially the skins of the cat, sacred to Freyja, and the staff, which appears in a 6th century plaque which may depict a priestess, and is among the items forbidden to Christians. In Laxdælasaga, a seidh staff is found in a grave believed to be that of a völva.

The Hrafnar Seidh Ritual

In the references to prophetic seidh which have survived, attention focuses on the questions, and beyond the information that a special song was sung, little is said about the techniques used to achieve vision. However in studying the Eddas, we note that the Voluspá;, BaldersdraumR, and the Shorter Seeress’ Prophecy all recount episodes in which Odhinn journeys to the Underworld to consult the Völva. These stories suggest two possibilities — the first is that the place in which prophetic vision is found is Hel, home of the ancestral spirits, and second is that the process of questioning was structured according to a traditional formula to which the seer was conditioned to respond. In seidh as performed by Hrafnar, singing is used to change consciousness and raise energy, the journey to the Underworld serves to bring everyone to the source of knowledge, and the formulaic questioning keeps the visionary state under control.

The first step is purification with the smoke of sacred herbs. Today smudging is most familiar from Native American tradition, but the practice of smoking with herbs (called recels) is found in Anglo-Saxon sources and elsewhere in European folklore. The purpose of the practice is to help people get rid of tensions and preoccupations that would prevent them from focusing on the work at hand. The leader or householder then defines the space to be used for the ceremony. One or more of the participants may orient and balance the group by honoring the directions and the local nature spirits. Finally, the gods in general and those deities particularly associated with seidh are invoked. With each step, the group moves deeper into the world of Norse myth. By the time the journeying begins, everyone should be caught up by the momentum of the ceremony.

None of this is strictly necessary for the practice of seidh. However Christian denunciations of pagan prophetic practice indicate that the gods were invoked before performing divination. More important is the psychological function of these activities. Taking time to establish Sacred Space provides a transitional period in which the participants can release the preoccupations of the day and their identities in the modern world and move into the world of Nordic myth. It is also useful to define the area of the ritual, especially when a ceremony is being performed in someone’s living room.

Wearing authentic clothing helps all of the participants make that psychological transition, just as wearing a cap or cape with skins or pictures of one’s power animal and other symbols helps the shaman to function. A great deal of this could be classed as theater, but any analysis of the shamanic literature will make the dramatic element in most traditional practices quite clear.

‘Tis time to sing at the Seat of Thul,

At the well of Urdh to welcome wisdom. . .”

With these words from the Havamál we move into the heart of the ritual, preparation for the prophetic trance begins.The seidh journey is powered by the energy raised by dance and drumming, chant and song. As in traditional societies, an exchange takes place between shaman and people in which the energy of the community enables the shaman to journey farther and faster to bring back the knowledge they need. The forms this takes may vary. Sometimes Hrafnar ceremonies include fiddlers who play Swedish folk music to get people into the mood. More often, we use the drum. The drummer should begin a strong beat to which all may sway, clap, etc. and if there is room, dance in a line or spiral which becomes a circle again, or only the seer/esses may dance. This is followed by the power songs of the seer/esses. A whistle may signal the end of the preparatory phase.

The Guide or drummer then begins a slow beat, and Guide begins the induction, or the Seer/ess may narrate the journey. It begins with instructions to relax the limbs, to deepen and regularize the breathing. Then people are directed to visualize a familiar outdoor spot from which a path leads downward and into a forest. The trees arch overhead to form a tunnel, through which one passes to the Sacred Grove. This is the barrier between the real world and Midgard, which is the Mid-world, the non-ordinary version of our normal plane of existence. In the center of the Sacred Grove rises Yggdrasil, the world tree. From this point, the journey incorporates imagery from traditional Underworld journeys, ending before the Gate, where all except the Seer/ess remain during the questioning.

The journey always follows the same general outline. Since this is being done aloud, the rest of the group hears and is carried along on the journey. In practice, each participant interprets the narration through his or her own symbol system, so that each person’s journey is different, although everyone arrives at the same goal. Each seer/ess or Guide visualizes the journey and narrates it in his or her own way, however the route is always essentially the same. As the group has continued to work together, members have influenced each other’s visions of the road.

This shared vision is the equivalent of the culture-specific interpretation of the Otherworld inherited by members of a traditional society. It also places the entire group in a rapport which facilitates the divination. Some symbols are universal, but the visions of individuals in a traditional culture tend to consist of images which other members of that culture can recognize and understand. By intentionally furnishing the first part of the journey with images from Norse culture, we increase the probability that the original material that follows will come from the same stratum of the collective unconscious, providing an integrated and comprehensible experience.

It is important to note that the Hel of Germanic mythology is by no means the same as the Hell of Christianity, to which, in English, it gave its name. Although Loki’s daughter Hella, who rules it, is in part a goddess of death and decay, the other side of her face is young and beautiful. Hel appears to include both the horrors of the grave and the beauty of the Undying Lands. Green plants flourish there even when in the world it is winter. Hel is the world beneath the mound — the world of the ancestors.

The topography of the Underworld appears to have been thoroughly mapped by the ancients; there is a remarkable degree of agreement in the accounts of journeys– the obstacles to be surmounted, the rivers crossed, the beings encountered on the way. Such a definitive tradition suggests generations of journeying. This pathway through the collective unconscious has been well surveyed.

Although the entire group makes the journey to the Underworld together, only the seer takes the further step of going through the gates, and only after formally indicating his or her willingness to do so. If the first Seer/ess has guided the journey, at this point a second person takes over as Guide. The chant is sung by everyone, to a medieval Norwegian melody. The music and the drumming carry the Seer/ess as s/he visualizes going through the Gateway into the Underworld. Individual experiences of this second stage of trance vary, however all agree that a definite shift in consciousness occurs. The experience is generally pleasant. For some, the stimulus of a question is required for images to form, others begin to see spirits etc. as soon as they arrive.

In the Eddas, Odin generally begins by chanting a spell to summon the Völva from her mound, and stating his magical name and powers. He signals his question by saying– “Cease not, Völva, till said thou hast; answer the asker till all he knows….” (Baldrsdraumr 8, etc.). The Völva signals that she has finished with one answer and is ready for a new question by saying, “I tell thee much, yet more lore have I; thou needs must know this — wilt know still more?” (line 4, etc.). or in Voluspá, “Wit you more, or how?”

This pattern is the model for the interaction between the Guide and the seer/ess during Seidh trance. The role of the Guide at this point is to act as intermediary between the group as a whole, still in first stage trance, and the Seer/ess. In the orientation, people should be warned to make their questions as simple and specific as possible. The Guide signals questioners to begin, and signals the end of a sequence. S/he also maintains sufficient rapport with the Seer/ess to tell when the Seer/ess is tiring and end the session. If there are more questions than the first Seer/ess can handle, a second and if required a third speaker is put up into the high seat and the sequence from the singing onward repeated.

Some querents may have questions involving the dead, or there may be times when a seer/ess senses spirits who are eager to communicate. Given that we are invading the realm of the spirits for this work, it seems only just that from time to time they should be allowed to have their say. The seer/ess may hear and transmit the message, or in some cases, allow the spirit to speak through him/her. This kind of communication, however, should be handled carefully, and special care should be taken in bringing the seer/ess back to ordinary consciousness.

When all questions have been answered, the Guide brings the last Seer/ess back through the Gate, but s/he may stay in High Seat for journey home. To the beat of the drum, the Guide narrates return journey in reverse order from entry. At the end of the narration, the Guide or a singer may sing another song to help people make the transition back to ordinary reality.

The final part of the ritual recapitulates the actions of the opening in reverse order, assisting all participants to make an orderly transition back to normal reality. Tasting rock salt is helpful in grounding, and distributing it provides an opportunity to make sure that everyone has in fact shifted back to ordinary consciousness. We always try to have food and drink available afterward to continue this process and replace expended energy. The social atmosphere of sharing food also provides a supportive environment in which people can debrief and discuss the interpretation of their answers.

The larger the group being served, the more useful a division of labor in the ceremony becomes. Roles include that of the Seer/ess, the Guide, one or more Wardens to assist in getting seers in and out of the chair and recovering as well as watching out for problems in the group as a whole, and of course, the people who are asking the questions. Each of these functions is important, and each requires preparation and training.

The element that makes seidh different from individual shamanic journeying is the presence of the people with the questions. The Harner technique in which a shaman journeys to obtain a vision for a client, helps him or her to interpret it, and teaches him to continue working in this way on his own occupies a middle position between solo work and seidh. Seidh allows a shaman, or seer, to use a single journey to see for many people in a way which recreates the culturally supportive environment of a traditional setting. In fact only if there are a number of people seeking information of this kind does it make sense to put on such an elaborate ceremony. It might be said, therefore, that next to the seer/ess, the people are the most important participants.

Despite the fact that others lead the journey, the role of the querent should not be a passive one. Adding to the number of people sharing the vision seem to increase its intensity. Even an experienced journeyer may find the trip more vivid when others are along. The presence of a group provides an automatic support network which helps to validate the experience, and the energy and excitement created by group chanting provides extra power to carry the seer/ess into the second level of trance.

It is the responsibility of the querent to frame the question in a way that will provide a useful answer, so s/he should spend some thought on choosing the subject, and be specific about how it is described. Questions should be narrowed down so that a single short vision will provide useful information. They should be serious, and they should be important to the asker. In asking their questions and interpreting the seidhkona’s replies, Querents would be well advised to heed the advice Socrates gave to Xenopohon regarding oracles. According to the master, it is stupid to ask questions which can be answered by research, reason or ethical principles.

In short, what the gods have granted us to do by dint of learning, we must learn. What is hidden from mortals we should try to find out from the gods by divination; for to him that is in their grace the gods grant signs.

— Xenophon, Memorabilia, LCL, trans. O.J. Todd, vol. 4, pp. 5-7

Ancient writers such as Epictetus also point out the necessity of approaching the oracle with a completely detached and open mind, determined to put the answer to good use, whatever it may be.

Interestingly enough, we have found that a vision will sometimes answer more than one question — the one that triggered it, and a question which someone else in the group is waiting to ask. The visions may stimulate insights in those who have not yet asked their questions or did not know they had one. Others simply “hang out” in a comfortable state or do their own spiritual work until it is time to return.

The greater the need of the querent, the more powerful the vision will be. The process is essentially interactive. Seer and querents have already been placed in rapport by journeying together; the seer uses his or her skills to reach a level of consciousness in which information and images can be accessed with great efficiency, but the questions, especially those coming from complete strangers, evoke the images, and validate the seer’s belief in his or her skills.

The querent therefore needs to stay as focused as possible, to sing enthusiastically when required, and to formulate his or her question as simply and clearly as possible. The more open the querent is to the experience, the more powerful the answer. In some cases the answer may be something the querent has been told before, or a thing that could be communicated just as well in a less elaborate setting. The fact that the information is communicated when both parties are in an altered state seems to give it more impact. The images which are the most common type of response can have great power, and even ordinary information conveyed in trance may acquire profound significance. In any case, the querent is more likely to remember and understand advice received in this way.

The only equipment really needed for seidh is the mind. However, like shamans in traditional societies, in Hrafnar we have found that when one is working with a group, a certain amount of dramatic technique increases the effectiveness of the process. Physical symbols, which speak to the unconscious, help us to convince ourselves and those who work with us that we are indeed recreating the spirituality of our ancestors. Thus, in addition to researching the process itself, we have studied the culture from which it came, and tried, as much as possible, to recreate its clothing and artifacts. The effectiveness of this may be judged by one attendee’s comment that the experience felt like participating in something out of National Geographic.

Results

Seidh is not intended to replace other spiritual or therapeutic practices. Its benefits, as with any experience, depend on the use that is made of them. The ritual appears to have two major effects. The first is to provide spiritual counselling for a maximum number of people in a single session. The second is to give people a powerful sense of participation in a spiritual experience in the Northern European tradition. Many querents have reported that the answers they received were extremely accurate, and that they received new insights into their situations.

The Hrafnar seidh procedure is now reasonably well tested. Both women and men have been trained and seem to function equally well. Several of the seers are able to handle a roomful of questions with minimal assistance. Others are able to take several questions at a time with some support. Clearly, this is a skill which becomes easier with practice. The group has become known as a resource available to the local community and is beginning to work with other Norse groups such as the Ring of Troth. Hrafnar performs seidh at several annual festivals as well as on special occasions. In the future, we will continue to train more seer/esses, and give them the experience they need to function more and more independently.

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embervoices · 7 years

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Sometimes Ravens Fly

I have left Hrafnar. It feels a lot like moving the last of my stuff out of my parent’s house. I haven’t lived there in a long time, but I never stopped thinking of it as home. Until I did.

I was first introduced to Hrafnar when a dear friend invited me to his handfasting at a Heathen campout. I discovered that many people I already knew and liked were regular attendees. So when I found myself…

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#Community #Emotion #Ethics #Heathenism #Hrafnar #Religion and Spirituality #Self Work #Vanic Conspiracy

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anastasiaoftheironwood · 10 months

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Oracular Seidh Ritual, November 26, 2023

The Seidhjallr Team of Hrafnar Kindred presents a ritual of Oracular Seidh on Sunday, November 26, 2023. The November event features a journey to Helheim, to ask the Ancestors questions for the people. Given the time of year, we expect the dead will be quite active and ready to speak!

Hrafnar is a Troth-associated Kindred.

Would you know more prior to attending? Check out “The Hrafnar Seidh Ritual” at https://seidh.org/articles/seidh/

Disclosure: I am a member of the Seidhjallr Team, and will be the Cyber Warder for the event.

It will be a hybrid event: *in person at the Berkeley Fellowship of Unitarian Universalists (BFUU) at 1924 Cedar Street, Berkeley, CA. *via Zoom for those unable to attend in person.

Doors and the Zoom meeting will open at 5:00 PM PST for set up, and the pre-ritual information talk will begin at 5:15.

DM me for the Zoom link.

There is no set fee, but for those who can, we will pass the hat to help defray the cost of the hall.

#Norse #ritual #oracular seidh #Journey to Helheim

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human-antithesis · 3 years

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Auðn - Lífvana jörð

Lyrics:

Það var hér Sem vatn um dali rann Sólin skeið í heiði Sá tími er liðinn Jörðin lögð í eyði Svartir hrafnar Sveima í leit að æti Landið þurrt sem eyðimörk Stormar geysa Afmynda yfirborð jarðar Farvegir fyrndar bera aur og ryk Lífvana jörð Svidin jörð Djúpt í iðrum gils Við hamra hafs sem áður var Skimar vera grá og mögur Grimmdin holdi klædd Vitstola af hungri Trú og spilling Valdur grimmdarverka Helför allra þjóða Eftir el neitt

#Auðn #Audn #Atmospheric Black Metal #Black Metal #Iceland

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trolldomblog · 5 years

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Seidr & Norse Shamanism

In Old Norse, seiðr (sometimes anglicized as seidhr, seidh, seidr, seithr, seith, or seid) was a type of sorcery practiced in Norse society during the Late Scandinavian Iron Age. The practice of seiðr is believed to be a form of magic relating to both the telling and shaping of the future. Connected with Norse religion, its origins are largely unknown, although it became gradually eroded following the Christianization of Scandinavia. Accounts of seiðr later made it into sagas and other literary sources, while further evidence has been unearthed by archaeologists. Various scholars have debated the nature of seiðr, some arguing that it was shamanic in context, involving visionary journeys by its practitioners.

Seiðr practitioners were of both sexes, although females are more widely attested, with such sorceresses being variously known as vǫlur, seiðkonur and vísendakona. There were also accounts of male practitioners, known as seiðmenn, but in practicing magic they brought a social taboo, known as ergi, on to themselves, and were sometimes persecuted as a result. In many cases these magical practitioners would have had assistants to aid them in their rituals.

In pre-Christian Norse mythology, seiðr was associated with both the god Oðinn, a deity who was simultaneously responsible for war, poetry and sorcery, and the goddess Freyja, a member of the Vanir who was believed to have taught the practice to the Æsir.

In the 20th century, adherents of various modern pagan new religious movements adopted forms of magico-religious practice that include seiðr. The practices of these contemporary seiðr-workers have since been investigated by various academic researchers operating in the field of pagan studies. Darkness covers the tents scattered across the drying grass of the festival grounds with a kindly shadow; at the far end of the sloping valley, the cliffs are edged by the first silver shimmer of the rising moon. As its light grows, it outlines a canvas pavilion and glimmers on the upturned faces of the folk gathered before it. They are gazing at a tall chair like a throne, but higher and draped with a bearskin, where a veiled figure waits, her body motionless, her face in shadow.

“The gate is passed, the seidhkona waits,” says the woman sitting on the fur-covered stool below the high seat. “Is there one here who would ask a question?”

After a moment’s hesitation, someone rises. He must decide whether to move from his present home or continue where he is. What should he do? What fate does the Völva see?

Norse Shamanism

A careful analysis of Norse and Celtic sources suggests that this is indeed true. To the reader familiar with the literature of shamanism, many of the visionary and magical feats attributed to both Druids and Old Norse vitkis or völvas seem strongly reminiscent of shamanic practices. The Icelandic sagas are rich in accounts of magic of all kinds, including spirit journeys, weather working, healing, prophecy, and shape changing. Some of the Scandinavian practices may well have been learned from the Saami (Lapps) or Finns, but accounts from Celtic and even Greek legend support a belief in native Indo-European shamanism as well.

Seidr

— (Shamanism and Old English Poetry, p. 97)

In the literature, seidh refers to various kinds of magical practice, including an act of divination or prophecy performed while in trance. Other terms for the practitioner of seidh would be seidhkona, spákona, or for a man, seidhmadhr. A more general term for a male spiritual practitioner was vitki (in Anglo-Saxon, wicca or [fem.] wicce). At an earlier period, both men and women appear to have practiced this craft. Male practitioners of seidh included Ragnvald Rettilbeini (the son of King Harald Fair hair, who was burned by Erik Bloodaxe at their father’s command along with the men who worked seidh with him), and Eyvindr Kelda, who was drowned by King Olaf. However, the majority of those who practice seidh in the sagas are female. The strong feminine tradition makes this form of shamanism especially interesting to women.

Skill in seidh was a specialty of the god Odin. It is said to have been taught to the Aesir by the goddess Freyja (Ynglingasaga: 4) and parts of the practice probably originated with the Vanir cult. On the other hand, Odin was himself originally a shamanic deity, who seems to have acquired this magical technique in addition to his mastery of the runes and other lore. In part VII of the Ynglingasaga, we learn that —

But thou in Samsey wast performing seidh

And beating out (spells) like a Völva,

Vitki-like didst pass through the world of men,

In woman’s wise, I believe.

— (Lokasenna: 24)

Other practices identified as seidh include raising storms, journeying or battling in animal form, sending a nightmare to kill someone by suffocation in his sleep, and love spells, all things with which shamans in other cultures are credited (or accused of) as well. Journeying, both in the body and in trance, is a standard practice in Norse literature. Destinations vary, there are references to travel in Midgard (viewing other parts of the real world) and seeking Odin’s Seat of Seeing in Asgard. However, by far the most common use of the term seidh is in reference to a ritual in which the seeress (völva or seiðkona) sits on a platform or high seat (seidhjallr), goes into trance and prophesies for the community. It is this practice which Hrafnar has to date spent the most time in recovering.

— (Eliade: Shamanism, p.325)

To prophesy, the Greenland Völva sat upon a raised seat with a cushion stuffed with hen feathers. To enable her to go into trance, a special song, the vardhlokur, was sung by a woman, which summoned the spirits. As a result, the seeress prophesied the end of the famine, and also answered many questions for members of the community. She wore a special costume, consisting of a blue cloak ornamented with stones, a necklace of glass beads, a cap of black lambskin lined with white cat skin, cat skin gloves, and calfskin shoes. A belt supported her skin pouch of magical paraphernalia and a walrus ivory handled knife, and she carried a carven staff with a brass knob, also set with stones. The most significant aspects of this attire are probably the inclusion of different kinds of animal fur, especially the skins of the cat, sacred to Freyja, and the staff, which appears in a 6th century plaque which may depict a priestess, and is among the items forbidden to Christians. In Laxdælasaga, a seidh staff is found in a grave believed to be that of a völva.

The Hrafnar Seidh Ritual

In the references to prophetic seidh which have survived, attention focuses on the questions, and beyond the information that a special song was sung, little is said about the techniques used to achieve vision. However, in studying the Eddas, we note that the Voluspá; BaldersdraumR, and the Shorter Seeress’ Prophecy all recount episodes in which Odhinn journeys to the Underworld to consult the Völva. These stories suggest two possibilities — the first is that the place in which prophetic vision is found is Hel, home of the ancestral spirits, and second is that the process of questioning was structured according to a traditional formula to which the seer was conditioned to respond. In seidh as performed by Hrafnar, singing is used to change consciousness and raise energy, the journey to the Underworld serves to bring everyone to the source of knowledge, and the formulaic questioning keeps the visionary state under control.

‘Tis time to sing at the Seat of Thul,

At the well of Urdh to welcome wisdom. . .”

With these words from the Havamál we move into the heart of the ritual, preparation for the prophetic trance begins. The seidh journey is powered by the energy raised by dance and drumming, chant and song. As in traditional societies, an exchange takes place between shaman and people in which the energy of the community enables the shaman to journey farther and faster to bring back the knowledge they need. The forms this takes may vary. Sometimes Hrafnar ceremonies include fiddlers who play Swedish folk music to get people into the mood. More often, we use the drum. The drummer should begin a strong beat to which all may sway, clap, etc. and if there is room, dance in a line or spiral which becomes a circle again, or only the seer/esses may dance. This is followed by the power songs of the seer/esses. A whistle may signal the end of the preparatory phase.

In the Eddas, Odin generally begins by chanting a spell to summon the Völva from her mound and stating his magical name and powers. He signals his question by saying– “Cease not, Völva, till said thou hast; answer the asker till all he knows….” (Baldrsdraumr 8, etc.). The Völva signals that she has finished with one answer and is ready for a new question by saying, “I tell thee much, yet more lore have I; thou needs must know this — wilt know still more?” (line 4, etc.). or in Voluspá, “Wit you more, or how?”

This pattern is the model for the interaction between the Guide and the seer/ess during Seidh trance. The role of the Guide at this point is to act as intermediary between the group as a whole, still in first stage trance, and the Seer/ess. In the orientation, people should be warned to make their questions as simple and specific as possible. The Guide signals questioners to begin and signals the end of a sequence. S/he also maintains sufficient rapport with the Seer/ess to tell when the Seer/ess is tiring and end the session. If there are more questions than the first Seer/ess can handle, a second and if required a third speaker is put up into the high seat and the sequence from the singing onward repeated.

The element that makes seidh different from individual shamanic journeying is the presence of the people with the questions. The Harner technique in which a shaman journeys to obtain a vision for a client, helps him or her to interpret it, and teaches him to continue working in this way on his own occupies a middle position between solo work and seidh. Seidh allows a shaman, or seer, to use a single journey to see for many people in a way which recreates the culturally supportive environment of a traditional setting. In fact, only if there are several people seeking information of this kind does it make sense to put on such an elaborate ceremony. It might be said, therefore, that next to the seer/ess, the people are the most important participants.

It is the responsibility of the querent to frame the question in a way that will provide a useful answer, so s/he should spend some thought on choosing the subject and be specific about how it is described. Questions should be narrowed down so that a single short vision will provide useful information. They should be serious, and they should be important to the asker. In asking their questions and interpreting the seidhkona’s replies, Querents would be well advised to heed the advice Socrates gave to Xenopohon regarding oracles. According to the master, it is stupid to ask questions which can be answered by research, reason or ethical principles.

— Xenophon, Memorabilia, LCL, trans. O.J. Todd, vol. 4, pp. 5-7

Ancient writers such as Epictetus also point out the necessity of approaching the oracle with a completely detached and open mind, determined to put the answer to good use, whatever it may be.

The querent therefore needs to stay as focused as possible, to sing enthusiastically when required, and to formulate his or her question as simply and clearly as possible. The more open the querent is to the experience, the more powerful the answer. In some cases, the answer may be something the querent has been told before, or a thing that could be communicated just as well in a less elaborate setting. The fact that the information is communicated when both parties are in an altered state seems to give it more impact. The images which are the most common type of response can have great power, and even ordinary information conveyed in trance may acquire profound significance. In any case, the querent is more likely to remember and understand advice received in this way.

Results

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